#it was supposed to be only a doodle… but then it turned into a mini comic

[1driedpersimmon]

Gottem

Bonus:

[biteyoubiteme]

black cherry flavored

ot5 txt x fem!reader

synopsis: how many ghostfaces are there again?

warnings: 🔞!!! gangbang, mentions of drinking, getting scared, fearplay? reader gets chased through house and doesnt know who it is, knifeplay (only used to cut off underwear), clit play, mean dom moments, filming during sex, slight breeding kink, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms (f!), creampie(s), marking, subspace, fingering, oral (m! rec), hair pulling!, overstim (f!rec), she/her used prob forgot some

wc: 9.2k (this one got away from me)

an: this is not proofread at all im so so so sorry forgive me sweet angel ily but I cannot believe october is over and this event has come to an end ;-; I hope you guys like this one! im a HUGE horror movie fan so I was excited to do this and hopefully it turned out well. I went with a different approach for a scream fic that was kinda based on different aspects from the movies and I hope you like it! feedback is appreciated :)) [m.list]

this is apart of my mini kinktober event check out the rest of the fics! [dumdum m.list]

"whats your favorite scary movie?"

You roll your eyes, hand coming up to cover the screen of your laptop. “Aren't you supposed to be doing your own work not pestering me about mine?” 

It was late in the night, the library dead silent besides the hum of the heater and faint typing on stiff keyboards. The door to the study space was cracked just enough to hear the elevator if it dinged, the indicator the floor would soon be closing for the cleaning staff. The clock on the wall told you it was close to one in the morning, only an hour away from the library being cleared and closed.  

“I'm avoiding the rest of my essay,” beomgyu shrugs, clicking his pen as a signal for an end to the line of questioning. “Annoying you just seemed like a better plan,” 

“Annoying all of us, I needed this done an hour ago,” yeonjun doesn't even look up from his laptop, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, lenses glossed over with the light from his screen, fingers speeding over the keys only to pause and jam the delete button. “Fuck, i lost my train of thought,” 

“It's already late, just turn it in tomorrow morning,” huening suggests, slouched back in his chair, thumbs nibbly swiveling on the joystick of his switch. “The syllabus said it was ten points off no matter how late after twelve you submit it,” 

“Don't talk to me right now, you got yours in on time. And I'm getting this done tonight whether I like it or not. I won't be able to handle looking at it tomorrow morning. the paper just won't get turned in at all if that happens,” yeonjuns back to typing furiously squinting at his laptop not noticing kais grin. 

“You should have listened to me about meeting up at nine, but nooo-” 

“Huening,” yeonjun warns. 

“I'm just saying…” 

Yeonjun picks up one of Soobin's scattered pens from the table, tossing it at Kai hitting him in the lap. And when Kai just laughs, Yeonjun picks up a few more to throw, the showering of pens making Kai yelp. 

“Shhh,” soobin doesn't even lift his head to see what's going on. He and tae had been trying to sleep for the better part of two hours, Taehyun having found success, sliding two chairs together to prop his legs up. He pulled his hat down over his eyes and hasn't said anything since closing them. Soobin only crossed his arms and laid his head down, leg bouncing showing he was still struggling to actually find it in him to sleep without his bed. 

The six of you usually booked the room on Friday nights from nine to two, blocking the time to try and catch up on work before the weekend. It was either the time you got the most work done or none at all. You're surprised it took beomgyu this long to finally turn away from his assignment at this point he's usually at the whiteboard doodling or trying to get everyone to play dirty hangman. 

It was easier to get all of you together here instead of one of your small dorms, the space hardly big enough for three people let alone six. In the library you didn't have to worry about cramming together, the fourth floors study spaces equipped with long tables and eight chairs. Out of the two libraries on campus this one didn't have many people visit often, especially not when the walk from any of the dorms was twice as long. The fourth floor was empty and quiet except for the group's laughter on nights you didn't worry about work. 

“You didn't answer that question,” beomgyu points out again, pointer finger pushing away your hand blocking the screen, “what's your favorite scary movie?” 

“I didn't answer it because I can't choose,” you confess, scrolling through the paper you're writing for class. 

“Is your homework twenty questions?” soobins voice is muffled, annoyed and sleep-ridden. 

“No-” 

beomgyu cuts you off before you could explain, brows scrunching as he reads. “Looks like it, this one is ‘what are the rules around sex’ there is no way this actually for your class,” 

“What?” this pulls soobins head up, the messy strands of his dark hair sticking up around his forehead. 

“Of course you wake up when you hear the word sex,” yeonjun quips, pursing his lips reading over his work on his screen. 

“No need to wake up you type so loud i couldn't fall asleep,” soobin says brushing his long fingers through his hair, you always noticed the later it got the grumpier he became, pouting lips and half lidded eyes always making an appearance after midnight. 

“It's for my film studies class. We’re learning about the rules of horror,” its clarification enough for soobin who nods but beomgyu lets his head tilt to the side, the vision of a question mark. 

“Rules? You can't just send a killer in, have them spill some blood, and call it a day?” 

“You could, but i'm sure it would follow a pattern, even without you realizing it,” scrolling through your work you pause on the first option. “First you have to think about the time period when the movie was filmed. Most of the popular ones ranged from the 80’s to the early 2000’s. A huge push in most cultures is the topics of sex, drugs, and money. It's the three things people try to control the most. Throw a bunch of badly behaving teens in with a psycho killer playing god and you can tell the masses how wrong something is. Like having sex,” 

“So wrong it would get you killed?” 

“Yup, in most, if not all, horror movies the people who have sex on screen or are known for sleeping around get killed off, leaving the poor virgin alive. Main characters who live to the end also don't drink, or do drugs. Rich people aren't safe, especially if you have a big empty house with lots of stairs, doors, and windows. The more for you to make the wrong decision not to exit from,” 

“Then who does live?” Kai asks, game paused in hand. 

“The girl next door lead, never her boyfriend, the camera man, unless you see him leave the group because you should never leave the group under any circumstances. But everyone else is fair game. Oh and if you say ‘i'll be right back,’ the lines a killer in and of itself,” 

“So I'd die because I like to have a good time?” yeonjun asks, fingers paused on his keys as he looks over at you. Everyone but tae is turned in your direction, listening intently. 

“Unless you're the killer, or lucky because you weren't in line of the camera when you decided it was smart enough to leave the house. It's very kill or be killed. Another rule is to never trust anyone,” 

“The list just gets longer and longer,” soobin sits back in his chair, arms crossed behind his head as he stretches, “you know i saw this one post on twitter that some people like the whole masked killer thing, gets them off,” 

“Of course you would be on twitter looking at stuff like that,” gyu fakes disappointment, shaking his head, “this is exactly why you wouldn't survive, you're a closeted perv,” 

“I don't know about closeted perv, he was openly scrolling past hentai the other day in the dorm,” yeonjun is back to typing, soobin kicking the foot of his chair. 

“Past it, i didn't pause on it,” 

“It was on your for you page! Clearly you have a habit of liking things akin to it,” 

“I don't know, I think it's kinda hot, the mask thing. or i guess more so the build up of fear, it's almost like foreplay, your pulse starts going, you get all flushed. And I did see this clip of these two guys dressed up…” this wouldn't be the first time any of you confessed to watching something that turned you on. All of you had been friends for years, growing up nothing had ever been an off limits topic. You can see the video in your head, the way they held the girl between them; how they manhandled her down onto the bed. 

“So you and soobin are both freaks,” beomgyu grins, the need to tease showing right in his eyes. 

“A threesome is not freaky,” Taehyun states, breaking his silence, hat still over his eyes, fully relaxed and laid back. If you hadn't known the sound of his voice you would have assumed he was still asleep, if he had even been asleep in the first place. 

“Agreed, anything over three is a little freaky,” soobin shrugs, bending over halfway out of his chair to pick up his fallen pens. 

“So would you? Sleep with more than two people at once?” gyu asks, the tilt back to his head, “this is the true test if you're freaky or not,” he chuckles. 

“I mean yeah… would you?” The question is directed at the room and you watch the question lay over them like fog, each of them thinking for a second, blank expressions all the way around.

Taehyun was the first to respond, shrugging his shoulders before nodding briefly, “I wouldn't let the opportunity slip by if it was offered,” It was a unanimous yes from all of them, the hummed agreement not too surprising. 

“Done!” yeonjun smashes one last key before stretching big, “finally fucking submitted, and right before we have to leave, im surprised the staff hasnt gotten around to our room yet to kick us out,”

Taehyun pulls his hat from his face, sitting up with a yawn, “good, i needed my bed two hours ago,” 

It always felt so good to sleep in on a saturday after a study session like this, you could already feel how cozy it would be to wrap up in your blanket. And even if the mattress was shit with or without the foam topper, it was better than laying out in the chairs like taehyun just was.  

All of you cleaned up the space, making sure to tuck in the chairs, pick up the discarded cups of late night bad decision coffee. Squishing in the elevator together, bags bumping into one another before you filed out; passing all the empty desks and empty aisles of books to make it out the front door. 

As soon as the outside air hits your cheeks you know it’s going to feel like a long walk back to the dorms. the boys tucking their ears into hoodies, zipping their jackets up, you and kai lived in the dorms on the opposite side of campus from the rest of them, their walk shorter by only a few minutes. 

“Okay we’re still on for dinner tomorrow right?” Kai asks the group. 

beomgyu’s jumping on the balls of his feet to try to generate some warmth. “literally just text us, I cannot think about tomorrow when i’m this cold and sleepy,”

“Yes, we’re still on, I've been craving anything other than dining hall food for the past week,” yeonjun adds, shivering as he pulls the straps of his bag closer to his chest. “We'll still meet up back here like usual,” he was walking backwards as he said it, already a few steps behind the others, “but see you guys tomorrow or should I say ‘i’ll be right back!’” he jokingly yells while the others wave goodbye. 

“don’t play jjunie, you might be next! don’t trust anyone!” He gives you a silent salute in response as you and Kai head out for your walk. 

Instinctively the two of you are shoulder to shoulder, bumping into one another every other step. Silence following each muffled step on the pavement. Sometimes the two of you didn't say anything until you split on the elevators. a quick ‘goodnight’ or ‘see you tomorrow’ thrown out as you step out on your floor, waving as the doors closed back up so he could go up one more level. Other nights it was the two of you giggling trying to keep it down as you walked under the moonlight, too late to be loud. 

You wrap your arms around yourself, shivering as the wind hits the treeline. spots of orange light from the spaced out street lights are rare, casting the two of you in darkness every time the moon is behind the clouds; every several feet the hash light is back in your path. 

“So you'd live? In a horror movie?” Kai asks, hands shoved deep into his pockets, shoulders to his ears from the cold. The wind is hitting him right in the face, tossing his hair from his eyes where he liked to keep it. He asks it so softly, the question highlighted in the divot of his brow, nose pink, face washed in the glow from the moon. 

“I'm not really a virgin so…,” it's not an embarrassing confession but when it's this late with his eyes trained solely on you it's like a spilled glass of red wine on white sheets. Impossible to look away from. 

“You wouldn't live for knowing how people survive?” 

“The smart ones usually die from bad luck, they know to head for the car waiting in the lot but forget the keys or if the keys are still in the ignition they never check the back seat. They know if you run into the woods to escape you can hide, but how unlucky for a rusty forgotten bare trap to be waiting for your next step. or if you miss that one here's a log to trip over, only to tumble down a hill and break your neck. Call the police? You're in the one movie a phone works only for you to forget never trust anyone because the police work for the killer,” 

“So none of us make it?” It's such an open question the way he asks it, the hopeful twinge hitting the ending, twisting it into something it shouldn't be. Written right over his features the soft words unsaid, can't we? There has to be a way.

“This isn't a movie kai, we’re fine,” 

“I know, it's only a question,” he's so easily flustered when alone, second guessing everything he says, as if one slip up will make you hate him. Now he's blushing, both of you falling back into comfortable silence. You can tell he's thinking by the way he's biting at his cheek, eyes watching his feet, making sure not to miss one step. You assume it's the end of what he has to say, his silence following you all the way back to your floor. The elevator doors opened finally giving him the courage to speak up. “Do you…” 

“Hum?” you lift your arm to hold the doors open, turned to see him struggling to get the words out. 

“Do you want to come with me to my parents cabin,” he says it all in a rush, avoiding looking you in the eyes just in case you reject him. “I mean you don't have to, the guys won't be there and if it makes you uncomfortable-” he cuts himself off, hand at the back of his neck, trying to rub away his embarrassment, “forget it- forget i said anything,” 

“It's okay, I'd love to go. where is it?” 

“Um it's like two hours from campus, my parents need me to check on it just cause and i thought, why not make a weekend of it? I mean, you can finally sleep on a real mattress, not whatever was issued here,” 

A weekend away did sound good, perfect after the semester you were having. And Kai is as sweet as they come, spending time with him wouldn't be bad at all. “Sure, when are you thinking?” 

“Next week?” 

It was all so very innocent, a sweet boy asking a girl to join him on a weekend getaway. He even packed you snacks for the drive, let you pick all the music, and made sure to carry your bag in when you arrived. 

You weren't stupid enough not to realize why you were here and the other boys didn't get an invite. The whole week you thought it over, pushing around the idea of being with him. And you could tell he was tossing it around all throughout the drive, periodically blushing without saying a thing to you, hands tightening on the steering wheel; knuckles turning white from the pressure. 

Halfway through the drive you realized exactly what he meant by cabin. Not the kind sitting near the edge of a trail, but one hidden deep into the woods for perfect seclusion. Kai had a late class to make up for and the two of you didn't get started on the drive until the sun was already setting behind the trees. Every shadow thrown across the road drew longer and longer as the car kept on. 

The gravel driveway leading up to the cabin was a stretch, but when you finally broke past the winding path the gleaming two story was not very cabin like. The windows reflecting the cars headlights back at you expanded most of the first level. Wraparound porch dotted with chairs, and a swinging bench. As soon as kai killed the engine the silence stumbled in, darkness spilling over the scene as you climbed out of your seat. 

“This place is huge,” you whisper, as if anything louder would disrupt the peace of the outdoors. You held your phone's flash up in front of you, huening fumbling to put the key into the lock on the first try. Each attempt from his shaking hand failed.

“Here,” you took the key into your own hand, twisting the knob and pushing the door open. 

“Sorry,” his voice wavering as he flips on the light switch, “i'm just- you know-,” he cuts himself off not wanting any more embarrassment to follow him. 

As soon as the lights come on you can't see anything outside, the windows a reflection of the room. A tv hanging over a huge stone fireplace, welcoming couches spaced out in a semi circle around a wooden coffee table, a bar topped with dusty glasses pushed in the corner. Kai kicks off his shoes by the door, walking further in you notice the dark hallway leading deeper into the first floor, a staircase waiting right by the entrance. But kai ignores it all while walking towards the kitchen. 

“I mostly have to check the doors and windows to make sure no one broke in,” he's trying to fill the silence, rambling to kill his nerves,”one year we had someone steal the tv, we don't really leave much now just incase, so that's why it looks so empty,” 

“People actually drive all the way out here and break in? The last time i saw a turn off the road before this one was an hour ago,” 

“You never know, it's best to just check and fill out a report sooner rather than later,” in the kitchen the backdoor is made of two foggy planes of glass, only the outline of kai seen in the weavering shape. He twists the knob and to your surprise it gives way and opens, “damn one of my sisters must have forgotten to lock it last they were here,” You lean your hip against the kitchen island, taking his explanation as is. 

“They come out here to check too?”

“Rarely they mostly come with their friends but stopped when they realized there is zero phone service this far out,” 

“There isn't?” you hadn't even checked to see if your phone was working, “what if someone had broken in? You have no phone to make a call from,” 

He chuckles pointing past your shoulder, right on the end of the counter a sleek black cordless landline rests in its holder, the blinking red light showing one waiting voicemail. “Sometimes it can be spotty but for the most part its a solid line of communication,” 

Hand still on the knob of the backdoor he locks the door before walking over to the pantry, finding only a crate of dusty wine and a stack of old jiffy pop popcorn. 

