#if this is ur approach to someone clearly in pain and trying their best to be a good person idk if I feel safe around you

[daenysx]

hello can i ask for another aemond hurt comfort fic (if ure still writing for him, if not thank u anyway <3) make it hurt pls thank you 😞

p.s: i absolutely sobbed reading that drabble of him getting snappy at reader bcs they wanted to go out while it's sunny + also why i went back on ur blog and coincidentally saw ur requests open lol

i don't think i'll ever stop writing for aemond, i love him too much ♡ thank you for your request, lovely, i hope you like this!

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader, hurt/comfort

aemond isn't used to have someone taking care of him, not when he's like this.

his mother was doing the best she can when he was younger; holding his hand when he had an appointment with his doctor, sleeping next to him and rubbing his back when he couldn't get any rest, kissing his forehead and telling him how brave he's been. as he grew older he stopped asking for help, she had to have her own life. he did anything he can to convince her that he's fully capable of taking care of himself now. "thank you, mom, i'm fine."

alicent put her children before her every time, sacrificing her youth just to make sure they are well. aemond felt guilty when he realized how little his mother cares about her own life, only to take care of her half blind son. it pains him, still, but he's a grown man now. he'll be okay when she's out of town with her newly wedded husband.

he lies in bed for hours, waits for the pain in his eye disappear. the room is dark, it's silent in a disturbing way. aemond curses under his breath when a sudden pain flashes in his head, he might prefer dying over this.

no, he can't cry. it'll only make the pain worse. does he deserve to live his young days like that? laying in bed like a sick man, waiting for help but being too prideful to ask for it, spending hours only to be able to breathe without suffering. he's mad these days, always angry and tense. vengeful for something that happened years ago, tearing up for his wound that will never be okay.

the door creaks open slowly. you close it back to let the darkness stay still. quiet steps, almost hesitant as if he'll tell you to leave. you put on a brave face as you approach him with a cool glass of water in your hand.

"aemond?" you whisper. you can't see his face clearly, he doesn't react as you put the glass on his nightstand.

"i'm okay." he says. dishonesty drips down his voice.

"can i help you?" you whisper again. it's the first time in your new relationship that he's been so bad. you don't know what to do.

"i'm used to it." he replies. "you can leave if you have somewhere else to be, i don't think i can leave the bed for the rest of the day."

your heart breaks. does he think you'll leave him like this? he might prefer suffering silently but you won't let him. he seems like he doesn't even get the point of having a relationship. he treats you like you aren't his girlfriend, like you are just another person in the room. it makes you wanna curl up in bed and cry, you know you don't deserve this.

he's still in pain so you can't be mad at him. it'll only make things worse. "i can leave- if you want to be alone. i'd rather stay with you, though."

you can't see his face but you can feel he tries to decide. you like aemond too much and you think he likes you too. you know he does. it definitely has to do something with his past. you try to take a silent breath, completely still to not disturb him.

aemond doesn't even know what to say, he'd kill to have someone by his side. to have you. he selfishly wants to keep you even when he feels like he shouldn't. you deserve someone better. you deserve a man who doesn't have to stay in complete darkness because of his past. you are shining everywhere you go but aemond is dark, there's no spark in him. he likes you too much to let you go, his inner turmoil does him nothing good.

"stay with me." he says finally. "please."

"can i sit?"

"mm-hmm."

you sit on bed carefully. you treat him like he's someone delicate, like he deserves something good. aemond isn't sure how to deal with your kindness, he still hasn't found a way. he likes it too much, though. he likes everything about you.

you hold his hand gently. his fingers are cold, you rub his knuckles with a soft thumb. he lets out a breath he doesn't know he's been holding when you press on a tight spot, right where his thumb meets his pointer finger. it feels nice. you keep rubbing his hand until you hear a protest.

"s nice." he says quietly.

"my mom used to do this when i got headaches. i know yours is different but-"

"s really nice." he says again. "thank you."

you take his other hand, treating with same kindness. he holds a lot of tension in his body, he doesn't even know how much. a massage to his hands is a small thing to help him relax but you want him to know you're with him.

"do you want to put your head on my leg?" you ask. "maybe i can rub your temples a bit."

you are not afraid of his rejection, willing to do anything that might help him. to your surprise, he sits on bed, waits for you to get comfier. you place yourself properly, he puts his head on your leg just the way you want and you start massaging his head.

"i like your hair so much." you whisper. "so soft."

"i like yours better." he replies, whispering. "but thank you."

you press your fingers to his temples slowly, he lets out another shaky breath. "i'm not gonna hurt you, i promise. you'll feel better in a minute."

he nods slightly, feeling of your warm fingers on his skin makes him somewhat excited. he is distracted with your quiet words and kind fingers, for a moment he forgets about the dull pain in his head.

you keep rubbing his temples until your fingers go numb. you stroke his hair then, silky platinum blonde strands flow in your hands. you play with his hair, braid a little piece of it. he truly is distracted at this point, too grateful to say something.

"i think i'll fall asleep." he can say.

"that's okay." you tell him. "i'll be here when you wake up."

somehow he knows you'll be here with him until the end. he can feel how his emotions for you fill his heart and his mind until they are both full of you, only you and no one else. it's a nice feeling, having someone by his side. being someone's choice, not responsibility.

[kayforpay]

oh man. would love to see ur take on Karkat arguing that Gamzee should even be allowed to _live_ on Earth C....

It was always awkward to have to ask someone to speak on your behalf. If not for Karkat's wary first approach, Gamzee simply wouldn't have asked at all; what he had done, even if it wasn't entirely under his control, wasn't something he would forgive.

He had liked Nepeta, appreciated Terezi, and tolerated Equius. He wouldn't forgive someone else, even if they didn't have foggy memories of monsters that sounded like his friends, that looked like eels moving under their skin, and the desperate need to eradicate them.

But Karkat was, like usual, better than he was.

Waking up in control of his body was a shock. He had spent days curled on his side, struggling to keep even liquids down and in more pain than he could recognize. How had he detoxed without feeling it? Every nerve in his body was burning for a wipe, and he didn't even try to contact anyone. The fact that he had come through the end of the game wasn't even on his mind until he realized that the hive he was in had windows that didn't have automated shades.

Before that, he had hoped that the entire ordeal was a dayterror.

Then, almost immediately after he was aware enough to realize what had happened, Karkat let himself in. Reddish tears streamed down his face as he collapsed next to Gamzee's pathetic pile, his voice hushed as he gripped Gamzee's horns almost painfully to force him to look up.

"You're alive. Thank the stupid fucking human god. You're alive." He had pressed his forehead to Gamzee's own, had cupped his cheeks, and shook with emotion. "I'm so glad. I was so worried, Gamzee. I was so scared, I thought you were-- I thought you didn't win with us."

Gamzee had put a hand on Karkat's cheek (no way he could have known how warm his skin was in real life, how different it would feel when his body was his own again, how soft) and finally let himself cry.

The next month, since the humans insisted on taking over calendars and the world was more human than troll, consisted of everyone getting their footing again. The ones who had reached god-tier were still there, but he didn't actually know if that counted him or not. He wasn't privy to what he did, in the long gaps when Aranea had smothered his consciousness under a sickening blue blanket. For all he knew, he was faking the entire time, just for her amusement.

After that, once everyone found each other again, since the game had seen fit to mix sessions and revive everyone for, presumably, some kind of fucked-up bonus prize, Gamzee was immediately on the outside. He didn't blame them. Nepeta and Terezi were terrified of him; Equius was disgusted with both Gamzee and himself, and seemed more ashamed than anything when their eyes would meet.

Karkat told him, clearly, that they would start over. That he needed to "get to know the real Gamzee", that they couldn't just step back in now that they weren't wrigglers. It made sense, and Gamzee did his best not to act like they were close (though it was hard, when Karkat would come over and end up in his lap to cuddle). Even so, Karkat tried to defend him.

"The problem wasn't Gamzee. The problem didn't-- He didn't fucking kill anyone until the mind control got to him. Before that, he wasn't hurting people." He said, standing up from the awkward meal they were sharing with Kanaya, her human wife, Vriska and Terezi. "If we're going to punish him for having been mind controlled, are we gonna punish Terezi? Or Vriska, for doing it?"

Gamzee looked at the plate in front of him and swallowed. It was silent, awkward, but Kanaya had brought up the fact that she couldn't blame anyone for being uncomfortable. "Kar, you don't gotta do this. It's okay." He tried to speak more softly than before, not just for privacy, but because he made people flinch when he was too loud.

"It isn't! It isn't fucking okay, Gamzee! I-- I know you! I knew you, and you wouldn't do that. You won't do it again." He turned his entire body, and tried to hold back more tears as he continued. "It isn't fair for just you to be punished. I fucked up too. We all fucked up. Kanaya has a fucking hole in her stomach, Sollux is blind... I don't know what to do about the Beforans."

He moved slowly, putting a hand on Karkat's shoulder. "I'll be okay, bro. I'm okay. I'm just so motherfuckin' happy I got to be in my body again at all." It was a lie, but he was better at lying than Karkat was, and he didn't think anyone noticed.

"I won't." Karkat said, glancing to the table and then back. "I won't be okay without you. I can't do it again. You're not allowed to go before me, so don't be fucking stupid and try it. I'm the mutant, I die first."

Carefully, Kanaya cleared her throat. "I... Don't want to interrupt. But I don't think anything can be decided immediately. Maybe some ground rules?" Her eyes settled on Rose, apparently looking for support.

"I think that would help." Rose said, much more cocksure than most of the humans Gamzee had seen. She seemed like she meant it. "As long as Gamzee can remain sober, and can meet with... Someone, maybe Vriska?" She met Vriska's eyes, and they both nodded. "To make sure that you do, and that Aranea isn't influencing you again, well... That's somewhere to start, isn't it?"

He nodded, and Terezi fake-coughed, loud enough to make Karkat jump. "I mean, I think that's fine. Like Karkat said, we all fucked up. It isn't like we can just let one weird fucking clown go around but not the other. And Gamzee isn't trying to sew anything shut." She cackled, but Gamzee remembered, though it was brief, how she sounded when sincere, and it seemed to match.

Nothing set in stone. Someone probing his mind all the time, but not controlling it, at least. And the chance to be alive, in control, again. That wasn't nothing. That was more than he let himself hope for.

[wof-reworked]

I don’t want to reblog the post in question because like. I generally like the people involved in it but there’s a post about Qibli going around rn that is making me legitimately kind of mad so let’s talk about Qibli and where Tui fucked up with him, but also where she didn’t

(this is going to get a little bit aggressive, I might end up deleting this because it is an impassioned rant of sorts, but it’s on my mind as more people talk about Qibli)

(please, keep in mind: I don’t think all of his behavior is healthy. This dragon needs some goddamn therapy. But I think the distinction between unhealthy vs destructive is important. I talk about this later)

SO.

The idea that Qibli is manipulative for having very clear self loathing and trauma is, quite frankly, disgusting?? Like did you forget that a really, really common trauma response is to latch onto people who are kind to you in your life??? The idea that Qibli only acts like he cares about Thorn, his fucking adoptive mother, to get her to pay attention to him is a wild stretch and such a butchering of their relationship I’m genuinely still trying to comprehend it. 

 Qibli thinks Thorn hung the moon because, honestly, when you’re deprived of kindness, having it freely given feels like magic. And Thorn is one of the few dragons in Qibli’s life that has given him any amount of genuine compassion. And we see this with Moon too, the fact she thinks of him as smart and kind himself is something new and kind of shocking for Qibli. This is only emphasized by the fact she’s seen into his thoughts and finds someone she loves there. He thinks of Moon as being way too good for him (and he doesn’t understand why she likes *him*, or if she does at all) and it shows. 

 Like I know the point they’re trying to get at with this analysis, but it’s such a strange reading of the text. Qibli comparing himself to Winter in his thoughts is not the same thing as him pressuring Moon to choose him, if you remember, Qibli still has a piece of skyfire, meaning his thoughts are blocked from Moon’s. He isn’t thinking these things in an active attempt to pressure Moon, these are just his thoughts! He isn’t trying to pressure Moon into being in a relationship with him, he is just a deeply self loathing character, and her response reflects that with how she replies “don’t overthink this. say yes” BECAUSE QIBLI HAS BEEN, IF ANYTHING ELSE, DELIBERATELY AVOIDING TRYING TO PUT HER IN A POSITION WHERE SHE IS HIS ONLY OPTION. LIKE THIS WHOLE BOOK IS HIM GOING “I don’t want to pressure Moon into a relationship, I love her but I want what’s best for her”. AND SHE WANTS TO MAKE SURE HE KNOWS SHE’S SINCERE AND WANTS THIS TOO. 

And related to this: Him thinking about Winter is not about trying to garner sympathy from Moon or make himself the one who needs her attention, it’s based off genuinely feeling Winter brings more to the table and would be better for her. I’ll say it again: Qibli is a deeply insecure dragon who doubts his own skills constantly, that’s the root of him comparing himself to Winter. 

SO: EVERYTHING I’VE DESCRIBE IS UNHEALTHY. LIKE THIS IS NOT A HEALTHY WAY TO LIVE. BUT IT’S NOT MANIPULATIVE. I think what I would call Qibli is, more than anything, codependent. His relationships with Moon and Thorn involve idolizing them to an unhealthy degree and placing them on a pedestal where everything they do is right. I would’ve loved to see this get actually explored in canon. 

Now. I do want to point out Qibli’s book is not actually very good lol. Qibli is also never wrong, which is boring and bad storytelling. He solves everything put in front of him and always comes out perfectly fine and forgiving. I would’ve loved to see him as a more complex character, and honestly a better written character here’s how BPD qibli can still win- *I am dragged off-stage by a comically long hook*

And it’s worth mentioning: Part of Qibli being written without meaningful flaws is that this is presented as his genuine thoughts and feelings and reality. Qibli is not an unreliable narrator like Darkstalker or Peril. So the idea he’s “acting” or otherwise pretending to have these feelings is a really bad read. 

Not to get personal, but Qibli as a character matters to me a lot. As someone who struggles with a lot of the same inner monologue to the point of being brought to tears when I read this book the first time, this book and the message mean a lot to me. The idea that that inner monologue is indicative of being manipulative is the kind of rhetoric that lead to me feeling like I was manipulating people into caring about me when I shared my problems. That idea has actively sabotaged relationships in my life, and I cannot stress how much I hate it. That the only way to be mentally ill is to suffer in silence away from the world because sharing your feelings with loved ones is forcing them to care about you. 

I understand being annoyed by Qibli’s narration. I like a lot of Qibli critical analysis. Do not take this as me mindlessly defending this character. But I do not like the rhetoric I’m seeing passed around AT ALL. 

so y’know. If you can have compassion for Winter, you can have compassion for Qibli. 

[dyk3medown]

hii, if ur comfortable with it, could you write a fic of eddie x fem!reader with any plot but to include

- sadism & masochism

- pain kink

- degradation & praise

- exhibitionism

so sorry if this is a burden to you i just rlly love ur work lol ❤️

danger zone

eddie munson x reader

summary: eddie’s knife against your throat should scare you, but your reaction couldn't be further from fear

warnings: fem reader, smut, slightly dark!eddie, dom/sub dynamics, some degradation + praise, knife play, choking, very bad bdsm etiquette, sort of autassassinophilia but to a very minor extent

a/n: this has been almost finished in my drafts for months, I'm so sorry it took so fucking long lol. unfortunately i didn't fit the exhibitionism in but i hope you enjoy anyways!!

smut under the cut <3

Eddie Munson is not a murderer.

Your mind races as you sit in Steve's car on the way to Reefer Rick's house, Eddie's supposed hideout.

He can't be… right?

You and Eddie knew each other reasonably well, though to call you friends would be a bit of a stretch. Your interactions were mostly composed of short conversations and a quick smile here and there when you passed by in the halls.

You found yourself oddly fascinated with him, and it didn't help that he made you weak in the knees every time you saw him, embarrassingly attracted to every little detail. The first time he had given you a tour of his tattoos, you had almost passed out, the sight of him pulling up his shirt enough to make you light-headed.

Contrary to his reputation, he was really a sweet guy, and you couldn't imagine him hurting someone, let alone killing them.

The car pulls up to a rather run-down house next to the lake, and you take a deep breath before climbing out of the vehicle, following your friends as they search for Eddie.

"Eddie! It's Dustin!" Dustin calls out as you enter a boathouse that's clearly seen better days. "Look, we just wanna talk, okay? No cops, I swear. We just wanna help."

You look around, but much like the main house you checked first, it seems empty. "I guess he's not here, guys."

You hear a slight sound of movement, and then Eddie has you up against the wall before you can even think about reacting, the jagged edge of a broken bottle pressing against your throat as his leg slots between yours. He pins your arms above your head, both wrists held in the hand not holding the makeshift weapon.

You gasp, a noise that's only partially from surprise and sounds more like a moan. With their view of you blocked by his body, your friends are unable to see how you arch unconsciously toward Eddie, pressing forward against him.

As soon as you realize what you're doing, you slam back against the wall, praying that Eddie somehow missed what happened.

Something flickers in Eddie's gaze as you lock eyes, a look of lust that's gone so quickly you're not sure if you imagined it.

You're distantly aware of your friends shouting for Eddie to stop, but the only sounds you can focus on are his ragged breathing and your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.

Eddie's eyebrows raise almost imperceptibly as he moves even closer, the glass digging into your throat as his thigh presses between yours.

You whimper at the feeling, desperately hoping that the others think it's a sound of fear. Trying to keep your breathing shallow, you are keenly aware that with one wrong move, the bottle could draw blood.

Any doubts Eddie might have had about how you were feeling are pushed away as he takes in your reaction, a hint of a smirk on his lips.

"Steve, put down the oar."

Eddie's head turns to look at Dustin, who is trying his best to talk Eddie down, while Steve slowly lowers the oar he had approached you two with.

After a few long moments, Eddie pulls the bottle back, still aimed at your throat but no longer touching your skin. You're hyper-aware of Eddie's thigh still positioned between your legs, shifting slightly underneath you as he talks with the group. Much to your shame, you can feel yourself getting wet, growing increasingly paranoid that Eddie will somehow be able to tell. You inhale sharply as he pushes against you at just the right angle, your hips bucking involuntarily.

You know you shouldn't be so turned on by a threat to your life, but your body seems unaware of that.

Eddie's attention snaps back to you, giving you a knowing look before dropping your wrists and stepping back. You just barely manage not to collapse when he moves away, your knees buckling as Robin rushes up to you. You lean on her for support, your heart still racing as you find somewhere to sit.

You zone out for most of the conversation, listening to Eddie's account of the night of Chrissy's death and then bits and pieces of the explanation of the upside down. You can't help but stare at Eddie, glancing back at him almost immediately every time you force yourself to look elsewhere. Eddie can't seem to keep his eyes off you either, gaze wandering over to you every so often.

You're fully aware of how fucked up it is that your focus is on him during a conversation about a girl's death, but you can't help the less-than-innocent thoughts that keep rising to the surface.

Eventually, after some more conversation, the others agree to go on a supply run, but Dustin insists that someone stay with Eddie just in case.

"I can stay!" You volunteer, internally cringing at how enthusiastic you sound.

"Are you sure? He was a little stabby with you," Robin mimes stabbing someone with a knife.

"It's fine," you assure her, looking over at Eddie.

"I'll be on my best behavior, scout's honor." Eddie holds up three fingers, a wry grin on his face.

"Yeah, alright, fine." Steve rolls his eyes and turns to leave, the rest of the group following behind him.

As you hear the car driving away, you're able to stop pretending like you're focusing on anything but Eddie.

"So uh," you stammer nervously as you stand, trying to think of something to say.

"So uh," Eddie mimics mockingly. "What was all that?"

Your eyes widen. "What do you mean?"

"Don't think I didn't notice the way you were acting earlier." Eddie says, a smirk growing on his face.

You feign nonchalance, pretending to examine your nails. "I don't know what you're taking about."

"Don't play dumb, princess," Eddie's voice lowers, taking on a dark tone that makes you shiver. "Did it turn you on when I pinned you up against the wall? Huh? Did I make you wet when I held that bottle to your pretty little throat?"

Your heart jumps in your throat at his words, and you can't deny the way they're affecting you, a wave of heat going through your body.

"Stop it." Your voice wavers as he stalks towards you. You stumble backward, finding yourself once again with your back against the dark wood of the boathouse.

"Why so shy?" The smirk on Eddie's face turns into a feral grin. "You were so eager before, fucking rutting against my thigh in front of all your friends."

Your chest tightens with a mix of panic and excitement as he invades your space, only a few inches separating you now.

You turn your head to the side to avoid his piercing gaze, squeezing your eyes tightly shut.

"Look at me."

You keep your eyes closed, breath coming in short pants.

"I said, look at me." Eddie grabs your jaw and forces you to face him, your eyes flying open in surprise at the spark of pain that comes with his tight grip.

He takes his hand back and pulls something out of his pocket, flicking it open. He holds it up for you to see, and your breath hitches as a switchblade glints in the light, lips parting in a surprised little oh.

"I think you deserve better than some broken glass, baby," Eddie says as he lifts it to your neck, just barely brushing your skin.

"Eddie," you whimper, "please."

You're not sure if you're asking him to stop or keep going, but Eddie takes it as the latter.

"Don't worry, princess, I'll give you what you need."

Eddie tilts your chin up with the blade's tip, barely brushing his lips against yours.

Throwing all caution to the wind, you grip onto his shirt and pull him into a bruising kiss. He remains still for a moment, clearly surprised by your sudden movement, but quickly begins to kiss you back. There's little finesse in the way his lips move against yours, all technique forgotten in favor of the way he's devouring you.

You whimper as Eddie bites your lip hard enough to draw blood. He swipes his tongue over the wound and groans, grinding his hips forward against you. You can feel how hard he is in his jeans, clearly enjoying this just as much as you.

The knife travels down to the neckline of your shirt, and you gasp as Eddie slices it open, leaving it hanging loosely from your shoulders.

He takes advantage of the newly exposed skin, grabbing onto your chest roughly. Before you can protest, he cuts through your bra as well, stepping back enough to tug the remnants of your clothing down your arms.

Eddie's hands cup your breasts softly as he looks at you almost reverently, a brief moment of gentleness that's quickly gone as the hunger overtakes his gaze.

