#next semester is going to be rough though. screaming and crying

[oysterie]

oh my god i just checked why did i think i needed a B in chem to do the transfer program.

[meltwonu]

| 𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔩 𝔦 𝔪𝔢𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 |     [Chapter 1] 

pairing; fratboy!wonwoo x reader

this chapter’s notes; fratboy!wonwoo, dom!wonwoo, dirty talk, masturbation, sex toys, mentions of sexting/sending photos/videos, baby this has hella plot lmao dkhf 🥴💕 WELCOME TO UNTIL I MET YOU!! THE MINI-SEQUEL TO CAFFEINE! A bit of a shorter chapter but I didn’t want to overload with too much everything in the first chapter, ykwim? 😎 Thank you so much for your patience with this sequel, I know there were a ton of people asking for a sequel for months after I said I would 💕😭😭 As always, inbox roundup tomorrow! And don’t forget, next chapter for UIMY goes up on Feb 26th! T|H ch 1 next Friday! 🥰💕 Enjoy ch 1, have a great weekend and I love you! 💕

chapters; 1 - x - x - x - x

“Mmh… Wonwoo…”

His hands roam all over your naked body; warmth spreading all over when he digs his blunt fingernails into the skin of your waist.

“Feels good, doesn’t it? Did you miss me, sweetheart?” His voice is soft, gentle, yet teasing; barely above a whisper as your back bows off of the bed to lean into his simple touches. “I missed you, sweetheart. Missed your ‘lil cunt too.”

A choked sob falls from your lips, followed quickly by rushed, hurried cries for Wonwoo to move faster.

“Don’t you want me to take my time? We haven’t seen each other in months.” 

There’s a smirk on his lips, eyes twinkling with mischief when you reply back with a shaky whine. “Don’t you want me to slide my cock into your pretty ‘lil pussy nice ‘n slow? Let you feel every inch of me filling you up, just like it’s the first time all over again.” He stares at you dreamily; fixated on the way your body chases his hands when he drags them down to your thighs. “Or would you prefer it if I fucked you hard and fast? Your cute body squirming and trembling from how good I give it to you and my cock slamming into your tight ‘lil cunt.”

Wonwoo’s fingertips spread your folds as he licks his lips; appreciating how wet you already were for him.

“Bet your toys don’t feel as good as the real thing, huh?”

You shake your head ‘no’ furiously, “N-no, god, no! Wonwoo, p-please!” The male grins down at you, pouting mockingly at your desperate, pleading eyes. 

The wetness between your legs is unbearable and the sobs are caught in your throat when Wonwoo leans over you, lips ghosting across your own.

“Okay. Just say--”

You’re shocked awake by your alarm clock; chest heaving in deep breaths as you sit up in your crumpled sheets. “Oh, fuck...” Groaning, your clammy palms reach for the ringing device as you shut it off and sigh.

The clock reads 10:02AM; tired eyes trying to blink away the sleep that threatens to take you back to the dreamland you much preferred. Although, dreaming about Wonwoo was becoming a little bit too common these last few days.

Sighing once more, you move to get out of bed; already finding your panties soaking wet and sticking to you like a second skin when you stand.

“Ugh... Damn it.”

You press the vibrator harder onto your clit; teeth chattering with the pleasure that pours over your body.

“Oh, god, please, p-please…”

Images of Wonwoo dance behind your eyelids; sultry smirks and teasing glances bringing you closer and closer to the edge of an orgasm.

If there was anything that the last few months without Wonwoo taught you, it was that you couldn’t afford to lose him - in more ways than one. And despite his lack of calls or even text messages, you held out in hopes he still felt the same way that you did despite the distance.

You sent him pictures and videos of yourself often; teasing images half naked, toys in hand, and videos crying out his name while you came. And while he took the time to reply to those with praise and adoration, he almost never sent anything back. 

When he did, it was always short, clipped replies of how exhausted he was and how he didn’t have much time.

“Ngh, h-harder…” Your toes curl against the bedsheet; phantom feelings of his cock fucking you hard and deep making you cry out in desperation to be filled by his cock.

Your phone rings on the nightstand next to you as you cum - vibrator pressed so hard against your clit that your back bows off of the sheets while your thighs shake uncontrollably. 

And for the first time in a long time, it’s an orgasm that feels like it’s worth something.

‘Gyu: hey did wonwoo text u?