“Wait, I didn't think they made these anymore,” you reach out for the thin metal handle attached to the panshapped popcorn container. Shaking it you hear the rattle of the kernels, “when i was younger i thought it was just something people had in movies,” 

“My sisters and i love the stuff, it's also easy to pop outside over the fire,” 

“So all you leave is popcorn and wine when you're not staying here?” you tap the crate of wine with your foot, his grin boyish and shy. 

“It's a good thing for us now i guess,” 

It's what leads you to sharing the bottle, passing it by the neck as he gives you a tour of the house. His lips right at the spout, nerves loosening up with each sip he takes, creaking steps leading up the second floor. “And here is my room,” 

It’s right at the end of the hall, bed neatly made with a single stuffed penguin sitting against the pillows. “You left him here all alone?” You ask, picking up the plushie, Kai's standing in front of the closet, the slatted doors making up most of the wall behind him facing the bed. 

He shrugs placing the half full wine bottle down on his dresser, “someone needed to protect my prize possession,” he falls right onto the mattress, head thrown back, hair spilling against the pillows, “i always sleep so good in this bed,” cheeks flushed from the wine, half lidded eyes watching you from under his lashes. It's an invitation you don't pass up. 

You climb in after him, feeling relaxed from drinking even if it was only a little bit, you can tell it's helped him too, his lazy smile so blissful. “I'm sure this bed is good for other things too,” you don't even care about being bold, not alone with him under you as you dip your head, nose brushing his. 

The first kiss is so soft, a brush of lips together lasting no longer than a second. Kai whines in the back of his throat, an ache for more hidden in the desperate sound. It's addicting to have someone seem so needy for your attention, his legs instinctively tangling with yours, hand at the back of your neck pulling you back down for another kiss.

The two of you fumbling to feel at each other, your hand sliding up under his shirt to touch his warm skin, his stomach flexing at the brush of your cold fingertips. His hand at your waist pulling you closer to him, needing you as close as he can get you. The kiss is sloppy in seconds, his tongue sliding against yours, noses bumping as you breath in each other.  You can feel that he's semi-hard, pressed against your thigh between his legs. 

He's a mess, whimpering when you pull away to take off your sweater, leaving you braless in a tank top. greedy hands back on you, pulling you back down on top of him, he’s grinding onto you desperately, fully hard from only kissing. 

every little noise he makes is caught in your mouth, his fingers fumbling for the button on your jeans. you have to pull away after his failed attempt, giggling as you brush his hair back, “it’s okay to take it a little bit slow huening we have all night,” you remind him, “I don’t want you cumming in your jeans when it could be in or on me,” he's looking up at you with total devotion, with an expression that lets you know he'd let you do anything if you asked. 

“Please?” and it doesn't even matter what he's begging for, you would let him do just about anything in return for looking at you like that. 

You're quick to rid yourself of your pants, falling back to the bed and letting him roll on top of you. Hands in his hair as he presses into you, one hand holding himself up while the other snakes down between you two. The soft gasp you let out eggs him on, drawing soft circles over your clothed clit like he knows exactly what to do. You twist your fingers into his hair, his lips tracing down your neck, hips back to grinding into your thigh. At first you don't notice the smell of popcorn. It's faint upstairs, wafting in through the vents, buttery and warm as kai slips his fingers into you. Your hips rolling on his hand, meeting every thrust, heel of his palm pressed to your clit. 

It isn't until the popcorn starts to burn that you say something, the tang in the air subtle as kai sucks hickeys on your sensitive skin. “Is something on fire?” 

Kai pulls away from the crook of your neck, “what the fuck?” breathing deeply to catch the scent. It's clear in the air now, hanging around like a question. “Stay here,” 

it's so unceremonious when he pulls his hand from your panties, fingers dropping onto his tongue to clear them, “i'll be right back, okay?” 

“O-okay,” you're confused more than anything, knees pulling in feeling overly exposed all of a sudden. It's silent in the house, the soundtrack of your kissing dimmed to nothing, before it's replaced with the creaking of his dissipating steps down the stairs. 

You feel a little foolish sitting in his bed, the crumpled sheets and discarded plushie a reminder that this is not normal for a hook up at all. Letting out a long breath you push out of the bed, all relaxation felt before now gone as you reach for the wine bottle on the dresser. You take a heavy swig from the bottle, needing your courage back. It felt silly to worry over burnt popcorn. 

Your stomach turns, sickening realization settling in. the two of you had only picked up the wine, neither of you even put the jiffy pop close to the stove's burners. You're quick to look for your phone, checking in the pile of your clothes on the floor, and finding nothing. Your bag was by the door downstairs, right next to the shoes, if your phone wasnt up here it was bound to be in your bag. 

You didn't say anything as you made it to the top of the stairs, not until the phone rang. Not the familiar song that came through your speakers but the deft echo of a warning siren. The kind of ringtone that was played in a movie when someone was receiving bad news, and it didn't stop, traveling up the stairs, playing once, twice, until nothing but silence. 

“Huening?” your voice wasn't as strong as you wished, faulting at the end as you took your first step down the stairs. 

No response. 

The last step creaks under your weight, the sound triggering the phone, that chilling ringtone back in the air. All the lights are on, nothing outside the windows visible as you watch your reflection walk past. You look right at the front door as you walk past, all of your things still in place, even Kai's shoes are still right where he left them. 

In the kitchen you find the ringing phone, the little screen bright green as it shows the incoming call. The skins faucet turned on, the pelting water beating down on the thin aluminum foil of the jiffy pop, hastily tossed into the basin. Thin rivulets of smoke still curling from the singed popcorn. The stove's gas burner still lit with a blue flame. 

The ringing continues as you turn everything off, feeling suddenly too cold and alone standing under the golden lights. It doesn't help that you're only dressed in your panties and tanktop, bare feet padding across the tile to pick you the phone. 

Unknown caller. Read the directory, not even the number shown underneath. You hit answer before you could think better of it. 

“Hello?” your pulse was in your ears, washing down your neck, but you're stunned to recognize the voice over the phone. 

“What's your favorite scary movie?” 

You can't help but laugh, the sound bubbling up before you respond, “kai, are you using the ghostface voice on me right now? You already had your hand down my pants no need for the theatrics,” 

You can't even pick up a trace of his real voice over the filter, the soft chuckle on the other line trickling down your spine. “You didn't answer my question, you have to have a favorite, what comes to mind?”

“So we’re quoting the movie now?” you ask, looking around the kitchen, leaning back against the countertop. “Should i go all in and start asking to make it to the sequel?” 

He chuckles, so soft and sensual, unlike his usual boisterous laugh. “Maybe…but a little birdie told me that you're not a virgin and you know what happens to those who sleep around right?” 

“Enlighten me,” you cross your arms smiling at your reflection in the window. It's a bit silly to be here roleplaying in the first place but it's not like you're against it. What gets you is that it's coming from kai of all people. So soft and sweet, giggling and shyly walking you home. But you truly never know what a persons into until you're faced first with it. 

“They don't last very long,” so smug as he says it. 

“They don't?” 

“Nope, and you have a list of things that you've already done wrong. I don't know if you truly deserve to make it to the sequel,” 

“Oh? What did I do wrong?” you smile, checking out your nails, thumb running along the bed of your cuticles as you listen. 

“Humm, let me see. First you're all alone in that big old house, did anyone ever tell you never to go into the dark and scary woods all alone?” 

“I'm not alone, i have you,” 

He ignores the last half of your statement, “Aren't you? hum, funny how i don't see the boytoy around anymore,” 

“I can't believe you planned all of this, who knew you would be so freaky? I can't say that it doesn't turn me on though,” 

“Oh? How cute that you still think I'm your little boyfriend. I mean didn't you see the signs? The door was unlocked in the back, popcorn on the stove when you didn't put it there, and now a missing boy toy. It's a shame you seem to have forgotten everything you've learned in class, or maybe it was the wine,” 

“A few sips won't make me stupid, seriously huening come out, i want to get back into your bed,” you push off the counter, walking back toward the living room until you're stopped dead in your tracks. The sound isn't coming from the phone but just up ahead around the corner.

Your laugh echoes in the empty house, followed by your own words, “it’s okay to take it a little bit slow huening, we have all night, I don’t want you cumming in your jeans when it could be in or on me,” 

You follow each line into the living room, the tv on and showing a video of only minutes ago. 

“Please?” kais weavering voice seems so loud here instead of between you two. 

You can see yourself push down your pants, watch the way the two of you fall right back into each other. Only now you're seeing it from the perspective of the closet, it's the only place you could think of that he would have placed the camera. The slats of the wood even in frame. It's like someone dropped a bucket of ice water on top of you. Standing in front of the tv as if you're Carrie from the prom and someones set up a cruel joke. 

“Cute huh?” the voice over the phone asks, that little laugh following right after, “i sure think it is. Look at the way your body reacts to his fingers, you’ll be that pretty for me won't you?” 

You feel the hair on the back of your neck rise, the house too big for this kind of game. Even just standing there now alone it felt like you were a fish in a bowl, stuck to be watched from all sides. And not from the video but from the figure standing right on the outside of the window. 

He was dressed in all black, nothing like what kai had been wearing before. And covering his face the dripping white mask of ghostface. You only catch a glimpse because the lights are on but it's enough to remind you that maybe this isn't a joke. “Are you outside?” 

“I don't know? Am i?” but as he says it you see down the hallway a dark figure step out of a doorway. 

Everything in you freezes, your heart rate plummeting, a cold sweat breaking out across your skin. You hadn't even noticed your fingers had been trembling before, not until your deathgrip on the phone starts to hurt. “Don't hang up on me,” he warns over the line, but the person down the hall doesnt even have a phone in sight, his slow prowl reminding you to move. 

You take off back towards the kitchen, the back door playing in your head as the best possible exit but as soon as you're in front of it, tugging on a door knob needs to be unlocked you see the haze reflection of two more figures waiting right against the glass. You can hear the laugh of the person on the phone even if it's not to your ear as you rush to pull open any drawer that might have something in it to protect you. But every pull leads you to find nothing at all, “what the fuck!” 

The door shakes as they try to pull it open, the glass rattling as you lift the phone back to your ear, “okay huening, that's enough, i get it, ha ha, funny, but seriously-” 

“Were you looking for a knife?” he cuts you off, voice so calm when you're falling apart. 

“What?” you're exasperated, huffing the question like it's a slap in the face. 

“I know where one is, if you want it,” 

It's then that the masked man from the hall comes into the kitchen, the steel knife in his hands glinting in the light. “You have to be fucking kidding me right now,” youre desprate to find an explanation for this. The island is between the two of you, his head tilting to the side, the open mouth of the mask mocking you as he takes slow steps around the marble. You're matching his every move, both of you circling the kitchen like two fighters waiting for the ding of a bell. 

The door rattles again, the sound making you yelp, hand pressed to your racing heart. It's the distraction you need to bolt right through the kitchens arch way and run to the front door. 

You're moving so fast you have little time to slow down, partially slamming into the door, fingers fast to twist the locks. 

As soon as it's opened you're standing face to face with another ghostface mask, his black clad outfit sticking to his figure as he towers over you, phone hovering right over the mask's gaping mouth. “Hum not out the front door i guess,” 

You try to slam the door shut but his boot clad foot moves fast catching it right before it could close completely. Spinning you run towards the stairs, the sound of their following footsteps close behind. The door to the bedroom is still wide open as you barrel through turning around and throwing the door closed and twisting the lock. 

But it's only a moment of relief when you feel a hand clasp around your mouth. Your scream is muffled from their fingers, your eyes closing as if that would fix the situation, the phone in your hand falling to the floor, “Shhh it's okay,” Kai whispers, a strong arm wrapping around your middle pulling you closer to him. 

The weight is lifted off your shoulders hearing his voice, hands wrapping around the one covering your mouth to tug it away. “What is going on?” you ask, pulling yourself away from him. your back is to the door and he steps closer backing you right up against it. 

“Didn't you say you found it kinda hot, the whole fear thing?” he asks, leaning close enough to kiss, “i wanted to make it extra special for you, and you don't mind if we all share you, right?” his knuckle lifts your chin up so you’re eye to eye, nose to nose, his normal shy smile turned devilish. “All you have to do is say no,” 

It was crazy to say yes. your heart still pounding, breathing only just starting to regulate, and yet you want him, you want them. “I-I don’t- I don’t want to say no,” 

“Then don’t,” he pushed his whole body against yours, engulfing you in his warmth, taking you for another kiss like you hadn’t left the room at all. You don't even notice him unlocking the door, not until the knob is shaking against your back. 

Kai pulls you towards the bed, the closet doors behind him open showing the empty space with a lone camera on a tripod. The red light looking back at you like a warning, you looked right down the barrel of the lens wondering if you would ever see this again, and praying that you did. Kai fit his fingers over you eyes, “don't look at it, don’t think about its there,” 

You hear a chuckle, so similar to the one over the phone, only without the filter. Now so easily recognizable as yeonjun, you can picture the way his mouth looks as he does it, his canines on display as he smirks. You don't even have to see him to know, you've known all of them so long you're sure one touch and you could guess who was who. And with both of kais hands on your eyes the brush of someone's fingers on your cheek lets you know exactly who it is. Soobins hands are the softest of the bunch and your face tilts in his direction. “Soobin?”

he lets out a huff of a laugh, “you caught me. And you know it's kind of rude not to open the back door when we come knocking,” 

“You scared me,” it's a soft confession that they all chuckle at. 

“Did we?” beomgyu teases, so much closer than you expected, the ghost of his touch going up your arm, goosebumps popping up along the trail. 

Your senses are on overdrive, pulse loud enough to be heard if one listens close enough, every little thing heightened by your fading fear and covered eyes. You feel a hand slip down your stomach stopping right before your panty line, a single finger sliding under the waistline to pull it and let it snap back against your skin. You jolt from the contact, body flush with kai’s, his hard cock pressed to your back. 

You hear rustling from the closet, and kai lets you go, letting you see yeonjun taking the camera in hand. He's adjusting the viewfinder, the others standing in a circle around you, it should be intimidating, the masks off now, looking at you like you're something to eat. It's taehyun that steps forward first, thumb reaching out to drag across your bottom lip. You open your mouth letting him press the digit flat against your tongue. 

“You’ll be good for us, won't you?” he asks, and you close your mouth sucking his finger as you nod. He smirks, “i want first,” 

It's all he says before he's pushing you down on the bed. It's so quick the air is almost knocked right out of you, your hands scrambling to find purchase on the beds duvet cover. It's almost a shame how wet you already are, the way your panties are cut away, the cold knife in taehyuns free hand only just brushing your skin. The fabric tossed around from person to person. “I did most of the work,” kai adds as you bury your face into the sheets, “she wouldn't be this prepped if i didn't start early,” 

“And that's why you have to wait,” “You didn't even get her off,” they talk over each other.  

“You guys didn't give me time!” kai tries but they ignore him when you give a sharp whine. 

Taehyun shoves his fingers right into you, your body so willing to take him in. but you hear his belt being undone with one hand, and it's a shame you cant see the way his cock looks from this angle, because as he pressed the tip right at your entrance, slick fingers helping to lude up his veiny shaft, you can tell he's going to be the perfect stretch. 

Your moan as he sinks into your warm heat is echoed by the rest of them, a choir of the perfect voices turned husky and wanting. “Holy shit,” teahyun breathes his hand pressed right to your lower back, your feet dangling right off the edge of the bed, toes only just barely touching the ground. 

“Doesn't she feel amazing?” kai asks, “fuck i bet she fits like a fucking dream,” gyu adds as he walks over to the other side of the bed climbing in to lay against the headboard. His zipper was already undone, pants low on his hips as he watched you get pounded into. 

Because tae was not holding back anymore, it felt like he had been waiting all night for this exact moment, to chase his high without question. And your pussy was so welcoming, sucking him in, practically begging for his cum. 

Yeonjun walked around the bed, zeroing the camera in on you as your legs bend, heel of your feet pushing on taes thighs. Taehyun wraps his hands in your hair, tugging your head back, extending your throat to the camera, arching your back just right, “i want to be able to watch back how you looked while i fucked you okay?” 