"God, who knew you'd have such pretty fucking tits?" Eddie tweaks a nipple harshly, chuckling when you cry out. "You like it when I'm rough with you, don't you?"

"Uh huh," you manage to get out, so overwhelmed by what's happening that you're struggling to speak.

One of Eddie's hands trails down to the waistband of your pants, unbuttoning them and unceremoniously shoving his way inside.

"Eddie!" Your back arches as he roughly plunges two fingers inside of you. It's too much all at once, and there's a sharp sting of pain with the pleasure despite how wet you've gotten.

"Fuck, you're dripping baby." Eddie's thumb rolls over your clit, and you spasm around his fingers. "You tried to act all innocent but I knew, god I knew you were just gagging for it."

You reach down and push your remaining clothing down your hips, leaving you completely naked. Hand now unrestricted, Eddie takes full advantage of the new range of motion, fingers thrusting deeper until you can feel the cool metal of his rings trying to push into you.

Eddie suddenly pulls away, leaving you gasping for air. "Get on the table."

You look to see a dusty old table sitting in the corner of the room. "I-"

Eddie cuts you off. "That wasn't a request, (Y/N)."

The look in his eyes leaves no room for protest, and you scramble over to the table. You feel like you should be embarrassed that you're letting him order you around so easily, but the only thing that goes through your mind with every command is yes. Eddie is close behind you and pushes you down the second you reach it, bending you in half over the dusty surface.

"Don't move."

You follow Eddie's instruction, keeping your arms and chest still against the table. You can hear the sound of him unbuckling his belt and a zipper being pulled down, your breath hitching in anticipation.

Eddie wrenches both of your arms behind your back and wraps the belt around your wrists, the soft, worn leather biting with how tightly he binds them. Your shoulders are already starting to ache from the position, and you struggle slightly, trying to get more comfortable. A harsh slap to your ass makes you freeze and cry out.

"I thought I told you not to move," He mocks. "You aren't very good at following instructions, are you, sweetheart?"

"Eddie, please," you whine as you fight to keep yourself still.

"Be a good girl for me," Eddie lines himself up and just barely presses the head of his cock into you, "and beg for it."

Desperation taking over, you have no trouble swallowing your pride and giving him what he wants. "Please, Eddie, please fuck me!"

You muffle a scream as Eddie slams into you in one harsh thrust, wasting no time in setting a brutal pace. With no real prep, the way he's stretching you out is borderline painful, but somehow that makes it even better. You can feel every inch of him so intensely as he fucks into you, splitting you open on his cock.

He grabs your bound wrists and uses them to pull you up, causing you to arch off of the table. The switchblade is in his hand again, and he brings it to rest gently against the base of your throat as he thrusts into you roughly.

"Stay just like that, princess, wouldn't want you to hurt yourself."

He presses the blade just a little harder into your skin, and you whimper as you clench around him, unable to control your reaction.

"God, you're fucking filthy," Eddie moans. "Getting off to me holding a knife to your throat."

You want to hate it, to mentally distance yourself from the depraved acts you're committing, but the ever-present danger of the situation is making you wetter than you've ever been before. Eddie is clearly just as into it as you are, a constant string of moans and curses coming from behind you.

He pulls out suddenly and lets you drop back onto the table as he takes a moment to free your hands, leaving you confused and wanting him back inside you immediately. "Eddie?"

You start to push yourself up with shaking arms, but before you can fully stand, Eddie manhandles you over onto your back, lining himself up again before pushing into you with the same force as before.

"Oh, fuck." You practically sob as he angles his hips up slightly to hit the perfect spot, a new wave of pleasure making you spasm around him.

Eddie leans down, and your eyes flutter shut as he kisses you sloppily, cracking open again when you feel his hand wrap around your throat.

"Eddie!" Your eyes roll back as he slowly increases the pressure, limiting your air supply and suppressing your voice.

"Knew you'd like that. You just want to be good for me, don't you, princess? You'll do whatever I want."

You don't even try to deny it, nodding your head the best you can with your neck restrained. Eddie groans as you put your hand on top of his, encouraging him to push down harder, hips stuttering for a moment before falling back into rhythm.

"So fucking perfect for me." With how tight his grip is, you're quickly growing light-headed, and you're sure there'll be bruises left as remnants of his touch when you're done. "Take it so well."

Eddie's free hand snakes down your body to rub at your clit as his hips snap into yours even harder. At this point, you're sure you'll be walking funny for days, remembering the savage way he took you every time you sit down.

The knot in your stomach tightens as you feel yourself getting close, eyes fluttering closed as the feelings threaten to completely overwhelm you.

"You gonna cum?" Eddie looks down at you, the ever-present hunger gleaming in his eyes. "C'mon baby, wanna feel you cum on my cock."

"Eddie!" His name is the only thing you can say as your back arches, vision going white for a moment as the most intense pleasure you've ever experienced wracks your body.

Eddie's thrusts turn frantic as he desperately chases his release, pounding into you with no consideration for your comfort. You can only lay there and take it, blissed-out and practically boneless as you come down from your high.

Hips stuttering, Eddie comes with a choked-out groan of your name, and you moan softly as he spills inside of you. Eddie leans down to kiss you softly, almost tenderly, a stark contrast to the rough treatment that already has you aching in the best way. He pulls away, and you suppress a whimper as he slips out of you, oversensitivity making you wince. He tucks himself back into his pants, and you suddenly feel very exposed, completely naked, while Eddie is now fully clothed. You sit up, crossing your arms over your chest and hunching over slightly.

"Here." Eddie strips off his shirt and hands it to you. 

"Thanks." You take it gratefully, slipping it over your head. 

Neither of you speaks for a moment, just looking at each other in the fading light streaming through the windows.

"Eddie, I-" You're cut off by the door creaking open, your head snapping towards the sound to watch in horror as your friends make their way in, momentarily unaware of the situation in front of them. 

Steve stops in his tracks as he looks around, gaze flickering from Eddie's shirtless body, to his shirt on your body, to your clothes strewn across the floor. 

"What the fuck?"

taglist:

@greengarsstuff @3ternalreal1ty @eichenhouseproperty @lizzieaurum @themonsterisapineapple @mayvinnie @nobody-stop-me @rues-deaddreams @matildavol6 @lov3ly-3m @ladybird2094 @sunnybunbrainrot @goth-cowgir1 @littletroublegirl444 @throatacid @eddieussy @m1vfs @jacktheotter @misaamaneswifey @netushanaidu @halbrooke @multi-fandomgirlie @livslifeonline @isabel2you @eddiemunsonbby @straycatarang @crawlingbackwardcrawlingforward @meaganjm @hopebaker @fckyou4ever @sambucky8 @annoyednblax @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark @rlvslouis @paola-carter @daisysliv @mrvelscaptains @nonamedauthor @Jenna-jd @plutoneu @ladybug0095 @sunshinevs3 @loversrockband @steddieslut @o1zysreads @chu1in @aurumbelis @molllybc @witchybarb @macimcnaron @Canaryidkkk @simpforevery1 @xelaaa-xo @ihyperfixatetoomuch @calllmeifugetlost @solarrexplosion @asbisexualasitgets @strawberrypuffy @Tottalynotdestiny @mayeddieandstevegf @cursedpixie @theonlyprimrose @asiahalwaysslays @girlwiththerubyslippers @alwayssnivellus @sapphisticxted @SmuttyStrangerFics @dessmxsworld @reggiessexdoll @h-ness1944 @doyoumindifislytherin-1 @multifandomlover10 @ironwhoore @metalchickwhogotthattracc @victoriacourone @muns-trosity

[saltydumplings]

*crawls in like Lauren in ur Header*

Part two to https://saltydumplings.tumblr.com/post/687534001038180352/snippet-19 S'IL TE PLAÎT

-❄️

Snippet #19.1

Part 1

Cw: drugging, implied past torture.

The night had been going well for the most part. The villain had broken into the museum and stolen exactly what they'd wanted - a small jewel with a lot of worth in the underground market. But, of course, it couldn't be that easy, and the villain had admittedly expected to have a heroic encounter of some sorts...They just didn't think that they'd come across them.

What were the chances that the superhero was the one out patrolling tonight?

It was some bad luck, that was for sure, though the villain guessed they really couldn't complain too much considering their recent streak of success. Indeed, completing their schemes for the past few months had been easy. Really easy. With the hero's sudden disappearance, some rookie that clearly didn't have a single clue about the villain's fighting patterns had been forced to step up to the plate. The villain had them practically running around in circles trying to chase after them, the whole ordeal similar to playing fetch with a dog that couldn't tell a fake throw from a real one: all the villain had to do was lift their arm and the other would run off, seeking nothing.

They almost missed the hero, actually. Having a certainty of success was nice and all, but the villain would be lying if they said they didn't miss the slight challenge of it. When they won against the hero it was hard-worked for: the hero pushed them to their very limits and, as distraught as the villain could be at times when they lost, the victories certainly tasted far sweeter for it. They missed having that challenge - missed having someone to actively push them to heights they never thought they could reach.

This, however, was not exactly the challenge that the villain had wished for.

They quickly ducked into the one alleyway, pressing their back tightly against cold brick and letting their cloaking powers conceal them from sight. Or, at least, mostly conceal them. If the superhero were to look at them directly they would probably be able to tell - see that slight displacement of air surrounding their silhouette; the faintest of outlines surrounding their frame.

The approach of footsteps had them holding their breath, watching anxiously as the superhero came into view. So far, the villain was sure the other hadn't actually seen them yet - in fact, they were the one to first spot the superhero. It was only in their attempt to slip away that the other had seemed to suddenly pursue them, chasing the villain down with a passion whilst they tried their best to flee.

The superhero came to a halt, glancing down the alley before looking ahead again, seemingly taking a moment to listen. The villain held perfectly still, hoping the shadows might conceal them further. A minute passed. The villain watched as their pursuer huffed out a breath and walked on out of sight - their steady pace turning to a sprint as they tried to follow what they believed to be the villain's trail.

Safe to say, the villain was definitely not heading that way...

They crept backwards slowly, disassembling their cloaking powers to preserve their energy as they made their escape. When they were sure the superhero was out of hearing range they booked it, following the alley until it led out into a narrow street. The villain crossed the empty road and darted down another hidden path, letting it lead them out and away before turning left - the villain hooking round the corner with ease and catching onto the sound of running too late when a figure barrelled into them. They fell to the ground, fear seizing them at the thought that the superhero had found them.

The villain didn't allow themself to hesitate: they threw a sharp punch to their assailant's side, the other crying out in pain at the blow and whimpering when their positions were switched. The villain was surprised how easy it had been - how easily the superhero had let them take control of the fight; how quickly they'd pinned them to the ground, hooking their hands around their wrists and holding them firmly against the rough concrete, staring down at them to see--

It wasn't the superhero. It wasn't them at all.

The villain cocked their head slightly to the side, not recognising the figure below them at first. The realisation dawned on them slowly though - their eyes scanning carefully over a face they'd only ever really caught a glimpse of once during a fight: the fray so brutal that their mask had split along the seams, the white of their uniform practically blending in with the parts of it that were red.

"Hero?"

The other startled at the name, staring up at the villain with wide, teary eyes. They'd never seen the hero look so afraid in their life: the other was shaking, hair messy and tangled, a nasty cut just below their left eye seeping a steady trail of blood down their cheek. The villain's gaze moved down further, examining the ring of bruises around the hero's neck - the jagged scratches that led down from it making it seem like the other had clawed at their own throat.

Too stunned to say anything else, the villain released them, watching as the hero immediately scrambled away from them. Their breaths came out short and ragged, rather like their clothes - what might have once been a long white tee now looked grey, parts of it ripped and torn and stained in what the villain knew had to be the hero's own blood--

Where had they gone?

The villain had never thought to ask before - heroes came and went all the time - but this was clearly different. No, whatever had happened to the hero, they'd only just escaped it - were still escaping it.

"Please."

It was the first word out of the terrified hero's mouth. Their voice cracked as they spoke, their entire form trembling as they continued to back away.

"Please, you can't - you can't take me back," they said.

"Back where?" the villain asked.

The hero didn't respond, just shook their head as if the very idea was too much to bare.

The villain tried to press them further, taking a tentative step forward but stopping as soon as the other flinched back. It wasn't their responsibility. They could just leave it, let it sort itself out - the superhero was around, they'd probably find the hero eventually anyway...

But what if someone else found them first?

The villain didn't like getting involved in this kind of thing. They knew where they drew the line and whoever had taken the hero had gone well beyond that. Thieving was easy - simple - but this? This was a mess: this was a human life torn to shreads without being killed; this was torture and torment and trauma, all for what? What could the hero have possibly done to deserve this?

Taking a breath, the villain made a choice - weighing the hero's safety against that of the gemstone in their pocket and knowing exactly which had more sway over them.

The villain sighed. "I'll help you," they said, watching as the hero's eyes widened a little in hope. They took another careful step forward and this time the other didn't shy away - instead letting them come close and reach out their hands, slowly pulling the hero back up onto their own two feet. "You're in luck: Superhero is nearby. I can't promise I'll be willing to get too close but--"

Suddenly, the hero wrenched the villain's hands off of them, stumbling back as if burnt.

The villain startled, grabbing for them again and frowning when the hero tried to get away - clawing at the hand that now held their arm.

"Hero? Hero, I'm trying to help you!" The villain grabbed them fully, confused by the other's refusal. Something was wrong - deeply wrong - and the hero's struggling certainly wasn't going to make it any better. "Hero, stop it! Hero, just let me--"

The other froze in their hold.

Their eyes went wide and their gaze drew upward, staring out at the night sky with nothing but fear. They tried to back up against the one wall, whimpering quietly when the villain's hold on them remained strong.

It took the villain a second - a small moment of confusion before something clicked in their mind and they hurried to wrap their cloak about the hero, pushing them back to the wall where they'd wanted to hide and letting their powers take affect. A soft, pained whine escaped the hero's throat - the villain likely nudging against some unseen wound but they didn't have another choice. They held a hand against the hero's mouth, whispering an apology before pressing in closer - the hero squirming slightly as the villain tried to hold them still, ensuring their powers enveloped them both entirely.

Then they waited.

And they waited.

A long moment passed before the villain heard it - the faint ruffling of fabric shifting in the wind. The hero had always been better in that way, sharper.

The villain had been right to trust the other's instincts...

They continued to hold the hero tightly as they watched the supervillain descend from the sky, feet landing upon the ground with a small thud while their cape billowed out behind them. Slowly, they glanced about the alleyway before them, seeing nothing.

So, this was who the hero was running from.

"Oh, Pet," the supervillain called. "You should know better than to run from me. Come out now: it will be worse if you don't."

Against them, the villain could feel the hero's heart practically jackhammering out of their chest - their eyes were squeezed shut, their whole body trembling; fresh tears spilled down their cheeks out of pure fear but they never made a sound.

"I know you're smarter than this." The supervillain took a few steps forward, unknowingly getting farther away from what they were searching for. "There's no place you can go where I won't find you. No one powerful enough to protect you from me. You're clever - such a clever, little pet - you know what's best: come on out."

Both the hero and villain remained frozen. The supervillain scoured their surroundings once more - letting out a short agitated huff before turning their back.

"I will find you, Hero," they said. "And once I do I'll--"

They stopped.

Their gaze snapped to the side, looking down the path the villain had come down. Suddenly they backed up, the sound of running echoing along the walls - the supervillain stood waiting with clenched fists. The second a figure darted around the corner, they caught them by the neck and snatched them up into the air, the newcomer's feet dangling above the ground as they started to choke.

Within their grasp, the superhero's face was red with rage. "Put. Me. Down," they snarled.

A beat.

The supervillain let out a disappointed tut, releasing their hold and letting the other drop down roughly onto the concrete below. "You had me excited for a second," they said.

The superhero gasped for breath but still held the other's gaze evenly. "And you almost killed me on sight," they spat.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic--"

"Have you found them yet?"

The supervillain frowned. "Does it look like I've found them?"

"Well, you better find them fast," the superhero said. "If I wake up tomorrow morning and see their face printed all over the news I'll--"

"You'll what?"

The superhero shut their mouth as the supervillain took a step forward, the ground seeming to shake slightly as the other regarded them. A few steps away, the villain held the hero closer - sweat starting to seep down their forehead as they focused on keeping their powers active, fearful that the moving ground might displace their work.

"I think you forget," the supervillain began, "just exactly who is in charge here... I don't need to find anyone. You, however, have a whole reputation at stake - loyal heroes, loving fans: you think they'll worship you tomorrow as they did today if this gets out?"

For a moment, the superhero said nothing. Their gaze held a deep hatred but it was clear they couldn't act upon it - not with the supervillain ready to snap at any second.

"We had a deal," they finally said, their words chosen carefully. "I've upheld my part without fault, even at times when you've had one of your little 'accidents'. You owe this to me. You're the one that lost them - not me - so I'd expect you to make sure that they're found, at the very least."

The supervillain regarded them levelly. "I owe you nothing."

"Bullsh--"

"I don't need you, Superhero. I never have," the supervillain said. "I could take any of your little heroes away from you whenever I please - do you know why I don't?"

The superhero paused, debating. "Why?"

Their nemesis grinned. "Because I like seeing the look on their face when the person they're trained for years to trust sends them off to die. When they realise that they meant nothing - that it all meant nothing because you never actually cared. The moment they see their idol and mentor is corrupt - that betrayal, that grief - it breaks them so beautifully...my work is practically done for me."

The ground became still.

The superhero's expression was pinched - a look of disgust showing clearly in the downturn of their lips. But they said nothing.

The supervillain patted them twice upon the shoulder as if they might be close friends, turning their gaze up to the skies above. "No, I don't need you at all: you just make it a little more fun. And if you are found out tomorrow, well, I have been wondering just how quickly I could burn this city to the ground..."

"You wouldn't," the superhero said. "You wouldn't dare--"

The supervillain laughed. "Oh? And why not? If you truly believe that then why have we been making deals for the last eight years, hm?"

The superhero turned away with a curse, putting distance between them once more and starting to go back the way they'd come.

"And look at that: now you're running from me."

"I'm not running from you!" they snapped. "I'm going find them."

"Good," the supervillain said. "You go do that, and maybe you'll still have a city to protect tomorrow."

The superhero didn't say goodbye. Just scoffed as they walked away, most likely still trying to pick up the villain's trail - a trail that they'd clearly mistaken for the hero's. They ran off out of sight, silence filling the alleyway once more as the sound of their footsteps faded to nothing. The supervillain, meanwhile, stayed a little longer. Their eyes glanced once more down the alley, sweeping right over the pair's cloaked frame, before they lifted off the ground, flying off into the night to continue their search.

The villain didn't dare to move until the hero did. They just stood there, heart's racing as they stood chest to chest - still cloaked in case their pursuers suddenly came back.

No wonder the hero had panicked when they'd suggested taking them to the superhero... The villain was still trying to wrap their mind around the fact that the two were working together - that the system was corrupt somehow; that superhero was bad. The both of them made for a deadly combination: how the hero had even escaped in the first place being nothing short of a miracle.

Below them the hero in question shifted slightly and the villain finally released their hold. They removed their hand from the hero's mouth and stepped back, their powers receding along with the tension that had set within their limbs - a relieved sigh slipping past their lips as their muscles came to relax. The hero seemed to be trying to calm themself too, taking long breaths in and out, wincing a little as they moved away from the wall.

"You didn't turn me in," the muttered quietly. Their eyes were cast down at the ground, fingers tugging at the hem of their frayed clothes.

There was no thank you. No sudden trust. But they weren't running from the villain either.

The other studied them slowly, debating their options once more. They doubted there was another place the hero could go where they wouldn't be found - by the supervillain or someone else entirely, and whether the latter wanted to help or not the villain suspected it wouldn't end well. In fact, after listening to the supervillain's claims, they believed that it would be best if the hero was never found at all.

This thought in mind, the villain's hand wandered down to their belt, unlatching something small off the side of it. "Hero?" they asked.

The other turned to look up at them.

"Where were you heading?"

The hero bit their lip, eyes welling up a little. "H-Home."

The villain's jaw clenched. "And would you still go there now?"

"I mean I- I would m-make it quick, I wouldn't want...I wouldn't..." the hero started trembling, tears rolling down their cheeks. "I just n-need to see them. I just - I need to, I have to say--"

The villain had plunged the syringe into the hero's neck before the other could so much as blink. They gaped, only able to watch in horror as the villain pulled it back out - the contents empty as they returned it to the small compartment on the side on their belt.

"I'm sorry," the villain said, "but it'll be easier this way."

They took a step forward as the hero shook their head, trying to move away only to stumble and fall straight into the villain's arms.

"I'm so sorry, Hero, but you can't go home...not yet."

Their legs had given out but the hero could still move their arms. They flailed in the villain's grasp, clawing and hitting and pounding and scratching as more tears spilled from their eyes, too busy choking on their own sobs to string a single sentence together. It was heartbreaking but it had to be done: the villain held them until the strength in their arms was gone as well, the hero's breaths quickening in one last moment of panic before levelling out, their eyes falling shut as the drug cycling through their system finally took its hold.

Once the villain was certain they were fully asleep, they lifted the hero up into their arms, praying that the trip back to their lair would go uninterrupted.

[bangtangalicious]

Hello! What would be the reaction of fuck me forever jk if the OC is openly flirting with someone else than him in a bar or at a college party?

so perfect (m) | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: smut, drabble, college au | fuckboy!jungkook bestfriend!jungkook

summary: jungkook doesn't like anyone's hands on you but his

wordcount: 2.2k

tw: explicit smut, dubcon, coercion, whiny kook yall know how it is, man lovesss ur tiddiez, breast play, praise, unprotected sex, slight impreg kink, body worship, read that again, he WORSHIPS YOU, jungkook is ~very~ problematic in this...please don't read if this triggers you in any way!, mentions of alcohol, fighting, slight emotional blackmail/self-pity, possessive themes, jealousy, taking pictures, implied sharing of illicit pictures, sex while intoxicated (he is not you), dom!kook, jungkook pov. 

a/n: this was supposed to be a reaction but well, here we are. LMAO. this occurs in the fuck me forever au but can be read as a stand-alone. @gaeguuliii i hope you like this <3 thanks for the request :)

There was something so beautifully rotten about college parties. The tension in the air was thick as bodies coursed through the sparsely furnished halls of the frat house. Beer, sweat and tears all over the floor.

Jungkook was with the boys but his eyes were always on you. An amused expression on his face as he watched someone approach you. 