‘Gyu: he’s back next monday he said

‘Gyu: idk abt classes tho, might be out of commission for a while bc jetlag

‘Gyu: thinking abt throwing him a party on friday after he comes back...

‘Gyu: u wanna plan with us orrrrr? U got a private party or sth 🥴😏

‘Gyu: lmk

You’re nervous. Shy, even.

After you’d come down from your orgasm and checked your phone, your mind momentarily went blank from shock and the first thing you’d done was text Wonwoo to ask if he was really coming back that soon.

‘Ah, yeah, I was just about to text you. Prof said we can go home early if we wanted since we finished up classes. I’ll see you sometime next week? Jetlag and stuff.’, was all he had said and in your excited state, the only thing you had responded with was an, ‘Okay, great!’, without asking when, where, or what time.

You figured you’d give him some time to readjust instead of bombarding him as soon as he got in. But each second that you knew Wonwoo was home, you found yourself itching to just be in his presence.

You just had to be a little more patient.

Wednesday morning comes and you find yourself skipping your morning class to go to the library.

For studying, you tell yourself.

The male at the receptionist table shoots you a small smile to which you awkwardly smile back before ducking into an empty aisle. All you knew was that it seemed like Wonwoo wasn’t here.

Maybe he’s still at the frat house, you wonder.

Sighing slightly under your breath, you decide that maybe getting some work done would actually help distract you from looking for the male.

You find an empty table, setting your things down before pulling out your phone. 

In all honesty, you weren’t even sure why you were being so shy and nervous about contacting Wonwoo, especially when you so unabashedly sent him nudes every few days when he was away. 

Although, with how things had been before he left and the prospect of actually dating once he came back from his semester abroad - the butterflies in your stomach had been nonstop with the different scenarios that played out in your head. You’d even gone so far as to plan what happened if Wonwoo had decided he didn’t want to make an attempt at dating you.

“Sweetheart?”

The grip you have on your phone only tightens as you whip your head around to find Wonwoo standing behind your chair and you swear your heart stops beating the same time your breath gets caught in your throat. “H-huh?”

He smiles gently down at you and you can’t help but wonder how long you were spaced out to not notice him there. 

“Is this a dream too?” You wonder aloud - Wonwoo chuckling in response as he moves to collect your things for you.

“Have you been dreaming about me that much, sweetheart?” You stutter and stumble over your words; embarrassment eating at you every second that Wonwoo has a knowing smile plastered on his lips.

“C’mon, let’s go get something to eat since we both know you’re not really here to study.”

The version of Wonwoo that sits across the cafe table is… different.

Not bad, just different.

His arms are much tanner and definitely more muscular and the glasses missing from his face lets you appreciate his eyes even more when they’re not hidden behind the thick frames. He had even opted to wear a sleeveless shirt; something that you weren’t used to when he usually was around campus in long sleeves and sweater vests.

Although, you can’t and won’t deny the way your body reacts to this Wonwoo.

“Hey, I’m talking to you and you’re just spacing out.” Muttering, he leans over the small cafe table until his face is only inches away from yours and the smirk on his lips already lets you know that you’ve been caught staring.

“Listen, I know I’ve been gone for three months but you’re lookin’ at me like you haven’t had a fix in all that time.” Your lips press into an embarrassed firm line, avoiding his stare as he raises a brow at you.

“Wait, you didn’t fuck anyone in the three months I was gone?”

“No… did you?” Your voice is barely above a whisper; a little afraid that his answer will be ‘yes’ when he takes a second longer to respond.

“Nah,” He settles back into his seat, “I told you, didn’t I? I was willing to try the whole… dating, relationship thing with you when I got back. Although, I’m somewhat surprised one of the others didn’t try to seduce you while I was gone.”

You laugh slightly, cheeks warm as Wonwoo teases. “I wouldn’t have given them the time of day anyway.”

Your entire body burns hot, palms clammy in your lap from how giddy you were to be with Wonwoo and it made your heart do backflips knowing that he’d still been willing to try with you.

“Ah, how was it abroad anyway? You… didn’t really say much over the past few months so I feel like I don’t know how you were. Just some messages about how tired you were...” He takes a sip of his coffee; unintentionally making you internally scream when his lips form a pout while he thinks.

“Honestly? Other than the days we were excavating ‘n stuff, it was pretty boring. Really hectic though, and a lot of documenting which meant a lot of paperwork. I swear, I closed my eyes and I saw the inside of my textbooks.” He chuckles lightly, eyes focused on the cup of coffee in front of him.