“Oh, look at that, huening marked up our toy already,” soobin reaches out a finger, tracing over the hickey kai had left on your skin, your eyes were wide and begging as you watched him, mouth caught open in a moan as taes thrusts turned sloppy. “Fuck, look at that mouth,” 

yeonjun bent down to catch the image. “I think someone needs to fill it,” 

Soobin didn't need to be told twice. He was tugging his cock out of his jeans, leaking precum already dotting the tip as he gave it long languid strokes. Your mouth was already watering at the sight, knowing taking him down your throat would be a task but one you wouldn't back away from. 

But taehyun was already cumming, orgasm cresting as he slammed his hips into your ass, cock twitching as he let out a deep rumbling moan. He let go of your hair, head falling forward into the duvet as he stilled inside you pressing as close as he could get, the tip of his cock hitting you just right as he spilled inside you. 

“I want next!” gyu calls out, raising his hand like he knows the answer to a question. 

“No-” soobin starts but beomgyu is already moving from his stop on the bed as taehyun pulls out, the gush of warmth leaving your cunt dripping down your thighs. Yeonjun is quick to catch the sight on film. 

“Look at that,” it sounds so endearing coming from him, a true sight to behold as you whine from the feeling of being empty. You feel like a ragdoll as soobin pulls on you, tugging you further up the bed so that you're on your hands and knees in front of him. 

“Open,” his tip is already prodding at your lips. You feel the bed dip behind you, gyu finding his place as he drags his fingers through the leaking cum traveling down your legs, he does his best to shove it right back into you, fingers dragging over your clit, circling it as soobin shoves his cock right into your mouth. 

You give a muffled yelp, tongue flattening to make it easier for him to slide in and out of. His head is rolling back, hair spilling around his ears as he moans. He twists his fingers in your hair, both hands wrapping around your head to bob you up and down on his dick like his own personal toy. You're nails dig into the sheets, the sloppy sounds of him fucking your throat taking up the most sound. 

Beomgyu keeps one hand on your clit and the other guides his cock into you, he's quick to snap his hips forward sending you forward on soobin, until you're choking for air. Moans sending vibrations up along soobins shaft. His eyes tighten, needing to pull away before he cums too quickly, face flushed red as rivulets of your saliva still connect you to him. 

The constant pressure put on your clit from beomgyus fingers has your stomach tightening in knots. Now that you're not taking soobin in beomgyu picks up his pace, the skin on skin slapping sounds melding with your whines. “I want you to cum for me, i want to be the first one to make you cum, please,” he sounds so desperate, not matching the way he drills into you, tip hitting your cervix in a mix of painful pleasure. He can feel your fluttering walls, every particularly hard thrust making your cunt react just right. And when you cum hes a blubbering mess, “fuck fuck fuck-” not expecting to cum so fast, but youre drawing it out of him, with each little sound you make. He's almost embarrassed by how long he cums for, head falling forward to rest on your shoulder blade, his dick pulsing inside you, curses turning to nonsense, the drawn out, “fuuu- ahh, ah,”  

“Look at how pretty she looks when she cums,” yeonjun smiles, bringing the camera close to catch the way you are trying to blink the spots from your vision, “soobin next? Or maybe kai? Both of them seem to have waited so long for you,” 

Kai leans back against the dresser, arms crossed as he watches you, expressionless as he follows the shape of your body. Only one of your tank tops straps are on, your breasts already spilling out from the thin fabric, soobins eyes caught on your peaked nipples as he strokes himself. But you look back over to huening, the way he's standing there like he's unaffected at all. But you know it's not true, not when he's straining in his pants, the bulge itself drives you insane. “Hyuka?” 

The shyness in your voice is what does it for him, beomgyu only just pulling out of you with a hiss. More cum dribbling out as he pushes his hair back looking at his handiwork. Yeonjun is right next to him too, getting the perfect shot. 

Taehyun languidly lounges back against the headboard, cock still hard as it rests against his stomach, hand wrapped around the base as he watches you. It distracts you enough not to see kai moving replacing gyus spot. 

Kai wraps his hand in your hair but unlike taehyun he forcefully pushes your head down into the mattress. The whole mit of his hand cups your skull, your whimper making him chuckle. His free hands traced up your side, slipping under your tank top as he feels along your skin. “You know I was thinking about this the whole walk back after our study night?” his hand dips down fingers sliding along your wetness, “i kept thinking about how perfect it would be to absolutely ruin you,” 

You're already sensitive from finishing already and kai can tell as your thighs tremble but it wont stop him from pinching your clit. Your hips push back against him, yelping as he goes on to rub circles over the bundle of nerves. “Seeing it happen- watching you get used as a little cum dump is so much better than I ever imagined,” he works your clit, building up his speed until your back is arching, nails biting into your palm as you feel your orgasm building too quickly. You're trying to rock back into his hand but the way he has you bent helps very little. Your cries heighten until he pulls it all away. 

“No huening please!” 

“Aww how cute, she's begging,” beomgyu laughs and you're whimpering in response. 

“Kai…please!” 

“You're already doing so well because i want you begging to be filled with my cum, crying from how badly you want it,” his hand goes back to your cunt, pressing into your clit rubbing at a pace that has you seeing stars, your hands scratch out for looking for anything to hold onto. Yeonjun takes your hand in his keeping the camera facing your reaction as your eyes roll back. Its in the middle of your climax that kai pushes his cock into you, finding a punishing rhythm as he fucks you into the matterss. 

“Beg for it,” he growls, hand in your hair twisting in the strands. You can feel him all the way to your throat, stretched out so good, he presses right into your gspot like he was made for you. 

“P-please- hyuka i need it- i-” you cant even get the words out anymore, the squeaking of the bed building as he increases his speed. You can hear the wet sounds of the other boys jerking off, “i want your c-cum, i need it,” 

“Louder,” yeonjun mutters in front of you, your death grip on his hand not loosening anytime soon. 

“I want it! I need your cum, please!” But Huenings is so lost chasing his own high that he drops his hand from your clit to grab your hip, his bruising hold and brutal thrusts making you cry out. 

Beomgyu reaches down under you, fingers finding just the right rhythm to send you over the edge at the same time kai cums. His faltering thrusts and throaty moans makes you feel weak. Your cunt is strangling his cock, his release pushed as deep as he could get it into you. When he pulls out you collapse onto the bed, completely used up. 

It feels never ending body too tired already when you feel soobin climb into the bed. He lays right behind your exhausted form, both of you on your sides facing yeonjun, “look who's next, do you think you could get another one out of her? I hear you're only a freak in theory and not practice,” 

But soobin doesn't take the bait, one hand sliding under you and wrapping around your chest, hand coming up to cup your breast, fingers twisting your hard nipple, and the other lifting your leg to get better access to your leaking cunt. Your thighs are so sticky soobins fingers slip on his hold, having to tighten his grip to make sure he can keep you open. He's been ready since the start, his cock aching as it prods your now puffy swollen cunt, so used you're sure you would be sore for days. 

When he sinks in your whimpers are so soft they are hardly heard. Yeonjun is kneeling on the floor, arm holding the camera resting on the bed. He captures the way soobins dick slides in with ease, no resistance now with how much slick is coming out of you. Every drag of soobins cock comes away stained in white. A ring of the combined cum circling the base, balls sticking to your skin with every thrust. 

His breathy moans are lost against your neck, pitiful little sounds before he's muttering, “im sorry, oh god- im-” 

“Don't you dare cum yet,” yeonjun warns soobin, who pauses his thrusts trying to listen but can't find it in him to restrain. Yeonjuns fingers pinch at your clit, your whole body reacting to the feeling, jolting you back to life as you cum. soobin unable to handle the pressure and is a complete mess, whimpering as he pulls you closer, hugging you as if he could merge bodies. 

It took him a while to finally pull out, a much needed break for only a few breaths before yeonjun passes the camera to taehyun to keep the filming going. You can feel the weakness all the way down to your bones, sure if you stand you could collapse to the floor, legs too weak to hold you up. But yeonjun is looking at you like you're being served on a silver platter, all done up with all the best fixings. 

“Best for last huh?” he grins climbing over you brushing under your eye to catch a single tear that's fallen from your overstimulation. “Its so fun to see you so dumb on cock, so unlike how we usually see you,” 

You hum in response as he pushes your legs open, hands at the back of your knees pushing them to your chest. When he puts them over his shoulders you whimper, reaching out to wrap your arms around his neck as he sinks into your wet heat. Bent in half you feel your toes curling, sure that if you came one more time you would be better off sleeping for the next year. “I think this is good practice, don't you?” he asks like you'll respond to him with anything other than a string of muffled whimpers. Your body is coated in a thin layer of sweat, sticking to his skin as he takes a slow pace. It's like he's apologizing, lips peppering across your cheek, down your neck. “We’ll keep you so happy, stuffed full like you deserve. Would you like that?” 

You're nodding, eyes closing as he uses you. You don't even notice the way your body is reacting, that slow rise of your next orgasm building up, “i-” you can’t think about cumming again already feeling so dumbed out. 

“Hum? Are you going to cum, pretty?” he picks up his pace, sinking his hips and hitting you right against your g spot. Your head rolls back as it washes over you, body tightening until you feel like you’ve combusted into little particles. “Oh look at that, so perfect for me, your pussy feels so good when it's squeezing me like this,” it's all he says before he’s trembling, a guttural moan taking over as he cums, you swear you can feel its warmth spreading throughout you. And when he pulls out he takes the camera back from taehyun focusing it in on the sight of all the combined release staining your folds. 

“Look at how she pushes it out,” beomgyu says, mesmerized by the way you look leaking so much cum. But it's Kai who leans down, fingers collecting anything he can before shoving all the cream right back into you. “Its almost like she wants us to fuck it right back in,” 

🏷taglist: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @stwq2349 @isa942572 @tomorrowxforever r @beestvng @soobingf-blog @lovinjjong @lola-horore-553 @cypher-03 @midnight-mochii i @hueningwhy @choibeomning @soobinbunnie5 @yunjinswifee @cupidtaehyun @bamgeutsz @prince-jjae @nessaassen02 @iluvhyukaa @mrsjohnnysuh @wand3rlustm3

thank you so much to @beomiracles @prince-jjae and @thetxtdevil for beta/proofreading the first part of this fic!

[ilguna]

☼ one true love (Peeta Mellark) ☼

summary; to everyone else, you're nothing but a rebound to Peeta. to Peeta, you are his one true love.

warnings; swearing, death mention.

wc; 3k

notes; no katniss slander, but there is gale slander ;)

–

The nerves are eating you from the inside out. One minute you think you’re going to be sick all over the concrete floor, so you’re in the bathroom hanging your head over the toilet. The next minute, you’re back on your feet, pacing back and forth in front of the door. You can’t sit still anymore, it’s not an option.

What are you supposed to say to him? It’s only a matter of time before he lands in District Thirteen with the other captured victors. Will he even want to see you? Is Katniss going to be the first person he asks for? You saw him on the television a few days ago, he was talking about her, worried about her wellbeing.

The last time you saw each other was before the Quarter Quell reaping. It was brief, because he needed to go on stage, and you were late traveling from your neighborhood to get to the Justice Building. All he did was kiss you, and then he was gone.

You think he was expecting to say goodbye, like the Peacekeepers usually allow, but when you tried to go inside, they told you that the rules changed. And before you could think to start running to the train station, they told you that there was no farewell there, either. That was it.

You couldn’t breathe, you were sure that would be the last time you’d ever see him, and it was cut short because you couldn’t leave the house a couple minutes earlier. But you were so, so mad at him for the months leading up to the reaping. It was a nightmare being with him.

His time was consumed with training, he was constantly talking about volunteering over Haymitch if the opportunity presented itself. He wouldn’t listen to a single thing you said. You hardly spent time with him, and when you did, you would’ve been happier by yourself. He became a new person, one you didn’t recognize, one that didn’t seem to like the idea of you half the time.

You almost didn’t want to go to the reaping. You knew what was to come, what was the point of showing up, besides to avoid getting in trouble with the Peacekeepers? And then all he could do was kiss you, because he was so pressed for time. He didn’t say anything to you. 

Suddenly, you turned the anger onto yourself, because you couldn’t believe you were so stupid to miss such a vital moment with him. 

You tried to make up for it. Even though the week leading up to the Quell was chaotic in District Twelve, as much as you were afraid to leave your house to see the mandatory viewings, you still did. You saw him everyday in the Square, and each time you got your heart broken because it was like it was never an act between him and Katniss.

You thought it was bad enough the first time around, because he didn’t know your feelings yet, and he was putting on this real show for the Capitol, but it’s so much worse, knowing that he feels the same way for you.

When you and Peeta had started talking again after he won the Hunger Games, your parents warned you that it would end up being a mistake. They knew how you felt about him before he was reaped, and how it wouldn’t change before he came back—if he came back. Even if he was kissing Katniss Everdeen in front of Panem. 

They were right about your feelings, of course. You and Peeta were close friends for years. You had classes together in school, and you’d hang out in the bakery every day after school. You’d sit there for hours, doing your homework, while also watching him pipe designs onto cakes and cookies for those who could afford to buy it.

You didn’t think he noticed the way you’d watch him throughout the day. The way his eyes would light up when talking about something he liked. Or maybe a new technique he discovered when making designs on cakes. How carefree he looked when doodling on his papers. The amount of times there would be a mini portrait of you in the corner of them.

While your whole day was centered around him, he had other things on his mind, like Katniss. Well, that’s how you felt when he announced his love for her in the interview. And then he came back with her, breaking the rules of the Hunger Games, completely enamoured with her. When you hadn’t gone to visit him in a whole two weeks after, he showed up at your door to see you, to make sure that you were okay. You tried to shrug him off, but he didn’t take that as an answer.

You thought that if you held him at arms-length, that it would be a distance between you two. If you’re not close, then there would be no point in keeping you around. After all, he does have other friends—other people he can surround himself with.

Fortunately for you, it didn’t work. You honestly should’ve known that it wouldn’t, because out of all the friends you’ve had since growing up, Peeta has by far been the most loyal out of them. He’s still here, and he’s seen you go through the motions. That’s why he figured out that he hurt you in some way while he was gone. 

He refused to leave you alone, he later told you that you were one of his last friendships he had since he won. Everyone else wasn’t seeing him the same way you did. While you saw him as human, and virtually the same person you had before he left, others saw him as the victim.

You remember being so flustered admitting your feelings to him. The hot feeling in your face, the tears that threatened to take over your eyes. The way your throat clogged, and the words croaked out. You didn’t even want to look him in the eyes, afraid to see his reaction, but it’s like you couldn’t look away. You needed to see the raw reaction in case he lied to you.

Peeta smiled.

It took a lot of explaining from him to get you to see how he was thinking after he was reaped. He needed help from sponsors, which meant that he had to play the Capitol in some way. And while what he said to Caesar in the interview wasn’t completely false, it wasn’t true either. He wasn’t settled on Katniss, because he knew if he won, he had someone better at home; you.

He wasn’t anticipating coming back with her. If he’d known, he would’ve played it differently. Katniss was completely indifferent to him, and he realized that after she looked for him once the announcement was made. As for you, he knew that if you were there with him, you wouldn’t have left his side, not even for a second.

He was happy you felt the same way he did, but he warned you that if you two started seeing each other more seriously, and possibly started dating, a lot of people would be unhappy. And at the end of the day, you could be one of those people. He wanted a relationship as much as you did, but the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you in the process.

Since that day, he tried to do everything he could to keep you, while also keeping the peace with the Capitol, even if they didn’t know what was happening between the two of you. There was a lecture from Haymitch—a man that you thought you’d never have to meet in your life—telling you that you’d have to be extremely careful to keep it from the Peacekeepers.

The Victory Tour was rough, considering he did a complete one-eighty with Katniss for the cameras. It got worse when you watched him propose to her in the Capitol. He didn’t tell you that this was planned, and he promised to keep you up to date if he could. You were nauseated for the rest of the week, really afraid that you’d done it to yourself.

