#i said one day i’d make non silly art of him

[gender-premium-tm]

who let this guy out (inspiration for this)

reblogs >>> likes

click for higher quality bc tumblr is a hater

[gunterfan1992]

Episode Review: ‘Together Again’ (Distant Lands, Ep. 3)

Airdate: May 20, 2021

Story by: Jack Pendarvis, Kate Tsang, Hanna K. Nyström, Christina Catucci, Jesse Moynihan, Adam Muto

Storyboarded by: Hanna K. Nyström, Anna Syvertsson, Iggy Craig, Maya Petersen, Serena Wu

Directed by: Miki Brewster (supervising), Sandra Lee (art)

Across Adventure Time’s ten season run, the show explored a bevy of “mature” themes and story ideas—topics, like love, sexuality, depression, and grieving. The show also touched upon death, but the emphasis was usually placed on the emotional toll of a loved one dying, not really what happens when you die. We knew there were Dead Worlds and Death. We knew that there was reincarnation. But how does it all fit together? What does it mean? How does it work?

With “Together Again,” we finally have many of the answers.

This special opens with a marvelous fake-out episode simply called “Finn & Jake,” that sees the two steal a magical cartoon of 50-flavor ice cream before rescuing Turtle Princess and LSP from the clutches of the villainous Ice King. This is all deliberately anachronistic and over the top. Ice King is back to his season one ways, Finn has both arms, and he is still wielding his golden sword that he lost in season two’s “The Real You.” There’s lolrandom dialogue and silly monsters; it’s like a parody of seasons 1-2. But then, this adventure starts to get all wonky, and in time Finn realizes that he is in a some sort of trance or illusion: one that ends with Jake being buried in the ground. Suddenly, Finn awakens from his reverie. He’s an old man. And he’s dead. We’re then presented with a new title card that lets us know the episode is actually called “Finn & Jake Are Dead.”

Holy Glob! They actually went there.

Turns out Jake died years before Finn, so naturally Finn is super excited to see his best bud. But something’s wrong—he cannot find Jake!! They planned to spend eternity together. But all that Finn can find is his very own psychopomp, Mr. Fox (voiced by Tom Herpich, whose purposefully stilted line readings are the epitome of delightful). Finn rightfully assumes that Jake is in a different Dead World, and so, being the ball of spunk and energy that he is, he demands to meet with Death, only to discover that there’s a New Death in town (voiced by Chris Fleming). The episode eventually explains that New Death was the son of Death and Life, and after New Death killed his father, he became the sovereign of the afterlife. New Death hates his job and decides to just blow up all the Dead Worlds so he doesn’t have to deal with it all. (I won’t get too much into the details here, because there would be a lot of story to parse out.)

Finn soon learns that Jake has reached nirvana in the 50th Dead World, where there is nothing but peace and serenity. Finn nevertheless tracks down Jake, pulls him from paradise, but in doing so, accidentally lets New Death in, who promptly obliterates Elysium, sending all the enlightened souls—including those from different levels of the afterlife—to the 1st Dead World. This gronks up the afterlife, temporarily halting the reincarnation process.

Well, Finn and Jake are rightfully ticked, and so they haunt the material plane looking for Princess Bubblegum. She’s not home (more on that later), but Peppermint Butler is! After Ghost Finn and Ghost Jake explain the situation, Peppermint Butler tells them what to do: They need to find Life and explain the situation. The duo manage just that, and Life is rightfully angry that her kid has stopped the transmigration of souls. After Life gives Finn a McGuffin sword that can hurt Death, Finn and Jake return to his abode. A brawl ensues wherein we learn that New Death has been possessed… by none other than that spirit of the Lich.

That’s right, it’s the Lich! He’s back, and boy is he evil.

The Lich explains that by possessing Death, he can destroy the afterlife, thereby destroying a key aspect of reality. Naturally, Finn and Jake are not cool with this, and they engage in combat. After Mr. Fox grabs the McGuffin sword and uses it to annihilate the Lich and New Death, he is proclaimed the New New Death and sets everything right. Finn is slated to be reincarnated, and Jake is slated to return to the 50th Dead World where he and Finn will one day be reunited. As Finn is pulled into the wheel of souls, Jake suddenly decides to go back with Finn, too, “Just for fun.” The episode ends with a card letting us know that the episode is neither called “Finn & Jake” nor “Finn & Jake Are Dead.” Instead, it is “Finn and Jake Are Together Again.”

As they say, “And there wasn’t a dry eye in the place.”

If you were to tell me several years ago that the last episode to star Finn and Jake would revolve around them dying, I think I would’ve been upset. Not simply sad, but rather frustrated because “they all died” can feel like a cheap ending. But with “Together Again,” it all works. And a large reason that it works is because the show goes all in with their ideas. Finn and Jake don’t magically leap back into their old life (no, no, they very much do bite the dust). Instead, the special emphasizes the cyclical nature of life through the transmigration of souls. The episode ends with a beautiful scene of Finn and Jake, bound together as soul-brothers, being reborn into a new, mysterious (possibly Ooo 1000+?) world. It’s both aesthetically and emotionally pleasing; it doesn’t feel off the way over finales might. This is right. This is the way life works. “Round and round as nature goes,” and all that jazz.

I loved the series explanation of how death works. It seems that souls land in a specific Dead World, where they ‘marinate’ for a bit, presumably being rewarded or punished based on their life in our meat reality. After a time, they are then reborn. This process repeats, with each soul reaching higher and higher levels of enlightenment until they hit nirvana, which is the 50th Dead World. So in a sense, Adventure Time has a roughly Buddhist cosmology with a dash of Greco-Roman mythos thrown in for flavor. (As to what happens after a soul stays in the 50th Dead World for a long period is anyone’s guess, but I’d speculate that when all the souls in the multiverse have been purified and land in the 50th Dead World, they will all collapse into one another and form one perfect Monad. Perhaps this is the sphere of perfection that the beings who merged into Matthew thought they were connecting to? Who knows! It’s anyone’s guess!) I was a little disappointed that we didn’t get to see who Death, Prismo, Life, etc.’s boss was, but perhaps that’s a mystery better left up to the imagination!

One minor thing that I loved about this special was the number of characters who made cameos as well as all the callbacks that were made to previous episodes. Regarding the former: Finn and Jake’s canine family show up (including the oft-forgotten Jermaine!), as do Tree Trunks and her myriad husbands. Tiffany plays a major role in all these shenanigans as a “death cop” of all things. There is a delightful rogues gallery stuck in the 1st Dead World (including, among others, Maja, Sharon from “The Gut Grinder,” and Wyatt). In the 50th we find Ghost Princess and Clarence happily at peace next to Booshy, the weird spirit mentioned in the Pen Ward classic “High Strangeness.” As far as callbacks go, perhaps my favorite is the clap (from “James Baxter the Horse”) that Jake taught to Finn in case they ever do get separated in the afterlife. And of course, there are myriad references made to “Death in Bloom,” the episode that planted the seed for what this would grow into.

Going into the special suspecting that it would involve Death, I was curious how they were going to handle Miguel Ferrer’s character. (In case a reader is not aware, Ferrer played Death in episodes like “Death in Bloom” and “Betty,” but he sadly passed away a few years ago). The producers’ choice to feature him in a non-speaking cameo—despite playing a relatively significant role in the story—was wise; I’m not sure if I can articulate the exact reasons, but something about his role felt appropriate and not gross, as some post-mortem memorials can be. Speaking of which, the wonderful, lovely Polly Lou Livingston was featured for the last time in this episode as Tree Trunks, happily in heaven with her literal harem of husbands. It was funny, it really was, and I’m sure that Polly Lou would’ve gotten a kick out of seeing it on screen. (Also, this is a pro-Tree Trunks safe space. Any Tree Trunks haters will be chucked into the 1st Dead World with Wyatt.)

The biggest mystery in this whole thing, for me at least, is the question of Princess Bubblegum and Marceline. Several years ago, I wrote an essay about what could’ve happened to them in the Ooo 1000+ universe. I speculated that they peaced out and left Ooo behind. In this special, neither Bubblegum nor Marceline are to be found in the Candy Kingdom—Peppermint Butler seems to be the one in charge, given that he is now wearing Bubblegum’s crown. Likewise, the duo aren’t anywhere in the Dead Worlds either. Maybe the two of them skipped town and got a duplex in the Nightosphere? Who knows… I just want my favorite gals to be OK!

All things considered, “Together Again” was a marvel: An episode that managed to feel like a series finale even more than “Come Along with Me” already did without taking away from the series itself. An episode that managed to make the idea of dying funny. An episode that brought back the Lich in a way that wasn’t forced. An episode that made Mr. Fox the New New Death. An episode that gave us a beautiful ending to Finn and Jake’s story… as well as the beautiful beginning to a new one. I said it on Twitter, and I’ll say it again here: “Together Again” was the end of a sentence in a book with infinite pages. Truly, the fun will never end.

Mushroom War evidence: Everything takes place in the Dead Worlds, so not really. Perhaps a more eagle-eyed viewer can inform us...

Final Grade: That’s right, I’m gonna do it...

Post-script, I actually messaged Jesse Moynihan to ask about his writing credit. He told me that it was for an unused story idea that he had developed. I’m not certain, but I’ll bet it was a part of the cancelled TV movie they were trying to make during season 5, since that would’ve seen Finn and Orgalorg journey to the various Dead Worlds.

[pookiepoodle]

Finding out you’re a Little ft. Inarizaki

I don’t own any art (except the lovely swirly thing). Please check out my masterlist and send in requests. This is an age-regression piece, so expect that kind of content (all non-sexual). Aran’s involves diapers as a medical need. 

Suna

You wanna watch cartoons after a long day of studying for your upcoming university exams.  

Suna smirks a little but doesn’t say anything, shrugging as he pulls you up against his chest, the screen flashing with bright colors. 

You don’t even notice the smirk and you can feel yourself growing smaller, your eyes shining as you giggle at the silly antics of the characters.

 Now, Suna has a faint idea of what’s happening. He’s always on his phone so he sees a lot of different communities and right now, you’re reminding him of something. 

“Ya know Princess, you’re acting really cute right now,” he begins, his hands wrapped around your waist as you stare at the TV. You feel rather small and you can’t help but giggle, snuggling back into his chest. Suna always makes you feel so safe, especially when you feel like this. Though, you don’t tend to regress in front of your boyfriend as he (at least in your mind) doesn’t know anything about your tendencies to do so. 

“You feeling small?”

That question makes you sit up straight, the cartoons forgotten as you realise what Suna said. Suna knew. He knew you were an age regressor. There was no way he asked that and didn’t understand the implications of it. But… he wasn’t freaking out. He wasn’t grossed out or asking her to stop. So shyly, you nod, holding your breath as you wait for his response.

“Alright, how about we order some pizza for dinner and we just cuddle, keep watching your show?” he hums, making you smile brightly at the thought of having delicious pizza. But, even more so at the fact that your boyfriend knows you so well. 

You’ll talk to him more about your age regression tomorrow, when you’re feeling bigger, but for now? 

You simply cuddle him, watching your show with a happy heart.

Kita

You can’t stop staring at the coloring books during your weekly shopping trip at the grocery store. 

Kita doesn’t say anything, letting you look over them all. He notices you keep going back to a specific one and will suddenly grab it, putting it into the cart.

You jump a little, blushing brightly when you realise that a) he caught you staring at children’s coloring books and b) he’s put it in the shopping cart, clearly intending to buy it for you.

Kita isn’t aware of what age regression is per say, so he simply thinks that you want to color. 

“They also do adult coloring books, Y/N,” Kita says, pointing at some of the other ones, but you shake your head no. Those ones are too detailed, too finicky for when you’re little. You’ll only get frustrated and cry, so instead you prefer to use the ones meant for kids.

“That’s alright, do you need crayons or anything?” he continued, acting as if his girlfriend/boyfriend/partner wanting a kids coloring book was normal (AN: totally is). 

“Kita, don’t you think it’s… weird?” you finally said, your voice small as you met his eyes. Kita was a straight-forward man and you expected him to be brutally honest with you. 

“Why would it be weird?”

“Well… it’s a kids coloring book and I’m supposed to be Big-” you began, cutting yourself off at the last word. You’d meant to say adult.

“Big? Y/N, is everything alright?” Kita asks calmly, moving closer to you. You can feel his hand against the small of your back, a comforting gesture.

“Can… can we talk about it in the car?” you ask, trying to keep yourself calm. You knew it was time to tell Kita (you’d been dating for years now) but even so, it was a scary thought. 

“Of course, we’re nearly done with the shopping,” Kita nodded, taking your hand as he led you to get the last few items. Throughout the process of paying and leaving the shop, you didn’t say a word to him, trying to figure out how to best tell him the truth.

“Just sit in the car, darling, I’ll load the shopping,” Kita insists, leaving you to twiddle your thumbs in the front seat, until you hear him get in next to you.

“Y/N, I don’t want to force you to tell me what’s going on, but I want to let you know that you can trust me.”

And with those words, you began to tell him everything about your little side, how you love to color and drink apple juice from your sippy. As you speak, he will ask questions as a lot of the terms you use are unfamiliar to him, but once you’re done, he gives you a small smile, reaching across to grab your hand.

“Y/N, when we get home, may I color with you?”

With a bright smile, you nod, relieved at how accepting your wonderful boyfriend is.

Aran

He finds your “protection” when he’s in your room. 

He was really confused and tried to act like he didn’t see it, simply nudging the packaging further under the bed.

But you saw his eyes widen, his face grow red and you know that he knows. 

With tears filling your eyes, you push him out your way as you run into the bathroom, locking the door as you sink to the ground, sobbing. 

Immediately, he panics, trying the door handle but to no avail.

He has no idea what’s going on, but all he knows is that his beloved girlfriend/boyfriend/partner is upset and he just wants to comfort you. 

You were a mess behind the door, sobbing your heart out as the events just kept replaying in your mind. He saw your “adult protection” which, let’s be honest, were just diapers. The fancy name always made you feel a little bit better when buying them, but now, it was just that. A fancy name for a humiliating product. There was no way that Aran wasn’t going to dump you.

“Y/N, please let me in!”

“No! J-Just g-go…”

“I’m not leaving until we talk about this, okay?”

Aran could be stubborn when he wanted to be and you realised that this was going to be one of those times. He wouldn’t leave until you talked to him, even if it took hours.

“C-Can we talk through the d-door?” 

“Of course, sweetheart,” you heard him say, his tone gentle and reassuring as you try to pull yourself together.

You then proceeded to very shakily explain about your little space. Aran had his phone out and if he didn’t recognise a word, he quickly googled it as to not have to make you answer his questions. In little space, you sometimes had problems controlling your bladder at night and after waking up with wet sheets far too often, you’d decided it was best to get some form of protection. Once you’d finished speaking, there was a silence.

“I-It’s okay if y-you don’t w-want this, I g-get it…” you whispered, tears filling your eyes once more as you waited for Aran to agree.

“Why would I not want you?”

You immediately sit up, shocked.

“Y/N, I love you, a lot. I think it’s amazing that you’re able to find a way to relax and be happy, not everyone can do that. I think you’re adorable already, I can’t imagine how cute you are when you’re little. I’m so lucky, shoot, I’ve got the cutest girlfriend ever…”

“But what about… ya know…”

“The protection? Sweetheart, that’s not your fault. You’re so brave and smart and kind and amazing and I would be a jerk if I dumped you because of something as silly as that. Heck, I used to change my little sister’s diapers all the time, I’m not bothered by it.”

“I-I’m not asking for your help!”

“Ah, wait, I didn’t mean- like if you wanted or needed it, I’d love to take care of you, even if you need help with that, but only if you want to,” he panicked, bright red as he realised that he was probably being a bit too forward.

There was another pause before the bathroom lock clicked and the door opened. 

“L-Let’s t-take it slow… but I’d l-like to watch a movie with you.”

Osamu

You were crying because your mom said she thought she accidentally tossed out your lovie/stuffie.

He was really confused because you were at Miya Onigiri and you just kept crying, so he immediately pulls you into the back room, glaring at the staff to keep them out as he just hugs you. You know that you’re regressing but you’re just in such a panic that you can’t really care, clinging to him as you babble, tears streaming down your face.

 Instinctively, he wraps his arms around you, gently bouncing you on his knee as he pats your back, mumbling that,” Everything’s gonna be alright, Y/N, okay? Yer alright, just take a deep breath…” 

After a while, you manage to calm down, though you’re still trembling in his arms as you catch your breath. Of course, Osamu isn’t the type to just let things like this slip and he will immediately ask if he can talk to you about it.

“Alright, we need to talk about what happened, Angel,” he sighs, shifting you on his lap so that you’re facing him properly, though he refuses to let you go. 

“It’s not that big of a deal…” you mumble, your face now pink and tear-stained as you look away from him. You’d always tried to keep this side of yourself private but hearing that your Mom might have tossed out Bunny… Even thinking about it again was enough to make you tear up, which your boyfriend noticed immediately.

“It seems like a big deal to me,” he replied, moving to wipe away the fresh tears,” C’mon, Y/N, you know I don’t care if it’s embarrassing or something. Remember when I had to call ye because I got food poisoning and that bastard used all the toilet paper?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the memory, nodding as you let his thumb rub against your cheeks lovingly. 

“So, please, I just wanna know,” he finished, giving you a pleading look.

So, you told him everything. He obviously had questions, interrupting you when you used terms he was unfamiliar with and when he just needed something clarified. You grew sadder when you started talking about your rabbit plushie, explaining what had happened and he hugged you to his chest gently.

“That’s awful, Angel, I’m real sorry,” he mumbled,” Listen though. I’m gonna learn more about this and if ya let me, I wanna be a part of it. I like taking care of ye already, so if yer willing to give me a chance, let me try, m’kay?”

You were so happy, you nearly started crying again as you nodded.

“How about helping me look for Bunny after work?”

And with a nod from Osamu, that’s how he became your Daddy.

(afternote: Bunny had fallen behind the bed and was found!)

Atsumu

You accidentally open the door with your paci in your mouth. 

He notices it and smiles, wrapping his arms around you without even saying something, though he makes sure to close the door quickly so other people don’t see. 

You don’t even realise that you’re wearing your paci until you move to give him a kiss, his hand moving to pull it out before giving you a small peck.

 Immediately, you pull back, eyes widened as you try and grab the mouth piece back, humiliated. 

Atsumu knows that look in your eyes and immediately gives it back, but not before grabbing your hand and dragging you to the living room, where he pulls you onto his lap for snuggles.

“So… nice paci,” he begins, watching you blush adorably as you hide it in your pockets.

“Thanks,” you mumble, unable to meet his eyes as you wish you could disappear right now or that a coconut would fall from the ceiling and hit Atsumu in the head. Just hard enough to wipe his memory of the last 10 minutes. 

“Do ye use it a lot or just sometimes?” he asked. He wasn’t teasing you (as you had expected), seeming to be genuinely curious about your little habit.

“Umm… just sometimes, when I feel like it,” you continue, blushing, nervously playing with your hair as you try to keep calm. 

“If ye wanna keep using it, go ahead,” he smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“You don’t think I’m a freak?”

“What? Has someone said something to you about it?!” Atsumu suddenly exclaimed, his eyes filled with fire. If anyone had teased you about this, he was ready to kick their ass.

“No, no! I was just wondering, most people think stuff like this is weird for an adult…” you mumbled, feeling self conscious. You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t even feel Atsumu reaching into your pocket and grabbing your paci. At least, not until he gently pushed it into your mouth, making your eyes widen. You went to pull it out, but he stopped you gently holding it in place as he spoke.

“I think yer adorable, Y/N. I’m gonna do some more research n stuff, since I think I’ve heard about this, but only if ye want me to.”

You pause, thinking it over before gently nodding, making him smile brightly.

“Alright baby, lets just relax for now.”

[wildlyglittering]

A Love for all Seasons Part 1 (Winter)

I said that I would write a piece for Nessian Month to be posted each Sunday so here is the first!

I’d hoped to have this up earlier but hey ho. I ended up scrapping 8,000 words of something that I’d previously done and re-wrote this in a day. It’s barely edited so I can only apologise for dubious quality and numerous spelling errors. 

I asked for prompt requests and this one is based on ‘modern au, Nesta as a ballerina.’ You’ll probably see that it’s not entirely modern au because I just can’t write modern au - sorry!

I’ve decided to link all 4 prompts received together as a 4 part series. Not all other sections will be as long as this one. Probably. I mean, I’ve not written them yet so....

***

Velaris at Solmas was a magical time and Nesta wasn’t thinking metaphorically – Solmas was literally a magical time.

Solmas was a blend of both fae and human traditions and, as a time for celebration, this meant spirits were up and magical shields were down. Active magic rippled through the air as did the leakage from those who had magic but never used it.

No one truly remembered when the lines between fae and human’s merged and there was the possibility the fae had decided to adjust the truth in collective memory to make it seem like they had always been part of the city.

Perhaps they had. Perhaps they hadn’t. Not a human amongst them could tell and not a fae amongst them would.

As centuries passed, or decades - no one was quite sure after all, the fae evolved to blend in. They shed talons, claws and teeth, and moulted wings and shimmering skin.

That wasn’t to say a good deal of them didn’t have remnants of their previous lineage; there were still those who had wings and those who were always followed by a mist. Some slipped from human form like their flesh was a dress.

There wasn’t a fae who didn’t have some magic, however small. But then, so did Nesta and her sisters, Feyre and Elain.

At some point in their collective past, the fae decided they liked the humans and vice versa and so romantic liaisons were not an uncommon occurrence. Despite a few differences, both species were compatible and that was how magic managed to bleed into some human veins. As Feyre said, they were human but with ‘added spice’.  

Sometimes all that magic, especially at this heightened time of year, was damned irritating.

That morning Nesta had been in a café, reading her book when a lady biting into a gingerbread man had to stop on account of her baked good starting to scream.

Then, when she’d left to make her way to the ballet, she’d been caught in a snow flurry where the snowflakes took the form of small fairies and danced around her. She’d slapped them away, ignoring their outraged cries.

The walk which should have been ten minutes from her favourite café down into the theatre district ended up taking forty after some enchanted horses pulling sleighs decided to protest and caused a blockage across three streets, causing numerous detours.

When she finally reached the theatre, the peace of her day shattered, Nesta stormed into her dressing room and slammed the door. “Fucking fae.”

Nesta didn’t hate the fae. Technically, you couldn’t. Anytime anyone had a negative thought there was a haze which descended over people’s minds to remind them how much they loved the fae and how pleased they were to live beside them.

The magic in her blood meant the haze was a pithy little thing which Nesta mentally told to shove its pleasantries up its non-existent asshole leading it to drift away, pretending it wasn’t offended.

No, she didn’t hate them but she found them so inconvenient.

Nesta had settled at her dressing table when her door opened following a knock. A head peeked round, long ruby-red hair streaming downwards. One of the fae Nesta did like.

“Nesta?”

“I’m here.”

“Viviane said she’s going to turn a portion of the Sidra into an ice rink later, fancy coming? I might also take an ice-dive. Good for the pores!”

Gwyn, the production assistant at the Velaris City Ballet Company was fae but was classified as a water nymph. Nesta had only discovered this when they took a trip to Adriata the beach city the previous year for a ‘hot girl summer’ and she realised Gwyn had a set of gills accompanying her lungs.

Nesta met Gwyn’s eyes in the mirror and raised an eyebrow.

“What? I can’t help myself; you know that. I take it the ice-rink is a no?”

Nesta shook her head in response as she began on her hair but smiled. Despite herself she really did like Gwyn and Viviane, and a lot of the production company too even though the company was riddled with nepotism and bias.

Few humans managed to win a place in the ballet. Arts and creative pursuits were hard to break into when you were auditioning against fae. The only reason Nesta was as successful as she had been was because of that drop of magical blood.

She reached for the headdress resting next to her make-up. The Solmas production was The Nutcracker which their performance director, Eris had choreographed and screamed over for weeks.

“Tchaikovsky was a close, personal friend of mine,” he’d bragged. “He was fae of course, well – half-fae, but then no one can be perfect.”

Nesta had rolled her eyes and ignored Eris’ glare, not at all intimidated since they both discovered she immune to glamours and spells.

Nesta hadn’t been able to score the prima ballerina role for the production but then she hadn’t for years. How can a human compete with fae who spun in the air and flew on invisible, gossamer wings?

She’d auditioned for the role of Sugar Plum Fairy and wasn’t offered the position on account of the actual fairies also auditioning. If Nesta had managed to win the role then she wouldn’t have lasted a week before a surprise accident befell her, regardless of the amount of protection charms she wore.

The role she had won suited her fine, the dance being one of her favourites – the Illyrian dance. The steps weren’t complex but the performance was all about attitude and frankly, Nesta had that in spades.

When she’d been offered the dance, Gwyn took her aside in the corridor, a frown on her face. “Are you sure you want to perform this Nesta?”

“I know what you’re going to say, the dance should have gone to an Illyrian and you’re right – it should have. I’ve been trying to petition Eris for years now about Illyrian ballerinas but he’s always up to his typical high-fae purist bullshit.”

Gwyn had given a nervous laugh and looked around them, making sure Eris wouldn’t somehow leap out of the wall at the comment. It was a fair suspicion; he’d done it to performers before if they had any critique of him to say.

“Just do the dance cultural justice.”

Nesta swore she would.

On the scale of species hierarchy, full humans remained at the bottom. They were aging mortals with no magic and poor immune systems. The fae laughed themselves silly at the concept of chicken pox and the common cold. However, it didn’t mean every fae species was revered.

High fae like Eris were basically royalty while lesser fae were their middle-class cousins. Nymphs were considered useful and the majority of other fae fell someplace in between.

Illyrians were almost a side step from the hierarchy.

As a species they were immortal, eternally youthful and ripe with magic as powerful as some of the high fae. Some of their bodies were like machines with what they did with them and they would have been able to perform ballet for days on end without breaking.

They also had those vast jet-black wings which were terrifying and enthralling at the same time. It was a shame Illyrian Air didn’t do well, but then there were far too many customer service issues.

The only reason they weren’t on par with the high-fae (in the eyes of the high-fae) was that they weren’t elegant enough. They moved with a violence underneath the surface of their flesh like their blood was fire.

They also had complex histories which no one understood because Illyrians refused to discuss anything about Illyria and their heritage with anyone who wasn’t an Illyrian.

She once asked Feyre about them to be told Illyrians had spent their entire lifetimes being looked down upon by other fae so when those same fae demanded Illyrian secrets, they refused to comply.

Feyre had said, “Cassian told me, ‘Why should we give them anything when we have to fight for everything,’” and Nesta conceded he had a point. Possibly the only point Cassian had ever had but a point nonetheless.

Why was she thinking all this now? Why was she thinking of her baby sister’s stupid friends? She knew very well why.

Gwyn had stepped into Nesta’s dressing room. “Isn’t tonight when your sister and her friends are coming to the show?”

Yes, that was why.

Gwyn leant against the wall, in Nesta’s line of sight in the mirror and Nesta shrugged keeping her voice nonchalant. “Yes, unfortunately.”

It wasn’t unfortunate Feyre was coming, Feyre who loved anything to do with art and ballet but Nesta wasn’t looking forward to the rest. Rhys, Feyre’s half high-fae, half Illyrian boyfriend had all the arrogant superiority of the high-fae and the volatility of the Illyrians with none of the manners.

Nesta was painfully aware Rhys didn’t like her.

The rest of the group were also non-human with Feyre seemingly abandoning humans completely, preferring the exclusive company of Rhys circle of fae friends. Elain was the opposite, living outside the walls of the city in her cottage, wanting nothing to do with fae at all.