“I just want to say sorry for my lack of communication. I really didn’t expect to be so busy that I couldn’t even pick up a call.” There’s a genuine apologetic look on Wonwoo’s face when he looks back at you. “And the time difference was really rough too. I didn’t want to take it out on you over the phone if I was stressed about not sleeping or the workload. I know we can get a little rough when we ‘play’ but this wasn’t that and it wouldn’t have been fair.”

Oh.

“T-that’s okay, I understand!” Your heart does somersaults in your chest, “I--thank you for thinking about me too.”

The feelings you have bubbling up inside of you make you feel like you’re falling in love for the first time, all over again. “Um… Sorry I sent so many pictures ‘n stuff.”

Wonwoo laughs, this time throwing his head back slightly before he tries to hide his wide grin. “Oh, sweetheart. Don’t apologize.” Your eyes meet his and for a split second, you see the familiar dominating look in his eyes before he leans over the small cafe table again.

“I might’ve not had all the time to entertain you those times but I thought about you alllll the time. I missed everything about you.” His voice is barely above a whisper - careful to not let anyone else in the cafe hear the topic of conversation. “Which, by the way…You piqued my interest earlier with your question. You never really answered my question about having dreams about me.”

You shift in your seat as you avert your eyes from his; eyes flitting down his toned body instead as you mentally curse yourself.

“I… kinda? I m-mean… not normally but just--just these last few days. It’s almost been every night… I wake up and--and it’s just… I’m...” You trail off; somewhat shy to say the rest of what you were going to say even though you’re almost certain Wonwoo already knows.

“Odd. Me too. I kept dreaming about you, which is, honestly, kind of why I thought to come back earlier.”

“Oh?”

“Mm, we still had 2 weeks left, technically. A bit of a spillover since my professor wanted us to explore the city once finals were over. But I just wanted to come home.” He finishes with a chuckle - a soft look in his eyes.

You pout back at him, “You didn’t come home early just for ‘lil ‘ol me, did you?” You say it jokingly, but deep down you do wonder.

“Would that be so bad?” Grinning, Wonwoo sets a couple of bills down onto the table to cover the meals you both barely have touched.

“Like I said, I missed everything about you, sweetheart.”

Wonwoo walks you back to your place afterwards; laughing and joking with you as if he hadn’t been gone for the last 3 months. 

There’s a certain playfulness about him that makes your heart bloom and part of you wonders if he’s opening up to you more now that there’d been some time apart.

“Are you gonna be working at the library again? Or is that done forever now?” “Mm.. I mean, it’d be kind of weird if I stopped, don’t you think?”

The grin of his face is telling and you have to mentally stop yourself from letting your mind wander in the middle of the sidewalk. “Y-yeah... Studying in my apartment isn’t really the same, y’know…”

Laughing, Wonwoo takes the opportunity to swing an arm around your shoulder as he tucks you under his arm. “I was actually at the library earlier to ask about my position back. I start tomorrow.” Goosebumps rise on your skin and the close proximity is enough to make you whimper.

“I’m only taking two classes this semester to give myself a bit of a break so I’ll be in the library more often to fill up the time. You can always call me if you need to know where I am. I promise I’ll respond this time, sweetheart.”

Before you know it, the two of you are already standing outside of your complex as Wonwoo takes his arm off of you.

“Will I be seeing you tomorrow?” There’s a hopeful lilt to his voice that has you nodding feverishly in return.

“I have a morning class but I’ll come by in the afternoon? I can text you to let you know, just in case.” You offer back.

Wonwoo licks his lips, tilting his head before leaning down and kissing you on the forehead.

The soft gesture momentarily throws you off as you freeze but the smoldering look in Wonwoo’s eyes when he pulls away lets you know that he’s already scheming.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, sweetheart.”

[helloprettybb]

shut up

i know this is coming out of nowhere but kinda in the mood for draco. idk why, something about him just hits different so here’s a sorta short but very smutty thing with him. also, i want both draco and the reader to be closer to eighteen, but since everyone was fighting a war and such their last year, let’s pretend that didn’t happen. so a sorta alt universe where there is no second wizarding war and like everyone is in school for all seven years. this was supposed to be pure smut but since i’m soft, it has to be fluffy at the end.

description: draco malfoy is an arsehole. but that doesn’t stop you from meeting him in an abandoned classroom.

warnings: cursing, smuttt, unprotected sex, choking

word count: 2k

“I didn’t think you’d be here.” It’s the first thing Draco says as you enter the room.