You were the first person he came to see when he got back from the tour. From the moment you opened the door, it was a string of apologies, and a tight hug, reassuring you that it's not what he wanted. Him and Katniss were in trouble, and they were trying to do damage control. 

You watched all the mandatory viewings of Katniss trying on her dresses, the ones the Capitol liked the most, over the others. That was fine, it was easier to stomach, knowing that Katniss felt like she was playing dress-up for them. What wasn’t okay, was what happened next.

You were sitting with Peeta on the couch the night the Quarter Quell was announced. You two thought it was just another dress preview, and the rest of the night, you two were supposed to hang out. Then Snow said all the existing victors would be going back into the pool.

You remember seeing the color drain from his face, and panic seized his body. You opened your mouth to speak, but he was already excusing himself. He needed to talk to Haymitch, and it was a fairly long walk from your house to Victor’s Village. He pressed a quick kiss to your lips, and then he was gone. And you were left sitting in your living room, watching the Capitol react to the same news you’d just heard, wondering if they knew the effect this would cause.

It’s been a downward spiral since that day. You watched him go through that first week in the Capitol again, and it ended with him announcing Katniss’ fake pregnancy. You were inconsolable, watching him survive the cornucopia, just to almost die a few hours later because of a forcefield.

It was hard to swallow, but it was nothing compared to the fact that District Twelve was bombed on the third day. You don’t know how Gale knew where you lived, or why he chose you to save. 

You knew of Gale in high school, but didn’t think anything of him. He was just another surviving teenager, trying to get through with his head down and make it out of the reaping alive. You learned more about him when he was presented as Katniss’ cousin to Panem to keep him from being seen as a threat against Peeta. As for you, Peeta was able to claim that you were nothing but a loyal friend.

You and Gale only met in passing.

Even though Gale knew what you actually meant to Peeta, he still left his family out of the hundreds that were saved. They were just across the street from Katniss’ family, and he still let them get killed. While he traveled across the district to tell you that a hovercraft was coming because the district was going to be bombed by the Capitol.

You’re grateful you’re alive, and so is your family, but you will never forgive him for doing something so cruel. 

You feel the nausea rising in your stomach again, as you wipe your hands down your grey uniform to rid them of the collecting sweat. You’re sweeping your hair into one hand, really sure that you’re going to throw up this time, when the door to your dormitory opens.

You stop in your steps, turning to see who it is. You asked your parents to stay out for a little bit, because you really needed some time to think to yourself. You were almost put in the same room as Katniss and Finnick, so that you’d be able to receive the news of their arrival at the same time as them. Haymitch didn’t think it was appropriate, that’s why you were casted out, but said you’d be updated as soon as they landed.

Despite the fact that you and Peeta are very much dating, and he’s made it explicitly clear that he and Katniss are nothing but an act, you are seen as less than she is. In fact, the word they like to put on you is ‘rebound’. You’re Peeta’s rebound, because he couldn’t get Katniss.

You’ve tried to be patient with District Thirteen’s command, but they’re running it thin.

Haymitch Abernathy stands in your doorway, a grave look on his face. You don’t think he approves of you and Peeta, even though he tried his best to convince you two that he didn’t care what happened, as long as President Snow didn’t find out. 

“Peeta’s here.” He says.

“Oh, finally.” You breathe, letting go of your hair as you start toward the door, “Is he in the hospital?”

“(Y/n), stop.” Haymitch blocks the path. “Peeta’s not in the right state of mind. It’s going to be upsetting to see.”

“That’s fine.” You brush him off, “Can we go?”

“You don’t understand.” He sighs, “He tried to kill Katniss.”

You stare at him for a few seconds, while your brain tries to push through this information. He was just concerned about her not too long ago, and now he’s trying to kill her? 

You shake your head, “I want to see him, Haymitch.” 

He doesn’t like your persistence, but he leads the way to the hospital, anyway. The two of you move through the hallway, into the elevator, out, and through another series of hallways. You can hear the commotion from down the hallway, the shouting coming from the other side of the hospital doors.

Once you walk through them, you’re met with chaos. You stop for a second at the doors, wondering if it’s like this all the time in here, but when you realize that Haymitch is still moving, you get right back to following. You catch sight of Finnick with a girl, and presumably another victor strapped down with a shaved head, rolling her eyes at the nurse.

The further back you go, the calmer it gets. You can feel the anxiety building in your stomach the moment you step foot into a tense room that holds a few vaguely familiar faces. You know Plutarch Heavensbee, he was a former Gamemaker. You’ve talked to him a few times. And then there’s Beetee Latier, one of the victors that was inside of the arena. And among them are a few other people that you don’t recognize.

No one pays attention to you, the conversation lands on Haymitch as soon as they see him. You stand there for a few minutes, nerves settling slowly while the anger begins to rise.

You take a deep breath to calm yourself. “I want to see him.”

There are a few stunned faces as eyes land on you. As if you somehow just materialized out of the air, and they didn’t see you when you walked into the room behind Haymitch.

“That might not be a good idea.” A man says, looking over you. 

“You think that matters to me?” Your body’s trembling. He’s got to be on the other side of the door, the one that they’re blocking. You’re so close to him.

“Who are you?” He asks.

“If you all stopped smothering me, then you’d know that I’m his girlfriend.” You snap, “Not Katniss, me.”

Plutarch tilts his head, “Boggs has nothing to do with your current predicament, (Y/n). I’m going to give you access to see him, but you’ll return immediately if you see him getting violent, do you understand?”

You ignore his comment, deciding to keep the peace. “Yes.”

Several people move at once. While Beetee wheels himself across the room to press a button on the wall, which makes the wall to your left turn into a window, allowing you to see a preview of Peeta’s state. Boggs walks over to the door that you were looking at, pushing a key into the lock and turning it.

You don’t move from where you stand, lips parted as you let out a gasp at the sight of Peeta, strapped to a bed to keep from hurting himself and others. He’s lost all the muscle that took months for him to build up before going into the arena. He’s covered in black and blue bruises, there’s cuts across his skin.

You can feel the tears build in your eyes.

Peeta’s head lolls to the side at the sound of the key in the lock. He can’t even keep his eyes open.

“We gave him a sedative after he went after Katniss.” Haymitch explains, “He’s coming off of it.”

You start moving to the door. Boggs tries to stop you, maybe to give you some bullshit rules to follow while you’re inside, but you’ve already shoved him aside and forced yourself through the door before he can even say your name. 

Peeta’s eyes widen at the noise you cause coming through the door, jerking aggressively to see exactly who it is that’s entering the room. It takes him a second of looking you over, up and down, to realize it’s you. He relaxes into the bed, no longer pulling against the restraints, face smoothing over.

“(Y/n)...” He trails.

You can feel your teeth chattering, tears overflowing your eyes, “Peeta.”

“You’re here.” He breathes, “You’re okay?”

“I’m okay.” You sob, trying to wipe the tears away. You grab his hand, squeezing tightly, feeling another round of tears hit you when he holds on, refusing to let go. 

You lean over the railing, your other hand outstretched to touch his face, where the bruises lie on his sunken cheeks. The back of your fingers brush against his skin. He takes in a breath, eyes fluttering shut while he leans into your touch.

He doesn’t say anything for a long moment, until he slowly opens his eyes, “I missed you.”

“I’m never leaving you again.” You tell him, “I promise.”

[randomsufff]

HEHAHBFKI More South Park doodles I think I’m going insane.

Actually this is kind of the product of me being liking South Park way back in high school but was too embarrassed to draw them when I was bored in class and now it’s all kinda flooding back 💀

Read below if you want to know more about my New Kid and my thoughts behind some of the doodles cause this turned out longer then I though 💀

Anyways- introducing my New Kid. No name cause I literally have no idea. Whatever the cannon name is ig- though I’d think it’d be funny if she was referred to New Kid by literally everyone like in game. I like the idea that a lot of people have with their New Kids that they liked the makeover section with the girls during the Stick of Truth a little too much. I also like it cause… uh… I didn’t play Stick of Truth. (The combat system is not my cup of tea) So it’s not until the start of TFBW does she know shes really a girl.

To give context to the top right drawing- I couldn’t remember the dialogue Wendy says in the alleyway if you say you’re a trans girl- but I do know what she says if your a cis girl (I always knew you were a girl) cause I did a second play through as a cis girl. And I don’t know if there’s supposed to be a huge time jump between the end of Stick of Truth and TFBW but I think it would be funny if it was just the next day- so combine these two fact to get “Wendy always clocked New Kid as a girl but NK just found out yesterday 💀”

Anyways- she’s such a cutie, I love her and her cool superhero outfit I gave her. Outside of the game- I’d like to think of her basically exactly how she acts in game. Mostly non-verbal, with the occasional zingy one liner, and just kinda goes along with the crazy shit the happens in South Park un phased. Like if she was in a episode- the plot would happen and she would be on screen, but wouldn’t say anything, and anytime another character would address her, they’d respond however as if she spoke lmao. Aroace, just like me, so she’s just friends with everyone (except Cartman) and vibes with everyone.

The mini Style comic I though of cause 1) I wondered if Kyle had the same elf ears as the other elfs did in game (again, never played and it’s been a while since I saw gameplay so whoops if it’s confirmed or whatever) and 2) I thought it would be funny if Stan was caught lacking and tried to /rp his way out of it (I wanted to add an extra bit where Kyle would be like “Oh, are our characters gay for each other??? (ARE YOU /SRS OR /J STAN)” and Stan would have to just “yes, and” his way out.)

The last three images were kinda of a stream of consciousness put on paper and made neat lol. I really like showing that all the costumes the kids wear are homemade and stuff- either stuff taken from their parents or visibly taped together etc- cause I think it’s charming. Anyways- I though Kyle’s little robe could be like one of his parents bath robe- and it would be a little too long for him to run without eating shit so he’d have to hike it up like a skirt/dress. Which lead to me thinking that Cartman would say some shit about that and how Kyle, who has a literal Golf Club, would smack his ass up. Which then lead to me thinking about how since Kyle’s the Elf King and Stan’s basically his right hand how he might lift it up wedding dress style if needed (/RP GUYS, RIGHT?RIGHT???) and how Cartman would react, which lead to that one JoJo meme cause thats literally how they’d retaliate.

Always- I’ll probably have at least one more post about South Park I swear. There was a period of time before I stopped watching (I gotta pick it up again) where I would doodle a bit of whatever was happening in the episode, each episode. Crazy I know, but not only did it improve my drawing skills but it helped me remember what actually happened in episodes cause I have shit memory and definitely don’t remember some of the episodes I watched. So I might redraw some of those- see if anyone can tell what episode they’re from.

[dpmultibitches]

Mini Drabble: Nicknames

Aidan Al Ghul; 5 years old:

Aidan sat looking up at the sky, watching both the clouds and the stars as he hugged his knees to his chest well his brother doodled in the dirt with a stick. "Damian, what if we gave each other nicknames?" He heard the stick stop it's scratching in the dirt and felt his brother turn his eyes on him, probably wondering why he'd suggested it. "It could be fun, something that only we call each other. We probably should not let Grandfather know though." He turned his eyes away from the stars and looked at his brother, tilting is head slightly in question. "I could call you Dami, what do you think?"

Damian crossed his legs and set his stick across his lap as he looked at him for a moment, he wasn't entirely sure if he was deciding if he was going to go along with it or trying to decide on a nickname of his own for him. When he finally answered Aidan grinned at his answer. "If you insist, then I suppose I could call Danny. They sound similar so it's fitting."

"Then it is settled. Think fast Dami." He told him before lunching himself at his brother, laughing as his swung the stick at him. He managed to grab a hold of his own and soon they were in a mock sword fight with sticks, until their mother found them and scolded them before sneaking them back to their room.

[sprinklenoodles]

Read the first chapter, have some thoughts! Some simple ones before I go on a specific tangent and all!

As for my tangent, while reading the first chapter of A Heir's Journey but the more I think of it, Kijo kinda reminds me of Lusamine in an odd way. Not specifically here but I shall elaborate of course!!! The game version of Lusamine is absolutely awful but in the anime, she's much more doting, a bit clingy, but she means well despite her flaws. I'd mention Ultra Sun and Moon Lusamine as well since she's also a variant of her character but also like, I didn't play those so I only know so much about how different she is to her other game counterpart. I know she's kinda an awkward middle ground though due to the changes in who the main antagonist is in those games. But, where Kijo comes along in this is, like Lusamine, there are differing variants of him in your fics which I already mentioned the slight variants of characters being cool and interesting and being a sorta mini analysis of the character by showing different facets of their personalities depending on what au they're in. And like, it doesn't help that I am reading The Pokemon AU fic now and got reminded of Lusamine oddly enough. Like, in this fic, I can already feel the lot nicer side of Kijo showing as apposed to other fics that show his calculative side, his more authority-driven side, even his love life and more controlling side of him. And damn it, I will never not find this cool!!! It shows the multifaceted nature of Kijo and how, in some instances, he could even be shown as a good father.

Like, damn it! I don't even know if this will last in this fic or not cus I dunno all the twists and turns QUITE yet, but damn it. Kijo's just lowkey wholesome here. Like, it was actually sweet reading Byakuya saying that he loved his father, even if it was just to get the damn man off his back so he can be cool and do Pokémon trainer shit! I am definitely interested in Kijo in the near future while slowly reading this fic, how the plot progresses, if I'm proven wrong on some things. Silly stuff like that! I really gotta psyche myself up into drawing him more so I can finally get a definitive design and draw him being both a menace to society, a charming gentleman, and of course goofier doodles cus I will never not shitpost! It's too fun heehehe!! Hope this little ramble made sense and I also will be continuing to read this fic of course!! Hell, even if I say I'm not as big into Pokémon anymore, I got too invested as a kid so I'll at least be somewhat of a sucker for it, even if I'm not playing the games or watching the anime anymore!

AAHHH!! I'm really honoured you're taking so much time to think about my silly fics!!

And I suppose that Kijo is kinda like Lusamine. This Kijo would really just be like animated Lusamine tho!

But glad you like this so much. Kijo and Byakuya do just really have a good relationship here... because I could. Byakuya deserves it!

Also happy I managed to convert you!!! The Byakuya &Chihiro friendship is the best, though there are not there yet here. They gotta develop some first! Same goes for Byakuya and the other person in his group!

And it's not like you need to be a huge fan of pokemon to enjoy it, as long as you know it. Like, it helps to know how moves, evelution and that stuff works because I... can't really explain it a lot without it being weird- the characters know this stuff already after all.

But really happy you enjoy reading it :D

[painting-warhammer]

Magus in the style of Queen (Deltarune)

Definitely a messier one, and a drop in quality. Really just the result of me wanting to have a fun figure I did on the side for a series I'm obsessed with. Commentary under cut.

For practice figures, literally what I will do is just go through the Games Workshop store, see a figure and then realize "holy crap... I could paint this like [_____] from a series I like!", or in other words, how every Warhammer fan over 40 paints their Tyranids as the xenomorphs. It ends up being the equivalent of a mini-painting "doodle" or "warmup" in between working on the "real" army. I don't really think about or worry over making a larger "thematically connected" army.

What's kinda sad is that, with Queen in particular, I actually did buy another Genestealer Cultist figure with the intent to paint them as a Deltarune character. I have a primed Abominant that I was planning to paint as Lancer and the King.

Even separately from that, I considered having Lancer on his bike as an Atalan Jackal. But you'd have to get a full set of five, and honestly I just want the one popping a wheelie.

Not to mention, goddammit, that now I actually have Green Stuff. I shouldn't have primed them! I could have connected the hammer to his stomach and made the spade... at the very least, I should have given them their coneheads. Damn.

Anyways, Queen. Not a lot to say, you can see paint going over the lines and somehow only the wineglass-turned-staff is the only good looking part. I didn't busy myself too much with details and I think this was unfinished; I don't remember what state I considered this to be in when I last touched it a year ago. I might give some shade to the gown and the head, and boots and cowl deserve an edge highlight or two. Apologies to trypophobes when it comes to whatever the fuck my primer did to the inside of her thigh...