Feyre had told Rhys a bunch of stories from their childhood and Rhys didn’t quite comprehend how human sisters worked, didn’t quite comprehend how complex their relationship had been.

The spit of magic in their blood had made things all the more difficult as humans were not the best containers for magic. In Nesta’s eyes what made it worse were all the tattoos Feyre had inked into her skin; amplifiers mostly.

Anger had been born from Nesta’s worry and her worry was from her love.

Feyre understood the root cause of Nesta’s peevishness even if she didn’t like it but Rhys saw disapproval and returned it in kind.

At the thought of some of the attendees Nesta’s heart started doing something change, fluttering away like it was a bird trapped in a cage. She remembered when Ianthe, one of the ensemble, had shown them the pet bird she’d brought.

“Isn’t it lovely?” she’d said, her eyes glittering as her fingernails grew sharp. “Such a pretty pet for me to love.”

Nesta remembered the poor thing desperately trying to fly out of its cage, smashing its wings and beak against the bars.

Ianthe ended up eating it. She’d sobbed she hadn’t meant to but she hadn’t grabbed her protein bar that morning when she’d left her apartment and she was starving.

They couldn’t help it; it was in their nature to consume. The fae were like locusts that way, consuming land, lives, birds. Hearts.

Gwyn’s smile at Nesta’s response stretched into one which took up most of her face and Nesta refrained from shuddering. Nymph embodied the gentle and the harsh of their element. Water nymphs had the ability to be as tranquil and soft as summer rain or as vicious and deadly as a shark in deep water.

“Uh-huh. Will Cassian be attending?”

“I don’t know, probably.”

“Are you nervous about doing the Illyrian dance in front of Illyrians?”

Yes. Terrified.

“No,” she said, “I’ve done my research.”

Eris’ choreography for the dance was lazy and aggressive, rooted in his high-fae misperceptions of Illyrian culture. Nesta convinced Eris to let her put together her own steps and when he let her, not giving a damn about the dance, Nesta sought out the sole Illyrian choreographer in Velaris - a woman named Emerie.

At least the dance would contain authentic steps, she’d just never performed it in front of any Illyrians who weren’t Emerie before.

Gwyn’s grin was still wide.

“Oh, go away would you,” Nesta said with a scowl. “I need to focus before the matinee.”

Gwyn laughed at Nesta’s scowl and Nesta knew Gwyn understood Nesta’s words were harsh but her meaning wasn’t.

“Fine, fine. I’ll see you later, my little witchy dancer.”

Nesta glared at her friends departing back. I’m not a witch, she wanted to say, just a human whose great grandma caught the eye of a high-fae and had at it.

The matinee performance went well. Performances at the Velaris City Ballet Company always went well. The city made it so, drawing in an audience like moths to lamplight.

For all its splendour, Velaris was ancient and small. What was once a human village at the base of the mountains with the Sidra River running wild aside it, grew in population and glamour once the fae came pushing through the veil.

Human technology and fae magic combined to turn the place into something unique which rippled out to other human towns and dwellings but Velaris remained the first and the original.

While other cities grew, Velaris kept its quaintness. Old buildings built from red stone were covered with trailing ivy which bloomed with different flowers depending on the inhabitants’ moods. Rooms would change their size and shape according to the number of people within and wallpapers would shift when required to become something new. A piece of furniture could be a chaise longue in the morning and a mahogany dresser by nightfall.

Outside was no different. The cobbled side streets were slightly off kilter and you could look back, having walked up a steep street only to realise the path you’d walked was now heading a different direction and upwards, not down.

The ballet house was one of the oldest buildings and contained concentrated magic the way a bottle contained liquid. It also meant, much like liquid, if the bottle was shaken then there would be spillage.

Truth told; they’d had some difficulties with previous performances.

The first performance of Sleeping Beauty had left the majority of the audience passed out in their red velvet chairs while thickets of thorns grew up from the stage floor, encompassing the dancers. Nesta had to hack through several vines to reach her dressing room to grab her apartment keys.

The Snow Queen last Solmas followed suit. Viviane had been their prima ballerina that year and was in her utmost element. That had been the worst winter Velaris had ever experienced with uncharacteristic heavy snowfalls and biting frosts. The less said about the temporary missing children and ominous women in sleighs, the better.

Aside from when Eris turned actual rats into human sized dancers and the whole city was put into a three-day long lockdown while fae exterminators went to work, The Nutcracker was going fairly well.

Magic whirled the audience through each act and they heard and tasted and smelt everything being shown to them. Music would drift into their ears as performers danced fluidly across the stage. Some of the audience sobbed, overcome by the magic which sank into their skin.

The experience took some time to get used to if you were human. The first time Nesta had performed ballet in Velaris she was dizzy with nausea and slick with sweat. Now she even managed to use some of her own dormant abilities to counter the effects, or even to add in some of her own.

Before the evening performance began, her phone beeped with a message from Feyre.

Can’t wait to see you dance! Catch up with you afterwards!

Nesta groaned. She’d agreed to go for a drink at the in-house bar with Feyre and the rest but now she wished she was going straight home.

The stage melted away from the dance before hers into Nesta’s scenery as she waited in the wings for her cue. She eyed up the boxes, knowing Rhys had sponsored one for Feyre but didn’t have a clue which one.

The Illyrian dance had a sparse stage, to demonstrate the Illyrian steppes but the painted backdrop was one of Ramiel, the revered Illyrian mountain. Despite the sparsity, the set pulsed with a dry heat; the scent of crackling wood fire and spice filling the air, the sensation of warm winds tickling her skin.

When the music started, she danced on, determined to prove to Illyrian eyes in the audience she would do it justice.

Nesta drew on the same magic which ran in Feyre and Elain’s bones, the same magic Feyre had permanently etched on the surface of her skin. When Nesta leapt, she cast imaginary wings on her back which carried her further forward and higher. When she pirouetted, she was spinning on ice. Her arms were graceful and her legs sharp.

Nesta formed herself into a blade of dance as she undulated her hips and curved her spine. She swore the heat under her skin caused the air to burn around her.

She finished to rapturous applause and resisted eyeing up the boxes again although she wanted to know if any particular hands were clapping.

In the wings Gwyn was waiting and handed her a towel and Nesta realised she was glistening with sweat, droplets highlighting her cleavage.

“Very nice,” Gwyn said, clapping. “A small fire broke out in one of the stalls.”

Before Nesta said anything, Eris walked by with a low whistle. “Great performance, Nesta. I now have a raging boner.”

The women shrieked in disgust and Nesta threw her towel at him. “Animal.”

Eris grinned, “You know it” and his eyes shone as he caught the towel. Nesta made a mental note to ask Elain for more rowan to put around her dressing room door.

Nesta watched the rest of the performances from the wings until curtain close. Usually she never dawdled, always wanting to remove her costume and dress into civilian clothes as quick as possible but tonight she took her time, idly drawing out each minute until she couldn’t avoid her fate forever.

Audience members with children, fae or human often left first, clearing the way for those who wanted to remain behind in the theatre bar. When the fae discovered alcohol a new set of problems arose. Regardless of what species you were, once you were drunk you did stupid things.

The bar was below ground level and took up a vast amount of space. Overstuffed seating was positioned around tables in compartments, each draped with their own set of thick, crimson red curtains with gold tassels. If the occupants wanted privacy, then they had it.

Nesta shimmied past groups; fae, human and mixed, who laughed and clinked their champagne flutes, none recognising her as a dancer they’d watched earlier.

Feyre was likely to have a private booth booked along with the theatre box as Rhys had so much gold he likely melted it down and bathed in it. The last time Nesta met up with Feyre, her little sister had been wearing a diamond encrusted corset top.

Ahead of her stood two figures, both leaning against the open fronted bar and deep in conversation. Cassian and Azriel. No one was able to miss them even if they tried to blend in. Illyrians were known for their size and their wings and not exactly known for their love of ballet.

Almost as though he sensed her arrival, Cassian stopped talking and turned, strands of his black hair falling from his messy bun. Her eyes met his and she felt how she always did whenever they glanced at each other – a little bit anxious, a little bit horny and a little bit excited.

Nesta was worried if she opened her mouth, a thousand butterflies would float upwards from her stomach.

The look on his face, one she couldn’t place, slipped into something familiar as she drew nearer. Cassian smirked at her and followed it up with a slow, obvious glance from head to toe.

“Hello, Nesta.” He drawled his words, husky and deep. His voice was a baritone which always had her itching to dance across his words. Illyrian magic wasn’t the strongest but those who wielded it were.

What Illyrians wielded their magic for was anyone’s guess but if she had to, Nesta would have guessed it was for making panties drop if the turning heads of the crowd and little sighs was any indication.

There had been occasions where she too was driven with the need to show him more skin of hers then he deserved, to beg him to lay her down and cover her body in honey before licking it off with rasps of his tongue.

Must have been magic.

“Cassian,” she said with barely a nod and turned to his companion. “Azriel.”

Azriel nodded back a polite hello while Cassian leant against the bar directly facing her, wearing a grin as sharkish as Gwyn’s. She was like a lamb on the ground being circled by a taloned beast.

“Interesting performance.”

Azriel coughed at Cassian’s words, spluttering on the beer he was drinking and Nesta frowned, heat flooding her cheeks. Was he mocking her?

If he was, she wouldn’t give his smugly handsome self the satisfaction of getting to her and instead she ignored his words asking who else was here and where her sister was.

“Feyre, Rhys, Az and me. Amren came to watch the ballet but didn’t stay for drinks.”

“And where’s my sister and Rhys now?”

Cassian jerked his head over to the direction of the compartments. “They’re having a private ‘conversation’ behind closed curtains.”

Nesta’s face twisted in disgust. Fucking fae. Always fucking.

“Why didn’t Amren stay?”

“She never sticks around after The Nutcracker. Says it’s derogatory and insulting and she only comes to refill her well of rage.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, what was it she said Az? That the performances were brimming with cultural appropriation?”

The heat on Nesta’s cheeks turned into furnace. It wasn’t as though Cassian explicitly referred to Nesta’s performance but his words had to crawled under her skin. Feyre’s fae friends weren’t fans of Nesta’s, not after Rhys had spilled to them everything Feyre had told him.

For a group so ancient, they acted like spoilt human teenagers. Nesta would take the high road and try and find dignity in silence.

The bartender brought out another beer for Azriel and a glass of dark liquor for Cassian. A glass of wine from the Rosehall vineyard was handed to her and she was surprised someone had the foresight to order for her before she arrived, and with her favourite drink.

“Did you not like it then?” Nesta asked after taking a sip, her voice light. Azriel coughed again and this time Cassian shot him a glare, his rough-hewn face growing solemn before sliding into his more casual expression.

“There were some authentic Illyrian steps involved which is impressive. Didn’t realise old Eris had it in him.”

“It wasn’t Eris,” Nesta said, “It was me. I found an Illyrian choreographer in the city and she taught me some steps.”

Cassian’s face stilled for a moment, motionless like stone before letting out a roaring laugh which reverberated around the bar. The lesser fae behind him jumped and splashed his drink on the counter, quivering in fright.

“Well, that explains it!”

Nesta’s flesh prickled, her skin chilling in the overly warm bar. Goodness knows what she’d been dancing. Some dance of self-mockery probably. Her throat was burning and she didn’t understand whether she was upset because she thought Emerie liked her or upset because Cassian had seen.

Nesta’s fingers clenched the stem of the wine glass and she took a gulp of her drink, downing almost half as her hand wavered and her eyes watered. Cassian immediately stopped grinning.

“It was a beautiful dance,” Azriel said from her right and she turned to him, his face serious. “Other performances of The Nutcracker have the Illyrian dance as the violent, hostile war dance. Yours was the best one I’ve seen. Cassian liked it very much.”

Nesta whispered her thanks, looking between the Illyrians standing at either side of her who were now glaring at each other. She was out-flanked next to their bulk and she wished her sister was done doing whatever the hell she was doing so Nesta could say her hellos and goodbyes and get out of there.

“There’s only one Illyrian choreographer in this city,” Cassian said, his voice softer as his fingers trailed around his glass rim. “No other Illyrian would ever bother with this place.”

Nesta looked around the theatre at its gilded gold décor and red curtains but somehow knew Cassian was referring to Velaris as a whole. Illyrians never came to the city to visit, let alone live.

She glanced at him and found his smile was gentler and his hazel eyes, which always bordered on lascivious, were kinder somehow. Perhaps he hadn’t meant to mock her, perhaps he realised his raucous laughter had hurt.

He had no reason to care if he’d hurt her feelings and she shouldn’t have cared either but there had been a sting to his words which sunk deeper than she’d liked. She wasn’t opposed if he wanted to soothe over his words.

But she wasn’t about to let him know that. Instead, she fixed a bored expression onto her face. “Oh,” she said, looking into her glass as she swirled her wine around, “and who would that be?”

Cassian, still leaning against the bar, mirrored her by looking into his own glass before taking a sip.

“A friend of mine from the old country moved here a couple of years ago because her attempt at bringing ballet into the township was less than successful. You know her human name as Emerie.”

Cassian was still leaning against the bar, now looking into his own deep amber coloured liquid before taking a sip.

Nesta’s head snapped up to find Cassian now looking intently at her. “Yes, that’s her.”

“Figured,” Cassian said with a chuckle and took another long sip.

His mood seemed less jovial than before, more pensive and Nesta glanced around to discover Azriel had gone from her side. She looked around the crowds but didn’t see sight of him. How she lost an Illyrian of his stature she didn’t know but when she whipped her head around to the booth Cassian gestured towards earlier, the curtains were still closed.

She didn’t even have it in her to be irritated. The whole night was a wash-out and because of the stupid enchanted horse incident earlier closing streets, she was now adding additional time to her walk home.

“Well, then,” she said. “It’s been a long day and I’m tired; I have another two performances tomorrow and I want to head out and avoid any festive idiots.”

Cassian stood upright, alert and facing her, his glass sloshing the liquid violently as he placed it back onto the bar a little too hard. His wings flexed. “You haven’t seen Feyre yet.”

“If Feyre wanted to catch up with me then she wouldn’t be playing hide the fae penis with her boyfriend right now.” Her tone was sharp and she glared at Cassian. “It doesn’t take much to say a quick hello to your sister.”

Did Nesta care if Cassian thought her rude? Not a fucking bit. Despite Elain living an hour outside the city and Feyre only living on the other side, a journey which took less than a minute travelling by Winnow Express, Feyre was the sister Nesta saw the least.

“If she comes out at any point,” Nesta continued, “tell her I’ll call her.”

It wasn’t a lie when she said she was tired. Two performances a day took it out of her let alone when magic clung in the air at Solmas and let alone the fact that Nesta had used a tiny amount of her own as some kind of performance enhancer.

Whatever energy reserves she had was depleted, the glass of wine making her feel like she’d drank the entire bottle.

Nesta didn’t bother saying goodbye to Cassian, just left her empty glass on the counter and spun around.

Being a ballerina was on her side as she wove through the crowd and up into the foyer which was blissfully empty. Sadly, the world outside the doors was not so much and Nesta took a breath before wrapping herself in her stole.

The statues guarding the entrance waved her a goodbye, one with a human Santa hat adorning its head and the other with a fae garland wrapped around its waist. Nesta rolled her eyes. Human and fae decorations were put on everything so management could say they’d met their Equal Opportunities criteria.

Nesta stepped onto the pavement and looked down the street of the theatre district.

She couldn’t deny Velaris at night was beautiful.

History books stated the first fae who settled in the city were night dwellers and while they were able to survive in the sun, it was under the starlit sky where they thrived. So, the stories went that they made the night spectacular.

The ink black sky was painted with whorls of galaxies and splashed with stars. At first glance everything appeared white but when Nesta looked closer it was clear they were silver and gold and the purest, palest blue.

Feyre had once told her fae eyes saw more colours than humans and the stars were a multitude of colours – the rainbow and beyond. One of Feyre’s tattoos was designed to allow her to see what the fae saw.

The theatre district was still buzzing with humans and fae alike. Because of the nature of the city, it was usual for the streets to be filled until the early hours of the morning and after any performance in the theatre district there was no time for relaxing.

There was always residual magic left over from the ballet. The ballet theatre was the largest of the theatre buildings and so the magic started strongest at the end Nesta now stood before dissipating the further away you walked.

Snowflakes and flowers alike drifted down from the empty, cloudless sky. The Waltz of the Snowflakes and the Waltz of the Flowers often combatted against each other for prominence in their audience’s minds and refused to give in to each even after the show was done.

Thankfully, the Land of the Sweets didn’t involve themselves in this battle. They had done one performance many weeks ago and when chocolate rained from the sky it was delightful. Boiling hot coffee? Not so much.

Nesta navigated her way though the cobbles and crowds as petals landed in her hair and snowflakes melted on her eyelashes. She heaved a sigh of relief when she made it to the end past the gathered individuals who spilled out of the smaller theatres and theatre bars.

She turned left to go into a side street and stopped, almost tripping over her own feet.

Leaning against the wall, silhouetted against the streetlamps and fae lights was the hulking shape of an Illyrian.

“What are you-? How did you-?”

Cassian laughed as he used his elbow to propel himself from the wall and stride towards her. “What am I doing here and how did I get here so fast?”

“Well... yeah.”

“Wings,” he said, jabbing his thumbs in the direction behind him. “They come in useful from time to time. I thought I would fly you home.”

Nesta eyed up the wings behind him, remembering all the news reports of Illyrian Air. “No thank you, I like the walk.”

“Ok, then I’ll walk with you. Make sure you get home safe.”

She frowned. Nesta had lived in this city all her life and despite the occasional fae related incident which was brought on by personal vendetta, unavoidable prophecy from birth or magic spell gone wrong, Velaris was a safe place.  

It also helped that Nesta had that splash of fae blood herself and a glare which froze bones. Literally. There had been an incident with an ex-boyfriend but she’d filed an explanation with the police and it was never brought up again.  

“I’m fine,” she said. “I don’t need babysitting.”

“I know you don’t but I’d still like to walk you. Please.” The last word was said so softly she almost didn’t hear it but she caught the imploration.

Cassian stepped further into the light of a streetlamp, a few pale pink petals falling from his shoulders, desperation in his eyes.

Nesta sighed. “Fine, but I’m on the other side of the Sidra. The quickest route is over Mermaid Bridge.”

Cassian paused for a moment, “Mermaid Bridge? There won’t be any actual mermaids on it right?”

“Not at this time of year, the water’s too cold and they travel south.”

“Thank god, one of my ex’s was a mermaid. They are terrifying.”

Nesta shook her head, not able to imagine a creature of his size being scared of anything. They started walking in companionable silence. The further away from the city centre they strode, the more the crowds thinned.

Some shops remained open, including the café Nesta sat in earlier and groups had gathered around tables to laugh over mugs of frothy hot chocolate which overflowed with cream. Cinnamon, gingerbread, and candy cane scented the air.

As they walked, humans and fae alike paled when they crossed paths with Cassian and many darted out of his way. One lesser fae flattened himself against the red brick wall while another gave a quiet yelp and ran down an alley.

Nesta glanced up at Cassian but either he was pretending he didn’t notice the running onlookers or he didn’t care.

“What do you do?” she asked. She knew nothing about any of Feyre’s friends in any detail. “For that matter what do any of you do?”

Cassian laughed. “Rhys has a lot of inherited wealth, Amren trades precious stones – we think from the old dragon mines, and no one has a clue what Azriel does. I’m a bounty hunter.”

Oh.

“Caught anyone I’d have heard of?”

“Heard of the Tooth Fairy?”

Nesta grimaced, quickly swooping her tongue over her teeth. “Yes.”

“He was one of mine. So was the Bone Carver, the Weaver and Lanthys.”

Nesta’s eyebrows shot up. “Lanthys? The gold miner? What did he do? Wait, I don’t want to know. He asked me out once.”

Cassian glanced over at her; his own eyebrows raised. “Yeah? Did you say yes?”

Nesta pulled a face. “Good grief, no. He kept sending me telepathic dick pics. It’s bad enough being sent dick pics across dating apps.”

They approached Mermaid Bridge, which was, as Nesta said, devoid of the creature it was named for. Lights twinkled on the other side of the city, the residential side where Nesta lived. There were shrieks of delight further up the river in the dark and Nesta wondered if Gwyn was ice-diving next to Viviane’s ice rink.

Cassian coughed. “You’re on dating apps?”

“Not many, I thought I’d give them a go. My sisters are busy, I only have a few friends and I need something other than work in my life.”

“Yeah, I understand. ‘All work and no play’ make Cassian a dull boy too. The play part of life is fun,” he looked at her from the side of his eye and winked.

Nesta felt the blush spread across her cheeks and she willed it down with whatever force she had left. She wasn’t a virgin so she wasn’t about to start blushing like one.

They climbed the steps to the bridge and walked across. Of all the bridges which connected the two halves of the city, this was Gwyn’s favourite. Nesta’s human eyes couldn’t pick out the colours at night but in the day the railings glittered gold and shimmered with turquoise gems.

“Do you date?” The words slipped out before she stopped them. “You mentioned a mermaid ex so....”

Cassian’s laugh was more a breath and he started to smooth down non-existent knots in his hair. “Yes. Well...no. I did but work is busy and I’m sort of interested in someone and I guess until I purge them from my system, I’m not interested in anyone else.”

“How long have you been interested in them?”

“A while.”

“Why don’t you ask them out rather than eradicate them from your options?”

Nesta wanted to slap herself in the face. Or pitch herself off the bridge into the black, ice-cold water. Even as she was speaking, she wanted to not be but it was as though her mouth and mind had fallen out and no longer wanted anything to do with each other.

Cassian shrugged, “I guess. They just never struck me as someone interested in dating fae.”

They came to the end of the bridge and Nesta looked upwards at the sky. On this side of the river without the city lights, the stars were clearer to her eyes, more defined. One shot across the sky.

“You should go for it,” Nesta said, “you might be surprised.”

“Maybe,” Cassian sighed. “She’s kind of intimidating though.”

“You’re over six foot tall with massive wings and can use magic. I’m sure you’re more intimidating.”

“Me? Nah, I’m sure she thinks I’m an oversized bat.”

Nesta cringed. Those had been her words once a couple of years ago when she was first introduced to Feyre’s new friendship group and the Illyrian’s within. She didn’t think they’d heard her say it but then again, fae hearing was something exceptional along with fae sight.

The streets they walked were now quieter, the hustle and bustle of the inner-city gone. The chill settled in easier on this side of the river and Nesta knew she’d wake to frost across her window panes in the morning.

They were silent until they reached her apartment building, halfway up one of the steepest lanes. It was a small four storey which wasn’t spacious or modern but it gave her brilliant view across the river and Velaris and most importantly, it was hers.

“This is me,” she said, stopping outside the steps leading to the red entrance door. “Thank you for walking me back.” It was on the tip of her tongue to invite Cassian in for coffee but she held back.

He smiled, his eyes warm and shining. “Honestly it was my pleasure.” He leant forward, the sheer bulk of him covering Nesta and for a moment she thought he would kiss her but instead he took her slim fingered hand in his larger one and brought it up to his mouth, kissing the back of her hand.

“Goodnight,” he said, “I hope you have a good Solmas Day when it comes.”

Cassian was no ballet dancer but he sure moved like one, letting go of her hand and swivelling to face the direction they’d walked in from, marching down the slope of her street while Nesta stared at his retreating back.

He was clad in black and would have easily blended into his surroundings if not for the red jewels he wore at his wrists.

Nesta gaped down at the back of her hand, her mouth open. She still felt his lips, warm and soft, on her skin.

“Wait!”

Cassian turned back to face her, tilting his head.

“I’m sorry if my performance in the ballet was offensive.  I know Azriel said it was beautiful and that you liked it but if that was a lie to save my feelings, it’s ok. I went to Emerie because I wanted to make it authentic. I should have left it alone.”

Cassian smiled but it wasn’t mocking. He took a few steps back up the street towards her. “You know I said Emerie was a friend from the old country?”

Nesta nodded.

“She’s a really good friend. I like her a lot. She’s no nonsense with a great heart. I was trying to set her up with Rhys’ cousin Mor and in the process we got talking about dating and relationships and she asked if there was anyone, I was interested in. As it happens, I discovered this evening that she knows the person I was talking about. I’m sure she saw this as her opportunity to do some matchmaking of her own.”

“Oh,” Nesta said, her throat dry.

“Yeah. I also happened to tell her in one conversation I would be watching The Nutcracker this year on account of it being Solmas. So, there you go.”

The butterflies were flittering in Nesta’s stomach again and Cassian’s words were taking shape in her mind and building a story. “The steps Emerie taught me for the Illyrian dance – was that an invitation?”

Cassian’s smile stretched wide and he tilted his head back and laughed, the dark column of his throat shining in the starlight. “Oh yes, a very specific invitation. Emerie must have had the day of her life when she pieced everything together.”

The flittering in her stomach was now pooling in her chest. This type of conversation should have her fleeing up the steps and racing through the foyer until she threw herself into her cold bed to hide under the covers.

Nesta wanted to know what she’d inadvertently done without meaning to. Not that she minded whatever it was she’d done.

“What did I dance then, Cassian?” Her voice was lower than usual and rich like the overflowing cream in the café.

Cassian’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, his hazel eyes were almost black. “The dance you performed half naked on a heated stage was most definitely an invitation, Nesta.” He smiled at her again, soft like before but there was something behind it. Suddenly he was a wolf and she the lamb again. He was all claws and teeth and animal.

A shiver of anticipation ran through her. Her pulse beating in her throat, drawing Cassian’s eye.

“Oh, Nesta,” Cassian said, his voice almost a growl. “You performed an Illyrian dance of seduction.”

[halaboyz]

–– HEARTS // SUNWOO.

pairing: non-idol! sunwoo x gn! reader, close one eye for non-idol! hyunjae x gn!reader genre: angst, fluff + very, very cliche word count: 2.1k warnings // notes: profanities, no more that i know of ;; decided my first post to be the birthday boy! happiest birthday to the brightest ray of sunshine that deserves the whole world ♡ + you can find this scenario on my wattpad! i cannot find any time yet to write a new one so here you go,,

"I hate you." You cuss out to the man in front of you, sunwoo. "What did I ever do to you?" You furrowed your eyebrows as you looked at yourself in disgust, full of flour and eggs.

"I just like making fun of you," He held his belly while laughing, "You look definitely someone to make fun of." He nodded off and left you standing on the cold rooftop.

You looked up, heaving a deep sigh. You closed your eyes in high hopes of stopping the hurt and anger conquering yourself. Your thoughts were distracted when you felt something cold touch your nose, and lots more to your face afterward. You open your eyes to see, "Snow.." You mumbled to yourself.

"Yes, it’s snowing, and you're still here, only in your school uniform, and–– drenched in flour and eggs." You look behind you to see Hyunjae, your not-so-average closest guy friend, removing his padded jacket and walking towards you.

"It's okay, you wear that. I'm not very cold."

"You are. Your lips are pale." You rolled your eyes at his stubbornness, and let him put his jacket on you. "I'm not stupid enough to know that it’s not Sunwoo. I'm sorry, Ms. Cha got on the way and made me run some errands."

"Come on, it’s not like you can stop Sunwoo."

"But I promised you I'd protect you."

"I know that."

He sighed, "How'd he turn out that way though? You were the best-est friends."

You closed your eyes. You also didn't know. You were childhood friends, closer than close, but one day, the Kim Sunwoo you know just disappeared. He started making fun of you, throwing balloon paints at you, embarrassing you in class, tripping you with the food tray on your hands, and now, throwing flour and eggs on you. This was going on cycle for a year and you don't know until when you can take it. If he hates you, why can’t he just say it? 

Oh, and of course, the reason. Why did he suddenly turn out to be so cold and merciless to you? every question you wanted to ask is just getting many and many.