”Why the fuck wouldn’t I be here?” you reply impatiently. Since everyone is probably in the Common Rooms this afternoon, you and Draco are in an abandoned classroom. Luckily, nobody teaches here anymore, so that’s at least one weight off of your conscience.

”I don’t know. Thought maybe you’d be with Potter,” he snipes back. 

You roll your eyes, “You know I want nothing to do with Harry.” Although Draco wouldn’t admit it, you know he’s jealous of your friendship with Harry. You two have never had romantic feelings toward each other and Draco knows that, but you still see his fists clench whenever you talk to Harry.

“Yeah? Then why were you eye-fucking him all of Potions.” he asks.

You laugh at Draco’s clear jealousy, “I wasn’t you daft dimbo!” 

You walk closer to Draco. “Whatever.” Draco brushes off, looking away from you. You stop in front of him so that there’s only a foot apart. You lift Draco’s chin to make him look you in the eye. He almost looks hurt and against your wishes, your heart hurts a little for him.

You mutter a quick come here, you idiot, before pulling him to your lips. Draco lowers his hands to your waist as he kisses you back. It’s only been a couple months since this whole fling started, but you can already feel a drastic change in your relationship.

It was only a week or so into the semester when Draco caught you walking down an empty corridor. The two of you spewed insults back and forth except this time, there was no audience. Draco had said something that made you want to jinx him into the infirmary, but your brain turned off, and instead, you yanked him by the back of the neck and down to your mouth. You didn’t know what the hell you were doing and thought he was going to kill you, but instead, he kisses you back. 

You pull away for a second and Draco stares at you. The two of you, both breathing heavily, before continuing with the same vigor as before. You imbue all the fury and frustration you feel towards him into the kiss and you think that he may be doing the same. Draco’s been your practical enemy since first year and you hate him with your whole being. But right now, you’re letting him guide you backward until you hit a door. He blindly feels for the handle before the door opens behind you.

You look around and realize you’re in a classroom. Before you could worry about whose room you’re about to defile, Draco hoists you onto a desk and begins to grind into your hips. The next half hour is filled with pants and moans, something you never thought would happen with Draco Malfoy of all people. He’s rough, but you wanted it that way. Ever since that first night in the abandoned classroom, the two of you had a mostly consistent schedule of hooking up in odd places around the castle (or that one time down by the Black Lake). You’ve never done it in a bed because you’d be dead if one of you were found in the other’s room.

Your brain snaps back to the present as Draco’s hands move their way up your body. His hands roughly grab at your hips as they push you back against the desk. You push yourself up onto the desk so that you can at least be eye level with him. You remove your sweater as Draco removes his and you expect him to reconnect your lips, but he moves down so that he’s level with your pussy. Before you can ask why he’s doing that, you feel him play with the waistband of your skirt. You give him consent to slide your skirt off along with your panties. You’re mostly naked, with only your bra still on and the wooden desk is cold against your skin.

You would be more bothered by the temperature of the desk if it weren’t for Draco diving into your pussy. You throw your head back as Draco dips his tongue and starts eating you out. Your right hand immediately goes to his hair as your left goes behind you for support. He adds one finger and you gasp, giving his hair a sudden squeeze. He groans beneath you and adds another finger. 

He’s been eating you out for who knows how long and you can feel yourself on the brink. The grip on his hair gets tighter, signaling to Draco that you’re almost there. One last thrust and you’ll be cumming around his fingers. You gasp one last time and can feel your climax before his head leaves your pussy.

“You dick.” you tell him. You want to rip his head off for getting you so close before pulling away. Draco ignores you as he starts to unbuckle his belt. He pulls you into a fierce kiss which you reciprocate with equal passion. Because even though Draco Malfoy is the actual worst, he’s pretty good at kissing. You hear his belt clatter to the ground which is followed by his trousers. 

You palm him over his briefs and you get a groan in response. You would tease him to get back at him for delaying your orgasm, but your lust-filled mind can only think of Draco railing you into tomorrow.

You pull him out of his briefs and quickly push them down. You spread your legs a little wider signaling that you need him now. Draco strokes himself a couple times before sliding into you smoothly. You grab onto his bicep as he begins to roughly thrust into you. The desk shakes underneath you but you couldn’t care less. One of Draco’s hands is on your hip while the other snakes its way up your shoulder and to your throat. You gasp lightly as you feel his fingers wrap around your neck.