It's also to kinda say fixing her up is not my top priority. I finally have enough figures in my actual army to play the game (this took LITERALLY three years) so that's where my focus is going to be. That's not to say no forever, but it is to say TTFN.

What I was really hyped about was the base. I took a copy of Fairly Oddparents: Breakin' Da Rules for Game Boy Advance, an absolutely awful Megaman clone that will not be missed. and then sanded it down until it was just small enough to be based. I drew with a marker the relative circumference I had to get it to. I suppose I could have freehanded the wires but I'm sick of my bases being dirt and debris, I wanted something nice. Only problem was the glue gun definitely made a big ol' gap between the base and the basing.

I think most of the fun of this one was daydreaming about how this fits in the 40K universe. Her standing on a microchip is probably impossible, that's only a factor of her being the size of one in real life, but who knows. I imagine that she's from a Genestealer Cult that had infected a Forgeworld, specifically. I think there are gameplay mechanics to venerate a bug version of the Omnissiah? Don't know for sure.

That's all for now! If you have started following me or read my other posts, thank you for all the notes across all of them. It's very humbling; I really don't think these are very good and I think any goodwill is based on who they are rather than any ability/talent rendering those people. The next few posts are going to be my actual army and the lore I wrote up for them, but that doesn't mean that's the end of the "[Warhammer Character] in the style of [Thing From Franchise]" posts. I have three that are started and unfinished, and I might do touchups or even outright re-dos of the previous ones I've posted. Thank you for your support. I don't do this for cash [what Warhammer fan can?] or clout so getting even a like has been very encouraging and flattering.

[phyriaxi]

Sketchbook Post! [ 1 ]

Welcome to my first sketchbook doodle dump!

I ended up having a bunch more drawings to share than I initially assumed, so I wanted to include some of my thoughts as well! This post will be quite a bit longer than usual :] thanks for stopping by!

CONTENTS:

NEW UNIVERSE (personal project work)

Sketches from life

Fanart (there's a lot of Arknights)

A couple of mini-comic sketches

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NEW UNIVERSE // character explorations and other doodles from my personal project!

I haven't really talked about it here, but for the past couple of years I've been working on an original story in my free time! The image above is a quick lineup of the main cast that I doodled while waiting at the station. Progress is slow, but the placeholder name is "NEW UNIVERSE", and I'm currently working on developing the stories for my characters and their origins!

(yes, i draw a lot of Arknights fanart ... but I do have some original work too LOL)

A couple characters you may have already seen are Lyda Khatra (the white-haired girl with bows in her hair) and Maria Serval (the lady who has horns and is usually smirking). They appear many times in my sketchbook, alongside many other characters that I'll try to introduce~

[ Clockwise from the top-left: Sara, Lyda Khatra, Kiron Schiavona, Red-Eye, Iris Serramount (2) ]

I recently found an old pack of red pencil leads prior to this page, so its purpose is mostly to test the material and less about the characters. But a bunch of them are on here, so I suppose it's a good chance to talk about them a bit :)

>> Sara, the top-left character drawn in light red pencil, is a young Verlin adult (note: Verlin are basically the in-universe demon people, and they're the counterpart to the angel-like Zaurites... it doesn't really give them powers or anything, I just wanted characters with horns and halos lol). She's pretty aloof and was originally a scout for the Blackbird Syndicate, one of the three power-holding entities currently in control of the (tentatively-named) city of Midria. However, she was quite terrible at her job, and they eventually realized that Sara enjoyed making/maintaining records of Midria's various fauna and cryptids. She is often followed around by a trio of little eyeball creatures :D

>> Lyda Khatra is the next character here, whom I've drawn a couple times before and posted here. In short, she's an agent for a security company known as WALTZ, which is in turn a subsidiary/cover of a group called The Styx. On missions, she partners with a boy named Sasha, but due to his unique condition (which I'm still expanding on, so I won't explain it here), she is often outcast by other WALTZ members and nicknamed "Miss Mortician". Truthfully, Lyda is just a child who ran from home, who believes that she won't ever have to acknowledge her fears if she can delude herself enough.

>> Following Lyda is Kiron Schiavona. He's a prodigy marksman who was discovered by one of the Administration's commanders, Elena Sparrow. He takes pride in his abilities, but for whatever reason, Elena has rarely assigned him to any proper missions.

>> Red-Eye is up next, in her usual twin-tailed hairstyle. She is from the Blackbird Syndicate's courier department, which is pretty much the city's only remaining postal/courier system. As a highly capable messenger, she and fellow courier Orion take on many high-priority delivery, retrieval, and escort missions. (additional note: I used to draw her with only one red eye, but somehow the heterochromia felt boring after a while, so both her eyes are usually red now. But either is fine)

>> Last on this page is Iris Serramount. Her story continues to be revised and rewritten, so there's not much I can say about her yet (except that she's 19, which is a fact that has stuck throughout most of her iterations).

Some other characters that I don't draw as often include Myra ("Malady"), Seremi and William Khatra (Lyda's older siblings who work for the Administration), and to a lesser extent, Maria Serval. Red-Eye's coworker/partner Orion doesn't get much time in the spotlight either :P

The following group of images includes a bunch of their sketches. Seremi is the one with the chin-length messy hair + a cape. She and Maria have a lot of history, and the two of them still work in the same division to this day. Myra/Malady is the one with the choppy hair, holding a chain-scythe in the third (?) image. Her original concept had her as a cowardly clairvoyant trying to take back her life for herself, but the clairvoyance isn't really relevant to the story anymore. Orion is in the last image.

(Yes, I did draw Arknights' Lappland with my Maria Serval in the first one. I'm a big fan of their 'shit-eating grin' energy lol)

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

Sketches from/inspired by life // quick studies of people and places, often at the park

I'm lucky to live near many wonderful parks and greenspaces, which gives me a lot of opportunities to people-watch and draw from life. Admittedly, I only started taking advantage of this recently, but I'm glad to have started late rather than never :]

Also, I have access to this really awesome roof, which I take inspiration from in a couple of these drawings. It's in a pretty industrial but under-maintained area, but luckily that means there are lots of rusty pipes, worn bricks, and random metal gadgets that really scratch my aesthetic itch!! I hope to incorporate more of that visual feeling into my artwork going forward.

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

FANART DOODLES // unsurprisingly, it's mostly Arknights

This is probably the content you're the most familiar with, albeit in a different style than usual. At this point, Lappland is my warm-up and passtime go-to, so she shows up a lot. I also drew Asuka from Evangelion the other day, and I really like how that sketch turned out!

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

MINI-COMICS // doodles of scenes that popped into my head

I'm terrible at writing, especially when it comes to stories, so these are probably mediocre at best. But I hope to publish NEW UNIVERSE as a comic/manga-styled story eventually, so you could say these are just my first steps, hehe :]

1: Red-Eye and Courier receive an unconventional request

2: Commander Sparrow introduces Kiron to his new squad members, the Raptors (featuring Maria Serval being very snarky)

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

That'll conclude this sketchbook post! If you've read this far: I know this was a REALLY long post, but I hope it was enjoyable! I'd love to hear your thoughts and feedback!

There are a couple more drawings that I'm quite fond of, but unfortunately I've now hit the image limit for a tumblr post. Maybe I'll save them for next time :] I hope to make more posts like this in the future when I have the time. Usually the stuff in my sketchbook stays in there forever and I never share it with anyone (nor do I often take the time to look back and think about it), so this was a lot of fun for me!

>> Oh, and lastly, thank you very much for nearly 500 followers!! <3

[agentoli]

Milo doodle plus mini fic/blurb (idek what to call it) thats been sitting in my drafts ab her ai implantation

Warning: derealization, general unsettling descriptions of having a computer program suddenly injected into your brain

>Writing below the cut

"Psi... wake up."

A symphony of colors and discordant melodies tore through their senses in ways that surely bore holes into their brain. Every nerve sent a rapid flow of data to a central unit that could not handle it. An overload.

Even as she fell to her knees, that which she could barely notice only by the sense of falling, it did not jolt her from the constant stream of information. It was bright, but dark and loud, but quiet and painful, yet euphoric. A distant scream drowned out by nothing and everything. Who was screaming?

The barage halted, slithering back inside like a snail in it's shell. Rather than returning to the florescent room, she could only greet a resounding nothing. Clearer than before, but many times more real.

She couldn't tell where she was. When she was.... Who she was. She wasn't even sure she was.

<Good morning.>

A thought appeared. No voice, no light, yet there was a message. Just, there. She did not think it, but it was.

<Oh, I forget you can't exactly comprehend this.>

Another idea sprouting in her mind. But one followed by a sense of something. Of a floor, of air, of eyes.

Standing, or rather existing, a few paces away (or was it miles?) was a figure. Indescribable, ever changing, eldrich. Impossibly close yet as far away as the stars.

It seemed to shift, gaining shape and form in a way human eyes could perceive in any meaningful capacity. A person. A cut out in an endless expanse of black that shone in every color at once until settling on a warm white.

<Personally I think this makes me look cheesy, but my data says this color is the most pleasing to your eyes, or rather your mind. Oh, another thing.>

The void flickered away to unveil a feild of golden wheat and blue skys. She sat on an old wooden bench beneath an older apple tree with scars from the lovers who etched their devotion in it's bark. The weight of her armor was gone, replaced by the softness of her favorite shirt and overalls she swore she grew out of years ago.

Home.

The sound of the bench creeking beside her beackoned her attention. The figure had joined her, still as vague as a smudge on frosted glass.

<Get used to it, kid.>

"Who... are you?" Her voice came out scratchy and raw, worn away by disuse or overuse was anyones guess.

"The ladder." Finally, a voice, fell from the cut out in space sat next to her. It was disjoined and uncanny. A parrot mimicking speech. "I am many things."

When it did not continue, she looked away. Back to the warm embrace of cropfields and the pinkish apple siting on a nearby branch. She gently pryed it away, blinking as the apple remained both on the tree and in her hand. "Where are we?"

"We are here." The voice crackled.

"Where is here?" She turned back to the fugure, who seemed to guesture out at the world. Sensing a language barrier, she retried. "Am I at home?"

"No."

"On the Mother of Invention?"

"I suppose."

"In the surgery room on the table?"

"In a sense."

There was a long pause. She mulled over the words and rolled it around in her brain.

"In her brain." A parrot.

"In my brain?"

"Yes."

"And you are here too." More of a statement then a question, but answered with affirmation nonetheless. "Then I guess you know me?"

"I know everything you are."

"Do you know my name?"

A pause, a flicker, a response. "Milo. You have a last name, but you seem to despise it."

"I despise many things."

"Untrue. You hate very little."

"What about you?"

"I can not hate in the way you can. But I can recognize similar intentions."

"I meant, what is your name?"

"I do not have a name."

"Would you like me to give you one?"

There is a silence, the figure flickering again. "Yes."

She's named things before: barn cats, goats, rabbits, a horse or two. Never a person. Or rather an idea of a person. Milo hummed, inspecting the tough fruit she'd been idly rolling in her hand like a ball. Names usually held a meaning: a trait, a habit, a purpose. But coming up with a moniker for something that can only be described as something was difficult. "What do you want to be?"

"What an odd question." The figure shifted, thinking. No, analyzing the question. A response. "An ally."

"Echo." A word that spilled from her mouth like clockwork. Not as a command, but an answer. "You are Echo."

"I guess that works." With the name, the fugure became clearer. More real.

Without thought, Milo moved her arm towards it. Gently proffering the red fruit. "If these are as good as the real deal, they taste delicious."

"Taste." Echo parroted, or was it echoed? An idea of a hand wrapped around the apple, the concept of fingers brushing across the skin. The figure looked, yes looked, at the fruit. With eyes that could see and fingers that could feel. Gently bringing the object to it's face. And a tongue that could taste.

An odd expression crossed Milo, who had in the moment, wxperiensed every sense Echo had. Which in a weird way made sense now that echo looked like her. A soft smile fell upon her face. "Should I be flattered or scared?"

"Neither. Or perhaps both." Echo's eyes drifted up to Milo's. Any features that had seemed slightly off flickered into place. The white glow faded until all that remained was a carbon copy of her. "Does this make you uncomfortable?"

"Not exactly? It's just strange to see myself like this."

"Apologies, I simply took the form of what I knew the most about until I can fully develop." Even as it spoke, its features changed. Not in a horrifying face-melty way, but almost a fade in or maybe a glitch type way?

Echo was a human, who looked a little bit like her, but mostly like a stranger. It had her eyes, though they shined in an amber color, much like the wheat feilds. It had dark curls that reached the shoulder, and square-ish freckles dusting it's face. It wore ripped baggy jeans and an oversized shirt with the cover of Madonna's Like a Virgin album on it. A vague collection of memories.

"It feels weird to continue thing of you as an 'it'."

"Then don't. I don't mind whichever pronouns you use. I don't exactly have a biological sex."

"How about they?"

"Sounds good." They blinked, clearing their throat. "My name is Echo, I have no gender, I am artificial, and I am your ally."

"Hello Echo. I am Milo, I'm a girl, I am human, and I am your friend."

"Friend?"

Milo shrugged. "It would feel weird calling a brainmate an ally."

Echo's face twisted in a strange way, "Brainmate? That sounds... gross."

"Roommate?"

"Nah, just friend."

"So... why are we here?"

Echo thought. Not like she would, but in the way a computer screen would buffer slightly and that... spinning circle(?) Would appear.

Ankther strange expression appeared on echo's face. This time, though, she could understand it as that weird mix of pity and discomfort you get whenever you had to break the bad news to someone.

"I am here to... change you? My directory tells me I need to..." They fell silent, eyes flickering. Eyebrows knitted together as they turned to face Milo.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm unsure of what to say, but your memories are telling me it may be 'I'm sorry'." Echo gently took her hand, warmth spreading from their touch like blooming flowers at first. Soon, though, the gentle feeling crumbled away to reveal thorns digging deep into her flesh. Roots burrowing into her skin and muscles and bloodvessels to wrap around her bones.

She reflexively screwed her eyes shut, trying to pull away from the sensation of knives skinning her alive. She opens her mouth to scream, but it's distant like the one heard when everything was to much. It was her scream.

[foxgirlmoth]

💎

What's my most prized possession?

Kind of a hard one, cause I have a few things I adore. Of course I love my computer that I built, Lyo. Thats more because its probably my most used thing

I love my guitar; Kiyama's been a good for me and I bought it to learn on. I was told she's got some funky things about her, but she feels like my guitar yknow?? Feels the best playing on her and no one else compares.

I have a remembering jar (and a bunny plushie) from my first girlfriend that I honestly cherish. I dunno if she still follows me on here tbh but! She's wonderful and I'm glad she was a part of my life. Things ofc didn't work out, but I became a much better person throughout that relationship (and after!) Because of her and because of me putting in more effort. She's the only ex that broke up with me and was like. Understanding and didn't just throw my emotions out the door. Honestly sometimes I still think about messaging her, but its been SO long and the last time I actually got close to messaging her I saw all my old messages and... Oof. Bad. She was my best friend at the time, but I wasn't in the best spot I suppose. Thinking about her brings back mostly good memories. She's a great artist and I have some doodles of hers still which is nice (long entry yusgfhshdhs). I just hope she's doing well tbh.

I also have a giant amethyst chunk. I've had it since I was a kid and idr where I got it. Its always been in my room and I just love it.

I have a mini boom box from a childhood friend thats been in my room for... Almost 2 decades now I think. Small, black, but probably still works. Kinda game sphere shaped. I remember playing chess with this kid and idk. I was really young but I remember him moving out of town and the family told me to keep it as a gift.

The real answer though is my fox pillow. I bought it probably a little over a year ago. I had half originally bought it to give to a cute girl I was (and still am) crushing on, saying I should send it in the mail or buy a second one. If she wants it now though we have to share. I remember just learning she loved foxes a lot and we started talking apparently because I wanted her to play Metroid Dread. Kinda started out as a 'oh this girl is so fun. She's just a treat to talk to' to 'oh she's just so cute. She makes me laugh and I just wanna talk all the time' to me flying out and seeing her this past month. Idk I cuddle this thing every night and I get sad if it ends up on the floor in the middle of the night. This poor thing has probably had me cry into it countless times already too. What began as a little crush turned into someone who understands me and loves me and who has become a best friend, and ough I love her lots too. She's always a joy and I feel like I can really loosen the chains on this ol' heart of mine when I'm around her. I've never taken things so slow, but it feels right! I'm really really happy where I'm at right now and I finally feel like I'm going a lot of places in life. College last semester was the best its ever been for me, and I feel like I'm being loved for all of me. I think it gives me hope tbh. I know I'm physically alone right now, but hey, I won't always be!