Until Hyunjae came, he once tried to save you from tripping but then one of Sunwoo's friends pushed him too so you fell with him. That day he promised to be your closest friend and to save you always. 

"Thank you Hyunjae."

"Suddenly?" He let out a breathy scoff that made you realize he was only wearing a hoodie and was breathing visible air already because of the coldness.

"You up for hugs?"

"With your egg and flour?" He laughs, "Why not?" He reached his arms to you and hugged you lovingly.

"Let's go in, you're freezing." You said, "You can use my jacket." As you made your way to the door, he pulled you.

"One step he takes towards you I'll do martial arts on him." He made silly moves to make it look like he can beat up Sunwoo in 2 punches.

You laugh and pull him in, "You're so gonna walk me home today to explain to mom that there was a.. project."

"I got you, even though it’s bad." He pointed at you while going down the stairs, giving a playful wink.

As you got down, you heard stomping feet away from you. As you look at the back of the person, you knew very well that it was Sunwoo.

you looked at Hyunjae as he was giving the same confused look. You both shrugged it off and proceeded to your room–– yes, you're attending classes that messy.

You stretch your back and arms up, hearing the bell signal dismissal. You fix your things, waiting for Hyunjae. He wasn't in the same section as you, so you really had to wait.

While waiting, you recalled how grumpy Sunwoo was in the remaining class after you met him on the rooftop.

You shook your head sideward and when you were about to stand up, enough of waiting for Hyunjae, you were met up with Sunwoo's eyes and face that was very close to you so you let out a big gasp.

"Shocked? We were more than this close before, y/n." He smirked and made himself closer to you slowly.

"What the fuck are you up to?" You said, trying your best not to stutter while moving backwards as much as you can. "You've done enough for today, Sunwoo. Please, let me go home." You tried dodging him but he held both sides of your chair.

"Oh no, you're not going home." He made his way closer and closer, until your faces were inches away. Your heart was beating faster and you didn't know why, and you don't want to know why. You closed your eyes tightly when he was closing the gap. "Are you and Hyunjae dating?" He has made his way close to your ears which made your blood rush up to your face.

You were just breathing heavily until he was pushed to the wall with a raging Hyunjae. He grabs Sunwoo by the collar and protectively holds you behind him. Sunwoo did nothing but give a smirk.

"Do not, ever think about getting close to y/n again. I'm fucking warning you." You instinctively held Hyunjae as he let go, got your things and you both walked out the door.

You were now on the bus taking the way home, Hyunjae still has furrowed eyebrows.

"Hyunjae.”

"Hmm?" He hummed without looking at you.

"Hyunjae, I'm sorry."

"Nah, I'm just kidding," His face turned absolutely opposite in a mere second, turning to you. "So what did he say?" Like a little girl, he wanted to know everything, every detail. So you did tell him. "Ah! you know what, I honestly think, from the bottom of my heart, to my guts and to the blood running insid––,"

"Just tell me!" You cut off his blabbering.

"He's just in love with you." Hyunjae smirked as you turned red again. Your heart beats faster, but to hide your redness, you hit him repeatedly.

"What the fuck's in your mind! Are you crazy! Why would he do these if he does! You’re insane!" Until you arrived at your stop, he just kept on laughing at you because your red face didn't fade one bit.

Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months.

It has been months and even once did Sunwoo talk, or even make fun of you again. you didn't complain though, but still you felt incomplete. On the other hand, you were now spending all of your spare time with Hyunjae. He was fun to be with, how come you just became friends with him this year?

"y/n!" Hyunjae shouted through the hallway. "I have something to tell you."

"Spill."

“I'm thinking of building my courage and asking my crush to prom!"

“That's nice," You laugh, “Why’d you tell me?” You raised your eyebrows.

“Are you going?” He ignored your question.

"I don't have plans to go to this prom," He raised his eyebrows at you. "What? It'll just tire you up dancing." You roll your eyes at the silly thought, but something inside you wants to experience prom.

"No, you need to go."

"I don't need to."

"You have to."

"I don't want to."

"y/n! Shit, I still have class. prom's on the day after tomorrow, I'll pick you up! I'll freaking drag you if I have to!" He waved as he made his way to another classroom.

You were on your way to your locker to get your things and go home, but as you open your locker, you find your favorite flower inside it, with a letter.

Go to prom with me?

You were beyond bewildered, no one knew your locker's password except.. Hyunjae and... Sunwoo?

You curse at yourself and look more in the letter but no name was written.

This handwriting isn't Hyunjae's.

You shrug the thought of Sunwoo asking you and thinking that he probably has a date already.

Prom night.

It was already prom night. You wake up early, the flower from the other day bringing good morning to you while sitting in your nightstand. You still don't know who gave it, but didn’t mind otherwise.

Why the fuck were you excited?

Weren't you supposed to have no plans?

Who is Sunwoo going with?

Questions start to bubble your mind again and it was none other than Sunwoo and Sunwoo only.

"Argh!" And you unintentionally slept again.

The loud ringing of the doorbell ruined your sleep and it was ringing nonstop.

"y/n, I'm not gonna stop until you let me in!" Hyunjae banged the door until you opened it. He made his way to the couch with his tuxedo.

"Oh, you look nice."

"I know. I look great." He scoffed. "Now go get ready gal, prom's in 5 hours."

"And you're already dressed?"

"That's because my mom wanted it, but I brought some spare clothes so I'm going to change here first and change again later, so that I won’t look a mess around girls who fawn at me." He fantasizes as you rolled your eyes.

You walk out your room prepared simply, and Hyunjae playfully claps at you.

"You look great." He winks at you, holding out his arm for you to hold as you walk to your flat’s parking lot.

You look at the car in front of you as Hyunjae takes careful steps with you. He opened the passenger's seat for you to take. As you were waiting for Hyunjae to speed off, you realize that there was also a car with a sticker of the school you were attending in.

"Huh, do I have any classmates in the same apartment?" You tilt your head as you think until Hyunjae sped off.

"Wow, this is very boring." You said as you just sit and watch couples dance. A lot have been offering their hands to you but politely decline it, reasoning you didn't know how to dance.

Hyunjae was beside you, reluctant to dance with others because he can’t just leave you alone.

"Have you noticed Sunwoo has been having his eyes on you the very moment he stepped out of his car after us?" He asks nonchalantly.

Your eyes now start to dart everywhere, looking for Sunwoo and as soon as your eyes landed on him, he avoided your eye contact and drank whatever was in his cup.

You scoffed and were surprised that Hyunjae stood up, offered his hand–– more likely pulled you to the dance floor.

"I'm bored, let's make Sunwoo jealous."

"You're really insane."

"Not,” He sassily cranes his neck. “Because what if I'm right? I might pass the prophecy." He laughed as he made you hug him in position for a dance; your arms on his neck while his hands on your waist.

You stayed like that for minutes until you were pulled outside.

"Alright, show's over." Sunwoo grunts, and Hyunjae just winks at you.

"Where are you going?" You ask him as he continuously pulls you and unintentionally tighten his grip on your wrist. "It hurts, Sunwoo, let go." He didn't budge one bit but just made it tighter. "I said it fucking hurts!" You stop and escape your wrist on his grip. You stopped in an empty garden that had a cool breeze.

"It hurts?" he scoffed, tears brimming in his eyes, "Do you even feel hurt? Then what do I call it when it’s worse? That's not all the pain you've given me, y/n! Do you know how much it fucking hurts seeing you so close with Hyunjae? Do you know how I felt that time when you were so happy the first time you got seated with him and not me? Do you know how random it feels to say I don't love you but my heart feels otherwise? Do you fucking know how it always hurt me that you say i hate you to me always, in hopes of you saying the opposite those times i always make fun of you?" Tears were now running down, and yours were threatening too. "Do you know how hard it is to avoid you, to avoid thinking that you and Hyunjae aren't dating?" His furrowed eyebrows made you scared of what was to happen.

"We aren't."

"Bullshit y/n!" You winced, "Bullshit! Sharing hugs, you're always together, yet you didn't even acknowledge the flower I put in your locker! You went with him this prom.." he exasperatingly exhales. "I'm doing my best to erase you from my mind and heart.. to say that I don't have any chance with you. But this heart," he points at his heart, "It beats for you.. It beats for you, it hurts." You let out a light chuckle, cupping his cheek to make him face you.

"Bastard, we aren't dating, you know how fond I am of cuddling with whoever." You smiled at him, "I don't know how love feels," his eyes lit up, "But it feels the same way you do.. It beats for you."

[nikki-writes-stuff]

At the Edge of the Woods (Werewolf!Steve x Reader)

Summary: When you move into a cottage on the edge of the forest, you’re ready to start a new life in a new, quiet town. But when you attract the attention of Steve Rogers, a man who everyone in town seems to dislike and fear, your world is turned upside down after he decides that you belong to him. 

Pairing: Werewolf/Alpha!Steve x Omega!Reader

Read part two here! 

A/N: Hey, guys! So a couple warnings about this one: it contains stalking, a/b/o dynamics, non-con, dub-con, breeding kink, and a whole lotta sin. Also, this is my first time writing anything with alpha/omega stuff in it, so be kind! And let me know if you liked it or if there’s anything I need to work on when writing about this sorta thing. Thank you so much, and enjoy!

It was love at first sight. From the moment you laid eyes on the cottage, you knew it would become your home. The thing was tiny, barely any bigger than a shack, and it was a good fifteen minutes’ drive from the nearest sign of civilization. But you didn’t care; you were enamored with the thick layer of ivy that had overtaken the western wall of the structure, and there were huge bushes of honeysuckle growing along the edge of the forest just a few feet from the backdoor.

And when your real estate agent told you the price of the property, the deal was immediately sealed.

“You’re kidding,” you’d deadpanned. “That’s all?”

“Yep,” she’d grinned, clutching her binder of properties tight against her chest. “Quite the bargain, huh?”

“I mean… Yeah,” you’d laughed. “It must be too good to be true. What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing, structurally,” she began, “The plumbing is on the older side of things, but it passed inspection. Same goes for the heating and air conditioning. There’s been a bit of a rodent problem in the past, but the appraiser said that a few mouse traps should do the trick to take care of that.”

Her smile had fallen at that point, though, and she shifted on her feet as she considered her next words.

“What is it?” you’d prompted.

“Well… The thing is,” she said sheepishly, “The locals have this superstition about the woods in this area. People say that they’re, uh…haunted.”

“…Haunted?”

You were barely able to contain an amused grin from overtaking your face, and with a shrug you turned back toward the kitchen, admiring the view of the trees through the little window above the stove.

“I know, it’s pretty weird,” the agent chuckled. “But people around here really do believe it. Something about an urban legend. I will say, though, that coyotes and wolves are known to roam around at night, so that’s probably where the paranoia comes from. Just try not to go out after dark. And if you get any chickens or outdoor animals, I’d keep them inside a kennel.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” you assured her. “I’m not exactly a farmer. I’m just looking for a place to settle down.

“And I think this cottage is the perfect spot.”

A month later, after the papers were signed and your possessions were moved in, you found yourself happier than you’d ever been in your new abode. You’d purchased house plants and artwork, designing the small space until it was exactly to your liking. You’d even decided to take up gardening, and your tiny back porch had become dotted with pots filled with flourishing herbs.

You fell into an easy routine. On Mondays, you would venture into town, picking up groceries from the local mart and picking up any other supplies you needed. Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays were dedicated to your work; you were the owner and manager of a blog that had become an overnight success several months ago, and so you spent those days curled up in the cottage, typing away at your laptop and creating content.

The only strange thing thus far had been the town residents’ reaction to you. Everyone was friendly, of course, and they’d made it clear that small town hospitality was a value the entire population seemed to share, but you weren’t oblivious to the way they side-eyed you. No one ever looked suspicious, per se, more like…expectant. Like they were waiting for you to say or do something, though you had no idea what it could be.

Earl, the bookstore owner, was by far one of the friendliest people you’d ever met, and after four weeks of the bizarre treatment, you finally asked him about it.

“Oh, don’t mind us,” he waved you off, sliding your new books into a paper bag. “It’s just that no one’s ever lasted long in that cottage o’ yours.”

“…Well, that’s a bit…unsettling. What happened to them?”

“Nothing,” he was quick to assure you. “Nothing bad happens to ‘em. It’s not like they’ve gotten hurt or anything. It’s just that, uh… Well. Strange things seem to happen in that part o’ the woods at night, and it’s scared the last couple o’ tenants off.”

“Huh… My real estate agent did mention something like that,” you admitted, starting to feel an irrational spark of apprehension. “What kind of things did they see?”

“Well… I don’t wanna scare you away,” he grumbled, scratching at his salt-and-pepper beard.

“I promise you won’t. I really like where I’m at right now. I’m just…curious, I guess.”

Earl seemed to consider it for a moment before giving in.

“Alright,” he sighed. “But for the record, I don’t believe any of the silly nonsense some folks ‘round here like to gossip about. This is a quiet town – a safe town. The only dangerous thing about this place is Mary Jo’s strawberry rhubarb pie down at the soda shop – I swear those things are the reason I got diabetes.”

You chuckled at Earl, and he gave you a warm smile before leaning towards you over the counter, propping himself up on his elbow.

“So, anyways, back to your house,” he started. “The last people there were this younger couple. They were nice kids – had just gotten hitched. But after a few weeks, they said they started noticin’ howls at night. Now, that’s normal for this area; we’ve got some wolves. But these howls were close, so loud that it woke em’ up most nights.

“Then, they started seeing people walking around the property around midnight. It coulda’ been that they were smokin’ some stuff they shouldn’a been smokin’, but they swore up and down that they saw naked men traipsin’ around. One time, there was one on their back porch, and the husband ran out to chase him off, but as quick as they saw him, he vanished.

“Again, I don’t know if I believe all of that junk,” Earl huffed. “But… the old lady who lived there before the couple said the same thing before she passed away, god rest her soul. And ol’ Lizzy didn’t lie about this sorta thing.”

You made a quiet hum of contemplation, nodding.

“Well,” you eventually spoke, “if I see any naked men hanging around, I have my handy dandy taser.”

A wide grin broke out over the older man’s face, and he reached over the counter to cuff your shoulder.

“Thata girl,” he chuckled. “I like it. And if you do see people hangin’ around on your property, give me a call, ok?” He fumbled around for a business card, eventually opening the cash register and pulling one out. “Call the bottom number if anyone gives you trouble, ok? I know I’m not the most intimidating guy around, but I keep a shotgun at the house just in case. And if the wolves become a problem, call the police. They’ll send some guys over from animal control to chase ‘em off.”

“Thanks, Earl,” you smiled, tucking the card into your wallet. “Oh, and before I forget, do you have any stationary? Letter writing paper, colored pens, that sort of thing?”

“I’m afraid we don’t. Oh, but Greg and Lou would probably have some. Try their art supply store; it’s right around the corner on the left side o’ the road.”

With that, you thanked Earl and walked out, clutching your paper bag of novels to your chest. You had to admit that the idea of wolves on your property was starting to scare you, but the thought of a naked guy just hanging out in the woods was enough to make you laugh to yourself. Even if it was true, you’d dealt with weirdos before. If that was the worst of your problems, then you’d be a happy camper.

You followed Earl’s instructions and immediately spotted a quaint store with a sign over the door reading “The Brushstroke”. Upon walking inside, you were greeted by the smell of paper and ink, and papier mache mobiles were hanging from the ceiling every few feet, dancing in the breeze that had flown in after you opened the door. Two men were standing behind the counter, sipping from steaming mugs of tea, and their heads popped up as you walked in.

“Hey, there!” one of them called, giving you a wave. “Welcome; come on in.”

“Hello,” you replied with a smile.

“We haven’t seen you around before,” the other man remarked, a kind smile on his face. “You wouldn’t happen to be the new girl in town, would you?”

“Word spreads quickly, I guess.”

“It does when you live in a town like this,” he nodded. “I’m Lou, by the way. And this is my husband Greg.”

Greg nodded in greeting, and you gave them a wide smile.

“It’s nice to meet you guys.”

“Likewise, hon. Can we help you find anything?”

You told them what you were looking for, and they instructed you towards the back of the store, where you found a wall filled with rows of neat packets of paper right next to a cubby of pens of all types and colors. You took your time in making your selections, not even noticing the door of the shop opening and closing; it was only when you heard Greg and Lou’s quiet conversation come to an abrupt halt that you glanced around the corner to see what was going on.

Your eyes widened when you saw the man standing in front of the counter; he was tall, maybe a few inches over six foot, and built like a tank. A thick, well-groomed beard adorned his face, and his hair was on the longer side, curling just past his ears in thick, easy waves. Despite the chilly weather outside, he was only dressed in a blue long-sleeved t-shirt and jeans, and you watched his biceps bulge under the fabric as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“…Steve,” Greg finally said. “Long time no see.”

The man – Steve, evidently – nodded his head as he approached the counter.

“Wh-what can we do for you?” Lou asked, seeming to shrink back as he walked towards them.

“I need a new sketchbook,” Steve mumbled, almost too quietly for you to hear. His voice was deep, resonating, and something about its gravelly edge made goosebumps rise up over your arms.

“You know where to find ‘em,” Greg stated after clearing his throat. “Just get whatever you need and go.”

It looked as if Steve was about to say something, but after a pause, he just nodded, ducking his head and turning directly towards you. You stiffened as he grew nearer, feeling an unexplainable urge to turn and run away from him, but then his eyes met yours, and you were frozen in place.

Blue irises stared directly into you, and you watched as surprise washed over his features. His nostrils flared as he took a deep breath in through his nose, and you swore that you saw his pupils dilate as he looked you up and down. When his gaze finally met yours again, and you stumbled back a step, stunned at the look on his face. It was as if he knew you.

But that couldn’t be; you’d never seen this man before. If you had, you definitely would’ve remembered him.

“I-I…” you stuttered. “I’m sorry.”

You weren’t sure what you were apologizing for, but all of a sudden you were broken out of your strange stupor. Fixing your eyes firmly on the floor, you turned and blindly grabbed the first stack of papers that your extended hand came in contact with. You did the same with the pens, grabbing a random pack before turning on your heel and heading towards the front.

Or, rather, heading directly into a broad, firm chest. You hadn’t heard any footsteps, but while your back was turned Steve had apparently stalked up behind you, and now you were so close that you could smell the distinct scent of pine wafting off of him. Pine and…something else, something musky. It made your mouth water and your eyes flutter shut, and you could have sworn that you heard a deep growl sound from his chest.

The noise startled you so badly that you dropped everything, even your paper bag from Earl’s, and you felt as if your entire body was trembling as you turned away. On unsteady feet, you walked back to the front, glancing at Greg and Lou out of the corner of your eye as you headed towards the door. Lou was watching you with a concerned expression painted across his face, but Greg was still staring Steve down, as if he were sizing him up.

The cold, early-spring wind hit you square in the face once you exited the store, and it sobered you up enough to cease your nervous trembling. There was still a sense of blind panic, though, a deep-seated fear that drove you to march over to your car without turning back.

As you peeled out of your parking space and sped towards your home, you slowly began to calm down, taking slow, even breaths to slow the frantic beating of your heart. As you put more and more distance between you and the mysterious man from the art store, you found that, even later on when you were safe in your home, you still couldn’t rationalize why you’d felt the way you had. And that evening, when you were getting ready to go to bed, you couldn’t help but feel like you were being watched.

Typically, you kept the curtains in your bedroom open, enjoying the sight of the forest laying just beyond the panes of glass. But tonight, before going to bed, you drew them shut before burrowing under the covers, hiding away from the lingering, unexplainable dread that had followed you home that day.

____________

You weren’t sure what had woken you. When you jolted out of your slumber, you were laying sprawled out over your mattress, your sheets tangled around your ankles. Everything was quiet, unsettlingly so. It was as if your cottage was holding its breath, waiting for something horrible to happen. The world was black beyond your windows, and the clock on your bedside table read 3:42 in the morni-

Wait.

The lingering tendrils of sleep within your brain melted away as you bolted upright, your wide eyes focused on your windows and the curtains that were neatly pulled away from them. Your heart was pounding in your ears as you slowly, deliberately, stood up from your bed, reaching for your phone blindly as you kept your eyes on the windows.

You drew the curtains closed as your thumb hovered over the emergency call button, and you gulped before turning towards your open bedroom door.

“H-hello?” you called out, voice still thick with sleep.

There was no answer, and you took a deep breath before stepping out into the living room. You were relieved to find nothing out of place; the kitchen, as well, was in perfect order, as was your tiny bathroom. You grew bolder as you searched your house, checking underneath your bed and inside of your wardrobe, but still you found nothing.

Eventually, you sauntered over to your back door, and that’s when you smelled it. Smelled him. The same scent that had flooded your senses back at the bookstore was thick in the air right next to the backdoor. You blinked rapidly, feeling a stirring in your gut as you inhaled it, and you gulped as you faced the door.

“…Steve?” you murmured, suddenly unable to make a sound any louder than a whisper.

Without realizing what you were doing, your hand came up to the doorknob, tracing the curve of it with your thumb. A tiny, experimental twist revealed that it wasn’t locked, and a small voice in the back of your head supplied that it was sure you’d locked it before going to sleep.

One more twist, and the door popped open, goosebumps rising up over your skin as the night air rushed over you. You turned on the porch light with a flick of your fingers and stepped out, wincing when the floorboards creaked under your feet. You half expected to see a naked man standing there just as Earl had said, but there was nobody.

You let out a shaky laugh, leaning against the doorway as your eyes flitted over the forest. You felt silly, getting all paranoid for no reason. With a small, sheepish smile, you straightened up and turned to head back inside, eager to climb back under your warm sheets and forget about the whole thing.

But that was when you saw it.

You stopped in your tracks and sucked in a deep breath as the wolf sauntered out from the tree line, its eyes focused directly on you just as yours were focused on it. Its fur was sandy and mottled with streaks of light brown and creamy white, and in the dim light you thought that you caught a flash of blue in its eyes. You took a step backwards as that same smell washed over you, and for a short, fleeting moment, you thought that there was something familiar about the beast.

It took another step towards you, and that was when you realized how massive it was. You’d seen pictures of wolves on the internet; you knew how big they were supposed to be compared to people. But this was another thing completely; this wolf looked to be the size of a grizzly bear, and you knew that if it were to stand up on its two hind legs, it would tower over you.

Abruptly, you broke out of your paralysis, blinking rapidly as you turned back towards your door. You heard a growl from behind you, but you ignored it as you fled back into your house, slamming the door shut and turning the lock back into place. A thud sounded on its other side, followed by the scratching of claws against wood.

You waited several moments, silently begging the animal to stop, but the thumping only carried on, accompanied by muted, distressed whining. Taking a deep breath, you turned to your phone, punching in ‘911’ and holding the device up to your ear.

“911, where is your emergency?”

“U-um… I-I’m at 432 Nottington Lane. Please, there’s this, this wolf outside and it’s trying to get it, and…”

As you spoke, the noises suddenly stopped. You paused, frowning at the door and straining your ears. But everything had once more gone silent.

“Hello, ma’am? Ma’am, are you still there?”

“Yeah… Yeah, I’m still here. Um… I think it’s gone now. It’s… Yeah, it’s gone. I’m really sorry to bother you guys. Just, uh… Just ignore this call, please. I’m sorry.”

You hung up and set your phone down on the kitchen counter, staring hard at your back door.

“…Shit.”

_______________

You didn’t close your curtains again after that night. You told yourself it was because there was no reason to, that you had nothing to hide yourself from. But, in the back of your mind, you knew that it was because you were too afraid of waking up with them open of someone else’s accord.

Two days went by with no further incident. You kept up with your little routine, throwing yourself into your work and acting as if you weren’t still shaken up from the ordeal. You called Earl and let him know you’d seen a wolf, just like he’d said, and the two of you had laughed over the scare it had given you. But the laughter didn’t reach your eyes or your heart, and it was still hard for you to fall asleep whenever night came around.

On the third day, though, you decided that you needed to get out. Every time your eyes strayed to the forest, you felt a pinprick of anxiety, and you were desperate to forget about what had happened. And so, dressing in your most comfortable leggings and oversized sweater, you ventured out into town, stopping for breakfast at the soda shop.

Mary Jo’s Soda Shop had been open and owned by Mary Jo herself since before you were born. It was located right in the center of town, and it was the closest thing to ‘busy’ that the small township’s population could be capable of. The front porch was lined with old, worn rocking chairs, and empty planter boxes sat beneath every single window; you were sure that they’d be overflowing with petunias as the weather turned warmer.

The atmosphere was warm and cozy as you stepped inside. People of all different races and walks of life found solace under Mary’s roof, and it was clear by the easy smiles, easy laughter, and easy conversation that pervaded the dining room. A teenaged girl, who you’d later find out to be Mary Jo’s granddaughter, showed you to your table and took your order, and as you settled down into the cracked-leather seat of your booth, you found yourself finally relaxing.

It was easy to get lost in your own thoughts, especially with the dull roar of voices and the soft sounds of country music playing over the radio as background noise. You stared off into space as you sipped your orange juice, content to just zone out for a few moments and let your brain go on autopilot.

Maybe that was why it startled you so much when a man abruptly slid into the seat across from you. You were pulled out of your revelry by a dark shadow suddenly appearing in your peripheral vision, and your initial fright only deepened when you looked up to see who it was.

“Steve…”

The man from yesterday was staring you down, dressed this time in a red and black flannel. His hair, too, looked like it had been combed out, and his beard was shiny and soft-looking, as if he’d rubbed oil into it that morning.

You didn’t know what to say as he sat across from you, his fingers laced together on top of the table, and for an uncomfortably long moment, the two of you were completely silent.

“What’s your name?” he finally asked, and you arched your eyebrow at him.

“Why do you want to know?”

A muscle in his jaw ticked, and he let out a long sigh through his nose. He didn’t answer your question, and you started to shift in your seat as he continued to stare.

Finally, you told him, murmuring your name under your breath. Upon hearing it, he nodded, finally glancing up when your waitress came back to take your order. When her eyes fell onto the man seated across from you, she visibly paled, her mascara-lined eyes widening as her smile turned to a grimace.

“Mr. Rogers,” she said timidly, “my grandmother told you not to come in anymore-“

“It’ll be fine, Rosie,” he grunted. “I won’t cause any trouble; I’m just talking with (Y/N), here.”

Rosie looked over to you, and you blinked up at her, hoping your incredulity was showing through in your eyes.

“I… I’m not sure…”

Steve huffed and looked over at you, a predatory edge appearing in his visage.

“Go on,” he encouraged you. “Tell her.”

“I really don’t-“

Suddenly, his scent was flooding your senses once more, and you almost gagged on your words as you breathed it in. You wondered why Rosie didn’t seem to notice it as it washed over you, nearly suffocating in its intensity.

“I, uh…” Your voice trailed off distractedly, and Steve’s knee nudged yours under the table.

“I-it’s fine,” you finally managed to stutter, and a pleased smirk appeared over his features.

“See? Everything is fine,” he insisted. “Now, weren’t you coming to take our orders?”

Rosie hesitated, but finally she slipped a notepad out of her pocket and nodded.

“Perfect. I’ll have the sampler with crispy bacon. Eggs over easy. And, uh… a biscuit on the side,” Steve listed off.

After a moment of silence, he cleared his throat, prompting you to jump a little before telling Rosie what you would like.

“Oh! Uh… I’ll have the same,” you muttered, though you hadn’t really been planning on eating anything of the sort.

But Rosie jotted it down in her notepad, all but fleeing to the kitchen after you were done speaking.

“And I’ll take some coffee!” Steve called after her.

When it was finally just the two of you, he once again gave you his full attention, and you fought to keep your mind straight.