He didn't care. He knew that guy wasn't your type at all. He just found it funny that he thought he had a shot with the hottest girl on campus, his best friend一 you.

You were always a flirt, of course you were. But ever since the two of you hooked up, your advances on others had practically stopped. It had been an uncomfortable conversation then, when you had asked Jungkook to dinner and he chose not to show up, busy doing other things.

You wound up back at your own apartment, seeing him balls deep in another girl on your couch. The same couch where he made love to you like a horny teenager. You were in tears, and Jungkook had been on his knees, pleading for your forgiveness. He loved you so much, you had to know that. He knew he was far from perfect, and one emotionally draining argument later, he decided that perhaps the two of you should stay just friends. You were sad at the time, but knew it was the right choice.

What Jungkook didn't realize, was that being just friends meant that you would start going back to other guys. He didn't like that at all. How could you? Right in front of him? The thought occurred to him that perhaps you were just trying to get his attention. You were trying to make him jealous. That had to be it.

And it was fucking working.

As the man’s hand slid up your thigh, and your drunken giggles spilled onto his chest, Jungkook felt nauseous to the bone. He whispered things in your ears that had you blushing like crazy, practically throwing yourself at the fratboy like some fucking whore.

Jungkook was enraged. You weren't even trying to get his hands off of you. You were practically begging for it. Jungkook would have saved you if he thought you were uncomfortable, but clearly this man had wiggled his way and manipulated you. Maybe you were too drunk to see what was happening, maybe you had no idea that his hand was on your ass, groping you in plain sight. A shameless bastard, copping a feel.

Jungkook was your best friend, he couldn't just stand by and watch you get taken advantage of by some sick, filthy man. He clenched his jaw, grabbing the bottle of Hennessy from the kitchen and gulping it down. A warm glow supplemented the growing fire in his chest. The painful burn of watching your tongue twist with the man who held you. The man who wasn't him.

A pang of sadness overtook him. Oh God. Had he fucked up? Had you really moved on? You probably weren't thinking of him at all. He had his chance, and he blew it. He was pathetic. And you一you were perfect. If you wanted that sorry excuse of a man, then he should let you have him. That's what a good friend would do...right?

Another swig of the bitter liquid, he watched the man kiss you hard. His hands were everywhere, squeezing your perfect perfect breasts. Jungkook felt dizzy, as if he had gotten a harsh blow to the head. He stumbled forward, leaning on a counter where he took a final dose of the liquor only to slam it onto the counter, causing the bottle to shatter, and attracting the eyes of everyone in the room. Including you.

"The hell do you think you're doing huh?" Jungkook grabbed the collar of the man’s flimsy jersey. "Get your hands off of my girl"

Jungkook didn't even bother seeing your reaction, but he had all eyes on him now, might as well make it official. The man cocked his head to the side. "Your girl? Yeah right"

Unfortunately for him, Jungkook's response involved a lot less talking and a lot more of his fists pounding the man into the ground until he felt your arms around him, pulling him back.

"Jungkook!" It was as though he had finally heard your screams. You dragged him away as some others helped the injured man. Jungkook allowed you to drag him upstairs into one of the rooms, slamming the door shut. He smiled softly, seeing your worried eyes. Or perhaps they were angry. Either way, Jungkook thought you looked cute. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Wrong with me?" Jungkooks grabbed your wrists "He was taking advantage of you!"

You scoffed, shaking your head "No...he wasn't. I've been talking to him for a while now. I haven't even been drinking"

"Talking to him? Why?"

"Why do you care? I gave you a chance, even though you--" You laughed bitterly "I know you're incapable of being in a relationship. Which is fine. Whatever. But you don't get to stop me from living my life either" You yanked your hands away from his grasp, folding them over your chest.

"You can't" Jungkook shouted, "I can't handle it" He gritted his teeth, almost trembling with anger.

"I don't fucking care Jungkook! I'm not your girlfriend"

He lunged forward, wrapping his hands harshly around your neck as you stumbled back. "I'm trying! Okay! Can't you fucking see that? You're fucking hot, okay...and all of these guys are just...they're just fucking desperate and they don't deserve you"

"And you do?" You raised your eyebrows at him skeptically as he released you, sliding his hands down to your arms. He pressed his forehead against yours, looking deep into your eyes.

"It hurts so bad Y/n...you know I want you. I love you. Please don't get with other guys. I hate it. I really really hate it. You're mine don't you fucking get that?" He stroked your cheek fondly "You're so fucking beautiful. I never stop thinking about you, you know that don't you? You know how much you mean to me, so don't be a bitch Y/n...don't hurt me"

"Jungkook. You're drunk. Get off of me" You attemped to shove him back, which only caused him to hold you tighter. "I wanna go back to the party Jungkook, I'm done with your fucking drama"

"Please baby" He groaned, nestling his head into the crook of your neck. Inhaling your scent as he continued to whisper into you "You don't understand how guys work...I do. They just want your pretty little body all to themselves. They don't care about you like I do, you know that baby. Come on Y/n..." He began kissing you softly across your shoulder, "You know you want me"

"Jungkook stop it" You sighed, tilting your neck as he moved his kisses up to your ear. "I'm tired of this back and forth."

Jungkook cooed at you, his hands carefully sliding up your crop top over your bra where he pinched your nipples through the padding. "I know...I really am the worst aren't I...you just make it so hard for me" His fingers slid under, gliding directly over your sensitive nubs as he pushed your bra up "You're so fucking hot Y/n..." He growled, his movements becoming harsher "Don't you remember that day? Hm? You were practically begging for my cock weren't you? Oh you poor baby, my poor little girl, just letting me do whatever I want to you...you would wouldn't you? You'd do anything for me...right?"

Your breath hitched as Jungkook slid his knee between your thighs, allowing you to grind against him. He enjoyed the conflicted look in your eyes. Your lips called him, through their soft whines, and he gave you what you wanted. He kissed you hard, like a lover would.

"So fucking pretty. You're so pretty baby. You know that don't you? Come on" He left your lips, nudging you with his nose, a smirk plastered onto his face as he watch you lose your resolve "Come on baby...let me have you. Let me fuck you"

"I dont..." You exhaled, but Jungkook saw past your words, and only saw the arousal glimmering in your eyes. He pulled your shirt up, letting it pile at the top of you chest as he heatedly kissed all over your exposed flesh. The resounding smack of his lips filling the room as he assaulted your heaving breasts. "We shouldn't do this"

"You're so fucking hot baby...look at these fucking tits." He smacked them lightly, as he continued to suckle you like a child, perfectly aware of the gasps of pleasure that left your lips as he did. "You know you're gonna give in Y/n...let me make you feel good" He rose back to your lips "You want this. Let me give it to you good"

You whined as he lifted you up, plopping you down onto the random stranger's bed. He practically tore your clothes off, desperately eager to see your naked body.

"Y/n can I take a picture of you please" Jungkook knelt before you, mouth inches away from your dampening folds "I think about you all the time...it'd really...you know...help"

Before you could respond, he shoved his tongue in deep, you could feel his smirk between your legs as he watched you arc your back, writhing in pleasure "Hm baby? You're so fucking hot oh my god...let me take a picture of you like this, so fucking gorgeous. You're gonna be the death of me"

He flattened his tongue, spearing as deep into you as he could get, nose pressed up against your clit. "Hmm baby what do you say? Can I please? I won't show anyone else, you know that. It's just for me...for us"

"Yeah" You gasped "Whatever, just...hurry" You thighs trembled as he left you, your slickness spread over his thick lips as he reached for his phone. You closed your eyes as he took a few snaps.

"Perfect. Goddd baby you're so perfect. Sprawled out for me...my fucking baby, pretty fucking girl" He tossed his phone aside, then proceeded to pull down his shorts, stroking his long, eager cock as his eyes ravished you.

"Tell me you want it. Say it" He barked, pumping himself furiously.

"I want it Jungkook. Want you" He smiled, pleased at your response. Lining his cock up, he kissed your belly, trailing up your chest to your lips as he slowly pushed in.

"That's it...fuckkk...god yes. Feels even better than last time" He pushed through your thick, oozing cunt. "You feel so good baby....so fucking good holy shit. God how are you real?"

He bucked his hips forward, fucking you nice and hard, your legs in the air, wrapping around him as he thrust into you shamelessly. You cried out his name, eyes rolling back as he filled you up deeper and deeper each time. He was big, throbbing inside you. He stretched you out so damn well, you wanted to moan at the top of your lungs.

"You gonna let me cum inside this pretty little cunt?" He peered at you with hope "Hmmm baby?" He pushed into you, hitting you right where you needed, watching as you gushed all over him. "Don't you want that? My cum just filling you all the way up...you'd look so hot just...fucking..." Jungkook groaned furiously, his pace quickening as the thought of your cum-filled pussy sending him into a frenzy.

"You want me to fuck you raw baby? Hm? You loved it didn't you? Want me to just...fuck a baby into you...is that it? So fucking hot...then everyone would know who fucking owns this body"

You were too caught up in the pleasure to realize his words. The drag of his length in and out of you sending you into a state of utter bliss.

"I can't believe you're mine" Jungkook's eyes were glued to his cock, as you dripped out onto him, warming his cock up so he could slide into you easily. "All wet just for me...right baby? This is all for me right? Mine. Mine. Mine." He muffled his face into your chest, wiggling his head as he pressed your tits together, slobbering all over them.

When he came you were too fucked out to care. His hot seed flooded you, but Jungkook was far from done. He rolled you onto your side, making himself comfortable behind you as he hitched one leg over his elbow, the other hand sliding under you to feel your stomach as his cock pressed through. "Mmm baby you smell like heaven.... fuckkk" He stilled there, allowing himself to simply enjoy the feeling of stuffing you full, with his cum leaking out onto the sheets.

"Jungkook" You panted, out of breath "W..what are you doing?"

"Sshhh...it's okay baby. Just enjoy it..."

Jungkook smiled, face buried in the back of your neck. It really was too good to be true, having you in his arms, all his for the taking.

He couldn't wait to show his friends.

masterlist | thanks for reading!! let me know what you think ;)

[ringmyheart]

hey, i was wondering if i could hv headcanons with how to fight characters? maybe when their crush's parents scold them for getting bad score at school, like that time at the end of the semester. pls do it with seong taehoon and jiyeon woo. thank you! 🥺

SEONG TAEHOON

The first thing he’s gonna do honestly is tell u to fight ur parents. U tell him about how u got a bad score and how it’s the end of the semester and the test/ur overall grade was important and he’s so used to living life the way HE wants he tells u to just. Fight them

And you’re first thought 2 say is idk how to fight? Bc what he said is just so sudden and kinda preposterous and ur upset and he’s like okay, I’ll teach u then and ur like I’m not fighting my parents 😭 and he goes okay then I’LL do it

And u have to rlly reiterate like” NOBODY is fighting my parents” first and foremost and after that he kind of just goes silent because he has no idea how to help you or what to do and u have knocked every idea he’s offered out of the park

Truthfully I don’t think he cares about grades too much for himself and this extends to you too. He doesn’t get why you’re so concerned, and his dad (I’m pretty sure form what we’ve seen so far) is really nice and laidback so it’s not like he’s ever being reprimanded so he’s also partfully angry at your parents bc they made u upset

Like rlly angry LMAO and as ur ranting to him ab how they yelled at u for bad grades he’s just like one day… one day he’s gna fight them 😐 he doesn’t make exceptions. He might tell u to tell them to watch out LMAO but he says it so dead seriously and u laugh but wonder if he’s even joking ?

He’s like okay well have u considered: running away

And u quickly dismiss that idea too bc u have nowhere to go and it’s literally just them scolding u ur like it’s not THAT srs... I’m just upset and he’s like u have a place to sta... nvm he’s not gonna b sweet if it’s not like absolutely necessary LOL

Bc of his lack of understanding or just overall interest in this kind of stuff, he just listens to u bc his advice clearly wasn’t cutting it for u.

He asks to see the grade and u hand him the test or the grade folder and it if ur grades weren’t even that bad, he’s gonna get frustrated w you and be like u have gotta b kidding me this is what ur stressed about 😐 what ur parents yelled at u for?? And he smacks u on the side of ur head and is like please tell me ur joking these are good. Anything above a C in his eyes is still really good

If ur grades were a D, he’s like neutral like okay yeah it was kinda bad but not the worst, don’t stress about it I’ve gotten tons of D’s.

And if it was an F he’s like oh okay yeah it was pretty bad like I get it. But this would just make things worse and ur like ur right I did so baaad and he’s like nonono oh no it’s not like that and he like stiffens and goes quiet when u get misty eyed I guess and wonders once again why this is so serious to you?? Who cares about grades?

He probably gets mad ur letting other ppl control ur life. We’ve seen that he hates other ppl living their lives for others or by others rules and he’s kinda frustrated at you and wishes he could just take over u for a day or something and tell ur parents off and ur talking about it and he’s narrowing his eyes at you but ur clearly upset so he’s not gonna yell at u rn. When u feel better ab this he probably will tell you to stop living by others standards but for now he’s kinda lost

He tries to convince u to rise up against ur parents and is like “are u gonna keep letting people in ur life control u?!” And it’s like a motivational pep talk and ur like “no!” And he’s like “are you gonna let THEM yell at you and hurt YOUR feelings?! Cause I sure as hell am not!” And ur getting more energetic and r like “me neither!” And he’s like “are you gonna let ur own PARENTS talk to YOU like that?!” And u go “no!!” Nd he’s like “we r sick of it!!” And u go “ya we r 😭” and then he thinks ur on board so he’s like good!! Let’s go beat ur parents

And ur like “what” and he realizes u weren’t on the same page the entire time so he eventually bedgrudginly will lie that idea go

And he tells you this, like he says it won’t matter in seven years, right?? So why does it matter? Pls cheer up and be doesnt outright say this but he’s like “don’t worry ur pretty little head about it” or something to cheer u up

If it works and he successfully consoles u he is rlly happy and doesn’t show it but he’ll shove his hands in his pockets and go “see?? I told you. I’m good at this advice thing.”

If it doesn’t, he’ll try to take ur mind off it and he probably just shows u his spinning back kick or something LMAO or take u to the dojo so u can either do stuff w him or just watch

But if u tell him what ur upset about isn’t grades but ur parents, he’ll listen to u tell him what they told u if it was mean or strict and if it’s rlly bad his eyes will go bloodshot and he’ll roll up his sleeves and be like okay let me at them then

Literally don’t even JOKE ab him beating up ur parents he will do it 😭😭 and worse thing is he’ll WIN. Don’t even be like “yeah I wish u would beat them up for me” bc he doesn’t draw the line between u joking and him actually doing it probably. Even if he knows ur joking, which he will bc he’s not dense he’ll use it against u and be like u have me permission and suddenly ur the instigator

He listens to u rant about them if u just want a listener and he can probably tell by ur body language… like If ur clearly wanting advice, he’ll offer u the best he can and will tell you to stick up for yourself or, if you’re really upset he’ll even consider talking to them for u. No fists to his chagrin but he’ll advocate for u and he won’t plan beforehand at all he’ll just say “I think u need 2 be nicer to ur child.” And will be like “this shit doesn’t even matter anyways” and will rip the test paper in front of them so this option is obviously not even a choice for you

If u start to cry he’ll first awkwardly do that thing that people do when they don’t know how to console someone and rub your arm and he’s like “Uhh, do u want water?” Bc he’s sad bc UR sad and doesn’t know what to do and it’s like what he’s doing isn’t that helpful but the tone in his voice is v consoling and comforting bc he’s suddenly kinda quiet 4 once

If ur sobbing he’ll hold u and u cry into his shirt and later he’ll talk about how you got it all wet but like when he goes home in the mirror and sees the tear stains it reminds him ur hurt and breaks his heart

He will study with you. And by studying it’s just him like sitting with you while you study. He doesn’t think you should study but if that’s how you want to solve this and feel better he’s down. He won’t read anything but if u have flash cards he will read them back to you and ask u questions and he doesn’t know the right answer himself (unless it’s math he’s probably rlly rlly good at math.) so u have to write them on the back. But he’s pretty good at helping u study

And if ur doing flash cards, he won’t tell u the answer until u guess it and he’s good at hinting to it and he gets annoyed VERY easily when ur not saying the answer u wrote on the back but bites it down

If ur parents make u stay home more and study as like a consequence of gettig a bad grade, he won’t have any of it

He will either confront ur parents and that either makes things somewhat better or incredibly worse

So if that’s what happens he’ll text u a lot and face time u in secret and call u a lot so even tho ur not together, every time u come home from school and open a book ur phone is hidden in the bend of it and ur fting and sometimes u don’t even talk he’s just FaceTiming u so u won’t b alone while u study and bc he misses u

Overall, he really couldn’t give a shit about grades but if need be, he’ll help u with urs, he’d be the best math tutor if ur looking, if ur parents lock u up a lot to study more bc they’re mad he will use any other option to see u, and he’ll try his best to console u despite not being that knowledgeable or understanding why you’re upset. His go to comfort option is distraction, but if it’s futile he’ll do whatever it is u wanna do. If u thank him for helping u he’ll kick something and will b like “yeah whatever I was just sick of u moping around.”

JIYEON WOO

He understands what’s going on with you all too well. When you tell him ur parents scolded u bc u didn’t do so hot in a test or ur overall grades this semester, it’s like his heart is a weight that drops into his stomach and ties his intestine into a huge knot. Like he feels the dread set in

He’s takes a muuuuchhhh more calm approach than Taehoon tbh, like while ur talking he won’t say a word and will listen. He is SUCHHH a good listener and especially now he’s just staring at you and nodding his head to let you know he’s listening to make sure u know that like he is there and present and if ur sad he’s sad too like u guys r a “team”

While ur venting, if u begin to cry he’ll let u and he’s more of a “rub-ur-back-soothingly” type of consoler so he’ll do that and if u half hug him he’ll continue do it but he’s looking at u w the saddest eyes in the world ☹️

Doesn’t rlly know what to do at first besides listen and b nice

He might even get misty eyed with u too bc he understands so much. But he won’t bring up his home situation at ALL, it’s like ur stage and he’s just a listener, he won’t make u feel like he’s comparing ur pain

His fist clenched at his side because he’s angry at your parents AND his and he’s imagining what ur parents said in his mind and even if it wasn’t that bad, he’s fuming

He might even offer to run away w u too and he “knows a place” 😭and ur like omg it’s not that bad but after reminiscing on his own home life he just assumes you’re as sick of it as him

If you’re his s/o, you obviously know about his YouTube streams, so that week at the end of every stream he’ll take a risk and unmute it and go “and don’t worry about grades too much, guys :)” and ur “guys”

Either that or he’ll do something so he will stop streaming completely for that week bc it might make u feel like he’s rubbing it in ur face how much he studies nd how studious he is and yes it gets him in trouble w his dad but when u start to feel better ab ur grades and u smile and he’s like “I thought u were upset?” And u say “oh, yeah… I’m feeling better now :)” it’s all worth it

Since he’s so consumed w streaming if u weren’t able to ever meet in person, and u had to FaceTime or text him, he probably spams u and u guys have to text at like 3am bc he’s studying all other hours of the day so he’s under his covers and reading or calling u

Like it goes

‘My parents got mad at me bc I got bad grades :(((‘ and then he sees the text he reads it and then again and is like oh no bc is it like his situation???

And then u go get a snack or something and go MIA during texting but he doesn’t know that so he spams u bc he thinks that maybe ur parents took ur phone and r locking u up like his did him so he’s like

‘Are you okay?’

‘Hello…?’

‘Where did you go? :(‘

‘Are you okay?’

‘Please be okay…’

‘(Y/n)?’

And if he suspects ur parents took ur phone and r gonna read this he sends things a very lengthy and persuasive text that explains why this is cruel and unusual and to PLS give u ur phone back and then it says seen and ur like it’s still me :)) I’m okay but thx for worrying 😭❤️

And he’s like ‘thank god…’

Since he’s a part of that newtube company (XY or something? I forgot HAHA), he has connections honestly??? So if you’re that torn over this grade he might try and pull some strings to improve your grade, make classes easier or to reach your parents even. Like he affects his parents’ boss which then butterfly effects to you

Assures you that grades aren’t that important, or tries to, but it’s so horrible coming from him because he has such good grades and it always is gonna feel like he’s just saying that no matter what

If he could he’d fail a test too to make u feel better and like ur in it together but his dad would MURDER him. So he just tries to tell u it’s okay and graders aren’t that bad

If ur mostly upset over the bad grade, he’s like it’s fine, and even if it’s a grade he genuinely considers bad he’ll look at it like “...” before going this is fine too!! :) and in his mind he’s like if I got this my dad would kill me but would NOT tell you that EVERRR. He’s gonna do anything to preserve ur feeling rn and the next few weeks he’s especially nice to u

Will study with you to make you feel better but it’s hard because he’s really far ahead tbh :(( like he explains assuming u already have some ground knowledge. BUT he’s really good at being patient so if ur like I don’t understand and get frustrated he’s like “oh I’m sorry!!! Here, I’ll go over it again.”

U guys start spending time at the library and when his dad questions him he’s like I’m studying and he really is and it’s like a study date and it actually ends up being RLLY fun

Might even print u worksheets and stuff and leaves nice notes on them when he gives them to u like every chapter has another ‘u can do it’ of ‘ur already here?! Omg! Ur far ahead keep going!’ And lots of smiley faces and hearts in the margins

He is not above helping u cheat. He will give u answers in school, risking being caught nd getting in trouble, like he’ll find a way to sit as close to u as possible in class and “drop” his pen besides u that just happens to have a paper inside with all of the answers!!!!

And when you see it you’re so happy and you look at him and wink trying it be inconspicuous and it’s so obvious and he’s like omg (y/n) pls… but he’s happy ur happy and ur grades improve so much bc he gets every answer right and so of course you are getting them right too

But u both plan on u getting a few wrong to avoid suspicion and he’s so happy when ur happy bc ur grades improve so he’ll start sending u the HW, too

Will send u just study notes if u don’t want to cheat and they r so good and he’ll also send u his flash cards and everything and lend u notes from the past

He knows ur YouTube username so if u start to study a lot more bc of ur parents’ scolding and watch his streams to “study” w him despite the million viewers it’s like it’s just u nd him and when u comment like “here bc my parents yelled @ me and now im trying to improve my grades” he is simultaneously v happy ur there but also heart broken

If it’s mainly ur parents scolding u ur upset about, he’ll listen to u talk about it for hours on end over text, FaceTime, call, etc.