Draco squeezes your throat a couple times, each one eliciting a breathy sigh from you. The first few times you hooked up, you were worried that Draco would bully you for how you acted during sex, but he never did. You think he secretly likes how you bend to him and only him.

“Fuck, so tight on my cock. Squeezing me so tight, shit.” Draco grunts in your ear. You can only respond with a stream of ahs and ohs. You feel him hit the spot and you keen. 

You hear him chuckle into the shell of your ear, “Is that it? That’s the spot that’ll make you all weak for me?” If it weren’t for the immense amount of pleasure you were feeling, you’d yell at him for his condescending tone. But you want him to do it again, so you nod furiously. 

Draco doesn’t let up and continues to abuse your pussy over and over. Your grip on his arm starts to falter so you move both hands to his back. You scratch down his back and you think you hurt him, but Draco’s louder groans tell you otherwise. 

“D-don’t stop.” you muster out. Draco keeps going, his eyes going from your bouncing tits to your pleasure-screwed face. 

“Who’s making you feel this good?” Draco asks. His commanding tone turning you on even more.

“You.” You’re fucked out and struggling to keep your thoughts clear. 

“No,” he slaps your ass, making you keen again. “Who’s fucking you so good you won’t be able to walk tomorrow?” 

“You, Draco. You are.” you cry out, almost there. You’re so close that you can feel the beginnings of your orgasm.

“That’s right. I’m the only one that can make my baby feel this good. You’re mine.” Draco rambles. Then he says, “All mine.” You instantly cum around his cock and scream his name so loud that you almost worry that your silencing charm couldn’t disguise your volume.

“Fuck, baby. Screaming my name so loud.” Draco pants in between thrusts. They start to falter as he lets out one last huff of your name before finishing. You moan when you feel his cum, smiling at its warmth. Draco stays in you for a little as both of you catch your breaths. You catch his eye for a moment and it looks like he’s about to say something before averting his eyes.

Draco pulls out of you slowly and you feel his cum leak out. Your thighs shake at the sensitivity and he pretends not to notice. You hop off of the desk and reach for your clothes which are pooled underneath. The two of you redress, not saying a word. You can feel his eyes as you slide your skirt back on. Draco gets dressed before you and walks toward the door. “Baby.” you mutter, your mind drifting to the last five minutes. 

Draco stops in his tracks and turns to you. He shoots you a glare, “Shut up.” You didn’t need his words to tell you that, but you wanted this for a long time, maybe even longer than you realized.

“No, I really like it.” you tell him. Your attempt to be genuine fails since you’ve never once had an honest conversation with Draco.

“Seriously, shut it.” Draco retorts, clearly peeved because you violated the one unspoken rule of talking about what happens during sex.

“I mean it. I wouldn’t mind if you called me it more.” you mutter the last part. Draco’s head snaps up at that. He definitely heard you and judging by the look in his eyes, you’re screwed.

“Are you fucking with me?” Draco asks. His furrowed brows and condescending tone infuriate you. Here you are trying and failing to confess your feelings and he’s being a total prick.

“No, Malfoy!” you exclaim, using his last name, something  you only do when you’re truly mad. “I’ve actually liked you for a pretty long time, but now you’re making me feel like a complete idiot so I don’t know what to say anymore!” You didn’t mean to explode that much. But now you completely ruined any chance you would have had with him. Fuck, you ruined anything. No more hookups, no more quick comments now that your secret is out. 

“I like you, too.” Draco replies. His calm tone juxtaposes your outburst and gives you emotional whiplash. 

“Wait, what?” you say out loud, completely removed from your previous anger.

“I...” Draco starts, walking back to you, “Like...” He’s so close now that you have to look up to make eye contact with him. “You.” he finishes. If your heart wasn’t racing from nerves, you would roll your eyes at him for drawing that out so long. For once, you are absolutely speechless. You don’t know where to go from here, so Draco helps make the decision for you. He gently connects your lips and rather than immediately going to your waist or arse, he settles his hand on your cheek. The softness is heart-wrenching and it almost hurts that you didn’t do this sooner. But at least you’re doing it now, which is good enough for you.

He separates eventually but keeps his forehead against yours. “So...” he says.

“So...” you mimic. The two of you break into laughter, so refreshing compared to your usual tension. When your laughter dies down, you repeat, “I really, really like you, Draco.”

“I really, really like you, too.” he copies and you smile like a complete idiot, but you don’t care because he’s doing the same. Although neither of you said it, you’ve seemed to come to an unspoken agreement that you two are a couple now.