“I don’t…know you,” you mumbled, squeezing your eyes shut. “I don’t know you, and you’re making me uncomfortable. Please, just-“

“I really liked the nightgown you had on last night.”

Your eyes bugged open, and your head shot up to look at him. You felt your blood run cold as he watched you with that same smirk he’d worn while ordering Rosie around, and you clutched your purse tighter to yourself.

“Wh…What did you just say?”

“You heard me,” he insisted. “How are you liking living in that cottage? The last few people there-“

“What the fuck,” you interrupted. “You…you were watching me?”

He sighed at your interruption but nodded, leaning forward on his elbows.

“And you were watching me.”

“No,” you shook your head. “I never saw you, or I would’ve called the cops-“

“But you did see me,” he insisted. “While I was in my other form.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, but then understanding came over you, and you shook your head.

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered. “You mean…the wolf?”

Steve nodded, looking up when Rosie came back with his coffee. She all but slammed the cup on the table, spilling a few drops of the beverage as she poured it. After shooting him a sour glare, she turned on her heel to attend to the other tables around you, the occupants thereof starting to notice who you were sitting with. The din of voices had gone just a bit quieter as they watched him, and you were starting to realize that the entire town knew who Steve was, and judging on the locals’ reaction to him, his reputation wasn’t on the favorable side of things.

“So… Let me get this straight,” you deadpanned, watching as Steve took a sip from his steaming mug. “You’re saying that you were the wolf I saw?”

He nodded, swallowing his coffee.

“I’m among the last of my kind,” he sighed, tapping his fingers against his cup. “At least in this area of the country. But, yeah, that was me, scratching at your door. I was honestly a little hurt by your reaction-“

“You’re fucking insane.”

A scowl overtook his features, and his hands tensed as his fingers went still.

“I would really prefer it,” he growled, “if you didn’t use that sort of language with me, Omega.”

“Ome- What?” You shook your head, unable to process how insane this man really was. “Ok, I’m done here.”

You grabbed your purse and stood up from the booth, but a hand clamped down on your upper arm as you made for the front door.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Steve insisted, and you felt fear course through you at how possessive he’d just sounded. “We have a lot we need to talk about.”

“Let go of me!” You tried to pull away from him, but you might as well have been struggling against an iron chain. Steve didn’t budge as he held you in place, and a whimper escaped your throat as he began pulling you to sit next to him in the booth.

“Steve.”

Both of you froze when you heard the voice, and you looked up to see three men standing over your table, frowning at the man who still had a firm hold on you.

“Steve, let the girl go,” one of them said, and you saw Steve’s lip curl out of the corner of your eye.

“Rhodey,” he grunted. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Not long enough,” the man fired back.

For a second, you were afraid that Steve was going to ignore them, but then his grip on you disappeared. You hurriedly stood up again, backing away until you were out of arm’s reach from him. The entire restaurant was silent as everybody within held their breath, watching Rhodey and Steve stare one another down.

“This isn’t any of your business,” Steve said, and it was then that you realized you couldn’t wait there any longer. You didn’t care how it played out; you just wanted to get out of there.

And so, while everyone was distracted, you turned on your heel and slipped out, pushing past the front door, running past the rocking chairs and planter boxes, crossing the street without first looking both ways. Your heart was pounding a mile a minute, and you didn’t fully know where you were running to until you were standing in the entry way of Earl’s bookstore.

“Hey, there,” he called out to you, but his typical cheerful greeting died on his tongue when he saw your face. “What happened?”

Twenty minutes later, you and Earl were seated in his office. You’d told him everything, save for the way Steve’s scent affected you. You knew it was crazy, and you didn’t want one of your only friends in your new town to think you were as insane as your stalker.

“…Shit.”

It was the first word he’d uttered since you began telling him your tale, and he rubbed his forehead as he took in your story.

“Shit. I mean… I always knew there was something off about that Rogers boy,” he admitted. “But he’s never pulled anything like this.”

You quirked an eyebrow, glancing up at him.

“Why does everyone dislike him?” you asked. “It seems like the whole town has something against him.”

Your friend sighed and sat back in his chair, stroking his beard in thought.

“It didn’t used to be that way,” he started. “Steve, he grew up here. He was always the golden boy – never cursed, never acted disrespectful. Hell, he was a boy scout for years, and all throughout high school he was the team quarterback. He won so many games that he became a local celebrity.

“But, uh… Well. Shit hit the fan the day he turned 18.”

You frowned; you couldn’t picture the crazy, creepy man you’d just been borderline-assaulted by as a popular, polite teenager.

“What happened when he turned 18?” you asked.

Earl hesitated, wringing his hands. For a pregnant pause, he didn’t say anything, but finally he took a deep breath.

“Look, I don’t personally have anything against the guy,” he finally huffed. “But even I get the creeps when I’m around him. That boy, he was never the same after that fourth of July. Hell, the town hasn’t been the same since.”

You raised your eyebrows expectantly, and finally Earl began the story.

“Steve’s folks were a nice couple. He was their only kid, so each year, Sarah and Joseph would throw Steve this big birthday party. I’m talkin’ fireworks, barbeque, the whole nine yards. But his 18th birthday outdid them all; the whole town practically showed up for it.

“But Steve was off the entire day; I think he was sick or something. He was real sweaty, and his eyes were all…red. Like he’d been scratchin’ at ‘em. And when the fireworks started goin’ off… The boy lost it.

“It was like a flip switched in him; next thing we knew, he was takin’ off into the woods, holdin’ his head like his skull was gonna split in two. His mama went runnin’ after him, and then his pops went to get ‘em after about five minutes or so when there was no sign of them comin’ back.

“After half an hour, we went searchin’ for ‘em, and it wasn’t till dawn that we found the three of them.”

Earl took a deep breath, rubbing his eyes with a trembling hand as he recalled the memory.

“I was in the team that found his parents, and… Hon, they were butchered. The bodies, they were hardly recognizable. Big bites had been taken outta them; blood was everywhere. Another team found Steve about half a mile away, completely naked and shivering by the river.”

“Oh, my god,” you murmured. “That’s… That’s horrible.”

Your friend nodded gravely, but he wasn’t done yet.

“We all figured that it was a coyote that got ‘em,” he continued. “Or a wolf. But Steve… He was in shock, you see, so take what I’m about to say with a grain o’ salt. But all the way to the police station, he kept sayin’… He kept sayin’, ‘I didn’t mean to kill them… I didn’t mean to kill them.’

“O’ course, no one really believed him; it was clear that an animal had gotten to them, and this was Steve Rogers we were talking about. The kid had never said an unkind word to anyone. And his family got along great.

“A few years passed, and Steve was never the same, but we expected as much. Everyone was still nice to him, and he tried for a while, you know? But then Peggy moved into town.”

“Who’s Peggy?”

“She was this real nice girl – British. She moved with her family to the area. Shoot, she was a firecracker. Didn’t take any shit from nobody; the whole town fell in love with her. Including poor ol’ Stevie.

“When the two started dating, we were thrilled for ‘em. Steve was finally starting to act more like himself; you shoulda seen him. The kid was head over heels, and she was the same. About six months went by, and we really thought that they were gonna make it.

“But then…”

Earl swallowed thickly, eyes darting back up to your face before resting once again on his hands.

“Peggy was found one day in the woods, just like Steve’s parents – mauled, butchered…dead.”

“Jesus Christ…”

“No one saw or heard from Steve for years after that. The kid just vanished into thin air without warning. And so soon after Peggy’s death, well… You can imagine the rumors that started flying around about him. Five years went by, and that was when people started hearing and seeing strange things in the woods. And your cottage, it’s right by where the bodies were found; you can’t be more than a quarter of a mile from where they found Peg.

“Eventually, Steve moved back into town, though no one recognized him. He’d always been a skinny, lean kinda guy, but when he moved back, he looked like he does now. And even if he hadn’t changed so much on the outside, no one would’ve recognized the polite young man we’d all watched grow up in this new Steve. He was mean; I can’t tell you how many fights he got in at the bar, or how many times he lashed out at someone just to have an excuse to throw some punches.

“Whatever happened to his family and his girl, he’s never been the same since. And if he really believes what he told you earlier at the soda shop, then he’s finally lost his mind.”

___________

You spent the night at Earl’s house. He and his wife set up their guest bedroom for you, and as you and Sherry ate dinner, Earl called the sheriff. You listened in as he told him everything that Steve had done, including watching you the night before, and after ending the call, Earl gave you the sheriff’s number.

“He said to call him at the first sign of trouble,” Earl instructed. “And he said that he’s gonna head over to Steve’s cabin to have a nice, long talk with him. Don’t you worry; Sheriff Wilson is a tough son of a bitch, and he’s a great man. You’re in good hands with him.”

You thanked the couple profusely, and you were finally able to sleep restfully through the night, knowing that you weren’t alone. You didn’t even mind that you could hear Earl and Sherry’s snoring from all the way down the hall; you hadn’t had such a good night’s sleep in days.

The next morning, Sheriff Wilson stopped by after Sherry had served up breakfast, and you had to admit that you did feel better after talking to him.

“So I set everything straight with Steve,” Sam explained. “He said that he’d been drunk that morning at breakfast, and he admitted to saying some things that he regretted. He asked me to apologize to you on his behalf, and he said that he would stay away from you from here on out, if it would make you more comfortable.”

“I’d be more comfortable if he moved to a different country altogether, but I’ll take it,” you’d joked weakly, coaxing a laugh out of the sheriff.

“Well, I’ll run it by him the next time we see each other,” he’d chuckled. “But for now, I think you’ll be just fine.”

After helping Sherry clean up from breakfast, you reluctantly got into your car and started back to your cottage, feeling your short-lived relief start to dwindle away as you approached your home. Who’s to say that Steve would stay true to his word? And there was something about the memory of him calling you ‘omega’ that didn’t sit well with you. You had no idea what that meant, but the conviction, the possessive, commanding tone in his voice still made shivers crawl up and down your spine.

Once you stepped into your cottage, you gave each room a cursory once-over, making sure nothing was out of place before plopping down onto your couch with your laptop. You were severely behind on work, and you needed the distraction to calm your nerves.

Before you knew it, the sun was starting to slip over the horizon, and as the evening turned to night, your eyelids started drooping. You’d finally managed to catch up on work, and although it took you until 9 o’clock at night, you were back on schedule with your blog.

Finally giving in to your sleepiness, you stood up and stretched before methodically going around to each door and window, making sure that they were all closed and locked. After once more checking that Steve wasn’t hiding in your wardrobe, shower, or backyard, you relaxed and went into your bedroom, changing into a flannel pajama set before crawling into bed.

Sleep came easily to you that night, but it didn’t stay for long.

_________

It was, once again, just after 3 in the morning when you woke up, although there was something different about this time around. There was an almost electric charge to the air, and it immediately made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. You sat up in bed and looked around your room, and even though the curtains were still closed, just as you’d left them, you immediately noticed the smell.

Your hand fell onto your nightstand, blindly fumbling for your phone, but it wasn’t where you’d left it. Panic pierced through you, and you frantically reached for your charging chord, but it was no longer plugged into your cell. There was, however, something new sitting on your bedside table, and you flicked your lamp on to see clearly what it was.

Your blood went cold when you saw the paper bag from Earl’s, still filled with your new books, just as you’d left it in the art shop.

“I’d been meaning to give that back to you.”

A scream tore itself out of your lips, and your hand flew up to clap over your mouth as you turned to the man now leaning in your doorway.

Steve was watching you with an amused smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. His hair was wild, and you noticed the way his chest rose and fell with quick, uneven breaths. He looked…unhinged, and Earl’s voice started ringing in your ears, telling you all the gory details about the deaths that had followed this man through his life.

“Steve, please,” you begged, pressing your back against your headboard. “I don’t know what you want-“

“Oh, c’mon,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “You’re a smart girl; I’m sure you can put two and two together.”

With that, he pushed off of the wall and sauntered towards you, ignoring the way you trembled as he took a seat on the edge of your bed.

“I read your blog, by the way,” he remarked. “I actually liked it; you’ve got a talent with writing.”

You gulped, not sure what to say as he turned to face you. For a moment, something flashed through his eyes, something other than the smug cynicism that usually dwelled there, but he looked away before you could get a good look at it.

“I’m sure Earl told you a lot of things about me,” he murmured. “And I’m sorry that’s how you had to hear them. But I’m not… I don’t want to hurt you. Honestly.”

“Wow, that really puts me at ease,” you grumbled. “It definitely makes the fact that you’ve broken into my house twice now totally ok.”

Steve huffed, and annoyance crossed his handsome features.

“Careful, omega,” he grunted. “I’m trying to be nice, here.”

You wanted to snap at him that he should really try harder, then, but you kept your mouth shut, knowing that you didn’t want to anger him if you didn’t have to.

“…Why do you keep calling me that?” you instead asked, and the fire in his gaze cooled just a bit.

“…I’ve given this a lot of thought,” he finally sighed. “And I can understand why this all sounds so crazy; if I were in your situation, I would probably think the same thing. But just… hear me out, ok? I’m going to tell you everything I know.”

You nodded, hugging your knees to your chest, and after another deep breath he began.

“I used to be normal, or so I thought,” he began. “I used to be like you; I didn’t know what was out there. I didn’t know that certain legends that we’ve all learned to accept as fiction were actually based on fact. But that all changed on my 18th birthday.

“That was the day that I first turned into a wolf.” Steve paused, looking pained for a moment, but after swallowing thickly he continued. “I had no clue what was happening to me. I just felt…wrong, like I was being torn apart from the inside. I fought to keep control of myself, but… I couldn’t keep it in anymore.

“People got hurt; I’m sure you’ve been told all the gritty details. But that wasn’t… It wasn’t me. I tried so hard, so goddamn hard, to keep it inside, bottled up, but eventually I couldn’t hold back anymore. And that was when I left.

“I went looking for people like me. It took me a while, but eventually I found a small group of them in New York. They called themselves the Howling Commandos.”

Steve laughed, shaking his head.

“Not the name I would’ve chosen, but they were good people. They helped me control it, taught me how to remain myself even when I’m in my other form. And I learned more about what it means to be a, uh…

“Werewolf.”

You bit your lip, staring at him as you grew even more fearful; he believed this. You could tell by the way his eyes were glistening with barely-contained tears, and if you weren’t so terrified of him, you would feel sorry for how sad he looked.

“Steve, you… you must realize that this is hard for me to believe, right? I mean… This isn’t Twilight; this is the real world.”

He rolled his eyes at the mention of that book.

“There’s about a thousand things wrong with that fucking story, and I’ll die mad about it,” he muttered under his breath, and you hugged yourself tighter as he stood up.

“You want me to prove it to you? Fine.”

Steve stood still for a long moment, closing his eyes, and you found your gaze straying to the door behind his back. He was distracted, evidently focused on transforming into a fucking wolf, oblivious to you as you slowly moved to set your feet on the floor.

Now is your moment, your brain whispered, and after taking a deep breath, you leapt to your feet. You didn’t notice the way his skin was slowly starting to grow patches of blonde fur, nor did you register that his voice had become more of an animalistic growl as he realized that you were trying to run. You were solely focused on making it out alive.

The back door was closer to you than the front, and you could practically feel Steve’s breath on the back of your neck as he gave chase, and so you nearly yanked the door off of its rusty, old hinges as you went flying out onto the back porch. You just barely managed to close the door behind you, and right before it slammed shut, you were able to make out an open maw filled with sharp teeth. The same thumping you’d heard several nights ago sounded from within your home, but with the way the wood was creaking and splintering, you knew it wouldn’t keep Steve trapped inside for long.

You began to run towards your car, but with a curse you realized that your keys were still resting on your coffee table inside the cottage, and you wouldn’t go back inside there if someone offered you a million dollars to. So, fully aware of what a terrible idea it was, you started running down the length of your gravel driveway, the small stones and twigs digging into your feet until you felt them starting to grow slick with blood.

You didn’t get far at all before you heard the sound of a low, deep howl split the silence of the night, and you pumped your legs even faster when you heard heavy footfalls starting to give chase behind you. Frantically, you turned and made a beeline for the forest, hoping to lose him in the woods. Low branches and brambles clawed at your face, and the cuts on your feet burned so bad that tears started rolling down your cheeks.

It was simultaneously an eternity and a millisecond before you felt a massive weight crash into you from behind, and with a cry you fell onto your belly. Your arms and legs scrambled about as you tried to crawl away, but you stopped with another scream when a set of impossibly sharp teeth nipped at your shoulder. Even though they didn’t cut deep, it was still enough to scare you into submission, and you immediately went still as your captor panted above you.

Your chest rose and fell as you fought to catch your breath, but it felt as if your heart had stopped beating entirely when you chanced a look to your right and saw…a paw. A huge, sandy-blonde paw about the size of your head was planted in the mud right next to your neck. You turned, and on your left side was the same thing.

Slowly, you rolled over onto your back, and you found yourself face to face with the wolf from before, only this time, you were close enough to see its blue eyes clearly – Steve’s eyes.

“…Steve?” you breathed.

Before your disbelieving eyes, the animal hovering over you started to shift and change, morphing gradually back into the man who’d terrorized you so much up to this point. Except now, as he straddled your hips, completely nude, you knew that he’d been right all along.

“Still think I’m crazy?” he panted, still out of breath from the chase.

“I… How…”

“I tried to tell you,” he grumbled, leaning down. You squirmed when you felt him press his nose to your neck, nuzzling it as he inhaled deeply, and you whimpered when his cock twitched against your thigh. “God, you have no idea what your scent does to me.”

You made a small noise of protest when his tongue darted out, laving over a spot right under your jaw.

“I thought it was too good to be true, you know,” he groaned, and you let out a noise that was dangerously close to a moan as you realized you could smell him once again. “I thought that people had to be a werewolf to be an alpha or an omega, but as soon as I smelled you in the art shop… Fuck, I knew you were mine.”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tried to protest, but you were silenced when Steve nipped at your neck.

“We both know that’s not true,” he chided. “We both know what my scent does to you.”

Steve dragged his teeth down the side of your neck, and you shivered at the sensation. You wanted to fight this; you didn’t want to give in to him. But something inside of you refused to do anything but lay there beneath him, panting as he tasted your skin.

“I’ve never been with an omega before,” he confessed. “The Commandos told me they were incredibly rare, a dying breed just like me. But fate must have brought us together for a reason.”

“I’m… I’m not an omega,” you insisted, but a soft mewl fell out of your lips when he ground his hips forward, the line of his cock sliding up the length of your clothed pussy.

“Then why do you have a mating gland?” he rasped, his tongue darting out to lick at a spot on your neck.

“A what?” you squeaked, but suddenly his hands were on your hips, flipping you over onto your hands and knees. His palms groped your ass, and suddenly you felt your pajamas being pulled down until they pooled around your knees.

“I can’t wait any longer,” Steve growled.

No, no, no. Your thoughts were swirling rapidly as Steve’s fingers slid down your spine. You didn’t want this; you weren’t an omega; Steve was crazy.

Why does your body want this so bad?

You couldn’t find the strength to try and crawl away when Steve’s hands left you, but your eyes widened when he suddenly spread your legs wider apart. The cold night air was icy against your cunt and your thighs, and when the warmth of his hands finally returned to your body, you couldn’t hold in your moan.

“That’s right, omega,” he panted, his hand reaching down to cup your pussy. “Fuck, you’re so wet; it’s already dripping down your thighs…”

Your pussy made an embarrassingly loud squelching noise as he pushed his finger inside, and your body’s reaction started drowning out your brain. As he thrust his finger in and out, your hips started pushing back against him as white noise echoed in your ears.

“Mmm,” you whined, clenching your teeth. “M-more, fuck-“

“More?” Steve cooed. “You want more?”

You nodded your head, and a gasp parted your lips as he added another finger, curling it in a way that had you seeing stars. Your legs spread wider, and you dropped to your elbows, pushing back in time with his hand.

“This is what you need,” he growled. “You need your alpha to take care of you, don’t you? To use your pretty little cunt and fill you up with my seed. Ain’t that right, doll?”

“Y-yes,” you moaned, feeling your walls start to flutter around him.

All too soon, though, he pulled his hand away, leaving you hanging on the precipice of your orgasm. You burrowed your face into your arms and whined at the loss, but a few seconds later, Steve was gripping your hips. You could feel his fully hard length against your ass, and your breath caught in your throat upon feeling how big it was.

“W-wait-“

Steve shushed you, tangling one of his hands in your hair as the tip of his cock glided through your folds, brushing against your clit.

“It’s ok, omega,” he whispered. “Just lay back and take it.”

With that, his head pressed against your entrance, and your lips parted in a silent scream as he impaled you. Your cervix ached as his dick pressed against it, and you were vaguely aware of the broken moans falling out of your lips.

“Fuck, doll,” your alpha breathed, and you felt him rest his forehead against your shoulder. “Feels so good, so fucking good. My good girl…”

You groaned when he drew his hips back and thrust forward again, jarring your whole body with the movement. Your teeth clenched together as he found his rhythm, the initial stretch still burning. You’d never felt anything like this before, and the pain was mixing with your pleasure until you couldn’t tell one from the other.

Slowly, as the minutes went by, your abused cunt started to adjust, and your moans became less and less strained as you once more felt pleasure start to crest within you.

“That’s it,” Steve praised, pushing your hair away so he could press a kiss to the side of your neck. “Just relax; let your alpha make you feel good.”

You whimpered as he started thrusting faster, his hips snapping as deep, gravelly growls spilled out of his throat. Your own moans filled the air as you once again felt your orgasm build up inside of you. Your pussy walls contracted and fluttered as you got closer and closer, and Steve’s hand came down hard on your ass.

“Go ahead, omega,” he commanded. “Cum for me; don’t hold back. Give it to me; let me feel it. Cum for me-“

With a wail, your body did as it was commanded, and you trembled as you reached your climax. Your cunt squeezed his cock as he slowed his thrusts, and your hips moved of their own accord as you rode it out. Quiet, hoarse moans were still trailing out of your mouth as you came down from your high, and Steve’s beard tickled your skin as he pressed kisses along the curve of your shoulder.

“Good girl,” he praised, and you were sickened to realize that you enjoyed his words of encouragement.

You were surprised when he pulled his cock out of you, and you allowed him to flip you over onto your back. His cheeks were flushed, and he was panting, and your eyes trailed down to see his cock still painfully hard.

Without warning, he shoved it back inside of you, and your hands flew up, digging your nails into his back as he once again started thrusting at a brutal pace.

“’M gonna fill your fucking pussy up,” he was moaning, his hair falling into his eyes while his mouth hung open. “Gonna breed you like the little bitch you are-“

Despite having just cum, shocks of pleasure spread through you as he filled you, and in this position, you could watch his muscles bulge and flex as he chased his release. His eyes were squeezed shut, and one of his hands was pawing and kneading at your breast as he used the other to support his weight. The veins in his neck throbbed as he grew closer and closer, and you were taken off guard to find that you were approaching your second climax with him.

“You already gonna cum again, baby?” he whispered. “Do it. Give it to me; I want it.”

You closed your eyes and arched up, frenzied moans of yes, please, God, more, I need more, spilling past your lips almost unintelligibly. You were so close – just a little more and you would be pushed over the edge.

Just before you could reach it, though, Steve’s eyes snapped open, focusing on your neck hungrily. You should have felt fear, knowing what he was, what had happened to his parent and his last lover. But instinct took over, and you found yourself tilting your head back, baring your neck to him in a sign of submission.

With a feral growl, he lunged forward, and you shrieked as his teeth pierced your skin, right where he’d claimed earlier your ‘mating gland’ was. You closed your eyes, expecting to feel your life fade away, ready to see blood spurting up from the wound. But that never happened; no, instead you felt as if you’d just been electrified. Every sensation you were feeling was suddenly amplified tenfold, and your vision went black as you came for the second time.

Your ears were ringing, but you were still able to hear the primal roar that Steve let out as he came, painting your inner walls with his seed as hips finally slowed to a stop. For several long seconds, the two of you were perfectly still save for your chests as they rose and fell with your heavy breathing. Steve’s cock began to soften inside of you, but he made no move to pull away. No, instead he collapsed over you, his head resting against your chest as his heated skin shielded you from the cold air.

“You were perfect,” you heard him whisper, and one of his fingers came up to trace the bite mark he’d left behind on your neck. “Your bond scar is gonna be so gorgeous, little omega.”

Sleep threatened to overtake you as you lay there, not truly processing Steve’s words as his weight atop you lulled you towards sleep.

“Go ahead and rest, doll,” he murmured. “I’ll carry you back home, and then we can go again. Don’t worry, doll; I won’t stop until you’re nice and round with my babies.”

You should have felt scared – you should have pulled away and ran into the woods. But instead, you let out a content noise of acknowledgement before doing just as he said. The last thing you registered before slipping into a deep, dreamless slumber was his arms as they wrapped around you and picked you up, carrying you away from the road and into the forest.

[bookishofalder]

Celebrity Swingers Club

Request: @bbarton -hi!! could i request adam driver x reader <3 they are dating and one night they go out or something and someone starts hitting on the reader aggressively and he gets very protective and jealous :)

A/N: Honestly the idea for this stemmed from a random and hilarious conversation I was having with my friend the other day. I wanted to keep this one light and silly, so I hope it makes you smile!  🥰

Warnings: Dash of SMUT, language. 

Adam was missing you today, even though he’d seen you mere hours ago, wrapped in his arms in bed at the hotel. And you were on set today as well, even. But this happened towards the end of filming, for a lot of actors. The inevitable mixture of melancholy, pride, restlessness and exhaustion. It was exacerbated by being on location, though he had to admit of all the locations he’d been to for a film, he had little to complain about here in Hawaii.

But nearing the end of filming meant that time became more constrained, and you and he saw less of one another. He supposed it was part of the honeymoon phase, after all, you’d only been married about 5 months before production started on this latest project.

Today, he just wanted to see you, even if just for a short while.

So when they called lunch, he was quick to depart the set and make a beeline for the cafe, where he had two orders of lunch preordered for pickup. He thanked the staff, having a brief conversation with the cafe crew about how much he had to bribe them for the recipe to his favourite meal (seriously, it was one of the best dishes he’d ever encountered, but they wouldn’t give it up!). With a laugh and a shrug of defeat, he said his goodbyes and started toward the makeup trailers.

He figured you’d be working with your assistant to tidy up from the morning, as many fake injuries were needed for the scenes they were filming. You complained that these left your workstations a disaster. But he knew you loved creating the wounds, a macabre alternative to the glamour or ‘regular’ looks you specialized in. It had been alarming the first time he’d walked in on you in the bedroom you shared at home to find you looking at horrifically graphic photos and making notes.

As he approached your trailer, your assistant, Bailey, was making her way hurriedly down the steps. Adam greeted her with a wide grin. “Hey Bailey, sneaking away?”

“Sneaking away is accurate, Carter is in there,” She replied, her lips set in a thin line, “Seriously, I know he means well, but he really is a bit much.”

Adam nodded in understanding, as he too found the young actor a little...obnoxious. And while Adam had no illusions to his idiosyncrasies and perpetual ‘asshole’ persona; he still made a point of not falling into conversation with Carter. It was tiring, as the kid would speak non-stop, jumping from topic to topic so quickly it gave his listeners whiplash, and when he’d finish, he’d merely take a breath and launch into another speech unless he was cut off.

But he was a good enough kid and a great actor. Someone that, professionally, Adam was happy to work with. Just like Bailey, however, he had his limits when it came to patience in dealing with Carter offset. And Adam knew his wife all too well, he knew you were in the trailer, abandoned by Bailey, being an absolute gem to the kid. Letting him talk your ear off while you no doubt worked to get your station fully tidied before being called to set after lunch for touch-ups.

“Well, I’d better go rescue her, I’ll see you later.” He sighed, and Bailey gave him a sympathetic, knowing smiling before running off.