Makes a joke ab sending ur parents to the nursing home he volunteers at to cheer u up 😭😭 it either makes u son harder or laugh

Overall, he cares LOTS about grades, but his not urs. And if ur worried ab getting a job he’s like dw I’ll cover u in the future :)) and he’s very understanding bc he’s in a very similar situation and hates seeing u suffer like that or go thru that even if it’s genuinely not that bad. If u cry his works just SHATTERS and he’ll listen to u rant and cry for hours on end. And if ur grades were actually considerably bad, he won’t tell u that, and he’ll help u improve them bc THATS his solution to it and he’s good at helping u study. If ur not up to it he will help u cheat despite the danger of getting caught, so he can see u happy again :(( he’s rlly so sad ur going thru the same thing as him and will do anything to make it better. Won’t offer to fight ur parents but if need be he might rough one of them up if things escalate to really like mentally abusive-like proportions. But if it wasn’t that bad, he’ll just console u and help u to feel better no matter what !!

(Unedited)

I hope this came out well!! I’m so happy I’m getting how to fight requests tysm for that, <3 also it ended up kinda long and I lost my train of thought a few times but this felt like an emergency request and when I read those I like when they’re rlly long bc it distracts and comforts me. If it was one I hope ur okay and know u r more than ur grades!!!! ❤️❤️ ty for ur request :))

[notnctu]

to jisung, my family friend ♡

To All The J’s I’ve Loved Before Series by notnctu ♡ park jisung x fem!reader  ♡ genre - fluff ♡ wc - 2.2k ♡ warnings - none ♡ synopsis - in which you guide a lost freshman to his lecture ♡ taglist - @colpen ; @cestmoncoeur ; @hyucksberry ; @lexiluness ; @lovelycharm05 ; @dearlyminhyung ; @classic-antifood ; @pikijaemin​ ; @whorefortaeyong​ ; @jaeismytamtation​ ♡ a/n - let us know if you want to be on the taglist for the next ones!

Jisung,

I’m already laughing at myself writing this letter, but it has to be done. You’ve grown up so well, I think it has to be a good four years since I’ve seen you in person. I can’t tell whether or not you're a stranger to me.

Our moms are literal best friends and I think we could’ve formed the same relationship if they didn’t try to force that on us. I’m reminiscing about our many play dates we had together as I write this.

We were such awkward kids, I mean, you still kind of are. Word of advice as your upperclassman, don’t wear your freshman lanyard. It’s too much of a tell that you’re a freshie, not that you don’t already look like one being lost on campus or clumsiness bumping into people on your way to class.

Jisung, I can’t help but look at you differently. When did your shy smile light up the room? You really grew into your features, because I don’t remember you having such a sharp jawline. I questioned my thoughts for you as we laughed together even after all these years. Your personality was still the same, maybe more mature now? Like someone hurt you in the past. Like your eyes grew sadder.

But honestly, you’re the most innocence I’ve experienced being in college. You showed me a type of love that could develop beyond a kiss or devious acts. I thought I’d never come across that again.

It was like an epiphany, like my cheeks felt warm whenever you acknowledged me. Your silliness never sold itself short, I could laugh for hours with you. There were no consequential thoughts between the two of us, like a refreshing love that is so pure and full of warmth from sunshine.

There’s a lot for you to learn and experience. I won’t rob that from you, given that I’ve experienced plenty after all these years. But there is such a compelling feeling within me to shield you from any negativity, to guide you in being the best version of yourself. I want to help you find yourself and maybe, grow with you since we have been absent of that during our teenage years. Maybe this is what should’ve been of our relationship a while ago.

If I had tried to notice you sooner, we could’ve saved each other from all the pain.

-from your mom’s favorite, y/n

“Honey, do you remember Jisung? You two were best friends when you were younger?” The phone call with your mom had droned on for more than you had anticipated. It was one of her I need a favor calls that could not wait until later.

The loud chatter and background music of the store caused your lack of attention to what she had been going on about. “You mean, your best friend’s son who you tried to force me to be best friends with when I was younger? What about him? I haven’t seen him for almost four years now.”

The phone receiver buzzed before she continued hesitantly, “I gave him your number.”

The box of pasta fell from your hands at her sudden statement. The strangers around you watched as your anxious hands recovered it from the ground. “Why?” The annoyance in your cadence was nothing surprising.

“He got accepted to your college, sweetie! Isn’t that great? You can guide him around campus, help him transition to college life. No one is forcing you two to be friends anymore. But it would be an amazing favor for me and your auntie. You know, she has been saying how she wants to pitch in to buy you a new car.” Coercion. Rolling your eyes, you aggressively packed your groceries in your reusable bag.

“How could I ever say no to her when I’m her favorite person?” It was a double edge sword with your mom. She never really gave you many options to work with and expected you to follow through as her very obedient daughter.

“That’s what I like to hear!” After the strenuous call, messages from an unknown number sat patiently in your inbox.

(127)-127-1271: hi (Y/N)!! idk if you remember me, we haven’t talked in awhile but it’s jisung! I’m going to be attending ur school in fall and I was wondering if you can help me with some housing stuff????

you: hey bud, congrats! Yeah, you can ask me anything you need to know, everything is very confusing when you first start out :)

The least you could do was act friendly. Jisung never did anything wrong and if anything, you two were oftentimes in the same awkward boat during your childhoods.

Talking to him again reminded you of all the holiday barbecues spent at his house and running away from the adults to play games with his cousins. The many sleepovers where his mom made him sacrifice his bed for you and he’d end up sleeping on their blow up mattress. Fond memories that were definitely lost in your present. You no longer remember how this boy even looked like.  

Summer slipped from your fingers faster than you could blink. Another school year of newer experiences, yet without the aid of being a lost freshman. Everything fell back into a schedule as classes began. The floods of college students rushing to their next lecture. Students working in study rooms or at the outside commodities. The lost freshmen with their dangling lanyards who walk too slow and bumped into people.

There was one tall, shy boy that caught your eye. He wandered outside the building, checking the lecture hall number and scanning the enormous facility. The sheer panic in his expression when he looked down at his phone in his iron grip.

His features were clearly recognizable, but Jisung had grown incredibly older. His jawline was wider and he had several inches stacked above you. As you approached him, his infamous pout appeared as he rapidly scrolled on his dark screen. His cheeks weren’t entirely slimmed out.

“Jisung?”

Jisung was quick to see who could have possibly known his name at this new institution. He tilted his head when he finally laid his tired eyes on you. He knew there was no way he could have recognized you on his own. Not that you were absolutely different, but the whole aura that surrounded you embodied a college upperclassman. You were no longer the loud, weird middle school girl who wore her hair in wacky ponytails.

“(Y/N)! Wow, it’s been so long. I almost didn’t know who you were.” The deepness of his voice took you aback. His hand retreated to the back of his neck out of shyness. His high cheekbones marveled in the autumn afternoon. The boyish charm was very prominent, but his eyes seemed a bit lifeless, a bit sad. There was no gleam, loss of fairy dust that glimmered.

“I can recognize a lost freshman anywhere. Let me walk you to class.” You offered and his cheeks turned slightly pink from embarrassment.

A small side smile appeared when Jisung handed you his phone to see what building he was struggling to find. “I was trying to not be obvious, but the campus is so big. I really haven’t gotten used to where my classes are.”

A laugh escaped your lips when you gave the boy his phone. His wide eyes grew concerned, afraid you were mocking him. “It’s already the third week and I never noticed you were in my class. Let’s go, I’ll finally have someone to sit with.”

A sense of relief washed over his entire body as he followed your lead. The curious boy remained astonished as you two walked side by side on the large campus. He was barely taking in the massive structures, long roads, and the volume of people. His whole face lit up, with tiny sound effects whenever he was amazed by something.

“How could you ever get used to a place like this? I feel like there is so much to explore.” Jisung tried his best to match your strides to avoid losing you in the stream of hurried students.

“Yeah, it loses its luster after a few months.” Looking up, you noted the drop in his smile. Guilt filled your system at lowering his spirits. “But with the right experiences, you’ll fall in love with it more.”

Just like that, his rectangular smile rested well on his small face. “Thanks for answering all my texts over the summer.” His eyes averted to the ground as he held his backpack straps.

“I’m happy to help. C’mon, Jisung. We go way back, you’ve helped me escape many horrible adult encounters during your mom’s get togethers. The least I could do is return the favor.”

“Oh, we’re bringing up the past? Are you still afraid of the dark?” He raised a snarky eyebrow and you were surprised at the random attack.

You scoffed dramatically, and pretended to seem offended. “Says the one who had the night light in his room growing up.”

His hearty laugh surrounded the air around you two and you giggled lightly at how cutely he reacted. As his melody came to a descend, he analyzed your facial expression before saying, “talking to you is so natural, like we didn’t have a long pause on our barely developing friendship. I’ve been waiting to encounter a conversation like this since I got here.”

A strange, inexplicable feeling burned across your chest. Were those the butterflies that you felt so often around a boy you found the slightest potential? Long stares at Jisung’s profile had you admiring his strikingly handsome features. You shook off the unusual thought, “what about your roommate? You two haven’t hit it off yet?”

Jisung shrugged and looked around as if expecting his roommate to be wandering around him. He relaxed and stood by your side to wait for the lecture doors to open with leaving students. “Not exactly. Chenle’s a bit loud, a little weird too. He sleeps on silk pillows with his initials embroidered on them and has fancy cutlery.”

Laughter and more laughter filled the gaps with Jisung. It was the most refreshing feeling to be around, something you never knew you missed. Everyone was too busy being adults or experiencing wild, mature adventures. There was no room for innocence or child’s play. For a brief moment, you forgot about the stress of your future and wanted to bathe in the smiles that Jisung provided.

After the long boring lecture and a whole hour of Jisung performing pen tricks, he practically begged you to walk him to his next class. Given that your schedule was a bit more free today, with the spin of your heels, you were off giving him random tips about surviving his first year.

“Make sure you avoid walking to class through the center of campus on Wednesdays, unless you want to be harassed by clubs.” You cringed remembering the fateful encounter with your orientation leader from your first year, Jeno, that happened not too long ago. And how he still managed to flyer you after catching up.

Jisung did nothing, but nod aggressively to your advice to mentally note them all. He was overwhelmed, in a good way. However, knowing that he had you by his side, it made him feel all the more better. The realization that you two could actually be friends hit him like bricks. He wanted you to be guiding him, teaching him, bettering him.

“Hey homie!” A familiar, taunting voice called after you. You both perked up and watched as your best friend, Jungwoo, danced his way over to you.

You chuckled at your silly friend, “when did you ever call me homie?”

“When I noticed you standing next to a new friend and I don’t want to be too mean by calling you a loser.” Jungwoo’s happy smile bloomed as he stuck his hand out for Jisung to shake. “I’m Jungwoo, 2nd year Chemical Engineering major.”

Jisung stared at his hand, unsure how to even begin at introducing himself to other people. His only instinct was to throw scissors to Jungwoo’s extended palm, like he was playing a game of rock, paper, scissors. Jungwoo erupted with giggles and jumped at his hand being sandwiched between Jisung’s fingers. You, also, laughed at the awkward boy’s action.

“I like him.” Jungwoo patted Jisung’s stiff shoulder, causing Jisung to smile at his statement. “First year?”

“What gave it away?” You asked, eyeing Jisung with a matter of fact attitude.

“The lanyard dangling from his back pocket.” Jungwoo crossed his arms and joined you at your side. Jisung quickly stuffed the rest of his exposed lanyard into his pocket to refrain from being a first year stereotype.

The lecture doors opened with a bustling blast of people pouring out. You gave Jisung a warm touch on his arm, which he blushed unknowingly at. “Welcome to college, Jisung. We’re hanging out tomorrow because I said so.”

It was almost difficult for Jisung to stop smiling around you. He nodded and waved goodbye to both you and Jungwoo. A small thanks was all you heard before he disappeared inside.

Sighing, you and Jungwoo began heading towards any source of food. “Jisung, first year and undeclared major. He’s a family friend of mine.”

“He’s cute. You two look great together.” He winked. You pushed at Jungwoo’s arm playfully to rid any romantic thoughts. Though, it would be an absolute lie you weren’t already having some of your own. Maybe not entirely romantic, but more in a sense that you endearingly cared for him more than you had anticipated.

[armsdealing]

@neotropical​ sent: 10, 12, 15, 18, 26, 26 for Shiro | 28, 31, 36, 40 for Fenrir character development questions / inbox cleaning.

SHIRO.

10. what energizes and drains them most? shiro is introverted. heavy social interaction can drain him really fast, especially inane social interaction like small talk. paradoxically, being idle can also drain him. if he's not sleeping or eating, or reading or using his mind in some fashion, he'd rather be out there in the field, investigating cases and trying to solve them. he's a bit workaholic, and feeling like he's doing nothing worthwhile can affect his mood.

12. how are they bodily expressive? how do they use nonverbal cues such as their posture, stance, eyes, eyebrows, mouths, and hands? he's more expressive than he gives himself credit for, though most emotions tend to be negative, like annoyance or irritation or suspicion, if not outright anger cuz he's grumpy as fuck. he has expressive eyes even in wolf form, and since they are devoid of color the dilatation of the pupils is very clearly visible when he's agitated. body wise, he also goes tense, hackles proverbially raised, fists balled up, mouth pinched into a frown (or flashing fangs), standing tall or slightly crouched as if to lunge. his body language is pretty authoritative, typical of his species. and though like i said most of the emotions can be negative, he's not above showing emotional vulnerability. if he feels moved, he can truly start to cry right then and there (albeit stoically) without carinh, and if he's content/pleased/happy he's not above smiles -- though they are rare.

he's also easy to make blush if flirted with too heavily.  :/

15. what kind of inner life do they have — rich and imaginative? calculating and practical? full of doubts and fears? does it find any sort of outlet in their lives? mostly on the practical side, that's for sure. he tends to be motivated toward concrete goals, and is very good at staying focused. of course, he is not above occasionally daydreaming and losing track of things. this happens especially when not engrossed by something; his mind is full with grief regarding his past, as well as wariness toward the future, and that can lead him into brooding. his main outlet for his thoughts is his job as a social worker and private investigator. he finds it very rewarding that he can put his skillset to good use for the benefit of the community.

18. what kind of person could they become in the future? what are some developmental paths that they could take, (best, worst, most likely?) what would cause them to come to pass, and what consequences might they have? what paths would you especially like to see, and why? best case scenario shiro becomes a more tolerant person of humans, learning to understand and accept the gradations to their morality and that some humans are okay, while also learning to cope with his trauma in a healthy fashion, growing all around more emotionally open. along those lines he also accepts that he can have romantic feelings for someone without negating his sense of purpose and identity as a vigilante slash undercover god dlfkjdkf.

worst case scenario he distances himself more from the warmer side of him and opts to become a cruel and punitive deity that sees things mostly in black and white terms (something he already does to an extent) and doesn't form actual relationships with anybody, opting instead to dedicate himself to slaughtering humans he deems evil. basically it's a regression: going back to the same place where he was before making it to anima city and turning his life around.

both are likely, but of course the most likely is the former one if things go ideally -- like if he has more positive contacts with humans, and if others manage to get through to him emotionally. basically friendship and love will save him.

i'm good with either path tho of course i want to see him become healthier. i'm not opposed to him getting worse before he gets better, because i do love myself some drama.

26. how do they view and feel about relationships, and how might this manifest in how they handle them, if it does? he doesnt have many of them. most are purely incidental and tho they are positive they're not very deep. it's mostly work related or people that leave in his apartment building that he chats with from time to time or like, the owner of the coffee shop he frequents ddfjh. he thinks they are okay but at the same time he feels awkward and doesn't know how to go about them. he feels distant (his past and status as a god play a role no doubt) and even tho occasionally he wants to be closer to people he doesn't know how to even start. he's also a bit of a jerk and that doesn't help.

27. what do they strongly like and dislike, in any category? why? shiro greatly dislikes humans as a result of his past, being a victim of a massacre where all but himself died (purely on incident, since he was beheaded). he thinks they are all an irredeemable and violent bunch who sees his people as lesser. he also doesn't like beastmen that work with humans, seeing them as just as bad as humans too. in a more casual note he does not like the cult that has formed around his person, he thinks it's all a bunch of scammers trying to make money off his image. he wants to do something about it but isn't yet sure what.

he likes seeing anima city prosper and thrive and see beastmen happy; it genuinely warms his heart. and he likes children a lot. he has worked with the city to find many orphaned children better homes. he also has an affinity for boots and sweaters. 😌

FENRIR.

28. what are they likely to do if they have the opportunity, resources, and time to accomplish it? why? i mean if he had the opportunity resources and time odin would be DEAD already dfjgdhjfg prophecy be damned. he would've already put down a lot of asgardians, if not asgard itself. other than that... he's off and on about the idea of forming a legitimate pack. he could do it but it's a risky move considering gods are always cutting him short whenever they think he's getting 'too powerful'. but those things aside he doesn't want for much and he DOES already have the resources and time to do whatever he wants... to an extent.

31. is there anything that counts as a “dealbreaker” for them, positively or negatively? what makes things go smoothly, and what spoils an activity or ruins their day? why? fenrir has a short fuse and on bad days if you get on his nerves he will kill you. i mean he will really just shoot you dead for annoying him if he doesn't feel like acting civil. disrespecting him is a big no-no, he has a low tolerance for idiocy and people who think they can act all insolent around him. if you think you're close enough to get away with that you need to give yourself and ur relationship with him a long hard look because chances are you're wrong. acting like you're better than him/superior to him? dealbreaker. pitying him in any way? also a big dealbreaker. it truly annoys him. he will sooner stop talking to you than entertain your sympathy, even if what he's going through is worthy of it. he doesn't want anything to do with it. other things that can ruin his day is pain flares due to his bound status -- he deals with chronic pain 24/7, and it's the source of most of his bad moods.

as for things that makes situations go smoothly -- if the pain is unusually mild that given day. nice food or drink, or completed jobs, and presence of people he likes (family, or lovers)

36. how much do they rely on their minds and intellect, versus other approaches like relying on instinct, intuition, faith and spirituality, or emotions? what is their opinion on this? fenrir is more instinct and intuition than intellect, but he is by no means dumb. he is hypersensitive and hyperaware of things and is constantly processing amounts of information that would knock out the average human, and acting accordingly to it all. his hunches are usually correct and he's quite capable of analysis and deductive reasoning when necessary -- take for example when he quite correctly guessed that asgardians where trying to trick him with gleipnir. emotions play less of a role when it comes to serious decision making, tho yeah like anybody sometimes he will act purely on passion if its something that affects him to such a degree. he doesn't feel any particular way about it, and is confident in his decision making (perhaps sometimes overconfident but yh y'know, that happens), since it tends to work for him.

40. what do they wonder about? what sparks their curiosity and imagination, and why? how is this expressed, if it is? for a long long time(pre-binding) midgardian culture truly sparked his curiosity. he wanted to learn about humans and how they operated and the things they liked to do. after this curiosity was satiated he doesn't express wonder over many things. he has unanswered questions about the fate of the world and how fate will play out but virtually everyone does. he would rather spend his time in the present than invest a lot of time simply thinking about the future. simply put, he is not an imaginative person. 

[yourdeepestfathoms]

A Bat Loosed From Hell

[UK Tour]

TW: Blood

——————

Joan was home alone when her wings grew in. She had finally gotten a day off, so she decided to just sleep in and relax at the house while everybody else went out. For once, she was happy that they didn’t invite her, because growing a pair of limbs in public wouldn’t exactly be something she could easily live down.

However, she did wish someone had been there with her.

When she heard the front door opening and closing, she began to call out for Maria as loudly as her hoarse voice could manage, since she was too sore to go get the woman. It took a moment, but she eventually heard footsteps approach, followed by her door opening.

The first thing Maria did was gasp upon entering the room. She saw the blood splattered across the walls and ceiling, soaking into the sheets, and then Joan, shivering on top of the messy blankets. Finally, she noticed the wings.

They were stained red, but she could see hints of pure white peeking out ever so slightly.

“Joan!”

Maria rushed over to the bedside and knelt down, stroking some hair out of Joan’s sweaty face. She girl pressed into her touch.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Maria softener her voice, “You...”

“I grew wings,” Joan said. Her voice was weak from screaming. “Did you see them, Maria? I have wings!”

“You do,” Maria chuckled. She reached out a hand and gently glided it through the feathers, making the wing she was touching flutter a little upon contact. “When did this happen?”

“An hour ago, I think,” Joan answered, “My wingbuds started to hurt real bad, but I didn’t want to bother you.” Maria frowned at that, “Then it got worse and worse and...” Her wings flex a little, “And then I had these things.”

The girl was clearly dazed from what she had gone through. She needed rest and to get cleaned up, but they shouldn’t happen in bloody sheets.

“Alright, sweet pea, let’s get you out of that mess, okay?” Maria said, gesturing to the coagulated blood congealing in the blankets. She heard Joan whine softly in protest and added, “It’ll be really quick, okay? Then you can sleep and I’ll give your wings a nice groom.”

Having no other option, Joan agreed. She was mainly limp as Maria pulled her out of the bed and onto the floor to wait. The pianist dozed in and out of consciousness as her sheets and blankets are pulled off to be washed and replaced by temporary ones.

“Hey,” Maria is shaking her shoulder, “Don’t fall asleep here, silly. It probably won’t be too comfortable.”

Joan blinked several times and then crawled back up onto the bed with Maria’s help. She rested her head in the drummer’s lap, snuggling up as close as she could before breathing out a soft sigh of relief.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Maria said.

Joan was asleep within seconds, curled up against Maria as a warm cloth wiped down her feathers and revealed the glory of her new white tern wings. Maria couldn’t help but smile proudly at them.

“Maria?”

Maggie and Bessie are peeking in. Their eyes go wide when they see the wings.

“Woah!” Bessie gasped.

“Joan has wings!” Maggie exclaimed.

“Shh,” Maria hushed them, “Don’t wake her. You can come in, just keep your voices down.”

They both nod and slip inside. Maggie immediately began inspecting the wings in awe, while Bessie holds her hand out to touch. She looks at Maria for permission and pets gently when the drummer nods.