You hold Draco’s hand as you exit the classroom and come face to face with Colin Creevey and his camera. Before either of you could react, he snaps a picture and runs off. 

You and Draco stare at each other as you hear Colin running down the corridor, yelling about the new couple. Draco looks like he wants to chase him down, but you suggest celebrating your new relationship somewhere more private. He spares Colin a second thought before guiding you to his room.

[miyaniacs]

PROLOGUE

NAVIGATION

summary: Reader: female; 20 years old ; Apparently you know something… but what this something is you still got to find out.

But curses, good and bad sorcerer now want to get you into their hands.

Ending up in the hands of the good ones, y/n finally meets her old best friend again - Yuji. Now Yuji and his friends make it their mission to keep you save in this whole new world. Days turn into weeks and you become closer and closer to your ‚bodyguards‘

Warnings: blood & not proof read bc I’m lazy

A/N: feedback & reblogs are welcome, especially since this is a new fic / story form I’m trying to do ^^ I hope you’ll like my lil attempt to give you all a jjk otome ‘game’ haha tell me if any of you wanna be tagged ^^

Cold air blows into your face as you exit the library. Looking up at the stars, you sigh. You‘ve lost track in time studying for your finals. It’s your third semester now and depending on how you’ll succeed in your finals, you either get a step closer to getting your dream job or all the semesters were for nothing.

Yuji always joked about you wanting to get rich, to help him succeed going on a date with one of his famous crushes… well with a certain one.

“Yuji - how would you be able to suddenly appear right in front of Jennifer Lawrence and save her from a monster - IF you don’t have the money to appear in whatever country she’s in?”

“And you’d give me the money??”

“That’s what your sugar mommy is for right?”

“In no where - NEVER - you’ll pass as a sugar mommy!”

“Lemme get that cash and the clothes and you’ll see.”

So here you are, trying your best to get an A in your business class to be able to turn the 2 weeks internship at Zenin Enterprise into a one year one and hopefully a job after graduating.

‘I’ll show you Yuji- you’ll get a check in your mail someone …’ you think.

Even though you haven’t seen him that much after the incident in your high school, you still texted every day and somehow managed to see each other about three times a year. At first you were pissed, because he didn’t tell you what he was up to and why he changed schools - but you leaned to accept it, he was still your best friend and nothing would change that.

Walking over the campus you make your way towards the train station smiling when you see Yujis name pop up on your screen.

“Hey hey Yuu~” you smile as you pick up the phone.

“Y/n! Where are you right now?” He asks, panic lacing in his voice.

“Just got out of the library, why what’s up?” You ask, your bows furrow a bit.

“Get back inside. Now. Immediately.!” He scream shouts.

“Yuji why- my last train arrives in a few minutes.” You whine, but stopped walking.

“Trust me Y/n. Please.” He begs, “I’ll be there in a few minutes!”

“Okay okay- is it because of the thing you can’t tell me about?” You turn around and start jogging back towards the library.

“Yes.” he says.

“Okay I trust you, I’ll be in the library in ab- AHHHHHHHHH”

“Y/N - Y/N TALK TO ME - Y/N!!!”

“THERE IS SOMETHING COMING CLOSER - YUJI WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE A MONSTER”

“NO NO NOOO RUN - RUN NOW!”

And you start running, this thing comes closer and closer, you can hear it’s steps getting faster and faster.

Your legs move faster than you thought they could, mentally your thankful for forcing yourself to go to the gym regularly.

Yet the thing gets closer.

You can now hear it’s breath, feel it in your neck.

All the small hairs on your skin turn up and tears stream down your face.

“Y/NNN!!!” You head Yujis voice coming closer from the distance.

“YUJI I AM HERE - HELP ME!!” You cry out.

Suddenly something slimy wraps around your ankle and you fall flat in the ground.

Screaming out in pain, you feel yourself getting dragged over the hard ground, some sharp claws digging into the flesh of your leg. Feeling the blood run down your leg, you try to grab anything and everything your hands can reach to stop the monster to … to eat you?

Your finger tips get bloody while you try to desperately hold onto the asphalt, just to feel your body getting dragged further away from panicked voice of your best friend.

Then - you stopped moving.

The force that dragged you away stopped. Turning around you see the lifeless arm of that thing hanging on your lap, but the rest of it is still moving, with one arm missing.