You kept your trailer especially cool, which Adam had always appreciated. You said it was for your art, but he also knew you did it for him, as he always ran a lot warmer than most. Stepping inside, he first turned left toward the dining area and set the food boxes down on the table. When he glanced around and didn’t see you in the main room, he made his way to the door that led into the meeting room, which had a large sink that you used for cleaning off your palettes and brushes. The door was halfway cracked and as Adam stepped up, he heard Carter’s voice.

“Honestly, totally no big deal, (y/n). Married, single, divorced-whatever,” Adam was right at the door now, looking in he saw your back, shoulders rigid in a way that he knew meant you were uncomfortable, and pointedly washing off a palette with determined vigour. “You’re fit, and I’m an honest person, so I just wanted to put it out there. You could even ask Adam if you-“

Leaning against the door frame, Adam slid the pocket door the rest of the way open, his eyes focused on Carter. “Ask Adam what?” His voice low, he was trying to control his temper-he didn’t want to jump to conclusions.

Carter had broken off the moment he saw Adam in the doorway, mouth slightly open in surprise. “Oh, hey Adam!” He quickly rearranged his expression to a more pleasant one.

But when you spun around and Adam saw the genuine relief flush across your face, his heart rate increased. He crossed his arms, inwardly happy that he was still wearing only a t-shirt, his muscles flexing slightly.

“Ask me what, Carter.”

The kids’ eyes widened, “I was, well, I mean I was saying to (y/n)-“

Adam cut him off again, “My wife. You were saying to my wife.” Out of the corner of his eye, Adam could see you biting back a smile.

Carter stuttered, “Yes! Of course, I was saying-to your wife-that I’d be down for a, you know,” He shrugged, though his tense posture and wide eyes gave away how utterly not calm he was, “Some fun, Hollywood style, uh, fun.”

At this, Adam frowned with confusion, glancing between Carter and you, and you rolled your eyes, “He means sex. You know, like how all celebrities are here for a good time, so we can swap partners and have sex parties and all that fun stuff we do on weekends.”

Adam’s eyes snapped to Carter, who visibly paled. Gulping he watched as Adam stepped away from the door and into the room, his eyes narrowed. “You asked my wife to fuck? Are you kidding me?” Moving nearer to you, Adam pointed at the door, “Get the fuck out of here, stay the fuck away from my wife, and expect a call from my manager.”

Though his voice had been quiet, the message and severity of his words were all too clear to Carter, who uttered a quick apology before running out of the trailer at full speed. When the door slammed closed behind him, you burst out laughing, peals of giggles that brought a smile to Adam’s face despite his anger.

“Oh god, that poor kid actually thought we had like, celebrity swingers clubs,” You broke down in another fit of giggles, one hand clutching your stomach, and Adam couldn’t help but join in.

After a few minutes, he stepped closer to you and pulled you into his arms, where you rested your head on his chest, your arms snaking around his waist. It hadn’t been the first time he’d encountered someone unabashedly hitting on you, though this was the most unique proposition he thinks you'd been offered.

“That was the first time that one could interpret that I was included in the deal,” He considered aloud, causing you to laugh loudly again. “I’m not sure if I should be more, or less, offended.”

“Carter is a gullible fantasist. I’d put money down that someone told him there was a sex club he was missing out on.”

“If that’s the case,” Adam replied, pulling back slightly to look down at you, “Then whoever told him that is going to get a piece of my mind when I find out who they are. I fucking hate when men hit on you.”

Your gaze softened, a small hand reaching up to stroke his jaw in a soothing motion that always seemed to work on him. “I know, babe,” You whispered, your hand sliding from his jaw to grab the back of his neck, pulling him closer. With your mouth a breath away from his, you added, “I missed you today.” And then your lips pressed to his.

Without hesitation, Adam deepened the kiss, his blood rushing as your mouth opened for him and then he was licking into you, tasting you. A small moan escaped you as you pressed yourself against him, returning his fervour. One of the things he adored about you was the energy that you saved just for him. Every kiss, every touch, they were always fire, always intense and needy. You kissed him like it was the first time, every time, no matter how tired you might be, how hard you might have worked that day.

He broke the kiss, pressing his forehead to yours, each of you panting. “I love you, sweet girl.”

“Love you too, big.” You murmured, your lips wrapping seductively around the nickname you had for him. He smiled, reaching his hands up to cup your face, thumbs stroking the soft skin.

“I brought lunch, by the way.”

You pulled back further, leaning around him to look toward the dining table. Eyes lighting up upon seeing the take out containers that held your favourite meal, you glanced between Adam and the food a few times.

“Seeing you get all jealous worked me up,” Your words were thoughtful, brows furrowed in mock consideration, “I think we have time for a quickie before we ea-AH!”

You shrieked a giggle as Adam lifted you up, pressing his lips to yours before seating you on the table. He reached toward the door and quickly shut it, turning the lock, before looking back down at you.

With a dark look in his eyes, he stepped between your legs, hands gripping your shoulders gently, “Might need to leave a mark or two, remind everyone who you belong to.” And then his lips were on your collarbone, biting possessively before his tongue would lave out to soothe the mark. Your hands found his hair, fingers carding through the raven locks as you moaned in delight.

“All yours, big.” You sighed, and Adam smiled against the skin of your chest, his hands dropping to your hips so that he could ease your leggings off and bring your bodies together.

The food would go cold, but the trailer had a microwave. And really, neither of you were all that hungry at the moment, anyway.

Did you enjoy this story? Please consider reblogging or commenting to ease my inner turmoil as a writer. Likes are basically just a bookmark!

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

selfie | jjk | 2

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Is this a rom-com, slice-of-life drama with unsolicited social commentary about gender stereotypes, idol music, and the meaningless meaning of the word, “adult”? Yes. But also, Jeon Jungkook shouldn’t be in love with his hyung’s little sister and he is. Shit.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of depression, anxiety, loneliness; fluff, but also frustrating because flirt already, sheesh; loons-to-lovers; non-idol!AU - oppa’s bestfriend!Jungkook x SHINee fangirl!reader

happy lunar new year!! year of the ox - jk’s lucky year <3

–

previous episode.

2. in which the two loons getting somewhere, only for more misunderstandings to happen.

Is this too much?

You stared at the picture and the message. Jeon Jungkook once again. Sending a picture of himself at the gym. It was a while since the last one, so his hair was slightly longer now. Was he growing it out? Oh well, none of your business. You sent your usual reply.

?

You sighed and went back to your journal, only to have your phone aggressively sing ‘3 PM’ from the Animal Crossing New Leaf OST. Directly asking for a video call this time. You thinned your mouth into a line and closed your journal, sliding it out of frame before accepting the call.

Jungkook’s big brown eye filled up the screen, directly on the camera.

“Why don’t you respond like a normal person?”

“Why don’t you start conversations off like a normal person?” you shot back, placing a hand on your cheek and leaning against it. There was stationery scattered all around you, but your journal was behind the charging stand.

Jungkook withdrew his eyeball, frowning. You could see his entire face now, his long black hair tied up into a silly sprout on top of his head. He was still wearing the dark gray sweatshirt from the photo, but he seemed to be in his apartment. All you could see was the wall.

“What about the pic though? Is it too much?”

“Too much what?” you responded irritably.

He waved his hand, shaking the phone with his movement. “You know… Too, ‘Hey I work out and am attractive, pay attention to me’ much?”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re not even looking at the camera. Or wearing a sleeveless shirt.”

He blinked at you. “Should I?”

You rolled your eyes. “No, those are things not to do. Picture is fine,” you added, shifting some pens away so you could rest your head on your forearms.

“Oh.”

He looked uneasy for a second before the camera jostled around as he scurried to a different part of the room. You puffed your cheeks and closed your eyes, not wanting to get motion sick.

“I’ve been playing Persona 5!” Jungkook said cheerfully, making you open your eyes to see him directing the camera at his television where the Persona music was merrily playing. “Just finished Sakura Futaba’s Palace.” He switched the camera back as you smiled and gave him a thumbs up.

“Nice.”

Jungkook seemed to spy your deflated form on your desk.

“What’s wrong?”

You breathed out. “Nothing.”

He frowned. “Doesn’t seem like nothing.”

You shrugged. “Just thinking.” Your eyes flickered to him, smirking a little. “You wouldn’t know about that, I suspect.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes. Other than that, he didn’t react to your remark.

“Thinking about what?” he asked, leaning back into his gray couch. His long hair flared out, sprout blooming against the cushions.

Your eyes shifted to the pens all over your desk. To your tablet, where you had been practicing digital drawing for a little while now. Just little drawings of cute animals, no people yet. To your journal, where you had been writing your diary entry.

“Lonely.”

You said the word without thinking. It was the title of your diary entry. You hadn’t meant to say it, but it was the only thing on your mind right now. Your eyes flickered back to Jungkook, who was watching you carefully. You sighed, feeling the need to explain yourself.

“All my friends are busy with school and their jobs. Oppa is always at work or with his girlfriend. Parents are always working.”

You could feel the distance between you and your high school friends. They were chasing your dreams and you were chasing nothing at all. You weren’t distant from your brother, but you were respectful of how much time he wanted to spend with his girlfriend. She might become his future wife someday, after all. Would you have a future husband one day? You wondered what he would be like.

You shook your head and shrugged. “But I did it to myself by taking a gap year, so it can’t be helped.”

“It’s okay to feel lonely.”

Slowly, your gaze shifted back to Jungkook. He was getting up from the couch, holding the phone up as he walked to what looked like the kitchen.

“I mean, you can’t help what you feel, right?” he said as he set the phone in a cupboard and went to the fridge. “Feeling lonely isn’t some kind of crime, so you don’t need to lock it away or anything.”

Jungkook picked up a take-out container and opened it, stiffing the contents. He seemed to be debating if it was edible or not. How long had that been there? You wanted to ask but then again, you didn’t want to know. Jungkook shrugged and dumped the mysterious contents into a bowl.

“I’ll talk to you whenever you want.”

You scoffed. “Why would you do that?”

Jungkook placed the bowl in the microwave and set the timer. The machine hummed as he turned around.

“To prevent you from feeling lonely.”

A butterfly danced in your chest.

You chuckled. “Why would I want to feel annoyed instead of lonely?”

Jungkook shrugged, taking out some chopsticks. “At least you have someone to be annoyed at instead of being alone?”

Two butterflies danced in your chest.

You huffed and rested your cheek on your forearms.

“Have you been talking to your Confidants?”

“What?”

“In Persona 5.”

“Who?”

You slapped your forehead. “Listen up, you monkey…”

“I’m an ox in the zodiac.”

“I mean your monkey gameplay…”

You began to explain the importance of Confidants in Persona to Jungkook.

-

That’s how you ended up in video calls with Jeon Jungkook several times a week.

He would usually start the call by sending a selfie, to which you would respond with your usual question mark. He was going to university for graphic design and worked at an electronics store part time. You, on the hand, were doing nothing. Well, not nothing, because you were clumsily learning digital art, but unless you were showering, you were always by your phone. Checking idol social media, especially SHINee. Sometimes your brother and his girlfriend asked you to accompany them to dinner, but you always declined, because being the third wheel was weird.

Also, watching your brother in love was weird.

Bleh.

“They always make out in front of me,” you were telling Jungkook as he asked why you weren’t at dinner earlier with your brother and his friends. Your brother had taken his girlfriend, of course. “It’s weird.”

Jungkook winced. “Yeah, I get what you mean. But I was there.”

“So what?”

Jungkook raised his hands. He was in his bed, rolling around in gray sheets. “Maybe you care?”

“I’d like to be spared watching oppa’s PDA, thanks.”

As usual, you were at your desk. This time your tablet was in front of you. You pushed the pen around, indecisively drawing lines and undoing your last action, twisting your mouth to one side, not really looking at Jungkook. He wasn’t doing anything of note, anyway.

“You don’t like PDA?”

You shrugged. “It’s whatever. I don’t really care.”

“What are you drawing?”

“Nothing good,” you sighed, putting down the tablet pen. The little cat character looked back at you, its expression the same bored and dispassionate face you usually had. You hadn’t really decided on a color for it yet. Maybe gray. That’s how you usually felt, anyway. You knew the collar color was going to be aqua though. A nod to your SHINee obsession.

“Show me.”

“No.”

“Come on.”

You looked up to Jungkook’s smile. There was a radiance about it. You felt the two butterflies dancing in your ribcage once again, fluttering, fluttering. His two front teeth where just ever so slightly too large for his mouth. It was endearing, like seeing a bunny. You looked back down at the little cat you created. Maybe you would make a bunny for Jungkook.

Pfft.

Why would you do that?

You laughed, confusing Jungkook as you placed your hand over your mouth, eyes squinting as you chortled to yourself, trying to imagine Jungkook as a silly little bunny. Probably one that worked out too much and drank banana milk every day. Probably loved to take selfies too. A cool bunny who wrote sunglasses sometimes and was probably altruistic and interesting.

Not like you.

Your laughter died down, eyes on the cat. You picked a cat to represent you because it was lazy and didn’t do much. Spent all day sleeping and staring outside, but never actually trying. Curious about things, but never committing.

“What’s so funny?” Jungkook asked, lifting the camera and holding it above him. You saw his long black hair flare out around his head. He was casually handsome, the kind of attractive that didn’t need much to be that way.

That’s weird. Why would you think something like that?

“Your face,” you replied, missing the usual bite you usually had behind your words. “You need a trim.”

He raised his eyebrow, pursing his lips. “You don’t like long hair?”

You pointed at the phone even though he probably couldn’t tell what you were pointing at. “The ends of your hair are splitting. It’s not going to grow well at this rate.”

“Are you a secret barber or something?”

“I’m a human being who cuts her own hair,” you replied impassively, sitting back in your chair.

Jungkook looked surprised. “Really? Since when?”

“Since the last time oppa attempted to cut my hair in high school.” You cringed at the memory.

Jungkook looked apologetic and ready to burst out laughing at the same time. “He tried his best.”

“He did not,” you retorted, remembering the botched bangs and blunt shoulder length cut. It was horrible. You went to the salon afterward and had it trimmed into a short pixie cut, because you would rather be bald than look like an overgrown coconut.

“The pixie cut was cool though.”

“Eh.” You shrugged. “Too hard to cut it by myself. Need some length to hide my mistakes.”

“Your hair always looks nice though. A little messy.”

You touched the top of your head self-consciously. Maybe you should start brushing it before accepting his calls. You didn’t really brush it that often because, well, who was going to see you? You basically only brushed it when you noticed a tangle.

Jungkook was smiling at you. His dark brown eyes seemed sparkly because of the overhead lights in his bedroom. The butterflies in your ribcage circled each other, looping round and round. You made a disgruntled face, reaching up read the current time at the top of your phone.

“Don’t you have class early tomorrow? Go to sleep.”

And then you pressed the end call button.

For some reason, relief and disappointment washed over you. Relief because there was a palpitating anxiousness you felt when you looked too directly into Jungkook’s eyes. Disappointment because maybe you shouldn’t have hung up so abruptly. That was a little rude.

You noticed you had a text. From Jeon Jungkook.

Good night.

-

Jungkook placed his phone beside him after he sent the text. He thought about sending a selfie too, but maybe that was too much. She had just seen him seconds before, anyway.

Why had she hung up like that?

He smiled as he remembered her laugh. He liked her laugh a lot. She hid it behind her hands and her eyes always squinted when she did so, nearly making them disappear. It looked a little bit like a cat when it was purring in satisfaction. Jungkook wondered what made her laugh like that. It must have been a thought, because he could see her face changing as she observed him. When she stopped laughing, her face was different too, becoming introspective.

She looked pretty today too.

Her hair a little messy, combed through with her fingers. That’s how it looked best, he thought. She had a natural prettiness, the kind that needed no help to be that way. Every action she did seemed cute, from the way she held her pen, to the way she twisted her mouth to one side when she was working on something, to the way she touched the top of her head, lips parting in thought.

If she wanted to be a model, she probably could.

At least, Jungkook wanted to take her picture.

He frowned a little. He’d been consistently sending her selfies before calling her and she always responded with a question mark. Maybe she wasn’t used to taking selfies? Or maybe, and what was more likely, she probably didn’t even care about them.

Jungkook exhaled, flopping to his side. Should he give up? But then he remembered her face right before she looked at the time. It was like she was staring at the screen, at his face. And for a split second, he swore he saw her upper lip upturn a bit, shyness in her gaze, a bit of pink flushing her cheeks. Was it just the lightning or something? His mind playing tricks on him?

“Bleh.”

Jungkook made a weird noise and plopped his face into his pillow.

-

Jungkook stopped calling you.

You wondered why. You had been kind of rude to him last time. Maybe he was mad at you? Maybe he wanted an apology? But you weren’t really sure what to apologize for. And it was weird to call without a purpose, right? And besides.

You didn’t really need to apologize to Jeon Jungkook.

He wasn’t even really your friend. He was your older brother’s friend.

You chewed on your lip, staring at the last picture he sent you. He wasn’t your friend. He was… well, what was he trying to do? Why was he talking to you? Maybe he was bored. Maybe he was nosy. You did say you followed his art Instagram, so maybe he was enthralled with the idea of knowing he had a fan or something?

But you weren’t a fan, per se.

Well, a little bit. He was really talented.

But not that much!

Because Jeon Jungkook was kind of annoying. He still hadn’t returned Persona 5 to your brother. Not that your older brother noticed, at all. He never finished Persona 5 and it was mostly your game now, with how many hours you had sunk into it. Jungkook hadn’t even known about Confidants until you told him. Hmph. Didn’t he look up game guides? Well, he should. Confidants were really important to the game. They helped you with useful abilities during boss fights by developing relationships with the other characters.

You stared at the last selfie Jungkook had sent you.

You kind of wished he was looking at the camera.

Maybe you needed a Confidant. You certainly didn’t really know how to develop relationships with anyone, except maybe your older brother. But that was because he was your brother and familial responsibility. Well. Not true. Your brother was really nice to you.

That’s why you folded his underwear for him, even to this day.

Sigh.

Jungkook did like SHINee though.

At least that was one thing in common, right?

-

next episode: 3. in which only a major event can bring these two loons back together – SHINee is back!

--

masterpost

[pokedash55]

Ninjobservation #2

Analyzing the Elemental Alliance as a group and uncovering the real reason the Time twins (Twims for short) were "traitors"

So I have rewatched Hands of Time for the 3rd time this past year and Me and my sister Purplefern (She has a ton of good Twims fics on Ao3 ^^) have learned a lot about the old elemental alliance (EA).

THE CLAIM

The EA were a strong clique that did not appreciate the Twim's general attitudes and personalities. Chen saw the growing discourse and manipulated both sides into turning on each other.

[[They be judgin' (””art”” by me) ]]

To start let’s look at all the Leaders of this Alliance

Wu

Wu back before his eventual growth with the ninja was a strict teacher. Morro ran away due to his inability to understand his problems (problems he may have caused with his teachings). He is generally harsh towards the Ninja in season 1, forcing them to train all day because they simply talked during his lesson ("Never trust a snake").

Due to being the son of the FSM he put pressure on himself to always be virtuous and leaderlike (believes he has to uphold order) and he takes this believed expectation of authority to heart. He is no nonsense, yelling at Libber (the Master of Lightning) for simply talking slightly off topic before an important battle. He has a strong sense of right and wrong, according to his own moral standards and does not waver on what he believes is in/appropriate.

Garmadon

Although less righteous than Wu, joining the alliance after the war began, he has also been seen as a strict and serious teacher. Because of the growing venom in his blood I'd argue he was even more strict, less in attitude but more in general rules of law and order. We see in Rebooted that Garmadon set strict rules for himself like "no weapons" to keep his destructive side in check and we know that Young Garmadon is so sensitive to rules as he claims that even reading another's mail is a crime. He joined as a leader and most likely upheld rules not just for the alliance but for his own sake.

Ray and Maya

We see little of them but they are both good friends- and Ray appears to be the right hand man-- of Wu They are such good friends that Ray is the one trusted with the Map to the Golden Weapons. From his tone and diction he seems very dogmatic and if he's anything like Kai, he's quick to assumptions and to attack people who he perceives as bad according to his own strict principles. He just feels like a stuffy guy. I don't have much on Maya but she's a good people person so she gets along with the others really well. Also she married Ray, so that has to say something. They both went along with the Time Blade plan.

Other Elemental observations

 Except for Libber (Lighting), all the Masters are older than the Time twins. (Krux can fight in S7 so he's not older than 70. They are most likely mid to late twenty's during the war)

 The EA is a pre-established group (Garmadon refers to them like they are a pre-existing entity in ToE flashbacks). They were two confident and arrogent twenty year olds strolling into a pre-established clique of old honorable fighters during a war. Not the best time for bonding.

 Ice feels very much like Wu and Garmadon, considering he gave his powers to an analytical robot like Zane is saying a lot about him. He most likely does not tolerate "shenanigans", especially during a war.

They battle in a tight group

Krux and Acronix

These two act like they don't belong in the group. During the party celebrating the end of the war they are seen standing away from the rest and are genuinely happy to be recognized by Wu for their efforts. Although retcon, the two are not seen battling with the rest of the group. They instead most likely are so powerful (and impulsive and difficult to work with) that they are sent on duo missions to protect villages (They are also not the best followers).

It's also a nice parallel to our ninja in ToE. They stuck together like a family and were disliked and excluded from the rest of the EM's. The same could be said for The Twims since they always fought together and were similarly excluded.

Krux

Krux is a planner and a sassy dude. He’s stubborn and will tell people they are wrong to their face. The 16 personalities that matches him best is INTJ (the Architect). This analytical type hates people who are who they consider idiotic, do not participate in formalities, and are aggravated by heavy rules and restrictions made by someone else, especially someone they do not respect (which is most people).

Although we do not see him much as a young man we know that he is prone to grudges and will resort to less kind methods in sake for the means to an end. Definitely not someone Wu and Garmadon would like since they are trying to uphold order and keep a chain of command. But Krux believes in his own plans and his own chain of command. He is not good at small talk and would mostly stick with his brother during group events like meetings and parties, so in general his terrible social skills probably made him pretty unliked.

Acronix

Acronix is quick witted and heavily proud of himself. He won’t admit he is wrong and is very loud in general. This may be a side tangent but Acronix may have ADHD, which would not be understood back in the day and people would regard him as annoying or rude.

EVIDENCE FOR ADHD

-He is shown to stand in a position that suggests hand fidgeting (A LOT)

-Quick to anger over minuscule details

-yeah he's distractible but he's also quick to move through ideas/activities

-impulsive

- During their important battle back in time his attention is on the pretty fusion dragon flying around instead of listening to Kruxs plan of attack.

-His attention shifts to the destiny's bounty and he toys with the ninja despite saying right before he couldn't stay and fight Wu cause he had to meet up with Krux.

- in general he is constantly shifting from idea to idea, oftentimes leaving his original plans completely un-finished

He could have trouble paying attention to meetings and with his bond with Krux and tendency to quick action he would choose his brother's plan and strike independently rather than following whatever Wu is doing. This leads them to fight beside each other alone instead of with the main group, making the elemental alliance think they believe to be better than them. 

In terms of Personality types he’s a hardcore ESTP (Entrepreneur). Like his brother, they are free analytical thinkers who do not respect higher authority simply because they claim to be the leaders and hate rules and regulations getting in the way of their progress. He says what's on his minds regardless of feelings and will defend his opinions despite others sensitivities. He is perceptive enough to pick up on small changes and habits but he is quick to share that knowledge (usually in a snarky remark). I doubt the alliance appreciates what he has to say when he’s blabbering about everything in such a rude tone.

MOE

Now this all may start to look like a silly “Hands of time did nothing wrong” theory. But there is a key factor in this that not many people talk about. The previous Master of Earth (or Moe for short).

We know that Chen manipulated Moe into turning against the alliance so it was not technically his fault. Chen could’ve said that because the serpentine rose from the earth he was entitled to fight for them. Heck he could’ve been 100% hypnotized by Clouse’s dark magic (His eyes were not swirly so it was not hypnobrai like is suggested in WOTD). He is most likely some lovable dummy who was easily swayed and a kind person to apologize once the truth about Chen is revealed (considering that he’s Cole’s grandfather). Moe as a person is fine. What is sketchy is Moe being easily forgiven and allowed into the alliance despite turning on all of HUMANITY. What he did could’ve hurt way more people. He fought with the snakes and attacked innocent people and powerless soldiers (like the rice farmers) and was off scott free! The Twims only fought the elemental alliance and Wu and Garmadon at the monastery. Not nearly as destructive.

They figured out that Chen made the alliance turn on each other after the war and forgave Moe for that, but isn't it strange that they never gave the Time Twins that same benefit of the doubt? We know from “Way of the departed” and general logic that Chen and Clouse helped tip them over the edge. Whether you believe this to be canon or not is irrelevant because if the EA knew that Chen was involved once why would they not assume he was with the time twins too? Seems like they already disliked the two and were just ready for a reason to punish them. All flashbacks we get are told from unreliable sources like Wu and Ray (who both were enthusiastically the ones planning to strip them of their powers.) Speaking of, let’s analyze this example of their “betrayal” shall we?

THE BATTLE IN QUESTION

This is the flashback we get of them fighting against the alliance. The first time you watch it all you really know is that they are fighting against the EA, when Wu is describing their arrogance and the danger of their powers. How evil right? To attack their companions like that? But there is a lot wrong with how Wu phrases the fight and how it actually goes down.

They have Bamboo staffs.

A weapon that is primarily defensive and not a good weapon of choice for a planned ambush or assault. They are non lethal weapons. And Acronix is said on LEGO.com to be quick to learn any weapon so someone as adaptable as he is would not intentionally bring something so weak to a fight unless he had been forced to improvise.

Always on the defensive.

Someone as tactical as Krux and skilled as Acronix would never let themselves be on the defensive like this if they had the first blow. We see that Ray has the first attack in the flashback. Although Acronix is known to jump in without thinking he has his brother who would not just go into a fight just to lose. And even if they did end up on the defensive after having the first strike Acronix has his powers. He would’ve brought both of them out of a situation if things got too hard (which he is known to do in battles HE starts). But they clearly did not start this battle.

They are surrounded.

These two guys with nothing but staffs are encircled? Krux as a planner and Acronix as a quick witted warrior would never let themsleves get into that position if it had been a battle that they had started and had been planning to win. This framing makes it feel like they are being ganged up on.

In a remote location.

The battle takes place on a gravel road no where near a major city. If they wanted to take over wouldn’t they strike somewhere more populated? And if they were attacking the EA...they would have attacked the EA directly. They were probably just walking and talking and got ambushed.

Chen?

Very possible that Chen sent an “anonymous” note to the EA telling them of the Twims plans to attack. They are arrogant, have openly hated Wu’s leadership, and don’t gel with the group so of course they would take a tip like that and attack someone they don’t like. It’s possible they had ideas of taking over the EA but the world seems a bit out of their morality range until provoked.

Now that they have been attacked the two form a real plan to overthrow these fools who don’t like them and have unfairly attacked them (just like Chen had been telling them they were likely to do). They bring real weapons (swords) to an important location (the Monastery) to fight the specific people they do not like (Wu and Garmadon).

The Punishment

Ok so these powerful elemental masters are going to attack the EA. They were once allies and they are too powerful to defeat with their powers. If only there was a way to temporarily suspend their powers so they could talk this out and have an understanding of each other and perhaps uncover Master Chen's involvement-- since the Hands of Time were semi-sensible war heroes who were the sons of a previous master of time who presumably responsibly used the element without issue (and was most likely a samurai since Krux says their helmets are samurai helmets)... sigh too bad there is not such a material… oh wait.