“They’re beautiful,” She murmured, happy for her bandmate. However, Maria doesn’t miss the look of jealousy in her eyes. Her gaze drifts to the bassist’s bare back, and she can understand why.

When Bessie got reincarnated, she was happy to know she wasn’t the only wingless one in the group. Sure, it might have been selfish or rude, but that’s really how she felt. That she wasn’t the only different one there.

However, the difference between her and Joan was that Joan didn’t get hers removed.

Bessie remembered what it was like having wings. Sure, she was a crow and those were looked down upon and nobody really wanted to associate with her, but she loved her wings. She loved flying with them and how soft and glossy the feathers were and how they shimmered in the sunlight. Even if her entire family were colorful, she was perfectly content with her plumage.

Bessie loved her wings.

But, like most things she loved, they were taken away.

Wings, to Catholics and Christians at least, were a sign of purity, good will, gifts from god. They were blessings, they made avians closer to angels, so when someone sinned, naturally, they don’t deserve to have their gifts. For example: The punishment for an affair with a king would be removal.

And that’s just what happened.

Ever since then, Bessie was classified as “flightless”. It was the term used for, well, defective avians. It didn’t matter if you had wings and just couldn’t fly or didn’t have wings at all- if you weren’t airborne, then you were flightless. That simple.

Nobody liked associating themselves with the flightless, so Joan and Bessie felt lucky they got jobs in a big musical production. Especially Joan, who became the music director! Perhaps that was because she had wingbuds extending from her shoulder blades, which were enough for the director to take pity on her. However, Bessie knew she didn’t get that kind of treatment. Not that she blamed them. She was a sinner.

Phantom pains weren’t uncommon. It always felt as if Bessie still had her wings, but, right now, she was sure what she was feeling wasn’t phantom pain. It was just pain.

Its been in her shoulder blades all day long. Every since she woke up that morning, her entire upper felt like it was on fire. It hurt to stand up straight and sit against the seat of the car on the ride to the theater (they wouldn’t HAVE to drive if she just had her wings still...), and she already knew playing her bass wasn’t going to be any better.

And she was right.

Pain. Everywhere. Bessie kept her jaw clenched tightly as she played through Ex-Wives and No Way and Don’t Lose Ur Head, but it was getting worse. Way worse.

Bessie did her best to focus on her bass and the show and those two things alone, but during Heart of Stone, she felt a tearing sensation that was accompanied by a ripping sound and shortly followed by a shriek of pure agony.

Bessie collapses.

Utter shock fills the theater. Everyone is frozen, staring with wide eyes, then Maria is lunging down to Bessie’s side and a stagehand in the wings is scrambling for the curtains. Once they’re closed, everyone backstage is moving, huddling around the fallen form of their bassist.

“What the hell is going on?” Aragon demands, clearly annoyed, “What’s wrong with her?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” Maria snapped back. She softens her voice when she starts to refer to Bessie, “Bessie, darling, can you hear me?”

The girl offers a tiny mumble, but nothing really more comprehensible than that.

“Sweetheart, you gotta tell us what’s-” Maria stops mid-sentence when she placed a hand on Bessie’s back and felt warmth beneath it. When she pulled back, her palm was red.

Blood.

“Get the costume off.” Maria orders immediately and Howard and Cleves both kneel down to help. Cleves unzips the zipper, revealing a bloody mess upon Bessie’s back and the split open, inflamed marks on her shoulder blades.

“What the fuck?” Anne muttered from the side.

“Why isn’t she wearing a bra?” Aragon commented, her nose wrinkling in disgust.

“Why is that the thing you zeroed in on?” Parr asked.

“Seems a little slutty to me, that’s all.” Aragon shrugged.

“Will you shut the fuck up?” Cleves warned, tipping her kestrel wings at the golden eagle. Aragon scowls, but quieted down for the moment.

Howard set a hang on the space between Bessie’s shoulder blades, seemingly feeling for something. She pursed her lips, eyebrows knitting together in concern.

“What?” Maria asked.

“Do you think she’s growing wings?” Howard said.

That made Bessie squeak softly in alarm and Maria quickly hushed her by smoothing out the hair on her head.

“Doesn’t seem impossible,” Parr nodded, “She might be like Joan.”

“Yeah,” Joan agreed.

“It hurts...” Bessie whimpered softly, turning attention back to her, “It hurts... Please, please make it stop...”

“I know it hurts, sweetheart,” Maria murmured sadly, “I know. I’m sorry. There’s nothing we can do until...”

“Until what?” Bessie asked quietly. She looked up at Maria, who is at a loss for words.

“Just try to relax.” Maria said instead. She felt Bessie loosen up a little in her lap and she smiled slightly, “That’s it. There you go... Good girl.”

The silence doesn’t stay for long, however. Bessie’s entire body suddenly shuddered violently and her shoulder blades seemed to flex further from her back until the flesh tore open wider. A shriek of agony ripped out of Bessie’s lips as she flailed and struggled in Maria’s lap, screaming and begging for the pain to end.

All while the others could only watch in horror as twin appendages started to grow out from her flesh before their very eyes.

Wrapped in a sheen of tissue and glistening with fluids, the limbs pushed out from her shoulder blades and into the open air. The one on the left came free easily because of the slippery slick coating it, but the right seemed to be stuck in the gash, which dragged out Bessie’s suffering.

The girl is still screaming bloody murder, kicking the ground and clawing up Maria’s legs. She chokes and sobs as the pain worsened and she slammed her head down into the drummer’s lap.

“It’s stuck!” Cleves yelled.

“Yeah, no shit!” Howard snapped back. “Fuck! Fuck! What do we do?!”

“Get it unstuck!” Parr said.

“I’ll do it.”

Jane was the one to step in to do this. She knelt down on the other side of Bessie and, with a deep breath, grabbed the wing with one hand and stuck her fingers into the gash with the other. This prompted Bessie to scream louder, if that was even possible, pleading with the silver queen to stop, please stop, please, please STOP-

But Jane didn’t.

“Hold her still.” She order in her queen voice, and Anna and Howard obeyed, pinning down Bessie’s arms and legs. Her one free wing was flapping, splattering their faces in blood and god knows what else, but they held strong.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I’m sorry,” Jane said over Bessie’s wailing. She dug and twisted her fingers around in the wound, feeling deteriorated flesh and muscles rub against her skin, but she didn’t let the disgust get to her. She narrowed her eyes and found the place that was caught. It seemed to be...a hook of sorts? But that was impossible... Avian wings were bird-like, there is no way there would be any kind of hooks or frays or snags.

Unless...

Jane swallowed hard in fright. She carefully pulled on the stuck portion, earning pained noises from Bessie, who was somehow still conscious through all of this. She pulled again and, this time, the skin gave way and the wing burst free.

Bessie goes limp in Maria’s lap, breathing heavily. She’s gasping and choking, struggling to get enough air into her burning lungs. The hand that had been stroking through her hair freezes for a moment before continuing its work.

“You did it, sweetheart,” Maria whispered, leaning down to kiss the top of Bessie’s head. “It’s over. You did it.”

“You have wings, liebling!” Cleves exclaimed, grinning widely.

Bessie mumbled something incomprehensible. She raised her head a little to try and look over her shoulder, but pain stopped her and she gave up. A few fresh tears slip out, as the achiness in her back has yet to die down.

“Wings?” She croaked out, eyes squeezed shut.

“That’s right,” Howard brushed some of her tears away, “You have wings, Bessie. They’re going to be so beautiful, sweetie, they are beautiful.”

“I wouldn’t count on that.” Aragon said. Her comment made rage bubble up in Cleves and she snapped her head to the golden queen, teeth gritted.

“What the fuck is your-” The kestrel stops, however, when she notices Jane wiping away some of the slick on Bessie’s right wing with her already-dirty hand.

There...weren’t any feathers.

“Someone get water.” Jane said urgently. “Now!”

Joan shot off of the stage with a beat of her white tern wings, and returns fairly quickly with a cup of water (since they didn’t have any bowls) and a rag. Jane quickly wets the cloth and began cleaning off Bessie’s right wing. When a large portion of blood and fluids was wiped away, Jane gasps, her eyes going wide.

“She...” She stammers, “She’s a bat.”

Anxious looks were exchanged, gasps sounded, even a few queens backed away, as the long-running superstition about bats kept them wry. Aragon narrowed her eyes.

“A bat loosed from hell.” She spat, “Oh, why am I not surprised?” She laughed cruelly, “Of course she would be one of those things!”

“Will you shut it?” Howard hissed, “It’s not that bad. It was a stupid superstition, anyway.”

“Wasn’t Francis a bat?” Aragon crossed her arms.

Howard freezes and then slowly craned her head around to look at the eagle. Her teeth are bared.

“Don’t you fucking dare bring him up,” She seethed. “Bessie isn’t- she isn’t-” Her rage is snuffed out like a candle. Hearing His voice being spoke by someone else wasn’t right. It made her feel like a helpless little fledgling all over again.

“That’s what I thought.” Aragon said. “Bats are horrible and disgusting creatures. Just like her.” She glared at Bessie.

“Don’t talk to her like that!” Cleves snapped.

“I’m not talking to her, Anna, I’m talking about her.” Aragon tutted.

“What’s the fucking difference?! You’re still being a bitch!”

“Can we all please just stop fighting?” Joan tried to reason with everyone, “The audience can-”

“Fuck the audience!” Cleves roared, “Does it look like I care what the hell they think, Joan?!”

Joan flinched and backed away, lowering her head. She decided to just leave the stage, knowing she was going to have to do some damage control for the extended interruption, anyway.

“You don’t care about the audience?” Aragon raised one eyebrow and then laughed harshly, “Oh, you don’t even realize the fallout of this, do you? Not only was the show, which they paid a lot of money to come see, interrupted, but they also got to listen to this thing screaming like a baby.”

“She isn’t a thing.” Howard snarled.

“She is now.”

“Will you shut the fuck up?!” Maria cried. She has finally reached her limit with all of this; her eyes glow like hot coals with her fury. “You have no fucking right treating Bessie like this because YOU’RE the reason she’s now like this! YOU took her wings away! YOU made her flightless! There’s no one to blame but YOU, Catalina, so she your damn mouth and stop acting like you’re the good guy here!”

“Don’t you know what she is, Maria?” Aragon growled, “She’s a bat. Bats eat birds.”

“Yeah, well so do eagles.” Maria challenged. She flexed her own wings, “So do vultures. Doesn’t make her special.”

“You know the stories tied behind those creatures,” Aragon said calmly, keeping her voice level, “You’ve heard them. You know why people hate them. We all hated them.” She turned to leave the stage, but stops for a moment, “Someone once told me to never trust a crow. I should have listened to her back then, but I will now, especially when that crow has turned into a bat.”

With that, she strides off to go help with damage control. Anne, Parr, and Maggie slowly follow, but not without Maggie glancing back for a second. Jane stays behind, busy cleaning Bessie’s wings.

“You don’t have to stay, you know,” Maria said quietly. She was finally hearing the commotion of the audience behind the curtains. She couldn’t even begin to process what they must be thinking.

“Yes, but I’ve already gotten started on grooming her, and who am I to stop?” Jane chuckles. She smiled a little when she felt Bessie’s wing flutter under her touch, “You know, I never understood why everyone hates bats. I mean, sure, I’ll admit that I was wry of them, but what for? Because their wings don’t have feathers?” She shook her head, “It doesn’t make sense.”

Her words hang in the air as she finishes up Bessie’s wings. She smiled at her handiwork, setting the rag to the side.

“There we go.” She said. “Oh my... Would you look at them?”

Despite lacking colorful feathers, Bessie’s wings were still frighteningly beautiful. They were a soft shade of black with dark brown areas here and there and were dappled with pale spots along the inside. The limbs were fuzzy and velvety to the touch, if not a bit bony.

“She has wings,” Howard murmured.

“Yeah,” Cleves said, equally as soft.

“M...Maria?”

Maria looked down, seeing Bessie’s dark eyes staring up at her. She smiled softly.

“Hey, sweetheart,” The drummer said, “How are you feeling?”

“Achy,” Bessie replied, “Catalina’s mad at me, isn’t she?”

“Yes...but what else is new?”

That got the tiniest laugh out of Bessie.

“Let’s get you home, okay? You must be so tired.”

“I am.”

Bessie rolled over and stretched out her wings. It makes her muscles burn, but it also feels good to flex them. She almost smiles, but then she notices the horrified looks on Maria, Cleves, Howard, and Jane’s faces.

“Guys?”

[theemightypen]

"I know it hurts," either Borodred or Farawyn

ur the absolute worst oh my GOD

The rain is coming down in torrential waves, bitingly cold even through the layers of his armor and clothes. And this is considered Spring, in Rohan!

Mercifully, the battle has been over for a few hours. Less fortunate is the constant rain, which has made it difficult to determine who is slumped over from exhaustion and who is in more dire need of help. He may be the highest ranking Gondorian noble present, but he is their captain, and he will leave no man behind if he can help it.

“Captain Boromir!” A familiar voice calls.

“Grimbold,” he answers. “What news?”

The Rohirric commander is pale, worry etched plainly into the lines of his weathered face. “I know you have your own men to attend to, but our healer was gravely injured last week and we had to leave him behind in Snowbourne. There is–we need–”

“Peace, Grimbold,” Boromir interrupts. “We are allies, are we not? Gondor will not deny any man of Rohan aid if he needs it.”

“Thank Bema for that,” the older man says. “It is the Prince.”

The bitter cold of the rain abruptly pales in comparison at the ice that slides into his stomach.

Theodred!

But he is the Captain of the White Tower, Gondor’s greatest defender, his father’s pride. He cannot react any differently now than he would for any other ally.

“Istuiben!” Boromir calls.

The healer’s head emerges from a nearby tent. “My lord?”

“Prince Theodred has need of you,” he says, willing his voice to remain as commanding, as powerful, as even as usual. “Can you be spared?”

“For the Prince? Aye,” Istuiben answers.

It takes a few minutes, during which the rain slows, before he reappears, his kit in hand. Grimbold has been pacing nervously in the interim, which is doing nothing for Boromir’s nerves. As soon as Istuiben has joined them, they’re off, in the direction of Rohan’s encampment. Boromir’s poor page–just a lad, really, with no business being here at all–trails along after them.

“Thranor,” Boromir says, catching the boy’s shoulder as he tries to follow Grimbold and Istuiben into the tent. “Go back to my tent. Get yourself dry.”

“I will not leave you, my lord,” he says, stubbornly. “Lord Denethor told me not to.”

Boromir squeezes his eyes shut for a moment. Curses his father’s damnable pride.

“I am not likely to be attacked in Prince Theodred’s tent,” he says gently.

As if to prove the opposite, there is a pained shout from inside. The boy’s eyes widen and he grips the pommel of his sword, as he can protect Boromir from the scene that awaits him within.

Poor lad, Boromir thinks, reminded painfully of Faramir and all of his kindness, no one can keep me from this.

“Go on, now,” he orders. “There are some things boys should not have to see. Not even very brave ones.”

He waits until Thranor has been met by one of his other guards before turning back to face the tent. He steels himself, just for a moment, before going inside. Surely even he is allowed a moment, just one, of weakness.

The sight that greets him is one he has seen before. Bloodied rags, the worried faces of soldiers and friends, a body in a bed.

It is not the same, a voice in his head whispers, it is not the same at all.

Of course it isn’t. How can it be, when it is Theodred who blinks up at him with pained eyes? Theodred, who he has never seen so pale. Theodred, who very well could be dying, out here in the muck, so far from home?

“Come to gloat?” Theodred asks, voice pinched with pain. “I am sure the mighty Boromir would never be so foolish as to get himself shot by a Uruk’s arrow.”

Worry is replaced with irritation. Of course he would try to tease, try to lessen the agony he must be in. For his men. For Boromir.

“The mighty Boromir is of half a mind to throttle the Crown Prince of the Mark for acting as if he is fine. I know it hurts,” Boromir growls. He turns his attention to Istuiben. “How bad?”

“Not the worst I have seen,” the healer confirms. “Though getting the arrow back out is only half the battle. There is a chance it could be poisoned, my lord.”

Panic flares, icy cold again, in Boromir’s gut. But Istuiben is no green youth. Theodred is in the best hands he possibly can be, at the moment.

“What do you require?”

“Boiled water, if we can get it. And men with strong stomachs. It’s likely I’ll have to cauterize the wound.”

From the corner of his eye, Boromir can see any remaining color drain from Theodred’s face. He has a powerful fear of fire–has since he was a child, and had witnessed an entire village burnt by Dunlendings–but there is no other option to staunch bleeding as quickly.

Grimbold barks something in Rohirric at the soldiers, who hurry out of the tent with purpose. Boromir drifts closer to where Theodred rests. His eyes are closed now, head leaned back against the pillows of his makeshift bed. The arrow protrudes from the front of his shoulder, conspicuous against the otherwise pale skin. They’d clearly had to cut his armor off of him. It had been a gift from his father, years ago now, and Boromir knows the loss must pain him.

Theodred’s eyes flutter open and he manages a half-hearted smile. “Don’t fret so, mðdleóf,” he says, words slurring with pain and weariness, “m’not so fragile as all that.”

Boromir can feel heat creeping up the back of his neck–Theodred would usually never be so careless as to call him beloved where someone might hear, but neither Grimbold nor Istuiben show any sign of having heard anything.

“Fragile, no,” he agrees, settling down on the available stool beside the cot, “foolish, yes. Valar, Theodred, what were you thinking?”

“Thought th’bastard was aimin’ at you and that flashy Gondorian armor of yours,” Theodred slurs. “Youd’ve done th’same.”

Boromir pinches the bridge of his nose, torn between a wave a damnably powerful fondness and extreme exasperation. “That ‘flashy Gondorian armor’ of mine would have protected me from that arrow, you idiot.”

Theodred grins. “Can’t have it doin’ m’job for me, Boromir.”

Elbereth, what is he supposed to say to that? He loses his opportunity, anyways, because the have returned, cauldrons of boiling water on hand. Istuiben approaches, looking cautious.

“Here, Prince,” he says, holding out a wooden spoon. “You may want this.”

Theodred grimaces, all earlier mirth forgotten, and bites down. The rest of the night is a blur for him, from what he says in the days after.

It is not so for Boromir. It may, in fact, be one of the longest nights of his life.

He jolts awake the next morning. Theodred’s hand is as tight in his now as it had been hours previously, when they’d had to seal the arrow-wound with the fire-hot piece of metal. The noise he’d made had been beyond pain, beyond shock. Boromir had wanted to storm out into the wilderness and find the Uruk who had done this, who had caused Theodred such pain–

But his hand had held him fast. As he suspects it always would.

Theodred’s face is mercifully slack with sleep, with none of last night’s pain or fear to be found. There are strands of grey, now, threaded through the dark blonde of his hair. Wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, the bridge of his nose. Boromir knows his own face carries the same marks of the passage of time. They are neither of them the young, foolish boys that had met in Dol Amroth, all those years ago.

Theodred shifts in his sleep. Murmurs something familiar, something fond.

Time changes so many things, Boromir thinks, unable to keep himself from dragging his thumb over Theodred’s, and so little, all at once.

“We thought it best not to disturb you,” murmurs Istuiben, startling him out of his peaceful–and horribly ill-timed–show of affection. “No one wanted to risk your wrath by being the one to pry you from the Prince’s side.”

Boromir lifts his head to meet the older man’s knowing gaze. Shame spikes in his gut, followed by guilt, and swiftly after, anger. Elbereth, he is so tired of feeling this way, of hiding something that is so important to him, that feels so natural–

“Peace, Boromir,” Istuiben says, clearly reading his expression. “There’s not a man among us, Gondorian or Rohir, who would deny either of you your happiness. Nor would we deny you your privacy.”

His meaning is clear: that they have not been as secretive as Boromir has always thought, and that their men will not breathe a word of this. To anyone, but in particular not to either of their fathers. The gratitude he feels is nigh overwhelming, but–

“I–we cannot ask you to lie–”

Istuiben gives him a stern look. “You have not asked. We have chosen, all on our own, to protect you, as you have so often shielded us.”

“Istuiben–”

The older man sighs, though his expression softens into fondness. “For once in your life, Captain, let someone else be noble for once.”

“Here, here,” breathes Theodred, who was apparently not as asleep as he had appeared. “It’s a damned nuisance, always trying to live up to you being so self-sacrificing–”

“Says the man who got himself shot on my behalf,” Boromir grumbles. The tone rings false, as he is too relieved to see Theodred awake to properly feign irritation. “How do you feel?”

Theodred gives him a lopsided smile that, as ever, makes Boromir’s heart turnover in his chest. “With you beside me? Never better.”

(“He thought we didn’t know?” Grimbold asks, expression torn between disbelief and amusement. “Bema above, they are the most unsubtle–the most obvious–”

“Yes, well,” Istuiben chuckles. “I think it best if we do not tell them that, Commander.”)

[thegreatpikminzx789]

In the Deepest Darkness - Chapter 3: With Morning Regrets, Comes A Future To A New Hand

Wattpad|Archive of Our Own|Fanfiction.Net (Will update when it becomes available)

Before we begin, I've been wanting to start the battle with Ur-Devil on this part, but I decided against swapping back between two different perspectives in the same chapter for this one in particular. The way I had the draft was gonna end up in a cliffhanger if I had left it as is, so instead, this happened. We'll get to Ur-Devil's fight soon.

Also, I probably SHOULD’VE been done with this story sooner than later, but once again, life has been a pain in the time I’ve had to update this. Slow and steady wins the race, so I’ll get around to finishing the next few chapters soon. It’s also probably one of the longest chapters I’ve written, which was a nice change of pace.

Shen, Lynus, Macerio, Magnus, Axel, Hamza, and Tobyn belong to @theshatteredrose. It’s been some time since I written anything with these characters, so I hope I still did well.

The sunrise slowly crept in like a wild animal upon Lagaard. While some members of the Gungnir Guild were getting ready to head out, Korey glanced at the ring that was on his ring finger, looking at a rare gem from the world he came from, still polished and radiating it's shine as the sun gleamed onto it. But even as he was looking at it, Korey had to question why he was still worried?

Was it fear, or a natural sense that this might be a dangerous quest second to only the one back on his world? If only his beloved was by his side to keep him company, he wouldn't be this worried.