A blond haired man stands in front of you, some sort of short sword in one hand. He glanced over his shoulder, “Why are you still here? Run!” He says in a way too calm voice.

Trying your best, you try to get up, flinching as you now feel all the wounds on your body.

Your left leg, with the arm still hanging on it, collapses again and again whenever you try to put some pressure on it.

Something soft nudged your leg and pushes onto the arm. Looking down you see… a dog? Or a wolf? You’re not quite sure but whatever it is- it helps you getting that thing off.

“This takes way too long.” You hear someone saying and in a matter of seconds your thrown over the shoulder from some guy, you think you’ve seen someone during your FaceTime chats with Yuji.

“Care to help us?” He says to a white haired man with a blindfold on.

“Mhhh… no. I think you students should be able to finish this thing alone.” He smiles brightly, yet the man carrying you clearly seems annoyed. “But you can leave her with me, I’ll take care of her ~”

A silent scream escapes your lips, as the men sets you down, rather … rough, causing you to put pressure on your injured leg.

“Megumi! Haven’t I taught you how to treat a women!” The white haired male sighs and puts a hand on his forehead, shaking his head dramatically.

“This isn’t some sort of joke.” The blond one, that practically saved you from the monster, walks over to you.

“Well… the curse is tho - we thought they’d send something strong to get her, judging by who badly everyone seems to get her - but no. They sent this joke.” He gestures towards the monster, which is now surrounded by three younger looking men.

The one that carried you, another white haired one, with the neck of this jacked turned upwards and … Yuji!

Your eyes lit up the second you recognize your best friend.

He meets your eyes and a small smile appearance on his face, no wait… his mouth shouldn’t be there … why is it on his cheek?

You blink a few times, but his mouth now seems to be as normal as it can be.

The blood loos probably got to your head.

Right blood!

Looking down you see the blood still running down your leg. Reaching down, you touch the wound, regretting it the second you did so.

“Hey, wait, I get some first aid bandages out of the car.” The blond one says in a calming voice, gently grabbing your hand and guiding it away from your wound.

“Sooo you’re the girl Yuji always talks about?” the white haired men asks and tilts his head to the right, the index finger of his left hand tapping against his chin.

“Uhm.. I guess? He’s my best friend…so..” you mumble. How is he having such a normal conversation with you, when Yuji and the others are fighting this thing just a few meters away?!

“Huh… haven’t thought he’d be able to have such pretty friends.” The male mumbles.

“Excuse me?!” Your head snaps towards him and you glare at his covered eyes. “SHOULDNT YOU BE HELPING THEM?!” You gesture over to the three.

“Nahhh - they can handle it - but they are taking way too long - I was really lacking on training them.” He sighs and shakes his head.

You watch as the white haired man standing next to Yuji opens his zipper and says something- suddenly the monster collapses.

“About time.” The calming voice of the blond haired man echos through the now quiet campus.

“Here sit down.” He points to a bank and helps you sit down.

Carefully he cuts off the ripped leg of your jeans and gently places a tissue on your leg, trying to clean it up.

“Okay, I’m sorry if this hurts now, but I got to make sure that it won’t get infected.” He says and puts something to sanitize your wounds on the tissue.

“Y/N!!!!” Yuji screams and runs over to you.

“Yuj- AHHHHH” You head looks over to the blond male.

“Sorry.” He mumbles.

“Y/n. I’m so sorry I’m so so sorry!!” Yuji sits down next to you and takes one of your hands on his.

“It’s not your fault.” You smile gently at him, trying to ignore the pain.

“How did you know that I was in danger?” You ask and look around.

“We heard from many sources that basically everyone was looking for a girl named ‘Y/n.’ - Yuji quickly figured out that it was you they were looking for. “ the blond says and wraps a bandage around your leg.

“Now we want to know why.” The white man says and towers over you.

“How should I know. I don’t even know what this thing was- neither do I know what you are??” You start rambling. The shock finally leaves your body and the realization hits you. “WHAT WAS THIS MONSTER ?!” You screech.

“Hey, it was not as gorgeous as I am, but we’re not monsters.” A deep voice comes from Yuji. Confused you look towards him.

“Shut up!” Yuji says and slaps a hand over his cheek. But then a mouth appears on the back of his hand.

“WHAT THE FUCK!” You scream and jump up, almost kicking the blond male who was still holding your leg.

“I CAN EXPLAIN!!” Yuji panics, “SUKUNA SHUT UP AND LEAVE US ALONE.”