WHAT ABOUT VENGESTONE???

These fools really decided that destroying an important element forever, and violently ripping it out of its users was the only option? There were generations of time elementals before them that had the element. They could throw vengestone nets at them or fight until they get knocked out and then vengestone cage them. But they don’t want to know why they betrayed the alliance. It was not because the element was too dangerous. It was not because they had to strip them of their powers (cause there are less lethal ways of doing so). They just did not give these two any mercy.

CONCLUSION

The Time twins are hard to work with and stuck together no matter what. The alliance is very strict and dogmatic which both Krux and Acronix would hate being trapped in their day to day alliance meetings and group mentality. Chen used their egos and their exclusion to his benefit to keep the fight going after he was banished and sent a letter to start up conflict with the EA. The EA did not like the Twims so they were ruthless and did not give them the same mercy they did for Moe (They also are not Elements of Creation. Wu would do anything to protect the main 4 but he’ll punish these punks). 

[monstersandmaw]

Male vampire x male character - Part Three (nsfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

This is going to be a four-parter, folks! And here's 3866 words of Part Three for you. Angst ahoy, but you know me, ok, so trust me. Here we meet Alec's little brother, and you'll find out why Sebastien was so jumpy and weird about the Twayblade name.

Part One, Part Two

Alec’s ‘one night stand’ with Sebastien turned into a whole month of of ‘one-night-stands’, and culminated in Sebastien asking him to dinner the following weekend - a pattern which repeated itself every weekend after that.

Sure, the sex was probably the most incredible sex that Alec had ever experienced in his entire life, but what he came to enjoy even more was the time they spent over meals and cups of tea in the intervening time, talking about everything from history to politics to video games and books and everything else besides. Sebastien talked about literature a lot, and Alec sketched him and illustrated his conversations while he spoke.

“You could really make something of yourself with talent like that,” Sebastien had murmured once as Alec had doodled a quick rendition of the Victory of Samothrace on the back of a coffee shop receipt one afternoon in the park.

“Meh,” he shrugged without looking up. “I’d like to, but I’ve got a steady job now, you know? I’m not going to throw it all away just because some gallery might take my work and I might make something of a name for myself, you know?”

Sebastien sighed. “Talent is such an overused word, and great art is rarely based on raw talent alone, but with your dedication over the years, you’ve really honed what natural abilities you have into something exceptional, Alec. I think you should make a go of it at least.”

Alec had flushed, and Sebastien had been distracted by the rising colour his cheeks long enough to abandon that train of thought in favour of kissing him silly on a park bench, and Alec hadn’t much minded.

At an Iranian restaurant near Alec’s place one Friday, four weeks after Halloween, Sebastien leaned on his elbow and popped a fragrant and decadent zoolbia into his mouth, and Alec watched, oddly fixated by the way his fingers held the little fried treat. His eyes, dark and warm and inviting, blinked slowly and he offered Alec a slow-dawning smile that stole his breath.

“We should go to the museum again,” Alec he blurted, thinking back three days when they’d spent their lunchtime meandering around the Italian Renaissance gallery together.

“Mmm?” he asked, licking his fingers in a way that made Alec’s jeans tighten and his throat close.

“Yeah,” he croaked. “I mean, I know you’re not sick of me waxing endlessly about quattrocento art just yet…” he said, sipping his delicious cup of tea and trying not to choke on it as Sebastien’s ankle skimmed up his leg beneath the table.

“No,” Sebastien admitted. “You’re right. I’m not.”

With the bill paid by Sebastien this time, after Alec had bought them lunch the previous day, the two of them left the cosy warmth of the restaurant and stepped out into a bitter November night. “Oh fuck it’s cold,” Alec swore immediately, drawing up the collar of his coat.

“You want to head home?” Sebastien asked, a hand on the small of his back.

Unconsciously, Alec leaned into it and smiled up at him. They’d not yet been to Alec’s apartment, and he found himself more and more reluctant to let Sebastien in now that he’d seen the stunning penthouse that he called home. “If you’re sure? I think your wardrobe has more square footage than my entire place though…”

“Alec,” he purred, taking Alec’s hand in his and squeezing his fingers. “I —”

“—You’re freezing,” he commented, interrupting whatever Sebastien had been about to say.

“I don't tend to run hot,” he conceded, “But neither do I feel the cold much. I’d like to see your home, and you have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

He leaned in close and kissed the junction of Alec’s jaw and neck for a moment, his lips lingering, tongue just lapping at his skin and sending shivers down Alec’s whole body, shorting out his brain for a heartbeat or six. Sebastien raked his teeth over Alec’s pounding pulse point and he went still, frozen in a paroxysm of pleasure and, oddly, a strange thrill of fear he couldn’t quite place. Instead of pulling away when he recovered himself, however, he tilted his head further to one side, offering himself to Sebastien’s mouth, and the other man moaned decadently, deepening his attentions.

Sebastien’s hands found Alec’s belt and he tugged him sharply closer so that their hips met. Alec tried not to grind himself against Sebastien — they were still on a public street for goodness’ sake — but desire was washing through him in pulsing waves and it was becoming harder and harder to think rationally. That wasn’t the only thing that was becoming hard either, and he let out a harsh grunt before forcing himself to step back with a sheepish grin.

When he looked up at Sebastien, he found that the slightly taller man had frozen and was breathing hard, eyes closed, lips pursed together as though restraining himself from something.

“You ok?”

“Fine,” Sebastien hissed, still not opening his eyes.

Alec frowned. Sebastien looked like he was in pain of all things. “You sure? You look —”

“I’m fine!” he snapped through a clenched jaw. “Let’s go. You’re right. It is cold.”

The short walk to Alec’s apartment passed in tense silence, with Sebastien keeping his eyes locked downwards on the pavement, though he did deign to hold Alec’s hand. He couldn’t help wondering if perhaps he’d pushed things too far in public, given how proper Sebastien tended to be, but then again, Sebastien was the one who had deepened the gesture by practically mauling at his neck for three minutes straight back then.

Alec’s apartment building wasn’t fancy at all, and it certainly didn’t have a doorman, and once they’d stumbled in through the hallway with the busted light fitting in the ceiling, Alec smashed the elevator call button only to find it dull and non-responsive. “Damn,” he cursed. “Out of order again. Stairs?”

“If needs be,” Sebastien said with a gracious smile.

“This would never happen over at Buckingham Palace,” he quipped back, and Sebastien cracked a smile at Alec’s silly nickname for his apartment block.

“Exercise will shake all that dinner down,” he conceded.

Alec twitched his eyebrows in agreement and held the door open to the stairwell for him. As he passed by in the confined space, Sebastien stopped and leaned in, taking Alec’s jaw in his cool hands and kissing him gently, reverently, on the lips.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I was rude back then.”

Alec shrugged, feeling awkward at the sheer, heartfelt tenderness in the gesture.

“I got carried away. It won’t happen again.”

“I like it when you’re rougher with me,” he smirked. “You should know that after a month of fucking me senseless.”

As if Alec’s words had hit him like a sledgehammer to the nuts, Sebastien rolled his eyes and grimaced, but he did laugh. “You do seem to like a firm hand, granted,” he said. “Let’s get upstairs shall we? Before I take you right here, and I’m not sure how sanitary this situation is…”

Alec needed no more encouragement, and he didn’t even get to give Sebastien the fleeting, one-minute tour of his tiny flat before the man was on him, kissing him blind and backing him into a wall hard enough to knock the wind from him. Sebastien came alive in moments like that, when he could kiss him and lavish attention on Alec, and the latter was not about to stop him.

It wasn’t long before Sebastien’s wandering lips found Alec’s neck again, and as Alec gasped, fists balled into Sebastien’s shirt collar, he felt the sharp prick of teeth quickly followed by the generous suck of a love bite in the making. His knees went weak and he nearly staggered as a huge rush of endorphins swam through his mind, leaving him limp and wobbly all over. Well, almost everywhere.

“I want you,” he gasped, and Sebastien lost no time in locating the tiny bedroom and tossing him onto the bed, stripping them both with startlingly attractive efficiency. Alec barely managed to yank a bottle of lube and a box of condoms from his top drawer before Sebastien was spreading his legs and laving his tongue up over the curve of his balls.

“Oh fuck me,” Alec exclaimed as Sebastien’s slick finger slid into him and he hissed at the intrusion. A moment later, he was lying with his head flung back into the pillows while Sebastien slid a second inside him and began to do just that with his fingers until Alec was finally ready — and more than desperate — for Sebastien’s cock.

Sebastien had a beautiful body, all lean, corded muscle and slender lines, and as he got more and more aroused, his deep olive skin seemed to glow almost supernaturally. He was perfection incarnate. Bernini couldn’t have carved him, even if he’d been given a lifetime to try. Alec was no Bernini but he’d still love to sculpt him.

Sebastien chuckled sweetly and crooked his finger, sending a jolt of searing pleasure through Alec so hard his vision whited out for a moment and his back arched. “I’m flattered,” Sebastien murmured, placing open-mouthed, messy kisses down Alec’s leg as he spontaneously bent that knee up.

“Shit, I said that out loud…” he laughed, still vague and giddy with the sensations sparking under his skin.

“Mmm,” he smiled, lowering his face to Alec’s inner thigh and kissing fervently all up his leg to the crease of his thigh and hips before smoothing his leg back down onto the bed. His breath fanned out across Alec’s sensitive skin and he quivered and bucked, causing Sebastien’s curled finger to brush his prostate again and he yelled.

“Please…”

Moments later, Sebastien entered him at last and stilled, allowing him to adjust to the new intrusion.

When he fucked him like this, Sebastien seemed to take on a new energy, becoming something almost more primal, and Alec lived for it. The expression on his face as he closed his eyes and simply enjoyed the heat of Alec’s body closing around him, taking him, drawing him in, was something he would never get used to, no matter how many times it happened. He was certain of it.

“You’re so tight,” Sebastien grunted, easily shifting Alec’s hips up a degree or two and adjusting his own angle so that he could thrust into his prostrate with every stroke.

Alec’s words failed him as immense pleasure ripped through him, building and building. “You’re gonna make me come if you keep that up,” he barely managed to grunt as Sebastien somehow picked up the pace and began to pound into him with renewed vigour. The man seemed utterly devoted to Alec’s pleasure, as if it was the only thing driving him.

With an utterly inhuman snarl, Sebastien opened his mouth and whispered, “Come for me.”

The sheer weight of command in his voice tore through Alec and he came instantly, untouched, painting his torso with ropes of his release and wrenching Sebastien’s own orgasm from him by sheer force a second after.

Sebastien curled forwards with a hiss, hips spasming as he released, and his lips found Alec’s neck again, and then his collarbone. In the daze of his own peak, Alec thought he saw a flash of red in Sebastien’s eyes again, but he was out of sight too quickly for him to believe what he’d seen. Instead, he found Sebastien kissing his hammering pulse while he finished. Finally going still, Sebastien slumped atop him, breathing hard, his white-blond hair spilling everywhere and tickling Alec’s stubble. He was too tired to care though.

When he woke, hours later, he realised groggily that it must be the middle of the night. Sebastien was curled up beside him, obviously having found the tiny bathroom to clean up, and he was now spread out beside him on his small, lumpy mattress as if this were a palace and he a prince, not some tiny, shitty apartment in the rough bit of town.

Something about the way Sebastien slept still freaked Alec the fuck out. He didn’t seem to be breathing, and when he had laid his palm on Sebastien’s chest on their first night together, the man had gasped and jolted awake like the living dead, sucking in air like he’d been underwater for hours. This time, he refrained from touching him, and instead stared at his inhuman beauty. There wasn’t a mark or scar or freckle on him, and his darkly tanned body spread out over the white sheets like a bronze sculpture arranged in a gallery for the adoration of thousands. And yet he chose Alec to be his only supplicant. Something lurched in his chest and he smiled bashfully, blushing, although there was no one to witness it.

Awake, Sebastien looked maybe thirty, thirty five years old, but asleep, he looked far younger; closer to eighteen or nineteen perhaps, with an innocence around his white-lashed eyes and the natural downward curl of his beautiful lips.

Unable to resist touching him completely, Alec kissed him and rolled over, drawing the duvet up around his ears and sinking back into a deep, dreamless sleep. His whole body felt heavy and satiated in a way he’d never experienced before with anyone. Something clenched in his heart; this felt right somehow.

But nothing is fated to last forever, is it?

Alec stirred groggily, unwillingly, the next morning, becoming aware of a rapid-fire knocking on the apartment door. Grunting, he kicked back the covers and fished for a pair of boxers and a shirt from the floor beside the bed. Sebastien slept on, apparently not having moved at all since the previous evening. Did he have sleep apnoea or something? It was something he’d have to bring up after he’d sorted whatever this was. It wasn’t natural for a man to sleep like that.

Like the dead.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming,” he grumbled, stumbling across the apartment and peering though the peephole in the door. Twitching back in surprise, he opened it. “Theo?”

His little brother’s bright, sunny grin beamed back at him. “Hey bro,” he chuckled jovially, stepping in as if he owned the place and shooting him a cheeky look back over his shoulder. “Brunch?”

“Brunch?” Alec frowned. “Since when do you do ‘brunch’? And since when is it brunchtime anyway?” He glanced at the clock in the kitchen and his eyebrows rose. It was well past eleven o’clock.

“Late night, I see,” Theo snickered, eyeing Sebastien’s shirt which was still on the floor outside the bedroom door, currently ajar from Alec’s hasty exit.

“Shut up.”

Theo’s grin doubled and his blue eyes glittered. Like Alec, he had the unusual combination of dark hair and blue eyes, and like Alec he could be described as ‘roguish’ at times. Now though, it bordered on downright Puckish. Looking not his actual twenty-one years but somewhere closer to sixteen, Theo shook his head.

“Brother mine, when will you —” he snorted but then stopped and his expression fell, shattering from playful to horrified in a heartbeat before he rapidly attempted to cover it by turning towards the bedroom. “Is he still here?” he whispered.

“Yeah, so keep the jokes to a minimum, would you?” Alec snarled. “What did you want anyway?”

But Theo had changed completely. Gone was the ebullient Labrador puppy and instead a tense, alert, wary young man stood before him.

“What the fuck’s wrong?” Alec hissed, heartbeat ticking faster like an over-wound clock.

And Theo spun and then froze as the door to the bedroom opened and Sebastien appeared on the threshold.

Theo’s lip curled into an ugly snarl and Sebastien regraded him steadily, apparently unfazed by the unexpected hostility.

“The younger Twayblade, I assume,” he said with such ice in his usually warm tone that it shook Alec into stunned silence. “Well, this is unexpected.”

“You’re shitting me,” Theo whispered, horror thickening his tone.

Alec blinked and looked from Sebastien to his little brother and back again. Never in all his years of dating men had he felt so uneasy around a family member. “What’s going on…?” he finally croaked.

“That’s what — who — you’re sleeping with?” Theo practically spat out.

Cold, defensive vitriol bubbled up inside him and he might actually have lunged for his brother had Sebastien not crossed the room in three rapid strides and laid a gentle hand on his forearm. “I take my leave,” he said quickly.

“Not so fast, fang-face,” Theo sneered and Sebastien froze. “Get away from my brother.”

“Or what?” Sebastien said in the quietest and steadiest of voices.

“What the fuck is going on!” Alec blurted into the tense silence that followed Sebastien’s taunt.

The other two blinked, and Sebastien sighed. He met Alec’s eye as he asked, “You really didn’t know at all, did you?”

“Know what?” Alec snapped, rage rolling through him. “Do you two know each other or something? What am I missing here?”

“I think this is a family matter that you need to work out between you,” Sebastien said, voice still tinged with frost. “Alec, you know where to reach me if you decide to continue what we’ve shared this past month.” And with that, he turned and walked from the apartment.

“Wait, stop!” Alec yelled after him, but he was gone down the stairwell and Theo was at his side, tugging him back into the apartment. “Fucking explain yourself!” he snapped, rounding on his brother.

“You’d… better sit down.”

“No. Tell me what’s going on. Right now.”

Theo stared him down, meeting blazing sapphire stare with blazing sapphire stare. “Sit. Down.”

The tone of his voice shocked Alec into doing exactly that, and he sank numbly down onto the saggy old couch in the living room without a word.

What followed next was like something from a movie.

“The Twayblades are an ancient family of monster hunters,” Theo said gently. “Father’s not in the military. Well, he is, but it’s not a normal unit or anything. That’s just a cover.”

“And mother?” he asked mechanically, the information-dump that Theo had just heaped upon him not sinking in, but floating like scum on the surface of his churning mind.

“She’s one too. And Ellie.”

“Ellie hunts… monsters?” he asked. “Like… what… the Boogeyman? Bigfoot?” Incredulity made his tone flippant, but something in the calm sincerity of his brother’s eyes told him it was true, no matter how stupid it sounded.

“Dracula…?” Theo added darkly.

“Dracula.” And then the penny dropped. “Wait. ‘Fang-face’. You’re saying you think my boyfriend is a vampire?”

Theo levelled him with a look from where he was leaning against the windowsill, arms folded over his chest in a manner eerily reminiscent of his big brother.

Now as Alec regarded him, he saw the harsh young man that this little kid had become. The puppy fat had melted into a steel jaw and a hard gaze, and his body seemed coiled for action at any moment. He had the body of a soldier, Alec realised with plunging horror. He knew Theo worked out — he was apparently a personal trainer and nutritional coach for celebrities in London, but even that seemed to have been a lie after what he’d just learned. Apparently the Twayblades actually hunted monsters — he and their parents and their older sister Ellie. Alec and Angie had been left out because they were apparently not ‘hunter material’ whatever that meant. Maybe it meant he was a monster fucker instead. He almost laughed.

“Theo, come on… I can’t believe any of this,” Alec said, leaning back into the sofa and pressing the heels of his palms to his aching eyeballs. All he’d wanted to do this morning was to wake up and maybe have Sebastien fuck him into the mattress a few times before breakfast until he was wrung out and softly buzzing like they had every weekend for the last month.

Now he was having some bizarre fairytale forced at him and he was supposed to believe it like it was some kind of sick joke. But he did believe it, and that was what scared him most of all. It wasn’t a joke. Theo showed him videos his father and he had captured on some of their ‘hunts’, exterminating a poltergeist here and eradicating a revenant there, and in the end Theo phoned their father on speaker, opening without preamble, “Dad, Alec’s dating a vampire.”

“Do you have proof?” was their father’s instant, chilling response. No ‘I'm sorry, what did you say, son?’ or ‘What’s all this nonsense?’. No. He went straight to the heart of it. With a stake.

“Just walked past the sucker leaving the flat.”

“Ancient?”

“No, thank goodness. Maybe just a century at most?”

“Can you eliminate him without alerting Alec?” their father asked, at which point Alec’s heart cracked.

He leapt to his feet and blurted, “Fucking what?”

After a heartbeat of silence, their father sighed. “Unfortunate. I had hoped to keep you and Angela out of this.”

“You’re telling me it’s all real?”  he asked, goggling at Theo who held the phone out on speaker between them like it was a live grenade. “You’re all insane!”

“Tell me something, son,” his father said flatly. “Have his eyes ever flared red during a moment of passion? Does he seem to fixate on your neck? Do you find yourself willing to do as he wishes without question?”

Theo interjected quickly, “He’s not compelled. His eyes are clear.”

“Well, that’s something at least,” their father scoffed. “Theo, you know what you have to do. Kill it.”

“‘It’?” Alec shot, eyes bulging, and Theo did have the grace to cringe. “Kill it? You’re going to kill him? He’s a lecturer at the university, Theo. You can’t just fucking kill him?!”

“He might be under the guild rules…” Theo said. “He might be a blood bank user, not a live-feeder… I’ll look into it first.”

Alec’s knees turned to water but he kept himself upright through sheer force of will.

“Fine. But don’t hesitate. And don’t make concessions just because Alec might be compromised.”

Theo nodded and hung up without farewell. “Look, Alec,” he grimaced. “I’m… I’m sorry, ok? I didn’t come here to —”

“— to kill my boyfriend?” he growled, taking a step towards his little brother. To his credit, Theo did actually take half a step back in the face of Alec’s confused, hurt, betrayed ire, holding his hand palm-up.

“No. I came here to see if you wanted to grab lunch, but —”

“—Get out.”

“What?”

“Get out!” he roared, jabbing his index finger at the door and pulling out his phone.

Theo surprised him by nodding and leaving, shutting the door behind him with a click and leaving Alec standing in the centre of the living room, chest heaving, phone in hand, ears ringing.

As his brother’s footsteps disappeared down the stairwell, he unlocked his phone and dialled Sebastien’s number.

Three rings in, Sebastien answered.

“It it true?” Alec asked without preamble.

After a long inhale, Sebastien answered. “…Yes.”

__

Sorry for the cliffie!! More soon, but it’ll hit Patreon first, then Tumblr. Don’t let me forget, either!

Part Four

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I really hope you folks enjoyed this one! Don’t forget to let me  know if you did enjoy it by leaving a like and/or reblogging it!

__

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[xjoonchildx]

airplane, pt. 2 | jjk x reader chapter three: koreatown

pairing: jungkook/reader

word count: 3.4K rating: 18+

genre: smut | silly smut | nonsensical smut

warnings:  criminal!jungkook, koreanamerican!jungkook, reality has left the chat, plausibility has left the chat

A/N: so...as i’m turning this PWP into a P “with” P i actually had to add some plot lol. i really hope you guys like the direction this story is taking and i’m starting to feel a bit more confident about how it’s going to end. but please let me know what you think, hearing from you guys makes my day. i’d love to know if you think the plot is making any sense.  i mean, as much sense as a story about jungkook as a super hot criminal robber on the run with a federal agent lover could possibly make, ya know?

xoxo

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06

artwork by the shmexy @ppersonna​ who’s smut is even better than her art

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

A postcard comes in the mail seven weeks after San Juan.

Colorful block letters urge you to VISIT BELIZE over decorative shots of the country’s beautiful beaches and most visited spots.

The only thing that appears to be written on the card is your address. You examine it dozens of times, looking from front to back for any other marking. You come up empty.

There is one unusual thing you notice, though.  

The postmark.  

Clearly written at the top: Los Angeles 90005.

There’s no way this card was mailed out of Belize and there’s very little chance Jungkook managed to get back inside the country without setting off a thousand alerts on your phone.  

You assume he must have routed it through his parents.

You’ve tried so damned hard these past few weeks not to think about what happened in Puerto Rico.  You’ve tried to forget the full-body shock you experienced when he asked you to play along with his absurd fantasy.  You tell yourself there’s no way he could possibly believe that you would go on the run with him.  

But then you remember the look on his face.

Seeing this postcard -- holding it in your hands -- makes San Juan real again. It’s not some bizarre fever dream you had or some figment of your imagination.  The emotions it dredges up are uncomfortable to confront. 

Is he in trouble? Is he asking for help? What are you supposed to do with this?

Logically, you know there’s nothing you can do.  

So you slip the card into your bedside drawer and file the information away in that part of your brain that seems to now be dedicated to thinking about Jungkook Jeon full-time. 

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

Over the next few weeks, two more cards arrive.

Guatemala.

Honduras.

That fake passport Jungkook apparently managed to get his hands on seems to be getting a workout.

Each time a new card comes in the mail -- always postmarked out of LA, the knot in your stomach seems to loosen.  He’s still going. He’s not locked away somewhere.  

Not yet, anyway.

You try to remind yourself that he’s smart -- really, really smart. He has a knack for staying under the radar. His Spanish is probably pretty decent at this point. He’s making or finding enough money to stay on the move.

Maybe he’s got a plan. Maybe he’s figured something out.

But it’s hard to keep the anxiety at bay. You watch your phone like a hawk, waiting to see an email or text saying he’s been caught.  You spend every day waiting for the other shoe to drop.  

So the cards go into your drawer -- and you get up and get dressed and go into the office every day like you’re not secretly rooting for the criminal so many of your colleagues are looking for.

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

The other shoe finally drops when you bump into Agent Novak in the cafeteria one afternoon. 

Novak is one of those guys who looks like he’s straight out of central casting on a crime show.  He has the appearance of a boxy, overgrown boy.  Always dressed in a muted grey suit, always sporting a military-grade short haircut.  The only thing that stands out on his completely non-descript face is his big mouth.

And right now you should be very glad for his big, fat mouth.

“You hear about your boy Jeon?” he asks, while piling his plate high with mac and cheese.  The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end for a moment at the mere mention of Jungkook’s name.

You move down the buffet line next to Novak slowly, the sudden adrenaline rush making your limbs feel weak and loose.

“Jeon?” you ask with feigned nonchalance. “Courthouse Houdini?”

“That’s the one,” Novak says, dropping two huge pieces of fried chicken onto his plate.  “My buddy in the Marshals says they’re pretty close to bringing that asshole in,” he continues, adding some crinkle fries into the mix for good measure.

God, you hope he doesn’t have a heart attack before you get all the information you need. 

He needs a trough, not a plate.

“Well, it’s about time,” you reply carefully and you hope it sounds convincing.   “Where?”

“Central America,” he says, reaching down to his plate to start picking off the crinkle fries one-by-one.  “Guatemala or some shit.”

A chill runs up your spine when you think about those postcards in your drawer. 

They’re close. 

They could be there right now.  

He could be in handcuffs again right now.

“Hope they have better luck than I did keeping him nailed down,” you say, willing your voice and face to stay even.

“Oh trust me,” he says, talking around a mouthful of crinkle fry. “They’re going to teach that motherfucker a lesson when they get their hands on him.  He won’t be able to walk, much less run.”

You swallow against the bile rising in your throat.

“That’s what he gets, right?”

Novak nods, grabbing for a chicken finger. You cringe when he shoves it into his mouth. Tiny pieces of the breading stick to his lips and you fight the urge to gag. 

God, has he always been such a pig?

“Damn straight.”

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

You circle the block three times before you feel comfortable enough to park.  

The neighborhood is quiet and clean and solidly middle-class.  The house you are looking for is neat and well-kept, lawn trimmed and flower beds nicely maintained. It looks like a nice place to live.

You cut the ignition and take a deep breath.

You have to remind yourself that Jungkook is not Al fucking Capone and there’s no reason for the government to have around-the-clock surveillance on his family home.  You have to maintain a level head even under this insane set of circumstances.

You try not to think about how furious he would probably be if he knew you were here right now.  

Maybe someday he’ll understand why you’re doing this.

Maybe someday you’ll understand why you’re doing this.

You’d worked late at the office, preferring to make this move when the sun went down.  You’re glad for the cover of darkness when you step out of your car and knock on the front door at the Jeon family home.

“Can I help you?” 

You take a deep breath when Mr. Jeon opens the front door. He has the same kind, handsome face as Jungkook, only his is weathered with age and worry.  

“Mr. Jeon, I need to speak with you about your son.”

His eyes widen for a moment. He seems to pull back and assess the way you’re dressed, figures out you’re one of those government-types.

“I’ve already said everything I have to say on the matter,” he says shortly, moving to shut the door.

“Wait, please,” you say urgently.  “I’m trying to help him, I swear. I can explain if you let me in.”

He stops for a moment, levels you with a critical look.

“I think he’s in trouble,” you say quietly.

Mr. Jeon sighs heavily before opening the door wide and letting you in.  

“I’m sorry to turn up at your home like this,” you say, moving immediately across the living room to close the blinds on all the street-facing windows.  “But I’m not sure how much time I have.”

He watches in total silence but you can see he’s unnerved.

“I’m just...being cautious,” you explain, and he nods.

Once you’re satisfied no one can see inside, you start to calm down a bit.  Mr. Jeon offers you a seat on the living room couch.

“This is a very strange situation, I know,” you admit. 

He remains mute and still, waiting for you to cough up some kind of explanation. 