"No... bidding my time in wait isn't going to do any good. I must remain vigilant of the task ahead of us." The Highlander uttered to himself, as he grabbed his equipment and trusty spear, before catching up with the others in the inn's main lobby. As they were walking towards Yggdrasil, a familiar voice called out to the guild, as Korey shifted his attention to the blue haired Ronin he and Fafnir ran into a few days ago.

"My apologies for the short preparation, everyone. The wait to get my revenge against the Ur-Devil was getting on my nerves." He admitted, being rather quick with an apology this soon. Bertrand simply dismissed the apology.

"Don't mention it. We've been kinda busy training ourselves, so the sooner we face this thing, the less of a problem it will be for Lagaard." Bertrand said as he flexed his arm to make sure it was well ready for the upcoming battle.

"Indeed. By the way, did you get enough Apple Matcha Shaved Ice?"

"Yep. Plenty enough for all of us." Ricky confirmed, showing the Ronin a basket containing the Shaved Ice in question.

"Though, why did you ask us to bring food?" Chloe couldn't help but inquire, seeing as out of the entirety of their trips to Yggdrasil or Ginnungagap, they really hadn't used the cafe to it's fullest, other than being a secondary place to eat on occasion. Shen placed a hand on his hip, motioning the guild to follow him as he explained himself.

"There's a reason I have for asked that specific food. During my solo attempt, I threw some blinding gas at it, and its attacks have been missing me to the point I was able to escape the battle with the injuries I have. From what I read yesterday from visiting that cafe, these Shaved Ices will make it even harder for the enemy to hit us, much like the blinding gas. This Ur-Devil really seems to be weak to being blind, despite not being able to see."

"Oh, that's rather interesting, Mr. Shen!" Arianna commented, surprised to know the Ronin they're working with did some research.

"But I still ponder why you ask us to come early in the morning?" Korey questioned, looking over at the sky and noticing that the sun was still rising. As they arrived to the stairs next to Yggdrasil, Shen turned to face the Highlander.

"I didn't want to rush everyone to eat the Shaved Ice before we enter the labyrinth. It's also to give us some time for the effect to take place. Plus, I kinda do need to explain why I found out about this floor in particular-"

"Oh, no need to concern yourself with that, Shen." A female voice intervened the conversation, causing the guild and Shen to face the origin of the voice; seeing Lady Gradriel approaching them.

"Ah, Lady Gradriel! N-Nice morning, isn't it?" Flavio stumbled, getting a quick glance from Fafnir, before looking back to Gradriel. "It is indeed, Flavio." She replied, as she and Arianna greeted each other, the later of which, turned to Shen.

"Gradriel requested us to come to her yesterday, and she filled us in on the details."

"...I see. Why don't you go ahead and tell them why I'm wrapped up in this particular quest?" Shen hummed to himself, letting Gradriel take the wheel on Shen's explanation.

"You see, when Shen showed up to talk about the request at first, I was skeptical about him going in alone. I told him that you guys would be better at taking my request, but it seemed he was just that determined." She began, scratching the back of her head as if she was confused about a solo mission for the quest she set out in particular.

"Though thanks to Shen's findings, we now know the dangers this Ur-Child possesses. I still want you all to be careful and to come back alive. I don't want to risk losing you all just to face this thing, but who knows what it can do otherwise... Lagaard cannot survive against something like this." She continued, expressing great concern for the explorers before her that were tasked to defeat the Ur-Devil.

"We will do our best, Lady Gradriel." Shen acknowledged, as Arianna soon added her own two cents on Gradriel's concern, "And we'll be victorious!"

"Just don't go worrying on us all day..." The small War Magus commented, leaving Gradriel to chuckcle to herself. "I'll try not to. Anyways, I got business to attend to. I wish you good luck, members of the Gungnir and Guardian Guilds."

Much like her sudden appearance, Gradriel leaves without hesitation, leaving the Guild and Ronin mere steps away from the Geo Magnetic Pole that will lead them to the thirty-first floor. "So, are we gonna get started or not?" Bertrand sighed, wanting to get this over with. Other explorers would think of him to be an impatient type, but that wasn't his concern for the time being.

"Yes... The Shaved Ices, if you please." Shen politely asked to Ricky, as the blonde haired girl places down the basket and starts passing out the Shaved Ices to everyone, making sure to get one for herself as well, wasting no time but to dig into the food that's brought to them.

"...Wow, who knew ice can be flavored to be sweet?" Fafnir commented, as Flavio chimed in shortly afterward. "Doesn't help when it becomes rather bitter as it goes on- Aaaaagh!"

Flavio felt like his tongue was on fire, trying to jab the cold parts of the Shaved Ice on his tongue in an attempt to cool it down. "That means the bitter sauce is doing its job." Chloe sighed, before taking another bite into her Shaved Ice.

Korey, however, had to take it a bit slow because the change between cold and bitter felt too sudden to him. "I don't usually enjoy eating bitter stuff, but if it'll help us in the long run, then I'll have to eat it all!" He declared, as Bertrand gulped down the food he had in his mouth.

"Well, this could potentially be our last meal together, but I don't want to get sentimental on you all. Not when we got a job to do." Although Bertrand didn't notice it himself, Korey felt like he was kind of was being sentimental, despite the tone of voice he had.

"Right. We came this far, so giving up isn't an option anymore." Arianna declared, as Ricky nodded in agreement. "I'll protect the world I've been sent to look over, no matter what the cost is." She added, remembering her duty and reason why she was here.

"And we'll make sure that Lagaard doesn't suffer from the Ur-Devil's presence." Shen concluded, clenching his free hand as he glanced at the Geo Magnetic Pole. Once they step through there, there is no return...

But regardless of how Shen felt, someone out there was questioning his motives for sneaking out in the morning...

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

"What do you mean Shen snuck out when nobody was around?!"

Axel wasn't in a great mood, hearing that Shen snuck out in the morning. Magnus and Hamza where there, with him, as Magnus was the first to bring attention to the missing guild-member to Axel and their guild leader.

"He clearly told Lynus that all of us would take down the Ur-Devil, but I didn't expect him to just up and disappear in the morning! What the hell is up with him?!" The Alchemist retorted, pacing back and forth as he did so.

"Must have been taking lessons from Rahas." The black haired War Magus suggested, scratching his the back of his head. "What, through the window?" Magnus replied in confusion.

"I mean, that's a possibility. What'd you expect, other than for him to sneakily hope none of us were down here in order for him to escape?" Hamza responded, as the blonde Alchemist took a few seconds to consider the possibility.

"Well, that's true... Ugh, never mind, we got to go after him! I refuse to have him die on me again!" Shaking aside his concerns, Magnus focused on what they needed to do- chase down Shen, and help him before it was too late.

"We will, Magnus. We just need to finish our trip for preparations. Lynus just came back after a bit of shopping, so once we're stocked on Medica's and Amrita's, we'll head out. I know how protective you can be of Shen, but if he's with this Gungnir Guild, they should be fine until we get there..." Axel reassured the Alchemist to the best of his ability. He's not Lynus, but he's still his friend, anything to keep him calm will help in the long run.

"For how long would depend on their strategy... Cause while we don't have a clear idea of what we're up against, Shen does." Hamza added, which was the main reason why preparation took longer to begin with.

"We still must be careful of the floor itself, too. We're not sure what kind of FOE's could linger there." The red haired landsknecht continued, reminding Magnus and Hamza to keep up their guard. Magnus looks toward Yggdrasil, placing his right hand on his chest, and letting out a deep sigh.

"I hope we're not too late..."

"I'll go help Lynus with preparations. We'll head to the Yggdrasil when we're ready." Axel concluded, as he heads out of the room, with Hamza following behind him before turning to Magnus and calling out to him.

"You coming, Magnus?"

Magnus turns his head to face Hamza in silence, before giving a nod to him. "...Yeah. I'm coming." With a confirmation out of the way, Hamza continued to follow Axel, as Magnus grabbed his things and headed towards the door, before looking back at the room behind him one more time.

Was this battle worth the risk to save someone he cared for? Definitely. After all, if it was coming from Shen's own mouth, that Ur-Devil shouldn't be taken lightly. Shen needs him by his side as much as Magnus needed to be by him.

He lets out a deep sigh, grabbing the door handle and closing the door, steeling himself for the toughest battle of his- no, perhaps the toughest the Guardian Guild will come face-to-face with in the entirety of their journey through Yggdrasil. He was regretting not being able to stop Shen earlier, but his focus on saving him was more than enough to keep his regret off his mind.

"Some blind gas never hurts in case Tobyn's Blind Arrows aren't enough..." Macerio's voice brought Magnus' attention to the table, where Macerio and Axel are helping Lynus with his preparations. Tobyn was currently flexing his bow string to make sure it was still usable.

"Trust me, if this Ur-Devil thing is capable of seeing anything, I'll make sure a thousand blinding arrows will keep it distracted." Tobyn attempted to assure everyone, feeling his arrows will be more than sufficient than using a dark gas contained in a bottle. Although Magnus surveyed the room hundreds of times, there wasn't a sign of Hamza anywhere.

"Hey, Tobyn, do you know where Hamza went?" He couldn't help but ask the Survivalist, who looked away from his weapon to the Alchemist and sat up. "He said he wanted us to eat something that he found on one of Shen's notes, so we're just waiting for him to get back with it." The blonde man replied, scratching his cheek as he continued his inspection of his bow.

"Something...? Like what?"

"Something called Apple Mocha Shaved Ice. I don't get why he would want us to have something that sounds like it'd be for a desert, but he said that eating it can help me pull off blinds more often." Tobyn explained, as Magnus took a seat beside him.

"Then, once we eat it, the effect would take place?"

Sheesh, even when Tobyn was trying to prepare himself, Magnus sure was talkative today, especially when his love interest is putting himself in danger. But, seeing as he was wanting to talk, it would be a shame to leave him hanging with a question like that.

"I assume so. That cafe has some strange recipes that give off effects to explorers. To others, it's merely food. It's not my place to assume the cook behind the recipe if it's going to give us a benefit." Tobyn assured him, placing his weapon beside him when he was finished, adjusting his scarf whenever needed.

"That does it for preparations." Lynus declared, closing his bag and placing it over his head onto his shoulders. Macerio sighed, as he looked towards the inn's door, hoping Hamza would show up.

"Even if we manage to take this thing down, who knows if it will be back like the other monsters?" The gunner couldn't help but ask, getting Lynus' attention unintentionally. "We won't know until we face it ourselves. That's the best we can do, right Axel?"

"Yeah. We'll show it just how strong the Guardian Guild really is." Axel concurred, smiling and giving Lynus a pat on the shoulder, followed by a kiss on the cheek. "And I'll be there to protect you should it even get a thought about hurting you." He added, as the orange haired medic couldn't help but chuckle as his face grew as red as a tomato.

As if one last note played on a song at the last second, the door finally opened, and Hamza came in holding two Shaved Ice Tobyn mentioned to Magnus earlier. Though following behind him was a rather unusual guest they had not seen before- a girl with green hair, mixed with red end streaks, red eyes and white skin, along with a grass-like dress of a female Sovereign and brown boots. She was holding the rest of the Shaved Ice that Hamza was unable to carry himself.

"Uhh, Hamza, what's with the girl following behind you?" Axel questioned as Hamza placed the Shaved Ices on the table. "She's very different from all the other explorers we've seen..." Lynus added, as the girl in question followed Hamza in placing the food on the table before looking to the medic.

"Thou hasn't seen a Forest Folk before, human?" She inquired, turning to face him, grabbing her dress and bowing before him. "Thou may call me Hibiki, princess of the Forest Folk." She began, seeming to act very formal to Lynus, despite the two having not met each other before.

Lynus thought it was a strange way to introduce themselves, but he sensed that she was a pure heart, and gave his traditional heart warming smile. "Nice to meet you, Hibiki. I'm Lynus, the Guardian Guild's medic." He responded with an introduction of his own, as she stood up afterwards to greet the others, who were short but brief with their introductions.

"So uh, Hibiki, why did you help our guild leader just now?" Magnus asked, as Hibiki turned to face the Alchemist. "Thy leader simply needed assistance, is all." Hibiki began, as she started walking towards the door.

"As for thy friend, he has reached the thirty-first floor with the Gungnir Guild. I suggest thou should hurry before the deepest darkness swallows not only the blue-haired Ronin and the Gungnir Guild, but the world we all live in." She added, as her hand touched the door handle before she was stopped by Lynus.

"Hey... If you're so inclined to tell us this, why won't you help us?" She turned to face the orange haired medic that approached her. Her hand clenched tightly on the door handle.

"...I'm afraid."

"Afraid of what?" Lynus politely asked, sensing that the Forest Sovereign was tearing up a little inside. Nosy as it might be, if he can quench her fear, she might have a better outlook for her life.

"...Afraid of being betrayed. Betrayed, punished and abused by thy kind for the simple reason for existing." A silent gasp came from Lynus' mouth.

"So... is that why you're attempting to leave? To remain hidden?" Lynus inquired, getting the girl to finally turn to face him, silently giving a nod as her answer.

"I hate to be a burden to thy guild, or to anyone. To become a burden, thy must leave thou future to the winds. That's what those stubborn parents of mine constantly reminded me, regardless of what I did." Hibiki continued, feeling her grasp on the door lessen as she felt tears stream down her face, trying to hold them back, but she felt Lynus' hand stop her from wiping it away as her eyes came face-to-face with his.

"I know it may be hard for me to fully understand, Hibiki, but you're no burden. I know you're someone who is capable of doing more than hiding from their past. You just need to step out of your past- forget those abusive memories and forge new memories." Lynus began, bringing her back inside to the lobby.

"He's gone full parental mode, now." Magnus commented, as Axel simply scratched the back his head, chuckling to himself. "Lynus is a very caring person, so I can't say we didn't see this coming." The red haired landskecht remarked, looking onward at the scene before him as he took a bite of the Shaved Ice beside him, urging Magnus, Tobyn, and Macerio to eat up before they head out.

"Does thou think Korey will understand? I have not spoken with him about my own past, but-" Hibiki was interrupted by the caring medic standing before her. "I'm sure he'll understand as much as I will. You have a bright future just waiting for you, Hibiki. It's not too late."

Something about Lynus' words rung true. Although she was able to fend off one attack from an angry Sovereign once before, she barely had the need to fight within the labyrinth, cause she blended in well on the first stratum... Such calm and soothing words he spoke.

"If I can have a happy life being with the ones I care and love for, wouldn't you do the same?"

Hibiki blinked and looked at the other guild members that were in the lobby, noticing Axel's warm, smiling face as he overlooks Lynus before turning his attention to Hamza and discussing a strategy. Hearing the conversations of Magnus' care for Shen, and the reassurance from Macerio and Tobyn were simple enough for the Forest Sovereign to understand. "I suppose... thou art correct." She sighed, wiping away her tears as her attention turned back to Lynus.

"Lynus... Please, allow me to assist thy guild for the upcoming battle. I cannot hide myself anymore, and wish to ask for thy assistance to become an explorer." She confessed, closing her eyes as if in shame of the future she did not attain before.

Lynus patted her shoulder in reassurance. "We'll come across that bridge some other time, Hibiki. But thank you for letting me hear you out." He sighed, as he started making his way over to the table, before turning to Hibiki.

"Are you coming? We'll be leaving soon after we eat." He asked, as Hibiki stood up from where she knelt and looked at Lynus, as he saw her scarlet eyes, ablaze with hope and determination. "...Coming." She finally replied, a smile now forming on her face as she followed Lynus to the table.

The hour of battle comes nearer... In the highest reach of Yggdrasil.

[huangels]

i won't let you down - mark

request: Can I request a Mark fluff? I just really need some fluff and maybe some humor too because I’ve been having the worst week. Thank you (◕ᴗ ◕✿)

a/n: aww i hope you’re ok!! and i hope this helps you or cheers you up !?? (also i think i’ve seen this idea in a show or something but i thought it’s cute and funny?) (also pt2 sorry if this pic seems a lil rushed, i tried to write it before my class lol) (also pt3 sorry for any typos or mistakes :p)

summary: The most popular boy in school, Mark, takes interest in you and decides to confess after years of admiration. Though, the way he confesses can use a little more work. 

genre: fluff, humor

warnings: none

word count: 2.2k

You fidget around with the metal lock of your school locker while explaining to your best friend about a math assignment for your next class.

"So, you basically just cancel out the x and then add-. Hey! Are you even listening to me?" you say putting your books away into the now opened locker, but see that your best friend is staring at the direction of the entrance of your school. You then notice that everyone else in the hallway is also looking in the same direction. They all seem to be gawking at someone, girls whispering and giggling to each other. Curious, you look as well and see a boy walking down the hall overflowing with confidence, a smirk plastered on his golden face.

"Oh my god, he's gorgeous," you hear a group of girls say, waving at the boy as he strolls past them. He doesn't wave back but shoots them a quick wink before continuing down the hall.  

"Y/N! Look at him! Mark is such a god, I swear he gets more and more attractive each day," your best friend blabbers on, shaking your shoulders rapidly. With a "tsk," you brush off her hands but don't respond, taking out your math book before slamming the locker door closed.

Math is near the entrance of the school, which means that you have to walk pass Mark. Without waiting for your friend, you walk towards him, yet avoiding his gaze. Everyone else in the hallway is frozen, you two being the only things in motion. Right as you walk past Mark, you meet his daring brown eyes for a split second. He expects you to stop as he turns toward your direction, but you quickly break the eye contact and continue walking to class.

As can be clearly seen, Mark is the most popular and attractive student in your high school. Although he is really good looking and all, you can't see why everyone fangirls over him as if he is some idol. You don't care much for time-wasting high school relationships or drama anyway. You'd much rather focus on graduating high school, applying for multiple scholarships to your dream university, attending said dream university, so you can just live a wealthy and plentiful life with ease. Though, with this mindset, your friends call you the 'nerd'. You roll your eyes and shake your head free from the thought.

Having math first thing in the morning is always a pain in the butt. You slouch in your seat, hand under your chin, as you stare off into space. The teacher babbles on about derivatives and integrals, but you tune it out, toying with your pencil. Your mind wanders with its freedom from not paying attention to the lecture. For some odd reason, it wanders to Mark, who isn't even in your current class.

Mark and you have been attending the same schools ever since the first grade, along with many other people of course, since you all live in a small town. You do have to admit Mark has grown up beautifully throughout his years you've known him, with curly hazelnut hair, thick eyebrows, large eyes, and chiseled features. It would not come to a shock if Mark actually does become an idol somehow. He does already have what seems like fans surrounding him anyway.

Over the 12 years of school with Mark, you both have crossed paths more than you would like to admit. Mark is always outgoing in a way where he wants to befriend everyone, at least that was what it was like when he was young. During your first few years of school, you and Mark were close friends, but not to the point of hanging out outside of school though. It was after Mark started gaining more friends and becoming popular that you slowly distanced yourself, not wanting to share the spotlight, or even be in it at all. For years, Mark still talks to you, but now in a teasing and sometimes insulting way. It seems as if he became more arrogant with the on growing fans that he has. It annoys you every time he would stop you in the hallways or in class just to point out that your hair is a mess or your school uniform isn't tucked in all the way. It makes you feel uncomfortable and slightly irritated so you try not to cross paths with him in school.

Soon, lunchtime rolls around as you get pulled back into reality, away from your thoughts. You make your way to the end of the lunch line in the large cafeteria, looking over the heads of students to see how long the line is. There are many people already waiting and you question yourself how they got here so quickly. Then, people start lining up behind you as well. The line moves slowly, but eventually, you reach where the food is being distributed.

You grab a plastic tray and start packing the school food onto your platter. Your school, surprisingly, has many varieties of foods to choose from and they don't taste that bad either. Your glad because your stomach grumbles in anticipation of food.

You reach for an apple but see another hand reach for the same apple. Your palm lands on the red fruit first. Both of the hands touch as you look up to see who it is. Mark stares back down at you, his mouth is slightly opened and a dazed expression spread upon his face. You quietly cough, causing him shake his head before retreating his hand from its position on top of yours.

You pick up the apple and place it on his tray as you glance up at Mark, flashing a small smile.

"T-thanks," Mark stutters before you continue forward in the line. I thought he was the almighty most popular guy in school? You silently chuckle, facing the front of the line.

Shortly, you reach the register at the front of the line. You're about to pull out your wallet from your backpack until a hand, that's holding a credit card, reaches past you. The lunch woman hesitantly takes it and swipes before you can say anything, then hands it back to the owner. You whip your head around to find Mark taking back his card and putting it away in his wallet.

A small "Uhh" is all that comes out of your mouth.

"Don't worry about it," Mark coolly remarks before winking. He quickly pays for himself and leaves the line, heading towards the lunch tables. You regain all your senses before bowing your head to the lunch lady and making your way to your own seat, heart rate racing unknowingly.

"Hey Y/N, what's up?" your friend asks as you sit down with a blank expression. You sigh and stretch your arms over your head once you set your tray onto the crowded table filled with different lunch foods.

"Nothing much, boys are just...weird," you answer, plopping a spoonful of macaroni and cheese in your mouth. Your friends 'oooo's' and smirks at you.

"Someone has a crush," one of them sings teasingly, with a wiggle of an eyebrow. You roll your eyes but unconsciously bite your lips.

"No, you douche baguette," you say stuffing more macaroni in your mouth, not wanting to have to further think about it. "I said they're weird, not 'I want to make out with every single one of them'."

Your friends laugh as a couple of them elbow each other with the 'yeah right' face. You kick them under the table and continue with your lunch, ignoring their stupid comments.

As your friends instantly move on from the topic, now chattering about some music artist, you're left quietly eating your lunch, with different thoughts ramming around in your head that you don't quite understand, or want. For some reason, you're curious as to where Mark sits during lunch since you've never paid much attention to him. You look up and scan the school courtyard. All the students are huddled in their own cliques and friends groups. You spot who you assume are Mark's friends, but he isn't with them. He's probably off somewhere flirting with other girls or buying their lunches too, you scoff.

After everyone finishes lunch, the class bell rings. You stop by your locker to grab your textbooks but pause when you see some roses sticking out of the little slit openings on your locker. You look around the hallway with scrunched eyebrows, but everyone else is either walking to class or minding their own business. This is my locker right? I mean I did forget once and tried to open someone else's locker.

You slowly approach your locker, as if someone will pop out and yell, "It's a prank bro!"

Warily, you collect the few roses and examine them. Nothing that seems like it can kill me, that's good...