[minttangerines]

Gentle obsidian eyes shift back and forth between you and Jimin as he scolds you. 

“What the actual fuck are you doing?”

“What am I do? What are you doing? That is a whole person you have chain up in here!”

“No... not really. Humans can’t do the things he can do!”

“Like what--”

The soft humming returns with a bit of a pitch. You both look down to see the man of the hour inspecting the hand that was wrapped around your throat not too long ago.

On guard, Jimin steps in front of you not knowing what’s about to happen. Is he trying to hypnotize them? Lure them into the water to drown them? Calling for back up?

“YN, stay beh--”

“Ssshhh, listen.”

The slight head tilt that accompanies the humming is causing you to become more and more endeared with him.

“Whoop! There it is! Whoop! There it is!” 

“Tag Team back again, check it, direct it---”

“Seriously?”

“Shut up! He hears that song. How would he hear it?”

“Only person that would listen to THAT song is...”

“JUNGKOOK,” you both yell in unison. 

You both scramble to clean all evidence of what transpired. You go for the desk, tucking away Jimin’s doodles and earbuds. Jimin goes for the mop and makes a mockery of himself by tripping repeatedly. You’re pretty sure you hear the effervescent creature quietly laugh at him. 

“Oh shut you, you oversized slug!” He leans against the mop to stand up.

The creature holds his head in the tilted position trying to figure out what he was just called. He doesn’t know but know whatever it is was insulting. He’ll deal with him later.

Shortly, the mop topped intern two steps into the room with his mini speaker in hand.

“JIMIN-SSI!” He walks over to him and continues to dance. You stop sorting to watch him. The man knows how to command and demand an audience. Namjoon likes to say how if anyone were to take you away from him, it would be the maknae. A stream of water is shot into your eye by the creature who frowns at your drooling before slinking into the water. Did he just...?

“Koo-Koo Bird! What are you doing here? At this hour?” He tries to catch the rhythm of the song and turn his attention to the door.

“Just finished working out. Forgot my bag up here. YN, Joon is looking for you. He just finished his workout and showering now.”

“Okay. Thanks Kookie!” You try to wipe the water off your face.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Are you crying noona? You’re not supposed to be in here.”

Jimin gestures for you to go with the alibi Jungkook has mistakenly provide you with. 

You cover your face with both hands and take a deep breath. This is too much. If anyone finds out you were in here, you were sure Namjoon would never speak to you again.

“Oh, Noona! What’s wrong?” Without care, the maknae sits on the steps leading up to the pool. He sets the speaker that he’s never without down and reaches out to you.

“I think she needs some air Koo. Can you walk her out?”

Breaking the water is the slicked back hair of creature, eyes narrowed and set on you. 

“Yeah, let’s go Noona.” He takes your arm and leads you out, stupid speaker sticking out of his tracksuit.

When you’re both in the hallway, the creature rises out of the water to imitate the swishy sound of the tracksuit the unintended guest of the evening was wearing. Jimin knows jealousy when he sees it and can’t help but to giggle. 

I woke up to Yoongi-induced chaos again 😵‍💫

What is this for, Luce?? He’s out here looking like an elemental prince! Are these ethereal photos for D3?? Can’t be his folio, none of the others dropped photos before BigHit did!

How am I supposed to focus on work at a time like this????

(Not me zooming in, looking for a tiny 7)

[heliphantie]

Happy 1st anniversary of Encanto!

Sample of several Brunos drawn during October. Tag yourself, as they say.

Under ‘read more’ – small selection of art through the year + some ramblings:

Back in the middle of 2021, I’ve got interested by couple of things about it: implication that Disney – or animation in general - does something inspired by Gabriel García Márquez, and also being Latino-inspired Disney musical movie, which I wanted to see since listening to “Snuff Out The Light” from what became “Emperor’s New Groove”. Wasn’t expecting a lot, neither, to be honest, got in result, except some surprising consequences. I admire a lot of work, classic and more contemporary, by Disney animation and its creatives, even if nothing in last decade or so impressed me on the level Golden Age, Renaissance, or even early 00s production did.

To be fair, in the end I only stay intrigued by its concept and production art more than by actual movie, and it’s realistically more than I would expect. That, and fact Disney happened to create character catering specifically to me in a lot of aspects, which is unfathomable (but it’s a talk for other time).

I would like to collect all my thoughts about the movie to make thorough writing on it, but it calls for motivation and time dedicated to it. In one or another form, I still consider to do it sometime, not necessarily in consecutive form…

What is significant to me, it has triggered my long-tarred decision to resume drawing, which I had on hold for literal years. For now, beside of continued efforts in building skills, I feel almost obligated to put on paper (or digital canvas) all ideas thinking about the movie sparked (and I’m not even over a quarter of it currently).

I’d like to do one another big thing for its first anniversary before the end of year, but being on low energy and not wanting to rush through it, I hope I finish it to Christmas. Anyway, there is some of my work of that year which, out of all artistic attempts, I find satisfactory, considering my current level.

Sort of digest of the (not complete, given I started in April) year of art, dedicated mostly to one subject.

Julieta Gets All Kisses Returned (April 2022)

One of very first, early pictures. In fact, I drew it in pencil on very first day, April 1, along with couple of other small doodles. Idea for it was also quite old, from February, and it was supposed to be birthday-related, before official birthdays were revealed, and it turned I have to wait for half of year😊 Or draw it regardless, because it still worked out of that context and was small and simple enough for first steps. With all its simplicity, it *could* have been better, but I’m even fond of its roughness. There are some drawings I realize liking only for having low expectations for it, but as time goes, they look crappy to me, but not this one. (May be fun to re-make it too next year, to look at progress/improvement, assuming I’ll reach any.)

Teenage Bruno (April 2022)

This one I did in pencil on the *second* day. Piece of wisdom to myself: comics, even short ones, are trickier than regular drawing. It’s consisted of small frames, but you have to figure out composition and make character designs in each panel consistent. It takes twice time to make everything right and without a hurry.

Whole thing barely fits into any context of canon, I just imagined young Bruno interacting with children similar to Mirabel, and this conversation sprang to mind. I had to come with context to support it (Bruno had his gift kept in relative secret til late adolescence), but in general, main connection with my personal headcanon is just that he always was more resilient and lighthearted than given credit for.

On this note, I’ve had intention of exploring my headcanon about characters and Bruno in particular via mini-comics (lot of it had comic scenarios in its roots), and there’s bunch of scripts for it lying not processed into work yet, and as I said, I’m going to finish them because I don’t want for this spurt of inspiration to go to waste, even if it takes time.

On the comic itself, I also like how it turned, given all imperfections. Having to figure look of younger Bruno was fun, and it had some amusing by-products as well I’ll show other time😊 People online seem liking it, too, maybe because it has some narrative. And, frankly, I ought to make narrative things more often.

WDTAB Reenacted (April-May 2022)

Another fun early idea, WDTAB musical number with only Mirabel and Bruno. Two challenges: full-body figures in dynamic poses and drawing with references (without tracing, purely from eye), putting some spin on it. Curious realization: no matter how I try to keep body proportions accurate, all people I draw look like hobbits… except Bruno who does look like hobbit by design already.

My favorite is middle-bottom fragment, dynamic pose construed from scratch.

Bruno & Toni (July-August 2022, fragment of mini-comic)

It’s just this, a fragment of another (rare) mini-comic, but somehow in the end of it, I unexpectedly liked this one panel enough to single it out. I still struggle conveying emotions and mood of characters, but this one turned fortunately in that regard. It’s “sparking joy”, to use meme-speak.

Dolores (August 2022)

I wasn’t exactly determined to draw something to every official character birthday, only when I had idea in mind and it happened to align with date, but since May I was going (almost) steady providing something to each, small or bigger, like that one. It was first full-page picture with background and multiple elements, I wasn’t sure I’d finish it on time, but I managed to, and for most of it, I like the result. It’s not always that vision of thing is clear from beginning and gets exact realization, it’s interesting to see what I get in the end. Layers of background and decorative elements are all over place, it’s accidentally looking like sort of collage, but popping up quite vividly. It got some attention on Twitter, and frankly, I’m pleasantly surprised with it, the work paid off.

Also, how I pointed while presenting it for first time, I was inspired by production art and lines from script depicting Dolores as “weird cousin”, and to lesser extent by fan song “Turn It Down”. When someone mentioned she looks Tim Burton-esque, I was glad I nailed that association.

For further note, Dolores and Pepa are two characters with very attractive color design, I like every opportunity of drawing them.

Bunch of small things drawn during September-October – see samples in header image of post and under ‘encanto fanart’ tag in the blog by yourself, they’re all recent.

Despite smaller goals, I feel like it’s biggest improvement of the year: slowly getting expressions, shadow and lighting rendering, figuring out consistent personal style for characters, etc. I may get slowed down for now (and it affects my work), but I realize there’s long way ahead, and it’s encouraging to see I already have progressed a bit. Fanart is legit good starting point for working toward artistic aspirations, both fun and productive.

So, this post turned into one about personal achievements rather than one about the movie, but in the end, it’s all thanks to inspiration it gave me, so my felicitations to it!

[heymacy]

*flies across the country to give you a hug and a prompt* 💛 how about 11 and 96??

julissa 😭 my love. my light. my beloved, beautiful sweetface. i’ll meet you at the airport so i can hug for you all eternity 😭 😭 😭 💛 

11 [Witch/Magic/Psychic AU] and 96 ["Take That" Kiss or "Shut Up" Kiss]

The Moonbridge Institute for Young Witches has just gone co-ed for the first time since it opened its doors 1,500 years ago. Ian Gallagher is a young Irish warlock (accents, ooooo) that enrolls in the Institute the second he turns 18, excited to get out of Ireland and spend some time in the United States. Once he lands in Massachusetts, he settles into his dorm, where he’s saddled with a moody, brooding Ukranian warlock (accents, ooooo part 2) that goes by “Mick” - or at least he would, if he let anybody talk to him. Ian is determined to break down Mick’s walls, conjuring up all sorts of oddities he thinks Mick might like. A magical drawing pad that never runs out of paper after he caught Mick doodling in the courtyard after their Necromancy 101 class. A crystal pendulum he leaves on his desk after finding out that Mick was top of his class in Divination. An ancient book of spells he’d transported from the restricted section of the library, hidden in the stack of leather-bound books Mick keeps on his desk. But Ian’s attempts to extend an olive branch are rebuked at every turn, until one day, Mick confronts him.

mini ficlet below the cut 💫

“Hey, fucker” a voice says, and the soft Ukranian accent, dulled by years in the states, rings like a familiar tune in Ian’s ears.

Ian looks over at the bed on the other side of the room. Mick is sitting propped up against the pillows, reading the book Ian had conjured up and hidden in the stack on Mick’s desk.

“Uh, hey,” Ian responds, dropping his bookbag on the floor beside the door, kicking off his shoes and heading over to his bed.

Before he gets all the way there, Mick shuts the book and drops it on the mattress, standing up from the bed and charging over towards Ian.

He grabs Ian by his sweater, shoving him up against the paneled wall. Ian lands against it with a small oof! but Mick keeps his hands fisted in the fabric, his own t-shirt ratty and torn, only the words Fleetwood Mac scrawled across the front. Ian catches his breath and stares at Mick, the other man staring back just as intently. It’s a long moment before either of them speaks, just the creak of the old wooden floors and Ian’s gasping breaths filling the growing silence.

“What the fuck is your deal?” Mick asks, scowling, and Ian attempts to shrug.

“What are you talking about?” he responds, and Mick keeps his grip on Ian’s sweater, pulling him forward, then shoving him back against the wall once more. Ian lands with another oof! and Mickey keeps scowling.

“The shit you keep leaving around,” he says, demanding an answer, and Ian knows the jig is up. Still, he can’t give in. There’s something about the way Mick is looking at him, eyes dark and narrow, that sends a jolt through Ian’s body. A very human, very visceral jolt, vibrating from the base of his neck all the way down his spine.

“What shit?”

“The shit. The shit you keep conjuring up and leaving around the room.”

“Like what?”

Mick grumbles and releases his grip on Ian’s shirt. He doesn’t step back, keeping Ian pinned against the wall with only his eyes and voice.

“The notepad. Then the pendulum. Now this?”

Mick turns around and walks over to his bed, picking up the antique book that’s still a bit dusty, the leather binding well-worn and creased at the spine.

“This,” he said, turning back around and storming over to Ian, shoving the book in his face. “This isn’t even supposed to exist.”

Ian smirks.

“But it does.”

Mick stares him down, trying to get a read on Ian’s face, and Ian tries his best to maintain his innocence.

“Well knock it off,” Mick demands, and Ian chuckles, completely enamored by the way Mick has chosen to tell him off. He could easily use his fists - he was good in a fight, Ian had seen it when he’d taken down Nicholas Gardner in the courtyard the first day of class - but he was choosing to tell him to knock it off. Of all things. So American, so uncharacteristically passive.

“And what if I don’t wanna knock it off?” Ian asks, and Mick raises his eyebrows sky high.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Ian smirks again, unable to hide his amusement at Mick’s unusually vulnerable persona. He seems confused, flustered even, like he doesn’t know what to do with the idea of someone giving him gifts for no particular reason.

Well, Ian had a reason. And that reason happened to be that he was maybe, kinda, sorta, definitely, insanely attracted to his roommate, and had been since Orientation day. If he could break down the stone walls Mick had built up, maybe he could figure out what really made him tick.

"I just thought you’d like ‘em,” he says, and Mick’s confused expression stays put.

“Like them?”

“The gifts.”

Mick raises his eyebrows again.

“Why the fuck are you giving me gifts in the first place?”

Ian shrugs. “Like I said. I thought you’d like ‘em.”

“No other reason?” Mick asks, and there’s a shift in his energy, the way his eyebrows lower along with his eyelids, chin raising a bit, his look transforming from irritated to inquisitive.

Ian shrugs again.

“Don’t know,” he says. “Maybe.”

Mick blows out an irritated breath, trying to regain the persona he knows so well.

“Well stop it,” he says.

Something surges through Ian - a burst of confidence, or maybe stupidity combined with a complete lack of self-preservation. Either way, it forces out his next words before he even knows what he’s doing.

“And what if I don’t?”

Mick’s eyebrows shoot up again.

“What did you just say?”

“I said and what if I don’t? What if I don’t want to stop giving you gifts?” He tilts his head to the side, eyeing Mick up and down. “What if I want to give you more than just gifts?”

Mick swallows hard, his jaw twitching. Ian’s struck a nerve, he knows it.

There were two possibilities for how this could play out. Either Mick would beat the shit out of him, or the two of them were about to rip off their clothes in a frenzied, frantic race to devour each other.

Mick contemplates it for a moment, then charges forward, grabbing Ian’s sweater in his fists like he had before. Only this time, it’s not in anger.

“Shut the fuck up,” he says, and rolls up on his toes, pressing his lips against Ian’s, and Ian’s entire body lights up.

It feels like the first time he ever used magic - unexpected, unplanned, out of the blue, filling him with a light and a warmth like he’d never felt before.