“Do you know who I am?” you ask.

“No.”

His response is clipped and severe and you really can’t blame him.

“Okay,” you say, blowing out a breath. “Yes, I am with the FBI. But I --” you pause for a moment, grasping for a way to explain this bizarre situation. “ -- I know Jungkook.  Personally.”

Intimately. Biblically, as they say.

“Okay,” he says cautiously.

“I need you to get in touch with him because I think he’s going to be arrested. Soon.”

Mr. Jeon rubs a hand across the back of his neck.

“I don’t know where he is.  And I can’t get in touch with him,” he admits.  “He doesn’t want us to know where he is because then you people will have something to hold over us.”

You wince at the venom in that statement.

A faint voice from another room calls out.

“Excuse me for a moment,” Mr. Jeon says. 

He leaves you alone on the couch in the family room.

You wipe your sweaty palms on your dress pants as you take a look around.  The decor is soft and welcoming, with a few nods to Korea in the artwork on the walls.  It looks like a nice place to grow up, you think. The thought helps calm you.

He reappears after a minute.

“I’m sorry about that,” he says apologetically.  “I would really prefer my wife not know about this. This situation has already caused her a lot of pain.”

“Of course -- I understand,” you say quietly. “So you have no way to contact him?”

“No.  Not directly.”

“Then I need to know how you contact him indirectly.  He’s been sending me postcards somehow. Do you know who could be sending me postcards from him?”

His face falls a bit.

“I shouldn’t say.  I’m not trying to get anyone else in trouble.”

You lean forward a bit, fix him with a look that you hope conveys just how sincere you are about trying to help.

“I don’t want anyone else to get in trouble, either. But if you don’t give me that name, I promise you Jungkook will be. Please.”

Mr. Jeon sighs.

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

You pull the brim of your baseball cap low over your eyes and adjust your sunglasses before walking into Min’s Market.

The small, family-owned store is in one of Koreatown’s most populated neighborhoods. You keep your head low as you dodge people on the sidewalk to make your way inside. An electronic chime sounds when you walk in.

The only thing you see in your quick glance around the store is a young man behind the register. He stands when you make eye contact and you take that as the go-ahead to approach.

He’s not a large guy by any means, but he definitely gives off a do not fuck with me vibe.  You straighten your spine and get right to the point.

“Are you Yoongi?”

“Nope.”

He’s lying, of course.  His eyes are narrowed at you beneath long black fringe bangs and you can’t blame his skepticism given the giant sunglasses and the hat and the workout clothes you’re hiding under.  You look like you’re trying way too hard not to be noticed.

“I need to talk to you about Jungkook,” you say anyway.

“Never heard of him.”

Okay, not entirely unexpected.  You’d come prepared for the possibility that he wouldn’t want to play ball.

You reach into your bag and pull out the postcards, drop them on the counter in front of him.

“You’ve been sending me these,” you say firmly. “And we need to talk.”

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

Yoongi takes you to the tiny office tucked into the back of Min’s Market.  The space is cluttered with invoices and notes written in Hangul.  There’s a monitor display where he can watch the surveillance cameras at the front of the store.

He motions for you to take a seat on the one small chair he has and opts to lean against the office desk, arms crossed.

“So you’re Carver Street, huh?”

You take your sunglasses off so you can look him in the eye.

“Yeah.”

“And you’re… a Fed.”

He delivers that line with a cynical twist to his mouth that makes you feel self-conscious.

“Yeah.”

“Shit’s wild,” he says, more to himself than to you.

“Yeah, wild,” you exhale nervously. “Look, I’m sure you don’t want to be involved here any more than you already are, so I’ll just come out with it,” you say.  “I need to get in touch with Jungkook.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes.  

“Look, I don’t know you, okay? Maybe he does, but I don’t.  And I’m not trying to be an asshole here, but I’m not going to give you that information.”

You rub at the corners of your temples with your fingers.

“You know he’s been reaching out to me. You know he trusts me.”

Yoongi snickers.

“We haven’t exactly had the chance to catch up over beers since this whole mess started.  The only thing I know for sure is that he wants you to get those postcards,” he says.

“Okay, okay, you’re right,” you concede.  “I’m pretty sure he’s in Honduras right now.  And I need you to reach him as fast as you can. Because they are closing in on him and I don’t know how long he’s got.”

Yoongi shoves a hand through his hair.

“Okay.  I’ll tell him.”

“How fast can you reach him?”

“Look, I said I’ll tell him, okay?”

You tell yourself to relax before you scare Yoongi off entirely.  It looks like his patience with you is already worn thin.

“Okay.  Please tell him to try to get to Nicaragua,” you say, careful to keep the agitation from creeping back into your voice.  “They have a history of denying extradition requests to the U.S.  It could buy us some time to figure out what to do.”

“Us?” 

Yoongi quirks an eyebrow at you, the corners of his mouth lifting in a barely-concealed look of astonishment. You feel the blush that spreads across your face all the way to the tips of your ears.

“Him,” you correct yourself awkwardly, “it could buy him some time to figure out what to do.”

He grabs a pen and scribbles on a sheet of paper on the desk.

“Nicaragua, okay. Got it.”

“And please -- if you can -- get him this,” you say, handing Yoongi your own slip of paper with a number written on it.  “It’s a burner.  In case he needs to get in touch.”

Yoongi takes the number from you and nods.

“Alright.”

You stand to leave, knowing you’ve taken as much of his time as you’re allowed.  

“One more thing and I promise you’ll never hear from me again,” you say, pointing to the monitor inside the office.

“Delete that,” you say. “Please.”

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

You dig around in your cabinet until you find the wine glass you’re looking for -- the huge one -- and then you reach into the fridge for what’s left of your Sauvignon Blanc and dump it into that glass.

Nothing to do now but hope he gets the message in time.  

Nothing to do now but watch your work phone and see if he’s been arrested.

Nothing to do now but watch your burner phone to see if he’s contacted you.

It’s time to admit your nerves are shot.  Weeks of heightened anxiety are taking its toll and the past two days have felt like a marathon.  

You run a bath -- make sure the water is close to painfully hot before you sink into the tub.  Your body feels exhausted but your mind is still racing like you’ve shotgunned a cup of coffee.  

You lean your head back against the ledge of the bath and take a long drink of the wine.

What if he makes it to Nicaragua? What does that even mean? You buy a few more weeks of the same on-the-run bullshit and for what? 

What is the end game here? And for that matter why on earth are you doing any of this?

You barely know this man.  And now it’s starting to feel like you barely know yourself.

Your fingers and toes are pruny and the water is lukewarm at best when you finally crawl out of the tub.  You down the rest of your wine, throw a soft t-shirt on and fall into the bed.

All night you toss and turn and when you finally wake it’s like you never slept at all.

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

It’s a few days before you see Novak again.  

You happen to overhear his obnoxiously loud laugh just outside your office and your entire body jolts to attention.  

You jump up from your desk and peer outside.

Novak is busy chatting up a woman who works a few spaces down, no doubt boring her with unwanted banter about his weekend.  He happens to look up and you motion for him to come over. 

“Hey, yeah, I’ll be right there,” he says, and you head back to your desk on leaden legs.

Maybe he knows something, maybe he doesn’t.  

You’ve got to figure out how to walk the line between interested in the search for Jungkook but not too interested. Thankfully, Novak doesn’t strike you as the type to pick up on the subtleties of most interactions.  If he was, he’d stop bugging that woman right away.

He knocks loudly on your open door when he finally makes his way over.

“Hey,” he grins widely. “What’s up?”

“Hey,” you smile back, feeling a cold panic spread across your chest.  Maybe you’re not ready to hear what he has to say. 

“I was wondering if your buddies ever caught up to Jeon.”

“Man listen,” Novak says, helping himself to a chair. “You are not going to believe this shit.”

Your fingernails grip your legs underneath the desk, dig painfully into the skin just above your knees through the thin fabric of your pants.

“Did he...get away, again?” you ask, desperate to keep a note of hope out of your voice.

“Yup,” Novak confirms.  “Piece of shit cleared out by the time the Marshals they sent down there managed to get to where he was. Some place in Honduras or something.”

Novak shakes his head.

“My buddies are sick of looking for his ass at this point. At some point they’ve got to call it off, right?”

You can barely register a thing he’s saying because oh my god he made it out.

“Wow,” you manage, trying to appear appropriately sympathetic and outraged. “That’s unbelievable.”

“Yeah so,” Novak says, “back to the drawing board on that one, I guess.”

You’re forced to sit through a few more minutes of his blabber and small talk but all you can think about is Jungkook making it out in time.  All you can think about is getting back to your house and to that burner phone.

When Novak finally stands to leave, you nearly sigh out loud with relief.

“Hey, good luck to your buddies, yeah?  That’s got to be pretty frustrating,” you say, walking him out the door. 

“Yeah, I’ll pass the message along,” he says. “I’m sure you’re just as ready as they are to see this guy get what he deserves.”

You smile weakly.

“Oh, definitely.”

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

You make a beeline for the ladies room and walk right into a stall.  

Once inside, you drop the seat lid and sit on top, desperate for just one moment to be alone with your thoughts.

He made it out.  He’s not in custody.  Maybe there’s a way to fix this entire mess.

Then you fall apart. 

You’ve reached the limit of what you can handle without some kind of emotional release.  The panic and the anxiety and the relief and the hope come together and boil over inside you.

The tears start coming and they don’t stop. 

You have to flush the toilet three times to cover the sound of your sobs.

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

You race home from the office and practically dive for the burner phone in your nightstand.  The entire drive back, you’ve told yourself not to expect a message.

It’s entirely possible he doesn’t want to contact you.  

It’s entirely possible that he doesn’t have anything to say to you after the way you left things in San Juan.  You tell yourself to be ready to see absolutely nothing when you check the burner.

But when you do unlock the phone, you find a waiting text.  You steel yourself for what he has to say.

nicaragua is boring [ 3:15 PM ]

send nudes [ 3:15 PM ]

You laugh.  

You laugh for so hard and so long your tears gather in the corner of your eyes.  You laugh until your sides start to hurt from the absolute absurdity.  

It’s so him that you have to laugh.

That night, when you fall into bed you sleep an inky black sleep, without dreams or interruptions.  

It’s the best rest you’ve gotten in weeks.

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

[wheres-sam]

I binge-watched the spn anime because of the brain rot

It’s bad except for the parts that are good, and it’s pretty to look at. Here’s a comprehensive list of pros and cons. Spoilers ahead!

Pros:

- more psychic kid backstories: Max (Nightmare), Lily (Darkness Calling), Jake (Loser)

- more psychic Sam

- more Azazel

- basically if you want more about the psychic/demon kids, watch the anime

- more young Winchesters

- the monsters, the superhuman abilities, the fight scenes, it all looks really cool animated. (But PSA it’s violent. It doesn’t shy away from blood and gore.)

- Sam and Jessica backstory

- more of the brothers being cute and funny together

- Missouri isn’t forgotten

- includes some Japanese legends/mythology

- the impala looks great in every scene. They did Baby good

- the “Supernatural” intro title

- the outro sketches of the boys hanging out with Baby

- Episodes adapted from the original show are different, but I like some of the changes? It’d be boring if it was an exact retelling and the visual medium wasn’t utilized. (I know I said spoilers before, but this is when they get detailed. If you wanna skip over, I’ll tell you where they STOP.)

Nightmare goes more into the abuse Max has suffered. Instead of locking Sam in a closet, Max sends Sam through the floor and covers the hole by breaking his bed in half, and it’s extremely sexy how Sam shoves the 2 halves apart with his mind. Later on Dean puts bandaids on Sam and they talk about demons loudly in front of a fast food intercom.

In My Time of Dying highlights the guilt Sam feels over Dean. In both the og and the anime John verbally blames Sam for not shooting Azazel, but where in the og Sam goes right on arguing, in the anime he reels back for a moment like he was slapped. Dean’s spirit touches Sam’s shoulder, and Sam knows immediately that it’s Dean. He doesn’t even question it. Instead of “Are you here?” it’s “I know you’re with me. I can feel it.” And I love that. Dean figures out right away he’s dealing with a reaper, and the reaper takes on the appearance of Mary to convince Dean to move on to the afterlife. Instead of a Ouija board, Sam uses a laptop to talk to Dean, and the first word Dean types is “Sammy!” Dean is so fond of his little brother and Sam is so baby.

Rising Son is an anime only episode, but it draws inspiration from John’s journal. Dean has a proper breakdown over his dad’s death and the possibility of having to kill Sam. Ms. Lyle, Sam’s favorite teacher who turns out to be possessed, is explored. John takes Dean hunting, and in the journal Dean hesitates to shoot a buck, and little Sam shoots it thinking it was endangering Dean. In the anime, Dean’s cornered by a moose and Sam makes it explode with his mind and it’s so !!! How little Sam’s first words are, “I’m glad you’re okay. It didn’t hurt you?” The boys are covered in blood and guts and Dean’s like 👁👄👁 “Why are you here? Did you do this?” And then Sam starts freaking out a little, the shock sets in. “I don’t know. I don’t know, honest.” And he’s staring at his hands, and I am a big fan of Sam showing superhuman signs as a kid. Like in the journal, Ms. Lyle tries to take Sam. She gives Sam the illusion of a choice to come with her or stay with Dean, and Sam chooses Dean. This ep is pretty much when John figures out Sam has demon blood. He kills another hunter that wants to kill Sam.

Crossroad is based on Crossroad Blues, and I love how the crossroads demon shows up. It’s hard to describe, but it’s so neat, like she’s walking underneath Dean in this mirror world, and then the mirror world takes over the regular world, so you really get this sense of otherworldly seclusion, existing outside of time.

What Is and Should Never Be shows Dean is a firefighter in his ‘Mary never died’ world, and Sam got to play soccer growing up like he wanted. The brothers hold each other after Dean is saved from the Djinn.

AHBL part 1. When Azazel shows Sam that he fed Sam his blood, Sam gags and slaps a hand over his mouth, and I like that reaction more than the live action. The psychic kids get to go more anime with their powers, and that’s a lot of fun. They don’t need weapons. Ava slams Sam into the brick side of a building and cuts him without touching him. Jake snaps Ava’s neck with one hand and then catches Sam in his arms. When Jake attacks Sam, there’s no gun or knife. He’s relying on his super strength, his fists. Sam throws his arms up to protect himself, and (accidentally?) pushes Jake back with his mind, and the collision creates a crater in the ground. Jake puts his fist through Sam’s chest to kill him. It’s brutal and it’s rad as fuck. These kids are terrifyingly powerful.

The Sam and Dean reunion before Sam is killed is not as emotional as the live action imo, but what the anime does intrigues me. Hurts in a different way. Because Sam is stunned after he uses telekinesis again, on Jake, and when he hears Dean behind him Sam freezes. He doesn’t look relieved to see Dean, but wary and weary. It’s Dean taking steps towards him, not the other way around, and it has to be because Sam doesn’t know if Dean saw him push Jake back. Sam doesn’t know how Dean’s going to respond to all this, to him, having powers that come from a demon, the demon, Azazel. Sam hasn’t had a chance to process anything. He’s scared. He’s tired. And the way the anime focuses on Sam’s eyes here. Gah. “Dean. Dean, I’m...” I’m sorry. I’m all right. I’m glad you’re okay. I’m a monster. There’s also this one shot between Sam and Azazel that sends me because of how anime it is.

AHBL part 2. I love how Sam brought back to life is animated, with all the color returning to his face and a light wind rustling his hair and his lips parting to indicate his soul returning to his body. Jake attacks Dean, and, a lot like how Sam activates telekinesis to save Dean from Max in Nightmare, Sam gets a burst of superhuman strength. He rips Jake’s arm off and tackles him to the ground and beats him to death, punches holes into his body, and it’s so savage and bloody and scary, and I love it. The Devil’s Gate opening looks so cool animated. Same goes for Dean shooting Azazel with the Colt.

Not to turn this into a meta post, but I also noticed how the last couple times Sam uses his powers they’re colored green-yellow, the same colors as Mary’s ghost when she reveals herself in the anime’s Home, and I don’t know if that’s intentional, but it’s neat how it draws a connection to Sam’s biological family instead of Azazel’s blood.

The Spirit of Vegas is like Bad Day at Black Rock, but Dean has all the bad luck instead, and it shows off the silly cartoony physics that make animation fun. The boys sleep outside and split a chunk of bread for dinner. Also this lil bit of Dean’s hair tied in a bow.

- (STOP) the brothers are pretty. I am not immune to animated Sam and Dean Winchester.

Cons:

- Jensen doesn’t voice Dean until the last 2 episodes

- The English dialogue is really bad sometimes. I wish I could’ve watched the sub, but I couldn’t figure out how to change the language

- Some character designs are really different from the live action, and maybe that’s petty, but if you’re gonna change the characters diversify them? Don’t just make them unrecognizable white people

- Missouri’s design as a stereotypical witch doctor is racist

- Gordon is replaced by some British guy named Jason?? Why

- There’s an LGBT character who is not accepted by her family and, while that bigotry is always shown to be negative and she dies the hero of the episode, she still dies ://

- In the English dub Lily’s gf is made into her roommate instead. Idk about the sub

- Bobby’s pretty much a totally different character

- Sam and Dean are OOC sometimes

- Dean’s hair usually looks darker than Sam’s and it drives me crazy

- The storytelling is, overall, not nearly as good as the live action

- The non-Japanese lore in some episodes makes no sense. Sometimes it’s just plain ridiculous?? Like there’s a giant robot made of cars and scrap metal controlled by a demon? ? I wish I was making this up

- Meg’s role is severely reduced

- No Harvelles or Roadhouse

- Shadows are overused, but maybe that’s because the og show is so dark?

- I don’t mind the art style. I like the aesthetic, but I wish it was a little more expressive. It doesn’t do Sam’s puppy eyes justice.

- AZAZEL’S SHADOW?? PROPORTIONS?? PEA SIZED HEAD

- Idk why they mashed season 1 and 2 together? The story feels rushed

- there’s not as much chemistry between Sam and Dean, but that’s a given without J2 on screen

- Nobody tells you!! That there’s scenes after the credits!! And some of them are important! Why are important scenes after the credits??

The anime would not be good on its own, without the heart and depth the live action brings, but it works as supplementary material you can cherry pick from. I would watch more if there were more episodes.

It hasn’t turned me off from wanting an spn anime. I’d like to see it continued or redone, with updated animation and better scripts. There’s a lot of potential in exploring more about the psychic kids and Sam’s powers, storylines that were cut short in the og show. Animation is a great medium for showing off the supernatural, getting creative and creepier with the designs, dramatic with the fight scenes, without having to worry about bad CGI. I don’t want a live action reboot, but I think a redone animated series could be a lot of fun! (As long as it’s not an excuse to make any romantic ships take over. SPN is a platonic love story, and I like it that way.)

If you made it to the end here and are interested in watching the spn anime, you can watch it for free on the CW Seed app! You can probably stream it elsewhere, but idk where!

[cutest-bug]

Interview with Adrien Agreste! Subject: The Oxygen Project.

Conducted by Alya Cesaire

Ok so I haven’t been able to stop thinking about this addition to a post I made on my main blog about Adrien low key trashing the Agreste brand the way Robert Pattinson does Twilight. I know it was meant to be more of a goofy idea but my head is full of angst and this is what I came up with at 4 a.m. lol.

Alya smiles warmly as Adrien settles into the seat across from her.

“Are you ready?” She asks. He gives her a slightly nervous smile but nods. She nods to Nino who hits record and Adriens face immediately smoothes over into a pleasant and unreadable mask. It’s actually a little freaky to watch.

It’s a Monday afternoon and they’re set up in the art room during their lunch period. Adrien looks as perfectly neutral as always. Non flashy designer labels and tousled hair that probably took 20 minutes to style. For once though, his actions will be a little less perfect and easy to swallow.

“Hi Adrien, thanks for agreeing to an interview on the Ladyblog, I’m glad we could finally do this.”

He smiles and considers for a moment before answering, tiling his head a degree, “The pleasure is mine Alya, especially since I’m the one who approached you about doing this.”

That’s true. Right after the class joined Mylene and Ivan for their protest of the Oxygen Project Adrien asked to speak with her. He was upset that he had been tricked into modeling for the project without knowing what it was for. While most of his die hard fans had gotten wind he didn’t support it, he wanted to farther remedy the situation and use his position to reach a wider audience. Of course there weren’t many platforms he could do that on behind his fathers back, hence asking for Alya’s help.

“Still, I know interviews aren’t your favorite. Otherwise I probably would have asked you a while ago.”

Adrien smiled again, a little more genuinely (the one she knew Marinette was so fond of), “I don’t really like probing questions from journalists about my personal life. The fact that you’ve never asked or taken advantage of knowing me means a lot. I trust you.”

“Personally I think it’s a little crazy you have to do all of those interviews at all. You’re only 15, your life shouldn’t be so public.”

Adrien lets the smile fall several degrees. It’s deliberate, he’s letting people see his discomfort, “Well, it kind of goes hand and hand with all of the modeling. I’m the face of the Agreste brand.”

Alya nods and looks down at the papers in her lap, “Which is the point of our interview today, really.” They had agreed on what was and wasn’t to be talked about before hand, however they don’t have a planned out dialogue. They agreed that they both do well with more organic conversation, and it’s important the interview comes off as very genuine.

Adrien nods in agreement and Alya continues, “Now that the plan for the Oxygen Project is officially canceled, it’s time to clear up what your involvement with the promotion of it was. Nearly everyone in Paris saw the ads that ran.” Unfortunately it had been to late for Mayor Bourgeois to cancel the first few days of ads. For nearly a week Adriens face played on every television in the city, telling everyone about what a great breath of fresh air the project would be.

Alya hands him the first photo in her lap. It’s of him with the class after they first arrived at the protest, looking interested but not particularly emotional yet. It’s from the video that she filmed, but there was a pretty low view rate on the protest coverage. The interview with Adrien will probably get anywhere from 3 to 5 times as many.

“What not everyone realizes is that you were present during the planned tree cutting ceremony and following protest. So what was going on for you at this point in the day Adrien?”

“Our whole class had just gone to the park to support Mylene and Ivan, our friends who lead the protest. Right after we arrived Mylene started arguing with the Mayor about whether the project was good for the environment or not.”

“That girl has a hidden fire!” Alya adds, “I have a section dedicated to activism on the blog now. The video from the whole day is there but I also posted some smaller segments explaining the conflict and a few more that Mylene recommended on how to get involved.”

Adrien gave his most genuine smile yet, “I watched those! I hope your viewers take the time to check them out. I know the super hero fights are exciting, I mean I’ve been glued to your blog from the start, but I’m glad people like Mylene and Ivan are reminding us to keep our eyes on the big picture too.”

Alya nods, “So am I. Ok, it was during this argument that the ad was first shown correct?”

Adrien lets the smile fall completely this time, “Yes. Apparently the plan was always to air it for the first time during the tree cutting ceremony. It was also the first time I’d seen it.”

“I’m sure most of our viewers have seen it already, so I’m not going to play it now,” Adrien shoots her a grateful look, “Adrien, she says kindly, “I remember how surprised you were when the ad played. Do you want to tell everyone why?”

Adrien looks down at his hands, “I hadn’t known what the ad was for when I filmed it. I thought it was another one of those silly perfume commercials.” Alya isn’t sure if him saying “silly” was a slip up or on purpose but she struggles not to laugh.

“Did someone tell you it was a perfume commercial or did you just assume when you were given the script?”

“I was told it was for perfume.”

“Can I ask who by?”

She thinks the discomfort is genuine this time. Everything else is the video isn’t that bad, but this line could bring hell for him.

“My father told me it was.”

This isn’t news for Nino or Alya but she pauses for a long moment to let viewers digest that before asking her next question, “Do you know why he lied to you?”

“I suppose he thought I wouldn’t be ok with doing it otherwise.”

Alya smiles, a little proud, before handing him another picture. She’ll edit them into the screen for viewers to see later, “Well he thought correctly. Here’s a picture of you standing with Mylene and our friend Marinette, forming a physical barrier so the trees wouldn’t be cut down,” she pauses for a moment while Adrien examines the picture, “I gotta say, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so angry.”

“I had just found out my image was going to be used to promote an anti-ecological plan that would harm our city. My friends had spent months trying to prevent it. I was furious.”

And Bam! As soon as she posts this video Adrien’s empty head, pretty face, good boy persona is shattered. He just admitted to having feelings. Angry ones. Directed at his father. Not to mention opinions on political matters. That is not the pretty face most of Paris is familiar with and fawns over.

“I’d be angry too,” Alya sympathizes.

Adrien puts the photo down and looks at her with a serious expression, “That’s the main reason I wanted to do this interview. For better or worse I have a lot of sway with my fans and public opinion. There’s still some controversy about the Oxygen Project being canceled so I want to be very clear that I do not stand with it,” he looks directly into the camera, “The oxygen project would have only helped the people profiting from it. The only ethical solutions for our city, and the whole world, are complicated, long term, sustainable options that will protect and rejuvenate our planet. No one has said it better than Mylene and Ivan so please go check out those videos under the activism section. Help if you can, and spread the word about the truth. It’s important that people know when they’re being lied to by a corporate campaign.”

Alya realized she stopped breathing for a moment because oh my god that was so good. She manages to quietly clear her throat and thank Adrien for the interview again. He plasters back on his polite smile and they give a brief hug before she gestures to Nino to stop filming.

“OH MAN! That was awesome!” Nino pulls Adrien into a one armed hug and doesn’t let go.

Adrien smiles a little bashfully, “You think? It wasn’t to much?”

“No way Adrien,” Alya cuts in, “the whole thing was great but that bit at the end? Amazing. Mylene will be thrilled.”

Nino pulls away from their friend a bit and clasps his shoulder, “Are you going to be ok though? Your old man is not going to be cool with like, any of that, is he?”

Adrien purses his lips and shrugs, “Don’t worry about my dad, I can handle him.”

Alya can see the fake nonchalance a mile away. Marinette is the queen of it after all, so she tells him, “Adrien this is really brave of you but I just want to make sure you know you’re in charge of this narrative. I probably won’t finish editing everything until tomorrow because I have a project to finish tonight. If you change your mind there’s no hard feelings. Or if there’s something you decide you want left out I’ll work some editing magic.”

Adrien smiles but her words don’t seem to relieve any tension, “Thanks Alya, it means a lot. By the way, where’s Marinette? I thought she was coming?”

“She’s probably just got caught up with something but I’ll see if she messaged me.” Alya checks her phone and realizes she left it on silent after the test last period. No texts from Marinette, but there is an akuma alert which explains her absence. She tries to ignore the immediate twinge of worry.

Adrien suddenly looks up from his own phone and rushes to grab his bag, “I actually got to go, my dad wants me home until the akuma attack is over. Best keep my head down until the bomb drops tomorrow right?” He rushes out before Alya or Nino can respond.

Nino sighs after his best friend runs out, “It’s so unfair he’s having to rectify his dad’s bad choices.”

Alya takes his hand, “I know. Something tells me this won’t be the last time he does so either. We’ll be there to support him though.” Her boyfriend gives her a soft smile and she kisses him on the cheek, “Come on, I want footage of that akuma fight.”

Nino glances down at his phone, “Actually it looks like the fight just ended a minute ago.”

“Wow that was short. It couldn’t have gone longer than the ten minutes we did the interview with Adrien for.”

“You’ll catch the next one,” he grins at her, “one way or another.”

She laughs, “okay turtle boy, let’s go get some lunch before we have to head back to class.”

They run into a slightly dejected Adrien on the way. He gives them an interview smile. They all find Marinette and get lunch. They keep the conversation light and avoid talking about the bomb Alya’s going to post tomorrow.