You let out a short breath before opening your locker. A folded up note lays on top of your textbooks. Your head tilts to the side as you place the roses down to grab the note. It's a simple note, written on a ripped off piece of loose leave paper from some notebook. You unfold it and start reading.

To the beuatiful, Y/N:

Im writing this note to explain to you how I feel (at least Ill try) I am starting to fall for you and it is driving me crazy becuz I cant seem to tell u how I really feel, It might seem weird but you've just caught my eye ever since the begining. Im starting to develope stronge feelings towards you, and I dont know why

I love you're eyes, you're smile, you're hair, and your laugh! When I here your voice my heart skips a beet.

I need to kno how u feel about me? Could you posibbly feel the same towards me? or can this never be? I just want u too be mine. I want to be able too say that ur mine girl. Well now you know that I am secretly falling in love with you. I just wish I could hear those same words from u. Maybe one day I will but until than I guess all I can do is wait. Please, dont make me wait to long!

Love,

Mark :D

You scrunch your eyebrows at all of the errors. This kid...

The late bell rings as you fold back the note before you have any time to criticize it and head to class.

The last class of the day is reading and you guys don't do much in the class. The teacher gives the class 'free time' to do other homework or start reading the book we're assigned to. You try to focus on reading the book, but all that crosses your mind is the confession letter Mark gave you. He seems so cool, how can he look like such dumbass and make so many errors? What does he learn in school? Nothing apparently...

You take out a red pen and start writing on Mark's note.

The final school bell sounds as you pack up your bag and set out to find Mark, folded note in hand. It doesn't take you long to find him since he's waiting for you right outside your classroom door. You almost run into him. Mark flashes a smile before pulling you aside by your wrist, away from the door as students are exiting to go home. He has the biggest look of anticipation on his face, eyes wide and lips spread from side to side. Without saying a word, you hand him back the folded note. He raises an eyebrow but takes it and starts reading. A long sigh escapes his mouth.

"I gave you the most heartfelt and sincere love letter, but you returned it to me with spelling and punctuation corrections?!" he exclaims, looking down at me with an unimpressed expression.

"How heartfelt and sincere is it really if you didn't even proofread," you mock with your arms crossed over the blazer of your school uniform, a smile teasing your lips.

"Well, I wrote it quickly because I had to run to the convenience store down the street to buy roses and I had to put them all in your locker before lunch ended," he explains, face falling for a split second. He averts his attention to the floor, leg bouncing hastily.

A small grin grows on your face as you say, "What do you do in your classes, dummy? You should be paying attention or something. I couldn't take it seriously with all the errors."

Mark bites down on the sides of his cheeks as they hollow out.

"However, I will let you redeem yourself...with a date," you say with a big smile. Mark quickly looks up at you, his face gleams and he smiles brightly.

"I won't let you down!" Mark replies as he jokingly salutes to you.

x

["Y/N? What are you doing here so early?" Mark asks, opening the front door to his home, still in his baby blue lion pajamas. He rubs his sleepy eyes as the harsh sunrays beam from the opened door. You step in and close it before Mark can further complain about the brightness.

"I'm here to tutor you because you seriously need it."]

[angstmatsuscenarios]

Hi! I love ur angst!!! So good! Could u please write a scenario where Karamatsu gets badly hurt by saving his one of his brothers and the brother who was saved feels rlly bad and worried. (like in a car accident or something) thanks u very much!! Sorry for my bad english. >.

Thank you so much! Funny you should ask this…I’ve actually had this fic idea in mind for ages and just never wrote it out until now, so hopefully you like it. 

Warning for car accidents and mention of blood and injuries under the cut:

“Karamatsu, come on! Let’s go already, before I leave without you,” Todomatsu huffed impatiently, tapping his foot as he waited by the front door. “Mom’s gonna be mad if we don’t get what she needs from the store soon.”

“Right, right! On my way!” Karamatsu took the stairs two at a time, hastily pulling his hoodie over his head. He’s always like a puppy when anyone asks him to do something with him, Todomatsu couldn’t help but think. Always so eager to get going. It’s so silly…but I guess it could be worse. At least he’s wearing normal clothes and not that ridiculous leather jacket, or those stupid sequin-covered jeans…

Karamatsu tugged on his shoes, then reached into the pocket of his hoodie and whipped out his signature sunglasses, which he put on with a dramatic flourish. Todomatsu sighed inwardly. Well, so much for that. Always so painful…

“Let’s just get going already,” Todomatsu muttered, swinging open the front door and stepping outside into the warm sunshine.

The walk to the store was quiet enough–neither of them spoke much, to Todomatsu’s surprise and relief. They arrived at the store in no time at all, retrieved the items on the shopping list Matsuyo had entrusted them with, paid for their purchases, and left in record time. They’d each bought a little something for themselves, too–Todomatsu had found a new face mask he’d been wanting to try, and Karamatsu had helped himself to a new fashion magazine. Todomatsu had tried not to roll his eyes and could only distance himself as the cashier rang up that purchase.  

It was on their way out of the store, though, when their ordinary trip turned into something far more excruciating. Two women–two really pretty women that were way out of their league, Todomatsu thought–were standing by the bike rack outside of the store, chatting and giggling with each other, clearly absorbed in their conversation.

Todomatsu was prepared to walk right on by without making any sort of scene, but not Karamatsu. No, it seemed that would’ve been far too simple for an idiot like him. Instead of minding his own business like he should’ve, he chose to go out of his way to approach them.

“Good afternoon, lovely ladies,” he greeted them, flashing them what he must’ve thought was a charming smile. “Wonderful weather we’re having lately, hm?”

The girls eyed him cautiously, their smiles fading into condescending leers. Todomatsu mentally smacked his hand to his forehead, wishing he could just disappear–or at least completely disassociate himself from his dumbass brother. He shot him a withering glare, silently begging him to leave them alone and follow him home.

Karamatsu didn’t seem to catch the hint from any of them, though. “Do you come here often? Perhaps we shall cross paths again one day, if fate allows–it would be an honor to be graced with the sight of your pretty faces again!” He raised his sunglasses and winked at them, as if that would make the painfully lavish flattery any more appealing to them.

“Gross,” one of the girls muttered, sneering at him.

“Freak,” the second girl jeered, and the two of them spun around and walked off in the other direction.

Todomatsu could only gape at the scene that had just unfolded before him, his jaw nearly scraping the pavement. “Karamatsu…what the hell was that?” he exclaimed, once he’d finally recovered enough to find his voice.

Karamatsu blinked, fazed at first, then slipped his sunglasses back on and grinned.  “You know how it is, my dear Totty. I was merely trying to recruit some Karamatsu girls, but they didn’t seem interested.”

“I should say not!” Todomatsu sputtered, glaring at him. “Do you really think any girl is going to like being approached by some random guy and then flirted with?! Because I can almost guarantee you that’s not the case!”

Karamatsu blinked, stunned at the sudden outburst. “I wasn’t trying to do anything bad…I simply enjoy complimenting anyone who seems like they’d enjoy it.”

“And has anyone so far, Karamatsu?” Todomatsu prompted, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. “Because last I checked, you don’t exactly have a swarm of Karamatsu girls flocking around you. Your act is ridiculous, and I can’t stand it anymore.”

“Ahh…my sincerest apologies, my dear brother. I certainly never meant to cause you any issue with—“

“God, do you even listen to yourself talk?! Everything always has to be so flowery and perfect with you!” Todomatsu spat, suddenly unable to hold back. “Why can’t you just be normal for once? Why couldn’t I have a brother who won’t constantly embarrass me whenever we go out?”

Karamatsu blanched, looking stricken…and maybe just a bit hurt by Todomatsu’s harsh words. “Todomatsu…” he began, voice quieter than usual.

“No. I don’t want to talk about this now.” Todomatsu twirled on his heel and marched forward. “Let’s just…lets just go home.”

Karamatsu said nothing in response, but Todomatsu could hear his footsteps shuffling dejectedly after him. He tried not to pay any attention to it. His cheeks were still bright pink and burning, and he felt a tight knot coil around his stomach. He just wanted to get home and forget this whole stupid thing even happened.

His phone buzzed in his pocket then, and he slid it out and glanced at the screen. A text from Atsushi. His eyes lid up as he read.

Ooh, a mixer next weekend—and he’s inviting me to go with him again! I guess I didn’t do too badly last time around if he’s willing to ask me back…if course I’m going to this!

“Todomatsu….”

Todomatsu ignored Karamatsu, brushing him off. His fingers flew across the screen as he rapidly composed his text, eyes on his phone as he kept walking.

“Todomatsu…!”

Again Todomatsu didn’t listen. He was too busy debating on what emoji would be the best to end his text with. Hmm…got it, playful smile. Aaaand done! He smirked with satisfaction as he hit “send.”

“TODOMATSU, WATCH OUT!!”

This time Karamatsu was screaming, pulling Todomatsu’s attention away from his phone at last and to the road he suddenly found himself walking across.

It all happened in a blur.

Todomatsu saw the car careening around the corner and driving too fast toward him, too fast for him to react. He froze right there, too stricken with horror to react, to move. A loud, bellowing honk from a car horn ripped through his ears, making his whole body vibrate…

…And then he was pushed forcefully out of the way as Karamatsu ran forward, shoving him as hard as he could.

Todomatsu hit the ground face-first at around the same time he heard a sickening thunk from behind him. His phone slipped from his grip and bounced across the street, a spiderweb of thin cracks spreading across the screen as it landed. The screen flickered before fading to black.

Todomatsu scrambled to his knees and snatched up his phone, hands shaking. Behind him, he could hear the door of a car open and slam shut. He didn’t think he could handle turning around.

No. This didn’t just happen.

There was a commotion all around him, but all he could hear was a loud ringing in his ears. Through the din he heard someone calling for an ambulance.

This is not happening.

“I didn’t see them there!” A voice, screaming frantically. “They just ran right out in front of my car, I swear!”

It’s not, it’s not, it’s, not…

“Please, get an ambulance here as soon as possible!” Someone was barking into their cell phone. “He’s unconscious and losing blood!”

Todomatsu couldn’t deny this anymore. He immediately got up and turned around, to where the group of people had gathered.

It can’t be Karamatsu, he can’t be hurt, he can’t be, he just can’t be…!

He pushed his way through the crowd…and when he saw who they were circled around he felt like he was going to be sick.

Karamatsu lay on the ground, inches away from the front end of a car, his body looking twisted the wrong way. He couldn’t see where it was coming from, but there was a pool of blood leaking under his head. Blood…oh god, blood….

“Karamatsu-niisan…” Todomatsu’s voice wavered, and suddenly he was breaking down in tears as he knelt beside his brother, hands hovering over him, wanting to hold him but too afraid to touch him. “Nii-san…nii-san, p-please, be okay, you have to be okay…can you hear me? Can you answer me?”

Silence. Karamatsu’s eyes were closed, as if he were deep in sleep. The only indication Todomatsu could see that he was even still alive was the slight rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

“Nii-san…” Todomatsu whispered, sniffling, moving to gently touch Karamatsu’s shoulder. The second eldest didn’t so much as flinch. “I’m sorry…I’m so sorry…this is my fault, this is all my fault….”

The shrill wail of a siren pierced the air then, and the flashing red-and-white lights of the ambulance came into view. Todomatsu wiped at his tears with one hand, reaching down and squeezing one of Karamatsu’s hands in his own.

“Nii-san, help is here…they’re going to help you, okay? You’re going to be okay…please, nii-san…I-I need you to be okay…I need you to live…okay?” He squeezed his brother’s hand again, tears blurring his vision.

He didn’t get so much as a tiny squeeze back.

—————

The wait in the hospital waiting room was unbearable. Todomatsu couldn’t stop pacing—not even after his own family had arrived, smothering him in hugs and fussing over his own minimal injuries. Everyone was a nervous wreck, on edge as they waited for any news on Karamatsu’s condition.

The whole time Todomatsu paced, he was silently berating himself.

This is all your fault. You did this to him. If you had just been watching where you were going he wouldn’t have had to save you, and he’d be fine right now.

Another thought occurred to him, one that made him feel instantly sick to his stomach.

All those awful things I said to him…they felt true at the time, but that was the last thing I said to him before this happened…what if something is seriously wrong and he…he doesn’t make it? I’ll never see him again, I’ll never talk to him again…I never got to say I’m sorry.

Fresh tears sprang in his eyes, and he collapsed onto the upholstered chair between Osomatsu and Choromatsu. They did their best to comfort him through their own concerns, but it was no use. Todomatsu didn’t think he deserved to be consoled, anyway.

It’s all my fault. I deserve to be miserable for the rest of my life…and if anything happens to Kara, I will be.

A couple of hours passed before a doctor finally came out to talk to them. By then everyone was holding their breath, terrified by what they might hear. It came as a huge relief when the doctor finally spoke—Karamatsu was pretty badly injured, but he would be fine. He had a concussion and a couple of broken ribs, and they planned on keeping him there for observation for a few days, but it was nothing life-threatening now that he’d regained consciousness.

Yet even with that good news, Todomatsu still felt wracked with guilt. He’ll survive, but he still shouldn’t have to be here now in the first place. I should be the one in the hospital right now…

When the doctor let each of them take turns visiting Karamatsu, Todomatsu couldn’t bring himself to at first. He let everyone else go before him, as he sat quietly and contemplated everything. Would Karamatsu even want to see him now? If it had been the other way around, would Todomatsu want to have a visit with the person who’d risked his life just after insulting him so brutally? He didn’t think he would…

“Todomatsu? Honey?” Matsuyo’s voice broke into his thoughts. “It’s your turn, if you’d like. Karamatsu was hoping to see you.”

Hoping to see me…? He really does want to see me? Who knows why…probably just to yell at me.

But he didn’t say that. All he could croak out was a weak, “Okay.”

Slowly, Todomatsu stood on shaking legs and walked down the hall toward Karamatsu’s room. He braced himself as he knocked, then turned the knob, not knowing what to expect.

Karamatsu lay in the bed closest to the window, propped up by a few pillows. His head was heavily bandaged, and when he turned toward Todomatsu he could see the bruising on his cheeks and around his blackened eye. Todomatsu drew in a deep breath, resisting the urge to gasp.

“Todomatsu…hi.” Karamatsu tried to sit up a little in bed, winching as he did so. Todomatsu flinched inwardly, thinking about his broken ribs and how badly that must hurt.

“Hi…um, you don’t have to sit up,” Todomatsu said quickly. “You can just lay down again…it looks like you’re in pain.”

“They put me on an IV with pain medicine to help for now….but I think I will lay down again anyway, if you don’t mind.” Karamatsu slowly eased himself back against his pillow again. He looked a little worn out, as far as Todomatsu could tell.

“Mom said…she said you wanted to see me?” Todomatsu ventured hesitantly, wringing his hands. “Is…is everything okay…?”

“Actually…that’s what I wanted to ask.” Karamatsu’s voice was so sincere right now, lacking the usual sparkle he spoke with. “I was worried about you…I wanted to make sure you were doing alright after the accident. Are you okay?”

“I…wait…you mean, you were worried me?” Todomatsu asked, taken aback.

“Yes…the whole situation must have been so scary, and I was worried about how you took it and if you’d gotten hurt…are you okay?”

Todomatsu bowed his head, gaze locked on the floor. Suddenly his eyes welled with tears, and before he could stop himself he was burying his face in his hands as he sobbed.

“T-Todomatsu…?” Karamatsu asked, alarmed. “What’s wrong…?”

“You…you idiot!” Todomatsu wailed, voice trembling as he struggled to contain his tears. “Y-you were the one who got hit by a c-car! I’m the one who was worried about you this whole time, thinking you might die! I don’t…I don’t deserve to be worried about! Not when this whole thing is my fault!”

“Todomatsu…”

“I-I was so horrible to you today, and I didn’t get a chance to apologize…” Todomatsu babbled on tearfully. “I said such terrible things…but the truth is, if you weren’t like this, if you were just a normal brother…I’d miss it! I’d miss you! I…I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!”

“Todomatsu…please, come here.” Karamatsu patted the spot next to him on the bed.

Todomatsu relented at first, then gave in, perching at the edge of the bed. Karamatsu leaned toward him, wrapping him up in a one-armed embrace with the arm not currently hooked up to tubes.

“Todomatsu, I don’t want you to beat yourself up over this so much,” he said after a moment, still holding his sniffling younger brother close. Todomatsu stayed a little rigid, terrified of hurting him again.

“B-but…it was my fault…”

“This could have happened to any of us. It was all an accident. Please don’t keep worrying about it.”

“But…what about those terrible things I said…?”

“I’ve heard worse before. Don’t worry about that, either.”

Todomatsu sniffed again, wiping his nose with his hoodie sleeve despite his better judgement. He still wasn’t convinced that it wasn’t his fault…but at least Karamatsu was speaking to him, rather than screaming at him or, worse, giving him the cold shoulder. Maybe that meant something, after all.

“I…I’m so sorry, Karamatsu-niisan,” Todomatsu whispered hoarsely, brushing away the last of his tears.

“It’s okay. Let’s not worry about this anymore today…tomorrow will be a brighter day, and I think everyone could use some rest now.” Karamatsu yawned a little then, and scooted over slightly in bed. He indicated for Todomatsu to lay beside him. Reluctantly he did, resting his head against one of the pillows. Karamatsu kept his arm protectively around him.

Todomatsu still felt terrible. Deep in his heart he knew that what happened today was still his fault—if not due to his biting remarks, than because of not paying attention. No matter how he spun it, all the evidence pointed to him being the one to blame. But right now, he didn’t want to keep pressing it. Karamatsu seemed so exhausted, and Todomatsu was tired, too.

Together, the two drifted off to sleep, Karamatsu holding Todomatsu close and guarding him once more.

[tommoholland2013]

Words || Peter Parker

Word Count: 4.3k Warning(s): Angst, Angst, Angst... Mentions of cutting Note: I have had experience with this so I understand if it's a sensitive topic, as it is for me as well, but I did base the reader off of me (a little). Pairing: Peter Parker x Female!Reader Request: Can u write a Pete Imagine for my bday? Where y/n and he were bff & one day they get into a BIG fight & Peter said smth REALLY BAD to her & made her cry & run away & she avoid him for weeks & then at homecoming(She has a long red or blue dress?u can pick the colour) Vulture kidnapped her & then took her to the building where the ceiling fell & she was trapped & Peter panicked because he couldn't hear her & then he saved her? I don't know if I make sense but thank u ❤️Love ur writing❤️ A/N: Enjoy, please. I worked so  hard to get this done lol Note II: I don't know about other schools, but at my school, we have homecoming about two months after the start of school, so that's the case here. Also, the reader already knows that Peter's spider-man, but she doesn't know that Peter's been pursuing Vulture (Adrien Toomes)

"Hey, May." Y/N greeted as she walked into the small apartment.

"Oh, Y/N! Peter's just in his room." May informed Y/N over her shoulder from her position in the kitchen.

"Figured as much. Thanks, May." Y/N smiled at May. Peter and Y/N had been best friends for as long as they could remember. Y/N visited their apartment almost daily, so much so that May ended up giving Y/N a key to the apartment, and Peter visited Y/N's home frequently enough for her mother to give him a key as well.

As much as Y/N wanted to believe that Peter was just a best friend to her, he was far more than that. Her heart always skipped a beat when he looked at her, and melted when he smiled. She loved his hugs, and his cuddles when she needed them. She knew her feelings would never be reciprocated, and yet she still hung into them. Clung to them like a source of air, a source of living. Y/N walked down the small hall and to Peter's door.

"Hey, loser. I'm coming in." Y/N called through the wooden door. She heard May's laughter before she flung the door open. She found Peter lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. She dropped her bag by the door and flipped onto the bed, well, really onto him. Peter let out a small groan and Y/N smiled triumphantly.

"Whatcha thinkin' about?" Y/N asked as she rolled over onto the spot next to Peter and lulled her head to the side to look at him as he spoke.

"Nothing." Peter answered back quietly and monotonously as he refused to meet Y/N's eyes. Y/N had noticed his odd behavior of recent, and so had Michelle and Ned. But unlike the other two, Y/N had a hunch, because there was one secret that Peter never shared with anyone. Y/N only knew because she had been present and witnessed it all.

"You've been thinking a lot about 'nothing' lately. Is everything okay?" Y/N asked, concern furrowing her brows.

"I'm fine." Peter answered hastily and sharply again.

"Are you sure?" Y/N pushed a little more. She knew Peter didn't want to talk about it, but she also knew he tended to suppress his emotions until they built up and eventually caved in, taking him down with them.

"I said, I'm fine." Peter snapped.

Y/N furrowed her brows in confusion. She knew Peter got uncomfortable with the subject, but he had no need to lash out.

"I was just wondering. Peter I know what month is coming up..." Y/N trailed off.

"Jesus, Y/N. Can't I just think in silence? Does there absolutely have to be something wrong with me, for me to want to just... think? You always feel the need to bring it up, even when I don't ask you to. I said I'm fine. Why can't you just take that, and be okay with it?" Peter snapped as he sat up. Y/N followed suit.

"Because you're not fine." Y/N answered back quietly.

"What the hell do you know about being fine? You're never fine half the time, just look at your wrist. How in the hell would you ever know if someone else was or wasn't fine?" Y/N sat silent, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. Peter's  words hurt, pierced heavily through her heart like a knife. She knew she was sensitive, and she knew she had self-esteem matters to mend, and that that was what Peter was referring to, but she never thought he'd say something so hurtful.

"I know when you're not okay, because you're my best friend. And I can tell when my best friend is okay and when he isn't." Y/N bit back as she withheld her heavy tears.

"Just stop trying to pretend like you can fix everything, Y/N. I'm fine. I don't need your useless pity, or you using me and Aunt May as your personal sob story to cling to. I can handle myself." Peter spat venomously at Y/N. As she processed Peter's harsh words, a wave of unforgiving anger crashed upon her. Y/N's tongue twisted in her mouth, fighting with the words that tried to claw their way out. She lost the fight and eventually, words began to tumble out. Vexed syllables flowered into dozens more, and soon Y/N was saying things to Peter she never saw herself saying to him.