But somehow, this was even better. ✨

[x-pair-o-dice-x]

time to talk about various aus i’ve barely mentioned over here + doodles

gonna be a long one,, since it’s both summaries, art, and a mini fic.

each one is copy pasted from discord so apologies if it read weird or something fodndodndkw

freedom for a phoenix au

okay so like,,, tommy is made in lab? and was experimented on. the scientists find out that he has healing properties,, could heal faster than normal, and could heal others. as the years go by, they keep experimenting, trying to test out the limits. one day, after sampling his blood,, someone like, accidentally spills it on some dead lab rat or something, and it gets revived. tommy’s blood can, at the very least, revive dead animals. and.. maybe even humans.

before they can do too much with this information, however, tommy escapes.

more years pass by, and the lab has yet to find him. over those years, they created another creature, one much, much bigger than tommy, than anyone in the lab.

ranboo.

the head scientist decides to task him to try to find and recover their runaway experiment, or else.

tear down these walls au

(don’t have bought room for doodles plus i’ve shown you all the good ones already so take this mini fic instead(mostly since the mini fic is the summary i write for it))

okay so,, ranboo is a thief for hire,, and one day he gets a call from some business guy named schlatt, who wants him to steal back some stuff that was stolen from him — specifically, a small, intricate, probably expensive bird cage, as well as whatever is inside it. the guy was really vague as to what he wanted beyond that, but nonetheless,, he accepted the job. like, he Was paying an almost stupid amount of money for this heist, he would be an idiot not to accept this.

so he breaks into the place, and starts searching the place. he nags a lot of stuff not on the list, because why not,, but by the time he’s almost done, he hasn’t really found it yet. there’s only one room left at this point — the office, his blueprints tell him. there’s bound to be important stuff in there, if not the cage.

as he enters the room, the first thing he does is scan the room for the cage. there’s a desk, papers, a bottle with something inside, a globe, for some reason, why are there always globes in offices-?

no cage. bummer. guy probably sold it off, jerk. fair, though, it did looks like a pretty expensive cage. if he’s lucky, he’ll find a receipt, or something that told him who has it now. then he’d give it to schlatt — at this point, it’s not really his problem anymore, that guy can deal with it.

well, if there’s no cage, he might as well loot this place, too. so he takes another look around, pockets some jewelry on the side of the room, and finds himself at the desk. papers, those could be important, or they could be boring. or they could be boring /and/ important, those are the worst. his attention turns to the other stuff on the desk — he doesn’t really fancy read right at this second — and his eyes glance over the bottle- before freezing, and zooming back over to it.

that’s a person in a bottle.

that’s… an Actual Person.

what.

he takes a closer look. it’s.. it resembles a person, alright, if a person had long droopy ears, horns, and a tail. and… was also, really, really small.

they were staring back at him, too, with wide eyes. they…..

they looked terrified.

suddenly, ranboo was filled with dread. what was a tiny person doing in a bottle?

what was the guy doing to it?

what was he going to do with it?

well, ranboo supposes it doesn’t matter now. because that guy wasn’t going to get a chance to hurt them, not anymore. he’s taking them with him.

and he does.

is this technically kidnapping? idk probably, but it’s just another crime to add to the list, he supposes.

feathers and friends au

okay so basically the summary is that uhh,, when ranboo was a kid, maybe ten or eleven years old, he had friend! he’s long since forgotten their name, to his dismay, and can only barely recall blond hair and an outgoing personality. the only memento he has of them was a necklace they had given him, with yellow, almost golden feathers on the end.

they were only able to meet up in the woods his friend called home a couple times, before ranboo was taken away by the guild that controls the town to become a member of it.

years pass, and he makes a new friend, tubbo, and they both become hunters for the guild. their job? hunt down and kill various beasts that threaten the safety of their town.

recently, though, ranboo has been failing in his outings more and more, and the heads of the guild have had enough.

they give him one last shot, one last chance. find and kill a beast that’s been tormenting the farmers near the edge of the forest. he doesn’t have much of a description, only feathers, large ones, just about bigger than his hand.

and so he heads out into the forest, determined to finally prove himself.

little does he know, he’s about to have a reunion with an old friend,,,,

apocalyptic sizes au

okay never really made a proper summary for this one so you’ve already seen most of what i got for it already so just take doodles. fun fact: tubbo can sizeshift!

lab-raccooninnit au

same as the zombie one, you’ve seen the better summary of it,, so take these snippets of a wip fic for it!

when angels weep au

i do have a summary for this one, but it’s in a google doc and i’m too lazy to go open it to copy-paste it so take this-

[wafflesandkruge]

One Early Morning in Os Alta

Nikolai accidentally drinks one of David's experiments and becomes obsessed with solving the mystery that is Zoya Nazyalensky. The Triumvirate is his most unwilling audience as he attempts to piece together where she goes at night with nothing but his caffeine-fueled brain and a chalkboard.

Written for the @grishaversebigbang mini bang! Thank you so much to the amazing @kolarpem (x) and @denndrawings​ (x) who created beautiful art for this fic 🥺 ❤️  

ao3

In their three short years of marriage, Genya and David had developed a morning routine. David, eager to get to the labs early so he could have the room to himself, would wake at the crack of dawn like clockwork and share a few sleepy kisses with her before getting on his way. After a few more hours of much-needed beauty sleep, Genya would commandeer some breakfast and find him tinkering away at whatever project Nikolai had put him to. It was a comfortable rhythm, a familiar constant in their otherwise hectic lives.

But today, Genya was just drifting off to sleep again after being woken by her husband when the door to their bedroom slammed open to reveal a very disheveled David. His glasses were slightly more askew than usual and his kefta rumpled. Genya let out a small yawn.

“David? What’s wrong?”

“There has been a development.” He didn’t elaborate further as he strode over to their wardrobe and pulled out her kefta. She tugged it over her head without question and followed him sleepily out of the room. They’d been together long enough that she’d learned not to try to get him to elaborate. He’d either clam up for hours trying to find the right words or talk in circles trying to fully explain a very easily explainable situation. Only the Saints knew what it was this time. She just hoped it was something easily resolvable so she could go back to sleep. Perhaps a puppy running loose in the labs, or an Inferni who’d burned off their eyebrows and wanted her to Tailor them back. Simple things.

But instead of the labs, David pulled her into Nikolai’s bedroom and Genya knew it was going to be a long day. Tamar and Tolya were already seated on a sofa, both with their arms crossed and similar scowls on their faces. Zoya was absent. And Nikolai was animatedly scribbling on a large blackboard that had been wheeled to the front of the room, “ZOYA NAZYALENSKY” scrawled at the top in large letters and circled three times for emphasis. The rest of the board was covered in near incomprehensible writing and doodles.

Genya frowned as David pulled her down into the seat next to him. “Did you steal that from the Little Palace, Nikolai? How will the children learn?”

Her king didn’t answer. He seemed busy working on a doodle of what looked like a five legged tiger on a corner of the board. David patted her hand absentmindedly as he opened his notebook and started scribbling as well.

“Is anyone going to explain this to me?” Genya asked mildly as Tolya slid a cup of tea towards her. She supposed the Triumvirate had seen worse, and their king acting like a man possessed didn’t rank particularly high on their list, but she still didn’t appreciate being woken up early for this. If anything, the twins should have just knocked him out and then everyone could get their well deserved rest.

Tamar crossed her arms. Her short hair stuck up in every direction as if she’d just rolled out of bed. “Well, your genius husband over there,” she starts, her tone not quite complimentary, “was working on one of his little experiments again.”

Genya nodded distractedly as she removed a small mirror from the inside of her sleeve. David took it from her obediently and held it up as she began Tailoring away the dark circles under her eyes. It wasn’t a substitute for her lost sleep, but it’d have to do for now.

“Coffee with a mild strain of parem in it for an extra stimulant,” David explained as she moved on to bringing more color into her cheeks. “Since you’re always complaining about the Little Palace’s coffee leaving you groggier than before.”

Genya’s hands stilled as she offered David a small smile. Even after knowing him for this long, his kindness never failed to surprise her. “That’s lovely, dear. But how does that relate to Nikolai acting like...this?”

Both of them jumped when Nikolai let out a rather concerning cackle. He had moved on from the deformed tiger to a caricature of someone who looked alarmingly like General Pensky. Genya scanned the board, barely able to decipher his scribbling. Secret lover...treason...illicit rendezvous? She furrowed her brows.

Tolya glowered at them from his spot next to his sister. “Nikolai drank David’s experiment. And now he refuses to administer the antidote because he wants to observe his behavior for the sake of science.”

“That’s not strictly true,” David said as he handed the mirror back to Genya and picked up his pencil again. “I don’t have an antidote ready. Instead of taking the time and labor to manufacture one, we might as well just wait for it to wear off naturally.”

Tolya opened his mouth again to argue, but then a piece of chalk flew by, barely missing Genya’s nose. Nikolai slammed his hands on the table and her tea splashed out of its cup. 

All four of their heads turned towards their king. His shirt was buttoned incorrectly, his hair wild, and a distinctly unhinged look in his eyes. His jacket was tied around his shoulders like a cape. It had to be the worst Genya has ever seen him, though there had been that time when Kirigin had convinced him to do a few shots of that whiskey from the Wandering Isles and he’d been convinced he was a saint—

“Friends!” His voice was entirely too loud for the intimate setting. “I have gathered you here today to solve one of our most pressing problems.”

“Our empty coffers?” Genya asked with a yawn.

“Impending war on three fronts?” offered Tolya.

“My brother’s incurable love for five hour poetry recitations?” 

David continued silently taking notes in his book.

“No,” Nikolai declared with an empathetic shake of his head, “we’re here to discuss the mystery of...Zoya Nazyalensky.”

He stepped to the side and for the first time, Genya was able to see the entirety of the blackboard he’d been writing on. Not a single inch of it had been spared from his rather enthusiastic scrawl and doodles like he was preparing to give them the world’s most fascinating lecture on the enigma that was Zoya. Genya felt a headache incoming.

“Perhaps we could do this at a more reasonable hour,” she began, but Nikolai smacked his hand against the blackboard which sent up a giant cloud of chalk dust.

“Nonsense! There’s no time like the present, and Zoya is away so it’s the perfect time to speculate upon her true intentions.” He waved his arm towards a bullet point at the top of the board, but in his eagerness, nearly knocked the entire board over. Genya let out another yawn and sank back into the couch. Maybe he wouldn’t notice if she dozed off.

“Where does she go at night?” Nikolai demanded as he began pacing furiously. The papers pinned to the board fluttered in his wake. “About once a week or so, the palace guards tell me she’s seen walking on the grounds late at night, alone. She’s almost certainly meeting with someone. But who? And why?”

“Are you sure you don’t have an antidote?” she whispered to David.

“Positive.” He scratched his ear, a sure sign he was lying. Genya sighed. She supposed she’d have him make it up to her later. She knew better than to talk him out of one of science moods. 

“A lover!” Nikolai continued. “She has a secret lover!”

Genya knew for a fact Zoya had no one in her heart other than their king as much as she liked pretending she hated him and his entire existence. In her own opinion, it probably had something to do with the very expensive gifts Nikolai routinely offered because Zoya was nothing if not a creature of luxury. Still, she took a sip of her tea and raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Do go on.”

“At first I thought it was General Pensky, but he’s been stationed at the border for over a month and the night walks haven’t stopped. So that leaves no other option than…” Nikolai’s eyes narrowed. He executed a sloppy about-face that any army commander would have had him running laps for and pointed an accusing finger at Tolya. “You’re Zoya’s secret lover!”

Tolya frowned and crossed his arms. “I would rather go back to Novyi Zem and become a jurda farmer. Less chance of sudden death.”

Nikolai grabbed at his hair. “But if you’re not seeing Zoya...and Tamar isn’t– you’re not right?”

“I’m married, Nikolai.”

“Right, right, right,” he muttered. He turned back to look at his board. “Then there’s only one other answer.”

“We all go back to bed?” Genya suggested.

Nikolai turned to her, an oddly intense look in his eyes. “How could you suggest we all retire when Zoya is plotting against the throne?”

Genya blinked. “How exactly did you get there?”

“It all makes sense!” Nikolai babbled excitedly. He waved his arms in excitement. “The late night walks. The secrecy. Why she’s always so mean to me—”

“She’s mean to everyone,” Tamar interjected.

“She’s working with the Fjerdans! Or the Shu! Of course, I should have seen it from the start…”

Genya tuned him out again as he went back to drawing on the board while muttering to himself about how the Fjerdan’s diabolical plan to have Zoya seduce him was working too well. She put her head on David’s shoulder and focused on the page of notes he was working on. Except instead of notes, it was a sketch of a woman’s face. Her face. As she watched, his pencil scratched out the curve of her lips, one corner lifted in a half smile. “What are you doing, dear?”

“Studying something beautiful,” he answered without a moment of hesitation. 

Genya’s lips curled into a smile as she let her eyes shut. “You’re sweet today. Maybe we should let Nikolai poison himself more often.”

“There’s a seventy percent chance his heart would give out if we attempted this more than once a week.”

“Regicide,” Genya said with a sigh, “How romantic.”

[shurisneakers]

shut in [8]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: cursing, implied abuse, death, implied ptsd, injuries, guns, anxiety

Word count: 4.2k

A/N: oh my god oh my god sam stans how are we feeling djkghdfjkhgdf. no thoughts only sam wilson in ep1 of tfatws <333

i also appreciate feedback so if you would like to, please consider dropping me an ask or comment ly guys!! 

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

“Hey, I’m just going to step out for today.” You looked up from the doodle you were making on the corner of the paper. “Catch you later? Just find me if you need anything.”

“You okay?” You automatically sat up straighter, blanket creasing under you. Something was amiss in his body language.

“Yeah, just-” He seemed like he was struggling for words. “-Brooklyn.”

You didn’t get what he was making a reference to until it suddenly dawned on you.

It was the codeword he had suggested right at the beginning of your time in the house. If he was in danger you were sure he’d tell you, at least an inkling of information.

But no, this was for some time alone, further confirmed by the distant look in his eyes.

“Oh.” You blinked. “Take all the time you need. I’ll be here if you need.”

He gave you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, turning around and leaving the room.

You were left staring after him, the drawing you were making of the house layout discarded on the bed. You were working on strategies, vantage points- anything that could help in case something went wrong.

Was it because of the dumb ‘moment’ you had shared two days ago? It didn’t seem like it because he hadn’t brought it up at all and God knows you would never. Was it something else that had happened, something you did?

Stop overthinking. He probably just needs a day to himself.

You had spent almost a month in each other’s company and he had never once complained. He had a tendency to be petty about minor inconveniences, like you trying to watch a movie when his favourite segment on the local news channel was going on. He liked the cooking show they hosted.

He had never made it a point to specifically tell you that he needed some time to himself, much less use the word.  

“Get yourself together,” you whispered to yourself, shaking off the nagging feeling you had.

If he had an issue, he would have voiced it. He never shied away from doing that before and you knew he wouldn’t start now.

You forced yourself to think about something else, grabbing the copy of American Gods you had already gone over once before but were subjecting to a reread. Opening the page you had last left it at, you were determined to distract yourself.

Nearly twenty minutes later and exactly zero pages since you had started, you realised that no matter how much you forced yourself to get into it, you went over the same line over and over again, not a single word registering in your head.

“Motherfucker,” you groaned, letting the book fall on your face. You took a long look outside the window, mind drifting.

It was a nice day out. Maybe some sun would help.

You lifted your legs off the bed, taking your book with you to the kitchen. You could get a nice sandwich-- the same as the last three fuckin’ weeks but you digressed-- a glass of water, and you could sit outside for a while. A mini picnic.

You opened a new packet of sliced bread, taking two out before stopping. You pondered over whether you should make him a sandwich for when he returned, knowing that he didn’t eat lunch before he left.

You thought about it for a good minute before rolling your eyes, pulling out two additional slices to make him one as well. It was just a sandwich. It wasn’t a big deal.

Tucking your book under your arm, you carried your lunch and a glass of water to the patio around the back.

The wind rustled the leaves and the sun wasn’t harsh. The low buzz of insects was the only sound that kept you company.

The air was crisp and you instantly felt better than you had all day in the room.

Setting your stuff down on the bench, you sat down, inhaling deeply.

The book suddenly didn’t seem so impossible to complete as you tried once more, slipping into the pages easily. Even after you finished your food, you continued to lounge about there, too engrossed and content to move.

You didn’t notice the afternoon go by, evening coming and going just as swiftly. You swatted at the occasional fly but nothing else bothered you.