This is self indulgent. I really need Adrien taking some control of his life and standing up to his dad. Yes it’s painful but it’s so important that Adrien puts some distance between them in the public eye before Gabriel is revealed as Hawkmoth. I’m just hoping that can actually happen in canon but I have many fears this season.

[lilallama]

(Sorry if I spell something wrongly lol) Idk, This is my opinion? Gryffindor, Jungkook. Hufflepuff, Taehyung & Yoongi. Ravenclaw, Namjoon & Jin. Slytherin, Jimin & Hobi??? I literally just searched the meaning of each house and just picked one based on the personality shown. Also, If you don't think this matches them, Sorry ;-;

[Don't worry, sweetie ^^. You don't have to apologise! 💕🍑]

Hoseok is a lot more two faced than I actually tend to show. The way he presents himself is mostly a mask. While he seems mostly calm on the outside, he's actually quite the opposite on the inside. Out of all the boys it'd be easiest for him to manipulate/influence Y/n (@bangtans-apollo Tae is quacking-) and he's aware of that. That's one of the reasons why they started the club 1. To protect Y/n, 2. The club concept came because it'd be easier to meet up and they would automatically get a clubroom and 3. Hoseok threatened to tell on them if they don't join, he'd make Y/n despise each one of them.

He is a strong leader (one of the Slytherin traits), I try to make him resourceful (but I am not myself so that might not shine through too much), he is definitely cunning. The whole ordeal with wanting to be with Y/n no matter what is pretty ambitious, I'd say. And lastly the traditionalism trait, he is very into tradition and has to keep his domestic fantasies with Y/n a secret. His parents raised him very traditional, he would hate it if (female) Y/n would ask him out first or would propose first and would at first frown upon his attention to (male or non binary) Y/n.

All in all Slytherin seems very accurate.

Now concerning Jimin; similar to Hoseok he too can be a two faced snake. He doesn't hide his true thoughts from Y/n or the boys, if anything he overshares sometimes (one time he started talking to Taehyung about some... rather inappropriate things concerning Y/n. That got his Y/n privilege taken away for a whole month). And despite practically pleading to be the "dumb bimbo" stereotype, he is surprisingly clever and intelligent. Before Highschool, before he made his first experiences with popular boys, he was a straight A's and B's student. Yet once he had his first boyfriend, he discovered that the people surrounding him typically preferred the dumb blondes. (He actually broke up with the captain of the football team for Y/n.)

He also sometimes displays ambitious, just in a whiney sort of way. Self preservation is definitely something. Unlike Taehyung, Yoongi, Namjoon or Jeongguk, he wouldn't let himself be killed for Y/n's sake. If Y/n were to be killed he would end up deluding himself into thinking a person who looks similar to them is them and would force Y/n's personality and style on them. Cunningness is 100% accurate. He's fake. He pretends to be a silly sweetheart who loves everyone but will spread rumours about you, blame things on you etc. and everyone believes him. His cunningness concerning Y/n is more whiney than anything.

So I do think Jimin fits Slytherin.

Namjoon was raised by strict parents who forbade him a tremendous amount of things and painted his world for him. It was engraved in his head, he was going to be the CEO of their company one day. Yet despite everything he still had a head of his own. Maye it was because if his high IQ that he understood that his parents weren't the only opinion in his life. Don't get me wrong, they still left him scarred (sadly literally, as his father once hit him bloody) and traumatised but not without a mind of his own. Ever since he was small creativity and originality was something he admired and loved. It was partly reason of why he fell for Y/n, their individuality, their mind, their heart, their soul.

We will not need to discuss intelligence, it's a trait he undoubtedly has. He is always willing to learn and showed interest in many different things before Y/n captured his focus. He is most likely one of the wisest members as he is aware of how twisted his love for them truly is (once again something I tend to fail at portraying) and tried to stop it when it started. But somehow that only made everything worse and by now he doesn't care anymore at all. When he was a child he used to be more openly curious than nowadays (as it caused him many punishments from his parents).

I feel that Namjoon would fit Ravenclaw.

Seokjin was spoiled all his life. His parents adored him, other kids adored him, everyone adored him. While he might've acted oblivious he knew that it's because of his money. Similar to Jimin, Seokjin changed when he entered high school. While he always was a pretty intelligent and well behaved student (still very arrogant though) he then became less concerned with studies and once made a teacher cry (that was before he met Y/n). He loves standing out as an individual, that includes making anyone change who crosses his path with the same outfit (not in school as they wear a school uniform. But outside, yes, he has that much power. Everyone knows Kim Seokjin).

As said before, Seokjin is far from stupid. He is a very intelligent individual but doesn't show the extent of his nolage. Instead aiming for a cool "Queen B" persona. He is witty with his comebacks (something I cannot write because I do not possess that superpower), he's quick with his words. He holds respect for people who are 60+ years old as he believes they've been through a lot in life already. These people have wisdom he could only gain by experience and that he respects (there is one very sweet lady that lives alone in a very big mansion a few streets away from his penthouse. He always visits her because he loves her genuine kindness. When he met Y/n she recently passed away and he saw a part of her in them).

Seokjin could qualify for a Ravenclaw.

Taehyung was raised by a very Christian family that he still cherishes very much. Because of their intense belief he was raised to worship. He never fell in love, so when Y/n crossed paths with his, he started showing love how he's used to it (Out of all the boys Taehyung is straight up insane. Something in his brain might be wired wrong, there is no explanation on why he likes them, on why he believed that's what love is because his parents treated him with normal, familiar love. So he is simply sick, there is no "saving" him. He's better of in a mental hospital). But he was always a very kind boy. Giving instead of taking, never wanting anything in return. Out of everyone, Taehyung was the one who welcomed new students and made tons of friends. But he grew out of it as his focus turned to art. He aimed to make his parents proud so he didn't have time for friends.

His loyalty is unlike any other. You could torture him half dead and he'd still forgive you, stay loyal to you, serve you. He is Y/n's servant. He works hard on improving his artistic abilities and also to maintain fairly good grades. For Y/n any labour he'd have to be put through would seem like a blessing. Another trait for Hufflepuff would be fairness and he surely is fair. As one of the least jealous members of the club he really only cares if Y/n's okay with what's happening or could get hurt (he always kets the other members have more privileges than he has because he believes it'd be not only greedy but prideful to want Y/n to hinself. He avoids any sin when it comes to Y/n, envy, wrath, pride, sloth, nothing will ever come near his modern day Jesus).

Taehyung definitely is a Hufflepuff.

If the boy who works two parttime jobs, to pay for rent, bills and food, cleans the shabby apartment by himself because his alcoholic mother is busy messing it up again, yet still treats his mother with kindness, only to be treated like trash by seven more powerful and successful guys in his school who all like the same person he does and still manages to maintain the position as intern and honour roll student at a prestigious school for roch people, isn't in Hufflepuff then I don't know what. This poor soul is incredibly sensitive and kind. He isn't judgemental (as he himself is used to people judging him). All round very sweet.

I think it's very clear that he's very diligent and hard working. He holds great passion for music and enjoys writing poetry, a very sensitive soul. Yoongi isn't someone to complain about something being unfair (cough cough Jimin cough cough) or try and steal Y/n away from them. His day dreams consist of imagining Y/n liking him back, but he is certain that would never happen (according to you guys, it seems a lot of you would pick Yoongi if you'd get to decide). Not only is Yoongi kind but loyal as well, he'd never imagine leaving anyone behind even his useless mother.

Yoongi is 1000% a Hufflepuff.

Jeongguk tends to be hot tempered, he goes from zero to a hundred in a matter of seconds. Everything in life seems like a challenge to prove he's better than others think (his father was a notorious serial killer who killed twenty one people yet got away with a ten year prison sentence and got released after six, ten months later Jeongguk was born). In truth he did not care for anyone else, only Y/n. So all tge chivalry he could muster was directed at them.

He is one brave guy who doesn't get easily scared (I guess living with as well as being a serial killer at sixteen years old desensitised him). Jeongguk is courageous just not in/for a positive way/purpose. He deluted himself into thinking that Y/n needs protection, HIS protection. He once attacked a teacher because they were helping Y/n with a question, that's very daring (more like stupid) just not in a good way. A (still not) more positive example of his daringness is when he wants to impress Y/n. He hung from a skyscraper for five minutes doing pullups, just to inpress them. One time he also jumped across his luxurious pool at home (and almost slipped, almost bashing his head in) just to prove that he can jump further than someone they talked about.

I could very much picture him as a Griffendor.

If you enjoyed reading my work, please consider reblogging it. Thank you for reading

[siverwrites]

Trick or Treat Letter 2021

AO3: Siver

Thank you for taking this on! Here there are some general prompt details if you want them and if you already have some idea of your own, awesome. I can’t wait to see what you come up with.

Note sometimes I have some specific prompts for some characters while other don’t. This has nothing to do with priority or preferences. They’re just ones I happened to some specific thoughts for. Of course they’re only ideas and you’re free to ignore them!

All requests are for fic or art.

Art: Interactions of some sort: emoting at each other, talking, sharing some activity, taking a walk, hugs are always welcome, soft things, whatever suits the pair/group. I’d much prefer the character(s) doing something over just standing around looking cool.

Likes: fluff, hurt/comfort, found family, sickfic, fandom crossovers or fusions between requested fandoms, angst with a happy or at least bittersweet end, bonding, cuddling/hugs/holding, banter, mutual care and support, loyalty, pre-canon, post-canon, missing scenes, slice of life, supernatural stuff, mystery, adventure, world-building, creepy or unsettling atmospheres

DNW: NSFW, non-con, dub-con, underage relationships, unrequested ships, infidelity, explicit gore, modern AUs (college, high school, coffee shop etc), non-canonical permanent character death

Any combination of character tags within each fandom is cool. I have specfic pairs and groups listed at points but those are only for ideas. Heck, any crossover/fusion between any of these fandoms is welcome too, go nuts.

For treats: you can’t go wrong with fluff! Friendship, familial bonds, found family, romance for the few ship possibilities listed here.

For tricks: I like it atmospheric. Unsettling atmospheres. Unresolved mystery. Making use of the stranger environments canon may already provide. The surreal. The strange. The supernatural. Much prefer a subtler creepy factor over ‘jump scares’ and gore.

Ghost Trick

Alma

Cabanela

Jowd

Sissel

Kamila

Lynne

Missile

Pigeon Man

Lovey-Dove

Mino

DNW: NSFW, non-con, dub-con, underage relationships, unrequested ships, infidelity, explicit gore, modern AUs (college, high school, coffee shop etc), non-canonical permanent character death

Ships I’m good with: Alma/Jowd/Cabanela, Alma/Jowd, Cabanela/Jowd (where the focus is there but without infidelity to Alma), Alma/Cabanela (again no infidelity just where the focus is)

I love this game, its characters and pretty much everything about it, so whatever you want to do will be great I’m sure. New timeline mysteries and missing memories are always welcome where it makes sense. Alternate timelines and what-ifs are cool to explore. Fluff, comfort, family found or otherwise and friendships are always a go. Spooky ghost shenanigans, mysteries in the night.

Any combination of these characters is more than welcome too!

Any combination of Jowd/Cabanela/Alma or Jowd & Cabanela & Alma is always welcome.

Always down for various combinations of Pigeon Man with Cabanela, Jowd and/or Kamila. Or PM with someone less expected like Alma! Or Sissel! Or Missile! The Jowd family expands and you cannot escape. In other words found family with Lynne or with Pigeon Man (or both of course).

Animal shenanigans on their own or with each other and fluff is great.

Sissel settling into the Jowd household and the shenanigans that ensue from having a ghost-powered cat.

Mino: What is Mino? Who is Mino? This is trick or treat, go weird, have fun.

Alma: We just need more of our girl honestly. Sweet relationship or family stuff. Go supernatural and consider Alma ghost either during game or temporarily post-game before being rescued by Sissel (Maybe helping Sissel save herself in that situation?)

--

Final Fantasy VI

Celes

Sabin

Chocobos

Valigarmanda

Mog

Phantom Train

Gogo

Relm

Interceptor

DNW: NSFW, non-con, dub-con, underage relationships, unrequested ships, infidelity, explicit gore beyond canon typical, modern AUs (college, high school, coffee shop etc), Gogo as Daryl, non-canonical permanent character death

Valigarmanda: I just want to know more about them (she? he? your pronoun of choice). What led to them frozen in Narshe? Do they still hold some form of awareness in that state? Do the moogles look after at all? Some form of communication between them? How did they feel joining the party as magicite? What exactly took place between them and Terra? So many possibilities or something else entirely.

Mog: I just like moogles okay. Throw him at anyone here in the above list and see what happens. Or a moogle adventure in Narshe or elsewhere. Sky's the limit, dance's the limit?

Chocobos: I just like chocobos okay. Throw one or more at anyone here in the above list and see what happens. If you want something more specific I will never have enough serpent trench travel with Sabin and Celes in the World of Ruin. Give them chocobos and off they go. Figaro chocobos are also good. Chocobo anything.

Phantom Train: I have no particular thoughts here but what better exchange than Trick or Treat for the Phantom Train itself? Exploring more about it whether it's just it or throw characters at it. All cool.

Celes and Sabin: as stated I'm an absolute sucker for world of ruin travel with these two and anything more is good. That said if you want to focus on just one of them or one of them with someone else that's great too. I've only lumped them together for sake of convenience. Sabin in Figaro? Sabin with another here? Celes travels in the saved world?

Interceptor: Does he interact much with any of the rest of the party? Or... dog and chocobo... Or just you know can't go wrong with Interceptor and Relm things ever

Relm: Any interaction with anyone here. Leaning on her Sketch ability would be cool. Mimic paint off with Gogo?

Gogo: Gogo's just neat. More of them good.

--

Carto

Carto

Carto's Puppy

Granny Maldpo

Shianan

Shianan's Puppy

Storytender

DNW: NSFW, non-con, dub-con, underage relationships, unrequested ships, infidelity, explicit gore, modern AUs (college, high school, coffee shop etc), non-canonical permanent character death

I just want to see a little more of these characters and this world. The game was so cute and neat. More travel or stories or some sort of cute moment with Carto and Maldpo, and puppy if post-game, on their airship! Granny Maldpo is so cool! Explorer pilot grandma hell yeah! A little adventure for her? More exploration of Shianan (and her puppy!)? A reunion with Carto again?

The story chalet was also just really neat so doing more with it and the Storytender is absolutely welcome. What does an average day for him look like in an ever-changeable library with books writing themselves?

--

The Last Guardian

The Boy

Trico

DNW: NSFW, non-con, dub-con, underage relationships, unrequested ships, infidelity, explicit gore, modern AUs (college, high school, coffee shop etc), non-canonical permanent character death

Give me all the cat-dog-bird fluff/shenanigans/playfulness/warmth/coziness. Anything while they’re together. Barrel feeding, snuggle time, riding, flying. Sweet or silly (Trico has his moments for sure) or something else. I adore Trico. I adore the boy and Trico’s companionship.

Alternatively something in the future. The boy grown up reuniting with Trico. A flight with Trico. A temporary willing return to the nest. Meeting Trico babies!

--

Metroid

Samus

Chozo

Baby Metroid

DNW: NSFW, non-con, dub-con, underage relationships, unrequested ships, infidelity, explicit gore beyond canon typical, modern AUs (college, high school, coffee shop etc), reliance on manga knowledge, spoilers for Metroid Dread, non-canonical permanent character death

While I don't have anything particular in mind here, I'm all about the mood for Metroid and would appreciate really leaning on the atmosphere and environmental aspects--either more lush areas (eg Brinstar, Tallon IV landing area) but still isolating, or the darker more tense places. I'm particularly fond of Super Metroid and Metriod Prime.

Any singular focus on one of the above three or some combo is good.

Regarding the manga: I know next to nothing about it, so light referencing without needed knowledge is fine; anything deeper than that please avoid?

--

Monkey Island

Guybrush Threepwood

Elaine Marley

Murray

El Pollo Diablo

Feral Chickens

DNW: NSFW, non-con, dub-con, underage relationships, unrequested ships, infidelity, explicit gore, modern AUs (college, high school, coffee shop etc), Escape from Monkey Island, angst, non-canonical permanent character death

Silly pirate-y shenanigans. Guybrush and Elaine team-up on something actually in one place? Any interactions with Murray are always a treat and we’ve never gotten to see those with Elaine in the mix.

Explore the legend of El Pollo Diablo in some way. What do the chickens get up to now they roam free across Puerto Pollo? What oh-so-nefarious schemes is Murray up to now? A feral chicken demonic skull team-up?? I mean, that’s kinda close to El Pollo Diablo right???

This is coming off as Curse of Monkey Island-centric (it is my favourite) but it doesn’t have to be. It’s just because of the chickens… and Murray. But mainly chickens. Anytime from the previous games, or future or off to the side is good too.

--

Bug Fables

Kabbu

Leif

Vi

Chompy

Elizant II

DNW: NSFW, non-con, dub-con, underage relationships, unrequested ships, infidelity, explicit gore, modern AUs (college, high school, coffee shop etc), non-canonical permanent character death

I love the group dynamics! Party fun times while they’re travelling would be good. Really interested in more with Leif’s situation because that is a Lot and open to more introspection and dealing–Kabbu support go? Attempted Vi support go? Chompy being the best plant she can be? Snuggle that plant during hard times?

Exploring that lab more and cordyceps is welcome for the creepier end of things. Same with the Giant’s Lair and what IS that giant eye?

There’s also an interesting connection between Elizant II and Leif I’d be interested in seeing more. Leif’s out of his time but holds memories of Elizant I. Elizant II is a more direct connection he’s otherwise lacking and it’s nice to see how his opinion of her shifts and grows as she grows.

--

The Legend of Heroes

DNW: NSFW, non-con, dub-con, underage relationships, unrequested ships, infidelity, explicit gore, modern AUs (college, high school, coffee shop etc), spoilers for Hajimari or Kuro, Agate/Tita, Olivier/Schera, non-canonical permanent character death

Trails in the Sky

Estelle Bright

Cassius Bright

Lena Bright

Kloe Rinz

Alicia von Auslese

Celeste D. Auslese

Olivier Lenheim

Mueller Vander

Ragnard

Any combination of any of these characters could lead to interesting things. Some combo ideas:

In Phantasma, Kloe and Celeste talk... Estelle, Olivier or Mueller could be interesting too though... Or simply more about Celeste and the Hermit's Garden by herself.

Bright family time will always be welcome. And more love for Lena. Kloe and Estelle sister/best friend time.

Kloe and Olivier have a lot of potential for interesting interaction in how they parallel each other but are so wildly different at the same time. Kloe and Alicia family time!

Olivier & Cassius: I’m just really interested to see more interaction between these two whether while they’re still planning or something before Olivier goes back to Erebonia after Sky SC. Cassius can’t help himself when it comes to giving advice…

Olivier & Alicia: Royalty matters, knowing who Olivier actually is. Last meetings before he goes back to Erebonia?

Olivier&/Mueller stuff is all good

Ragnard: cool dragon is cool. Either something about him individually in the past? Or what he's up to now? A look at interaction between him and Cassius? Ragnard and Auslese (any of them)...?

Crossbell

Lloyd Bannings

Randy Orlando

Tio Plato

Elie MacDowell

KeA Bannings

Alex Dudley

Zeit

Sergei Lou

No ships here please.

Bonding and found family is the name of the game here! Tio and Zeit spending time together. Lloyd and Randy having bro time or Lloyd trying to remind Randy that he does indeed belong with SSS. KeA and “Uncle” Sergei time! What might they do together, or what does KeA get Sergei to do with her? Lloyd and KeA spending time together, Lloyd spoiling KeA, KeA being a comfort to Lloyd. KeA turning on the charm on Dudley. Dudley and Sergei interaction. Any combination of any of the SSS related characters is great if you want a bigger SSS gathering. I love them all.

Anything exploring KeA's powers is very cool too.

Trails of Cold Steel

Alfin Reise Arnor

Priscilla Reise Arnor

Olivier Leheim | Olivert Reise Arnor

Mueller Vander

Valimar

Mint

Alfin, Olivier, Priscilla: The Arnors have it rough dammit. Some soft moment for any combo of these three? Reunions after Olivier comes back and isn’t dead? We were deprived! Entertaining sibling times. A Priscilla bonding moment with Olivier when he was still getting used to living in the palace. And of course individually they’re interesting in their own roles and I’m always down for more.

Mueller: Of course anything with Olivier is good in my books. I’m running under the assumption that since he shows up with Olivier in the triumphant not-dead return, that he wound up at Valleria while Olivier recovered and I would be very soft for any moment taking placing during that time period. But when it comes to those two sky’s the limit. I’m good with platonic or ship. Mueller having some interaction with either Priscilla or Alfin would be great too!

Valimar: Given his history and knowledge it’d be interesting to see a conversation with Olivier or Alfin given also their family name Cedric’s positioning and, well, all the history there. Alternatively I love his interactions with Mint and how respectful of her he is, so anything between those two yes please. Or just something exploring him by himself in some way would be cool too.

Mint: I’m particularly interested in her during CS III and IV times and with Valimar as above. However, any Mint shenanigans is a fun time. She’s doing her best!

[jbbarnesnnoble]

Tough

Summary: With Sam called away on an extraction mission, Bucky fills in for him at the library with you, leading to a moment of bonding with one of the young patrons. 

Features: Fluffy goodness; Bucky feeling insecure; Reader and Sam conspiring

Prompt: Face painting 

Pairing: Sam Wilson/Bucky Barnes/Reader

Notes: Day 8 of the OTP challenge! Like I said yesterday, the fics all play off one another, so going out of order is a no no for me

Word Count: 1357

Thursdays were one of your favorite days. You’d go off compound to the local library and host an activity with the kids. Walking into the library with Bucky, you took a deep breath. The smell of old books hit you immediately. It was one of your favorite smells. It reminded you of childhood. 

As you entered, Maeve waved to you, her greying hair pulled up in a tight bun with strands framing her face. 

“Hello dear, everything is all ready for you,” she said with a smile. You were excited. Today’s activities included creating their own autumn trees with construction paper and some seasonal face painting. Bucky had accompanied you this week. Sam had been called away early that morning to assist on an extraction on a mission that had gone south. The agents weren’t in mortal peril, but they’d have an embarrassing story coming back. Sam had gone with Steve to retrieve the agents. 

Usually, it was Sam who came with you to the library. It was a favorite thing of his to do, a break from all of the things that demanded his attention in the day to day. Bucky opted to stay behind, spending time with Alpine or doing yard work. But today, he had surprised you in asking if he could go in place of Sam. 

“You good, Buck?” you asked, glancing at him. He wore his jacket and kept a glove on his metal hand. He was fidgeting slightly. 

“I’m fine doll,” he said. 

“Do you want to do the activity with them or do you want to read to them?” you asked him. He paused for a moment. 

“I’d like to read,” he said, coming to a decision. You nodded at him. He helped you set up the crafts table as the children started to arrive. You saw the looks from some of the parents, but a well placed glare from you had them keeping their mouths shut. You introduced Bucky to the kids and took a seat to watch and listen to him tell a story about the autumn leaves. 

You noticed one little girl whose attention was firmly on Bucky’s left arm. Though it was covered, she had an intense stare before glancing back at her own arm. You had an inkling of an idea of what was up. Katie had started coming to the library on Thursdays three months prior, not long after she was given an all clear from her doctors. She had lost her arm in an accident and had recently gotten a prosthetic. You knew from talking to her mother that she was still struggling some days. 

When storytime ended, you and Bucky herded the children over to the tables where glue sticks were set out with construction paper and some pre-cut trees. You could see Bucky shifting in his jacket and fiddling with his glove. The library had the heat cranked up that day, to counter the chill that had set in outside. 

“You know you can take off the jacket,” you murmured. He looked at you and shook his head.

“It’ll scare them,” he argued. You looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Buck. They’re six year olds. They’ll think it’s the coolest thing they’ve ever seen,” you replied. He gave you a look that said it all. He was uncertain, anxious, and above all uncomfortable. You backed off of the idea, squeezing his right hand before going to help one of the children. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Katie make the decision to approach him. 

“Mr. Bucky, can you help me?” the girl asked. Bucky seemed startled that any of them would ask him for help, but he nodded. She sat down beside him and he would hand her what she asked for, helping her cut out new shapes of leaves for her tree. She had chosen to go with some non-traditional autumn colors, something that put a smile on Bucky’s face. 

“Mr. Bucky, why do you wear a glove on your hand? We’re inside, silly,” Katie said suddenly. Bucky froze. How did he make this child friendly? He cast a look your way but you were preoccupied at the moment with helping a younger child with the glue. He took a deep breath. He could do this. 

“I have a prosthetic arm and don’t want to scare anyone,” he said once he settled on it. Katie’s eyes lit up. She knew it! Her older brother loved the Avengers and had told her there was one who lost an arm like her. 

“That’s so cool! I do too! Wanna see?” she asked. Bucky had no time to respond before the girl was unzipping the hooded sweatshirt she wore and pulled it off to show the t-shirt beneath it. Bucky glanced at the arm. It wasn’t like his, no, but it was clearly advanced, likely one of Stark’s new line. 

“Can I see yours?” she asked. He heard a gasp from who he assumed was Katie’s mother.

“Katherine Winifred,” the woman scolded. Bucky’s heart twinged at her middle name. His mother’s name was still one of those things that made him long for a time long since passed. 

“It’s alright ma’am,” Bucky replied. He slowly took the glove and his jacket off, revealing his metal arm. Katie looked at it in awe. 

“Wow,” she said. After that, Katie refused to leave his side, even for the face painting. Between the two of you, you were the one more skilled in the art of face painting than Bucky, but Katie insisted. 

“I want a spider,” she said.

“A spider?” Bucky asked.

“A Black Widow. Like the Avenger! I wanna be like her when I grow up!” Katie exclaimed. Bucky chuckled. He made a note to tell Natasha about that later, about her little fan, as he set about painting the spider.

When all was said and done,the children all left with smiles upon their faces. You and Bucky on the other hand were left with cleanup. You hadn’t gotten a good look at him since you had broke for activities and you could barely contain your giggles when you did. 

There, on Bucky’s cheek, was what looked to be an attempt at a spider. You couldn’t help the few giggles that escaped.

“What? I think it makes me look tough, don’t you?” Bucky asked, a smile on his face.

“Oh yes. The toughest. The bad guys will quiver before you pleading for mercy when they see you roll up with that,” you teased. Bucky pulled you into a quick kiss, before continuing the cleanup.

While he was preoccupied, you slid your phone out of your pocket, taking a few more discreet photos before sending them to Sam.

You: Operation Smiles was a success. He even felt comfortable enough to take off the jacket. 

Sam: I told you he’d be fine. He just needed the opportunity to present itself.

You: When are you due back? 

Sam: Don’t want to talk about it. Steve insisted he could handle this alone but...the rookies really did a number...their commanding officer is wasted. We should be back by mid-morning. Love you

You: Love you too

Across the room, Bucky took his own phone out, glancing at the lock screen before opening it. It was a photo of you, him, and Sam that Wanda had taken and sent to him. The three of you, asleep on that front porch swing toward the end of summer. Bucky opened up the text app and found Sam’s name.

Bucky: Today went well. Thanks for suggesting it to me. Maybe next week I’ll go with you both?

Sam: Sounds like a plan to me. You can come with us anytime

Bucky: I’ll hold you to it

Bucky: I love you

Sam: I love you too. 

Sam: Should be back by mid-morning tomorrow. I expect cuddles. This is a mess and I’m done 

Bucky: We’ll see about the cuddles. Our girl has big plans for tomorrow

Sam: Should I be scared?

Sam: Bucky?

Sam: I’m going to assume the answer to that is a yes. Goodnight, I love you