"How dare you? You asshole." Y/N stood up with force from the bed. "What, you think I don't know I'm not okay half of the time? You think I don't know that I have my own issues to work out? Do you think I am completely and utterly clueless about my own unstable emotional state? You think I don't fucking know?" Y/N paused, her words simmered in the angry, thick atmosphere of the small room. It wasn't long before she continued her angry speech. "You selfish, ungrateful prick. Of course I know I have shit to deal with, and clearly, so do you. Here I am, being the one friend who's been with you through it all, and has also been through her own things, may I remind you, still standing as tall as I can and trying my absolute best to be the one shoulder you can always lean on, no matter how weak I may be. Things at my own home have not gotten any better, and my emotional state deteriorates more and more with each passing day, but where am I? Here, with you, trying so hard to be the caring friend I know you need, no matter how much you deny it." Y/N paused, taking in another deep breath before continuing her anger spiral of words. "I get you're upset and that you hate talking about it, but you don't get to insult me. You don't get to get mad at me for caring about you. I'm sorry for caring, Peter. Obviously you don't need anyone other than Aunt May to care about you. And that's completely fine, because as you have so kindly reminded me today, I have my own shit to work out. Goodbye, Peter."

With one final harsh glare at the boy she once called her best friend, Y/N collected her backpack and exited the room. Furious brown eyes followed her as she exited the room. Peter flopped back onto his bed with a loud sigh. His hands moved to rub the exhaustion from his eyes. He had never seen Y/N so angry, and what the hell did he say to her? Why did he say those things to her?

"Y/N, will you be staying for dinner?" May asked as Y/N approached the door hastily.

"Uh no. I-I remembered I have a-a lot of homework to finish, and I have some tests to study for so, I'm actually just gonna head home, if that's all right." Y/N pulled the door open and pulled it shut too quickly to hear May's response. As she stormed further away from the apartment, her anger boiled more and more in her body, her temperature rising and her teeth grinding at an angered rhythm.

Peter was upset about the upcoming month, that was understandable by Y/N's standards as it held that day, which was considerably hard on both May and Peter. However, no matter how upset, Peter still  had no right by any standing to lash out at Y/N in the way he did. Although she wouldn't admit it then, Y/N's heart was broken. And to think, she had believed she was falling for him too. Y/N's heart ache converted to rage as she stormed down the street to her own place of living. The argument and harsh exchange of painful word replayed in an endless cycle in her mind. By the time she was pushing her key into the key hole of the door to her home, warm and irked tears begged to fall. With all her might, Y/N refused the tears, until she could no more.

Crying was something Y/N had grown all too familiar with, and it had its many causes. The blade, the empty feeling of depression, the overbearing concern brought about by anxiety, but never had it been the words said by Peter. Instead of taking a proper shower, under the steady stream of the water, Y/N's droplets fell just as naturally with those of the shower. His words hurt, and the fact that they came from him didn't better the situation.

No family to comfort, and her only truly close friend, Michelle, had been friends with Peter longer than she had been with Y/N, so naturally, Y/N feared that Michelle wouldn't side with her.

The black painted canvas of the sky was carefully decorated with the white dots of the stars so far. The moon hung proudly in the sea of stars in place of the sun, it's light casting a light shadow upon Y/N's face as she sat on her comfortable and designated spot on the fire escape. The loud sounds of the very alive nightlife of Queens echoed and reflected as Y/N looked out. The next day was going to be a particularly hard day.

Days melted to weeks, weeks sizzled to amount almost three weeks worth of no contact with Peter whatsoever. Peter and Y/N hadn't spoken since the day of their fight, and Y/N was doing worse than ever. Her grades had taken a nose dive, she didn't sleep and barely ate. Needless to say, Y/N was unhappy. After days of avoiding Ned, Michelle, and Peter in the hallways and classrooms, Michelle finally stopped Y/N while she attempted to dash out of her classroom to the library to hide herself in a book.

Michelle said Peter wasn't talking and wouldn't say anything about what happened. Michelle pestered Y/N until she finally spilled the twisted details of every word they had said to one another that day. Michelle, much to Y/N's surprise, sided with her and said that Peter had been overly quiet, and when he did speak, he only lashed out. After Michelle's declaration, Y/N went silent, and Michelle knew Y/N knew the reason for Peter's resent uncharacteristic behavior. Three days after they'd talked, Michelle and Y/N were seated at their usual lunch table. Michelle had said something funny, and Y/N couldn't help but laugh a hearty laugh, the beautiful sound echoing through the lunchroom and mixing with the buzzing chatter of other students in the lunch room. And though others disregarded the sound, Peter couldn't help but pick the sound out. The sound of Y/N's laughter always warmed his heart, this time though, it hardened it. With the day fast approaching, Peter talked less and less. He still went out in the dark of night to enjoy his night time adventures, but not with a certain weight on his shoulders. To add the glistening glitter to the pile of troubles weighing Peter down, May wasn't doing too good. She too had been down, and things had gotten particularly hard.

Too bad he didn't have the support of the only girl he loved, the only girl who understood him in a way no one else had. All that weaved through Peter's head; all as a result of the sound of Y/N's laughter.

Meanwhile, Y/N's laughter died down and she resumed her banter with Michelle, until out of the corner of her eye, Y/N saw a strange movement. Turning her attention to the movement, Y/N saw Liz Allen, a senior, on a ladder hanging up the largely decorated sign that read "Homecoming."

"You going?" Michelle asked, her eyes trained on the sign.

"Only if you'll go with me." Y/N joked as she nudged Michelle with a hint of a smile.

"Okay, then I'll go." Michelle nudged Y/N back with a ghostly smile playing on her lips.

The day has finally arrived. The day that everyone has been alive and abuzz about. Homecoming. She spent the night before at Michelle's place, and the pair had gotten ready together. Y/N had chosen a long, flowing red dress and paired them with a pair of not-too-high matching red heels. The moment she took a final glance at her prepared figure in the mirror, Y/N felt a weight removed from her self-esteem, almost like it had finally been allowed it's long overdue chance to finally rise from its ashes.

The ride to the event had been full of laughter and music. Michelle played songs by Nirvana, Rage Against The Machine and Queens to hype the two up. Y/N knew Michelle was trying to take Y/N's mind off of the fact that she'd have to see Peter at the dance, and with Liz Allen on top of that, but Y/N appreciated Michelle's efforts as they provided her with a much needed sense of confidence. The car pulled up in front of the building and Y/N and Michelle stepped out of the car. Y/N was a fit of laughter at Michelle's look of judgement towards her peers as they walked up the stairs towards the doors. They pulled the doors open and entered the overdecorated gym. The music pounded loudly through the tight space. The lights blinked colorfully and reflected onto the walls and floors of the gym. Y/N burst into laughter as she saw the look of disgust on her face.

"What's so funny?" Michelle asked.

"You just look so disgusted, it's really funny." Y/N explained. Michelle rolled her eyes with a light heart.

Later into the night, Y/N saw Liz walk in through the doors, soon following Peter. Peter's words from the day of their fight suddenly returned, and Y/N's heart dropped.

"Hey, I'm gonna head out for some air." Y/N told Michelle. Michelle nodded her head. With that, Y/N walked out of the gym and down the hall, the sound of her heels clacking on the shiny floor of the dimly lit hallways accompanied by the light thumping of the music. She walked out of the building towards the back where she knew no one would disturb her. As she pushed the door open, she nearly regretted it instantly as the frosty fall air bit harshly in a breeze on the skin of her arms.

Y/N didn't need to cry, but she did need a moment to think. Something about Peter in a suit, at a dance, with another girl, caused her heart to constrict in the same way it had when Peter had lashed out at her. Her thoughts however, were disrupted when a hand clamped over her mouth. The culprit, whoever it was, shushed her, their lips brushing harshly against the shell of her ear as they dragged her away from the doorway and towards a car. Y/N fought and screamed against the hand, and the person retaliated with an even louder shush.

"I have to go. I'm so sorry, you don't deserve this." Peter muttered as he looked into Liz's disappointed eyes. Not being able to bare the guilt of his abandonment of his date, Peter walked away as quickly as he could. Once in the hallway, Peter forced his tie off of him and threw it out. He grabbed his suit from its secret spot under the row of lockers and ran to get changed.

Peter ran out of the school towards the back of the building.

"Now, I'm not gonna hurtcha... unless he gives me a reason to. Hope and pray he chooses right, you just might live. Stay quiet, and don't go anywhere." The man joked drily as he walked away with the key to the cuffs. Y/N's eyes followed the man as he walked towards a desk oddly placed in the middle of the empty warehouse. Y/N hadn't spoken a word since she'd been abducted, instead she spent it memorizing a way out of the warehouse, and the license plate of the car she'd been brought in. Her next step had been to plan a way to escape the painfully tight hold of the cuffs, but she couldn't let go of what he had said.

'Unless he gives me a reason to.'

Who the hell could he be? Y/N's mind was racing, but forced to a screeching halt as one name only made sense. Peter. The sound of her abductor speaking pulled her out of her vicing concentration.

"Well sweetheart, looks like he didn't make an all too wise decision." The man stated as he glanced up at Y/N. Her cracked lips parted in a manner that indicated her intent on speaking, but her words were instantly rendered useless when an un-piloted wing-suit flew into the warehouse and began to fly around sporadically.

At first, it seemed as though the suit was flying around without pattern, aimlessly cutting and destroying anything in its path, but the more Y/N watched the wing-suit, the more she realized the suit's true goal was to break down the bars supporting the building, leaving Y/N to a certain death.

This sent Y/N into a frenzy of panic.

"Who are you talking about?" Y/N screamed as she struggled against the cuffs. She had a hunch, but a hunch wasn’t enough when her life was left in the hands of another person. "Who is he?" Her life depended solely on this unknown person, whoever he was, which only caused more panic to bubble within her and she could feel an anxiety attack coming on.

"I wanna tell ya, but, I got a flight to catch." The man fled the building with his suit moments before the walls of the warehouse fell upon Y/N's figure. Y/N's eyes squeezed shut in terror as she heard the building fall apart around her. It was useless for her to fight and struggle against the cuffs, ironically enough, they cut painfully into the skin of her wrist.

The weight of the structures walls fell upon Y/N's fragile figure. Soon enough, she couldn't see, and breathing became significantly more difficult. The night sky consumed her eventually, encasing her in a star sparkling velvety black, the spots of light singing falsely calming tunes and luring her into a dark peaceful abyss.

Peter's heart dropped in his chest the moment the debris collapsed around Y/N's figure.

"Y/N," Peter shouted loudly. The man Peter had spent weeks pursuing suddenly meant all of nothing to him. His feet moved faster than his mind did. It all happened far too quickly. Peter felt as though he was absent from his own body, like he watched the scene of events unfold before his eyes in the third person. The wing-suit, Toomes walking out of the building in a calm collected manner, a triumphant beat to his step. It was easy for Peter to choose between going after Toomes or risking his life to dig through piles of rubble to find a possibly alive Y/N.

In slow, untimely motion, Peter's feet moved and carried him quickly to the general area of where Y/N had been, his lips forming her name perfectly and allowing it to fall from his lips in frantic screams. Peter was no longer thinking rationally and began to uselessly dog through debris. Minutes passed, and Peter was still digging, his heart pounding loudly against his rib cage, his hands and arms aching from his relentless digging.

He sat down, his lungs clawing for sufficient air. In the silence, the sounds of distant sirens ripples through the sky, but Peter's ears perked up at the sound of a whimper. His shoulders, once hunched in sinking disappointment, lifted and Peter listened closely for another sound. His heart skipped a beat when the sound of another helpless whimper reached his ears. He tore the mask off his face to hear better.

"Y/N," Peter whispered scrambling towards the sound of her weak cries. Once he was sure he'd found her, he began to hectically push away large pieces of concrete. Peter did his best, but it felt hopeless. It felt like every time he would remove debris, more would move to take the place. The reality of not being able to reach Y/N burned him inside, consuming him from the inside out.

Peter's tears began to fall, the wet stream caught the attention of the dust and grime of the fallen structure. The guilt of the prior weeks, especially that day, began to weigh down his shoulders and began to be the cause of his delicate falling droplets. His arms with desperate exhaustion and begged eagerly for rest, but the pleas of his body were ignored as he continued to dig through the rubble. Minutes passed, and Peter did not give up, the choice wasn't there. The moment he saw her delicate skin was like sunshine breaking through rainy clouds. As if he hadn't been moving pieces away fast enough, Peter began to move with even more haste until he'd finally dug her up. The fragile glass fragments falling from his eyes had yet to cease as he picked Y/N's body up bridal style.

Peter's eyes roamed over her face, taking in her state. She had a cut across her cheek, and another one along her left jaw. Her shoulders were traced with already forming bruises, and her hair was an absolute tangle of pebbles of rubble.

Peter didn't check to see if Y/N was conscious, or that she could even hear her when he began to profusely apologize. The syllables freed themselves from his mouth in such a jumbled manner, his words were no longer coherent. Y/N coughed before her hands moved to fist the material of Peter's suit in the weak hold of her fist.

"Peter, Peter it's okay. I'm all right," she cut him off.

"I'm so sorry. I don't know w-what was wrong with me or-or-or why I said any of the things I did—"

"Peter, I'm okay, I'm fine." Y/N tried to convince him.

"But you're not— I don't mean it like that I mean— God, Y/N. I was so sure you were gone. I was sure I'd lost you for good, I was sure I'd never get to see you again, or hear your laugh again, or-or-or-or—" Y/N could see the panic in his eyes, the worry that ran rampant in his wide blown brown eyes. She listened as best as she could to everything he said and tried to respond, but he wouldn't give her the chance.

Y/N couldn't get Peter to shut up, so she cupped his jaw, and brought her lips up to Peter's. It was a spur of the moment action and the gravity of what she'd just done didn't quite sink in until Peter began to kiss her back.

"I've waited way too long for that," Peter sighed once they'd pulled apart, Y/N still in his arms.

"You have?," Y/N asked with hopeful wide eyes.

"I have." Peter stated before he leaned in for another kiss. For a moment, the troubles of before, and the troubles they'd both been entrapped in moments before no longer existed. They were nothing but a spec of dust in existence. For just a moment, the world and all it's dwellings were at peace.

A/N: Cheesy shitty ending, I know. Anyway, it’s been exactly a month since i last posted, but hopefully this makes up for it. I’m so sorry for all the delays, I’ve been trying really hard to write and edit more so I can post but it just seems like all forces are against me. Anyway, I’ll keep trying. I know it doesn’t seem like I’m trying, but I am, I promise I am trying to be more active and write more. I still have a lot to requests to write, and a lot to edit too so all I can do right now is request for your forgiveness, and patience. Also, this took me two weeks to write so, please get this to at least 150 notes? It would mean a lot to me <333

[sincerelycreek]

nice shot

Summary: Tweek goes to a haunted house and accidentally punches a cute boy in the face. Warnings: shit writing i rushed through this A/N: OK I MEANT TO POST THIS WAY EARLIER BUT I COMPLETELY FORGOT CAUSE I WAS SO EXCITED TO TRICK OR TREAT MIGHT BE A LIL DRUNK DONT CARE UH I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT THOUGH THANKS AND TELL ME ABOUT UR HALLOWEEN ILY ALL

“I change my mind, can I go home?”

“Absolutely not!” Clyde exclaimed from the passenger side. He ignored Token’s protests, who was driving carefully, as Clyde turned around to face Tweek. “Dude, it’s going to be fun.” Without answering, Tweek rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. Leave it to Clyde to think a setup haunted house, of all places on Halloween, would be fun. Granted, it was a better idea than visiting an actual haunted house with real ghosts. That would be the opposite of a fun night.

From beside Tweek, even Jimmy pitched in. “Y-Yeah Tweek, d-dont b-be such a p-pussy,” he stated. His type of insult made Tweek suddenly think that he was being given a personal challenge, and he silently accepted it. It was just a haunted house game, setup by their home town. Chances are it’d be lame or keep him up at night, but either way, Tweek wasn’t going to be getting out of it.

Token finally managed to get Clyde to sit in his seat properly, and in doing so continued the drive for only a few more minutes until they reached the famous haunted house. Tweek was helping Jimmy out of the car after stepping out himself, and using his free hand to nibble nervously at his thumbs nail.

Both Token and Clyde were to far ahead as they approached the opening, goofing off, so it was only Jimmy that noticed Tweek’s sudden anxiety. It wasn’t unusual for Tweek to be so anxious, but he hasn’t been as bad as he was nine years ago. “I-If you’re so s-scared, why d-didn’t you s-stay home?” Jimmy asked, studying his close friend, as he went silent. Soon, the answer quickly hit him and he understood. “I-It’s Tucker, isn’t i-it?”

The sound of the name suddenly made Tweek smile. Once realizing he was doing so, he had wiped it off his face quickly. “No,” he dismissed Jimmy’s thought, and looked away so he didn’t have to see the other’s knowing grin. Every one of Tweek’s friends knew of his quiet crush on Craig Tucker, a raven-haired boy with a serious constant bitch face. He was playing in the haunted house, and Tweek knew that. It’s why he didn’t make Token turn the car around and bring him home.

Fortunately, Jimmy was kind enough to drop the subject. That was mostly due to how they were approaching the entrance. Token, being the generous and kind one, paid for their way in despite it not being expensive at all. They wandered inside, being greeted by all things Halloween in their line of vision. From spider webs, to to pumpkins, even flashing lights. Those were what was tame though, as the small group of teenage boys knew that there was others hiding in there, ready to do their best to spook them.

That was enough to make Tweek hang behind in the line. If anything jumped out at them, it would scare Clyde and Token first, way before the shock from any outburst hit him. All thoughts of his conversation with Jimmy from earlier about Craig Tucker left his head as they wandered through. Clyde tried to puff his chest and act tough, but when a girl dressed as a fortune teller was rubbing a glittering crystal ball and looking at them menacingly. She began humming, her throat making it rough, before speaking.

“You’re gonna die today, you’re gonna die..”

Clyde chose to hide behind Token after that, and Tweek knew Jimmy would have called him the pussy next if they weren’t all being scared. The group was wandering deeper than, seeing more adults and teenagers in well done scary costumes, some jumped out, some just stared at them creepily without a word.

Tweek, still being anxious, flinched every time someone or something did jump out at him. His hands were clenched together tightly and his head twitched back and forth, his gaze meeting only spaces that these people could be hiding. Tweek tried to calm himself, breathing in through his nose, and assuring himself that nothing could be so scary that he’d have a real meltdown over it.

However, Tweek was wrong. All of a sudden, he felt as if someone was staring at the back of his head because he was hanging in the back of the group. Slowly, he came to a halt before turning his head. As soon as doing so, he calmed for a second when seeing nothing but something they’ve already passed.

That is, until, a creeking sound was heard. Tweek froze, and everything from that second seemed to go by in slow motion for him, except it was actually fast. All Tweek could see was someone reach out in the dark, their hands going straight for his shoulders, while making a groaning sound. He didn’t hesitate, a screech escaping his mouth, as his right hand tightened into a fist and he pulled his arm back before swinging it forward.

Tweek’s fist had definitely hit someone, as he felt his knuckles punch into something hard. A second later, the person cried out in pain and stumbled back, repeating the word “Fuck” again and again. Tweek gasped, realizing what he’d done, and his hands flung up to cover his mouth. “I’m so sorry!” He exclaimed, out of breath from the rush of adrenaline.

The one he’d hit so hard stumbled out of the dark. He was clearly dressed as a zombie, and clutching his nose. Tweek couldn’t tell if fake blood was dribbling from his hand or real from his hit. But his heart skipped a beat when seeing it was Craig Tucker, underneath all the fake zombie make-up and ripped up costume clothing, but glaring at Tweek with a hard stare that could kill. Honestly, Tweek wouldn’t mind that so much right now. Death seemed much better than living in this moment.

Suddenly, the area they were in was filled with Clyde’s howling laughter that bounced off the walls and echoed in their ears. Tweek looked over his shoulder and tightened his expression into his own glare when seeing Clyde bent over, clutching his gut and laughing until he was red in the face. Token, for the sake of Tweek’s dignity, was trying to hold it back. “Dude, I can’t believe you were that freakin’ scared!” Clyde shouted, pausing into between laughs.

“I wasn’t scared, I’m not a chicken,” Tweek mumbled under his breath. The tips of his ears burned, and he knew he was going red from embarrassment. He looked back at Craig, who was still glaring angrily. “I’m so, so sorry,” he repeated, this time softer. He wouldn’t be surprised if the wounded one decided to hit Tweek back. Craig still wasn’t saying anything, except just pulling his hand back to cup the blood. “C-Can I help?” He figured there wasn’t much that he could do, and wasn’t even sure if Craig wanted any help.

“You can follow me out and give me a hand,” Craig snapped, his voice more nasally than it usually was. “But if you broke anything, I’m going to kill you.” The statement was a clear threat, and honestly, Tweek still wouldn’t be minding it.

Tweek said a quick good-bye to the three. This wasn’t how he imagined his first altercation with Craig in any way, in fact this was probably the last thing he wanted. He followed Craig through a weird exit built in the haunted house, which he figured was there in the case of a fire or something in which case everyone would need to leave quickly.

“I’m really, really, sorry,” Tweek repeated for the third time, unable to think of anything else to say. They walked to Craig’s car, in the parking lot. “D-Do you want me to drive?”

“Sure.” Craig dug into his pocket, holding his nose with his free hand as he tossed Tweek the keys. “Don’t treat my car like you treated my nose.”

Tweek breathed a sigh of relief when hearing the joke, glad that the other wasn’t so mad anymore. “I’ll be more careful,” he promised.

The drive to the hospital was quiet, other than Craig’s heavy breathing. When they arrived, they were directed to the waiting room, and Craig was given a cloth to hold to his nose while he waited to be looked at. It was a strange sight for others, seeing a boy fully covered in zombie make-up and odd ripped clothings, but no one approached and asked any questions. It was Halloween, anyways. And it certainly wouldn’t be the strangest thing to happen in South Park.

“I’m sorry,” Tweek said again, when sitting next to Craig in the waiting room chairs. “I-I really didn’t mean to.”

Craig scoffed, tilting his head back. “If you say you’re sorry one more time, I’ll punch you. Harder,” he threatened. “This is the last way I wanted to start talking to someone I like.”

At his words, Tweek suddenly perked up. He didn’t feel as guilty anymore, and his chest was doing flips. “You like me?” He asked, needing a confirmation. He felt like a stupid school girl with a crush, and he was sure Craig felt the same.

Craig motioned to the wound. “Not so much anymore,” he lightly joked, finally cracking a small smile and gently kicking Tweek’s foot.

It wasn’t a surprise to anyone when they walked into school hand in hand that following Monday.