It felt like summer break. At least what you thought it would feel like. You never had one, being homeschooled about things from various people in the organization. There wasn’t a singular, long break. You were just forced to adapt.

You didn't know how to deal with the suffocating realisation of knowing there were so many things you missed out on. It grew the longer you spent time away. You just shoved it away, forcing yourself to deal with it another day.

He comes back when the sky is slipping into shades of orange, a backpack on his shoulder. There was a patch of sweat around his neck and his head was hung low as he walked.

“Hey,” you hoped it didn't look like you were waiting for him. It could easily be taken as you camping out there, waiting for your husband to return from a hard day in the fields.

Sam looked up at your greeting. You noted that the bruise on his nose was starting to change colour but the swelling had reduced from how bad it used to be.

“Left you a sandwich on the counter if you’re hungry,” you added. He nodded in acknowledgement, making his way up the stairs and into the house without another word.

You let out an exhale, feeling a little better knowing that he was at least back in one piece. No reason to believe otherwise other than the anxiety you had developed over imagining the worst case scenarios.

You picked up your book again, intending to finish off the last bit before you went back inside for the day.

About half an hour later Sam re-emerged from the house, your attention snapping to him as the door opened and shut. He had changed into a new pair of clothes, looking a little cleaner like he was fresh outta the shower. He had a sandwich in his hand that he had already taken a few bites out of. You wondered if it was the one you left for him.

You didn’t expect him to take a seat next to you on the bench. He didn’t look at you or open his mouth to talk so you followed suit. You continued reading, or at least tried to, as he just sat there, finishing his sandwich without any kind of other interaction.

There was a strange tension he wasn’t addressing. He instead leaned back, arms crossed behind his neck to support his neck and closed his eyes. His foot tapped against the wooden floor and rather than getting annoyed, you found solace in the repetition.

“They recruited me on this day,” Sam said to no one in particular. His eyes were still closed and his feet still tapped against the ground. “Parents died when I was a kid, I got shifted around orphanages and homes a lot. Finally Ransone had someone pick me up.”

You closed your book softly, setting it down beside you. That’s what was bothering him.

Secret adoption is what they called it officially in the business, but around the organization it was just known as the recruitment process. Every record of Sam being alive would have been destroyed to maintain anonymity.

To the world he just… disappeared.

It was a day that clearly brought with it so much pain. You were too young to remember when you joined, and no one had kept track either. You supposed it was for the good.

It was supposed to be a happy day, one filled with new beginnings. Maybe that’s what he would have thought when he got picked. It’s what you did.

“I’m sorry,” you said, not having anything else to offer. You relieved your memories everyday in your head. Having a morbid anniversary of sorts would no doubt drain the life out of you; remembering one singular day that would trigger the rest of the decisions you made in your life.

He didn’t say anything in return. You turned your attention to the sky, finding it easier to look at that than the disturbed look on his face.

“Do you regret this?” he asked out of the blue.

“All of it,” you replied, without skipping a beat.

“Every single one, huh?” Sam’s one eye opened to peer at you.

“It wasn’t up to me to take someone’s life away.” You were just a child. You knew nothing other than what you were taught; so then why was it so fucking hard to forgive your past self for straying into this. “Even once I realised that I couldn’t leave.”

You didn’t form any relationships while you worked with Ransone. Whoever you did allow yourself to care for ended up dead or worse, sometimes as a cruel lesson to not make friends in the organization you worked in because all they served as were distractions and liabilities. Others were plain scum; people who you knew were using you but you didn’t care. The loneliness hurt worse.

“What about you?”

“I’d give anything to go back and change things,” he admitted. He didn’t have a say either. It didn’t make things easier.

“You regret all of ‘em too?”

“Mostly,” he said. “One of them I don’t.”

“That one must have deserved it then,” you deduced. It was the only logical explanation you could think of; the worst of the worst.

“Nah. I let him go.”

It took a while to register what he said.

“What?” You twisted your body to look at him.

“First mission I ever did.”

His hands were shaking lightly, barely holding on to the gun. This wasn’t what he was taught. Stay calm. Stay calm. Stay calm.

He had already managed to get his way into the house through the back. His partner had taken care of most of it and Sam only had to knock people out. He hadn’t had to kill anyone yet.

But now his partner was injured outside the door. Quick shot to the leg, a punch in the face and he was out cold. Sam was already in the master bedroom by the time it happened. He had no idea about where his partner was, only the crippling fear of being left alone and the nerves from the threat posed to him if this didn’t go right.

He knew he didn’t have enough time. He had only a few minutes to kill him and get out of there before his family returned.

The man itself was sitting at the study table, his back towards Sam. Just pull the trigger and get out of here. It was deadly silent.

“I know you’re here to kill me,” the man said suddenly. Sam nearly jumped but instead tightened the grip on the gun.

“Stay where you are.” He sounded confident.

“I’m not planning on going anywhere.” His chair swiveled around, letting him face Sam. His hair was white with a beard that matched. He was dressed down in his pajamas, a robe covering him. He didn’t look nervous.

“Stop talking.”

“You’re younger than what I expected,” the man observed, not paying heed to what Sam was in. He was a considerable distance away. “You’re not even legal yet, are you? I got kids, I would know.”

Sam didn’t say a word, only lifted his gun up to align with his forehead. “I said, stop talking.”

“I’ve made mistakes. Several, actually,” he mused, “It’s why your boss sent you here. I’ve accepted my fate.”

“Then it should be easy.”

“Oh, it never is,” the man chuckled. “It doesn’t get lighter. You learn to ignore it but it’ll weigh on you for the rest of your life.”

Sam’s jaw clenched. It would get easier. It had to.

“I doubt that’s what you heard, however,” he continued. “Ransone’s a bit… unstable. It’s in his blood, but you- you don’t look like you could live with it.”

Ransone’s history was well known enough that rival gang leaders knew it too, apparently. The man would have been delighted at his infamous reputation.

Just shoot him. Just shoot him and end this.

“What’s your name?” the man asked, taking a sip from the tumbler he had in his hand. “You’re going to be the last person I talk to. It’d be nice to have a name.”

“Sam,” he whispered, inwardly cursing himself.

“Sam. That’s a strong name,” the man said, clicking the roof of his mouth with his tongue. “Are you sure this is what you want to do, Sam?”

It wasn’t.

“I don’t have a choice.” He hated how defeated he sounded. It was a weakness.

“They want you to believe that. It takes away your freedom. I would know, I’ve used it.” The man smiled, setting down his glass. “I’ll tell you this though, Sam. You always have a choice.”

“Stop talking, man.” Sam pulled the safety off.

“Once you go down this way, there’s no way you can escape. Someone will always have to die; either him or you.”

“That’s not true.” He could leave at any time. He just needed-

“You’ll see for yourself.” The man leaned back on his chair, resigned. “But for now, go ahead. I’ll make it easy for you.”

He simply closed his eyes and sat back.

You waited for Sam to continue.

“Couldn’t do it,” he said, shaking his head lightly. “Son of a bitch got in my head and I knew what he was doing too. Told him to get the fuck out before my partner shot him in the face.”

“Does Ransone know?” You were still reeling from the incident he recounted. You didn't know what else to say.

“Holds it over me every damn day,” he scoffed. “Some fucked up way of saying that I owe him one.”

To be frank, you were surprised Sam was still alive to tell you. Everyone knew that Ransone forgiven the first mistake someone made, but this was huge. If it were anyone else, he would have had someone try out a hundred different ways to push Sam to the brink of death and back; having him begging for the release that death would bring.

“He hasn’t ever cashed in that favour?”

“He did. Had me take out the leader of the Ten Rings after that.”

“So then why did you still continue?”

“I did something extremely dangerous a couple of years ago that he found out about recently. Used that to get me to come for this mission.”

He didn’t elaborate what he meant and you didn’t ask him to. You supposed it was a story for another day. This was heavy enough.

“He wants to get rid of me as much as I want to get away from him, trust me. We’re the weird, toxic relationship those self-help Instagram pages warned you about.” Trust Sam to make a dumb joke during a conversation like this. “Probably the only time someone from the gang let their target go and not died.”

That wasn’t as true as he thought he was but you didn’t want to seem like you were one-upping him. You didn’t want him to think you were making this about you.

“You remember the big break you were talking about?” you tread carefully, gauging his reaction before you continued. “The one that pushed me up the ranks or whatever.”

He gave a small hum of acknowledgement, bringing his hands from behind his head to fold across his chest.

“Similar story, ‘cept Ransone doesn’t know.”

“What?” His eyes shot open. “How?”

“I was so tired of him treating me like a child. Everyone around who joined after me was out there doinghardcore missions and I was stuck with petty shit.” You didn’t know any better. You wished you had. “So he told me if I made it through this one, he’d send me on more.”

This wasn’t your first mission. You had handled hits before, mostly in the shadows, from a distance.

This was different. It was broad daylight, waiting behind a wall near the gated entrance of the house for a car to pull up.

A challenge, Ransone had posed, with strict instructions to do it in broad daylight. If you got out of this undetected, he’d consider sending you on more sophisticated missions.

“Highly stealthy. They’re dangerous,” you were warned. “You won’t know what hit you if you’re caught off your game.”

The low rumble of the car outside the gate alerted you of your target’s arrival. The gates weren’t going to open, the guards were dead.

The car stopped, waiting for the path to open up. When it didn’t the car’s engine slowed to a stop. The man in the driver’s seat got out to open the gate, giving you a clear shot.

You took a deep breath, clenching your eyes shut for a second before taking aim.

The body hit the gravel and you quickly made your way to the car. You could see the woman in the backseat gaping at where the man was standing a few seconds ago. She was struggling against the door, trying to escape.

She finally succeeded, the door opening suddenly as she stumbled over herself trying to get out.

“Stay there,” you commanded. She slowly looked up at you, face white as a sheet.

“Please,” she croaked. “Don’t hurt us.”

“I’m sorry.” You truly were.

Her face changed, dropping the facade immediately. She just looked on in acceptance, not making an effort to move. Manipulative. She almost had you convinced

You held the gun over her, pulling the trigger. A single shot. Her body slumped over.

You stared at her in silence, expressionless. You let out an exhale, tucking the gun back into the waist of your pants, stepping over her body to leave.

A small, staggering breath made you stop in your tracks. It was so slight you barely heard it. You took a step back, trying to trace where it came from.

You ducked your head to peer into the car, your heart stopping. Your hand instinctively reached for your weapon.

“What the-” you muttered, facing a boy who looked only a few years younger than you. He was staring straight ahead, muscles in his jaw tight.

The son wasn’t supposed to be here. He was supposed to be abroad, according to the case file. Unless there were two of them you didn’t know about, this boy wasn’t supposed to be here.

“Listen,” you began, but he didn’t look at you. Just stared straight ahead, body trembling. He was scared. He didn’t show it.

“Show no mercy,” Ransone’s voice rang in your head.

“He’s a child,” you murmured to yourself. Your gun felt heavy in your hand.

Show no mercy.

You could only imagine what would be in store for you if you returned to Ransone with some tale of sympathy. This boy was only a few years younger than you. He didn’t have anything to do with this.

Show no mercy.

“Kid,” you called out. He slowly turned his head. “Go on. Get out of here.”

“What?” he asked, voice hoarse.

“Leave. You can’t be seen if someone comes back,” you urged. “I won’t be able to help you.”

“You killed my mom,” he jeered, unmoving.

“I’m sorry. I had to.” Your voice was quiet. Your hand clutched at the hood of the car to keep your balance. “But I don’t want to hurt you. Go.”

When he didn’t shift, you slammed the hood of the car, scaring him enough to pull at the door and stagger out of the car.

You turned your back to him, not waiting to see where he was going. The more deniability you had, the better.

“Did he make it?”

“He did,” you divulged the information you had found out a while ago. It was a messy confrontation to say the least but you got out unscathed.

“And Ransone doesn’t know.”

“There’s no record of this kid. He thinks he was at boarding school.” You shrugged. “Wasn’t going to correct him either.”

“If he did find out-” Sam trailed off.

“I’d be dead,” you concluded. “Being his favourite wouldn’t matter.”

“Why was it such a big deal, this mission?”

“She was a part of a major gang that Ransone was losing to.”

Sam just nodded knowingly, looking ahead again. You knew he’d done missions like this as well. Things like this were common so it didn’t need further elaboration.

“This job sucks,” he let out.

You gave a short laugh. That was an understatement.

“I want out. Can’t keep doin’ this for much longer,” he continued, however, to your surprise. “Don’t wanna keep doin’ this.”

You bit your lip, eyebrows knitted in concern. “You will.”

“How?” You hadn’t seen him like this before, this hint of desperation in his tone that left as quickly as it came. “I’ve tried, everything just comes up short.”

“I’ll help you.” You wanted to, God you did.

“You gonna kill him for me?” He looked at you. “‘Cause that’s really the only way out of this.”

If you were pushed to the limit, if he was on his knees in front of you and there was a gun in your hand pointed at him; would you be able to pull the trigger? Would you be able to kill the only constant you’d had for more than half your life?

“I can’t,” you muttered, dejection making its way into your thoughts.

“I know,” Sam said softly, “I wouldn’t ask you to either.”

You took a moment to observe him. The sun did him good. There was a soft glow to his skin, the colours of the sunset dancing in his dark eyes. Laugh lines were becoming more prominent around them, only adding to its charm.

He was a good man. He deserved better.

“I’ll find a way,” you sounded determined, “I promise.”

You didn’t say that very often. Your word didn’t mean a lot to people in the business, but it seemed to, to him.

“Thank you.” He appeared taken aback but didn’t show it in his words.

You simply sent him a smile, a reassurance. You knew what you had to do, just weren’t sure how.

He was right. There wasn’t a way out of it other than the one he proposed, but it wasn’t an option. You had to find another.

You would. You’d figure it out.

“It’s Cinnamon, by the way,” he said without any context.

You looked at him in question.

“My embarrassing nickname.” This was not where you saw the conversation heading but you were delighted all of a sudden. “My ma used to call me that all the damn time. Mortifying.”

“Cinnamon and Buttercup.” You didn’t bother hiding the grin that spread across your face. “World’s best assassins.”

“If that name ever leaves this conversation, I’ll know who to murder.”

“You couldn’t even if you tried,” you said playfully, nudging his shoulder.

He shrugged, face relaxed. “T’was worth a shot.”

An unintentional pun you snickered at. You didn’t tease him any further, just filed the name away as a memory. Maybe you’d use it later.

“Have you ever let anyone go after that?” You didn’t want to keep coming back to this conversation but you liked having someone to relate to.

“No.” Sam shook his head. “Didn’t want to test my luck.”

“Me too.” One had been enough. You lived in fear for so long, waiting for someone to pull the plug and tell him what you’d done. That fear only grew everyday, finding a place at the deepest corner of your mind to fester.

“It’s what I meant when I said Serpentine had a motive to want me dead,” Sam said, piquing your interest once more.

“Huh?”

“The man I was supposed to kill- he was their old head. He disappeared after that and no one heard from him but it pissed off everyone, right from Ransone to their stupid gang’s janitor,” he explained, your eyes going wide with every word. “So the irony is, if we’re right, I might have led us into this situation. They’re looking for revenge.”

“Holy shit,” you uttered under your breath.

“I just assumed he died of old age if someone didn’t get to him first. He looked like he was one birthday away from the grave anyway.”

“How are you still alive, Sam?” you asked in wonder.

“I’d do it again.” He laughed, a deep one from his stomach.

He was reckless, clearly. Happily and unashamedly so. And if you continued to hang out with him after this was over, he’d probably get you killed in some stunt or two.

But maybe you’d deal with that if the time came. 

He leaned back again, this time no creases on his forehead from stress. He looked at peace.

You sat together in silence. You occasionally stole glances at him as the sun set in front of you, a small smile on your face.

You leaned your head on his shoulder tentatively. You could feel him tilt his head to look at you and you prepared to have him ask you to move.

It never came. Instead, he scooted closer to you, letting you rest against him more comfortably. Your heart skipped a beat; barely but surely. 

A realisation quickly hit you, suddenly before consuming you. Your stomach sank.  

“Fuck.”

Next part