“IS THIS WHY YOU COULDN’T TELL ME WHATS UP WITH YOU?!”

“Yes …” he looks down, “It was all… well … difficult to explain to you so I just chose not to.” He looks up at you with his puppy eyes and you sigh. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

“I hate you.” You sit down again and lean against his shoulder. Putting an arm around you he leans his head on yours.

“I know … I know.”

“Okay cool- but again. What do they want from you?” The black haired guy says and his piercing green eyes seem to try to read your mind.

“I - I don’t know. I haven’t known about all of this until now.”

“Tuna, rice.” The white hair male, who now has the zipper up again, says.

“Agreed … she at least was able to see the curse.” The other white haired male says.

Your face should clearly show the confusion, but it seems as if everyone just ignores it.

“Did anything happened the past weeks? … anything strange?” The blond one asks and stands up, adjusting his glasses.

“No… not really… my boss acted strange yesterday - well he always does - when he gave me some packet to personally give to someone.”

“What packet? How big was it?” The black haired asks.

“Uhhh I thought there was some expensive watch in." You look around confused. Everyone looks over to Yuji.

“Why? What’s wrong?” You look around.

“Who did you give the packet to?” Yuji asks.

“No one actually… The male wasn’t there, so I took it with me - I planned on giving it back to him tomorrow.” You stutter.

“Who’s your boss?” The white haired one asks.

“Naoya Zenin - I got an internship being his secretary.”

Everyone stares at you now.

“You’re coming with us.” The white haired one grabs your hand.

“Nanami - you and Yuji go to her home! Find that packet - if it’s still there.” He looks over to the blond male, before addressing you again. “Anything else you heard or saw before he gave you this packet?”

“Uhm… I overheard him talking to a man… “ you stutter and he grabs your hand, dragging you with him.

“With who? What did they say?”

“I - I don’t know…” you whisper.

“Then REMEMBER!” He says in a harsh tone.

“I DONT KNOW - HE LOOKED STRANGE …” you scream, annoyed the way he dragged you with him.

“Well until you know, you be staying with us.”

TAGLIST (open): @laceymorganwrites

[chicknparm]

1. "Stay here tonight." + 31. "Calm down." Chaseprice

Uhhhhhh went a bit overboard with this one...it’s quite long and there’s some big big CWs for sex, alcohol, and mentions of abuse and suicide. Only felt right for the first Chaseprice scene I write to be extremely dark and angsty. Also gotta give credit to @chaseprice as the preeminent scholar in this field for letting me bounce ideas off of her and graciously editing.

“There...now get your hands off me.” Chloe says as she pushes Victoria’s arm away from her. 

“Well that’s a new one,” Victoria scoffs back, catching her breath. “Not in the mood to whine about being held this time?”

“Shut the fuck up.” Chloe says coldly.

Victoria watches her walk over to the mini fridge she keeps under the desk. Chloe reaches inside the freezer compartment and pulls out the bottle of Vodka that permanently occupies it. She unscrews the cap and takes a large swig, furrowing her face as she does so.

“What the fuck is your problem, Price? Do you have any idea how expensive Grey Goose is in this dump? Put that shit back right now.” She scolds. Chloe turns back at her.

“What are you going to do about it.” Chloe says, monotone and disinterested.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now? You of all people can’t pull this tough guy shit. What do you think I’m going to want to put you in your place and pounce on you or something? That’s not how this works, you’re not worth my energy. You come over, I cum, you cry, you leave. That’s how this works.”

“You think I want you to touch me right now?” Chloe says, raising her eyebrows. 

Clearly Chloe isn’t expecting, or doesn’t care to listen to, an answer, as she takes another large swig of Victoria’s Vodka and sets it down, still uncapped, on her desk. She grabs her tank top that was tossed over a chair and nonchalantly puts it on. Usually during this stage Victoria can’t help herself but to sneak a couple more glances at Chloe’s chest, but it’s becoming clear this isn’t some ploy to keep her turned on.

Chloe is always moody after sex, but not like this. Normally, she just has a breakdown and embarrasses herself with a flood of tears, and the words never cross either of their lips, but it’s understood who and what she’s crying over. Victoria likes it when Chloe is aggressive, a little angry, that’s kind of the whole deal, but this is different. 

“I think you want someone to touch you.” Victoria says with a cruel smirk, having found her angle.

“Who?”

“Wow, you really are a masochist huh?” Victoria smugly looks at Chloe, if Chloe wants to play with fire let her get burned. “ Rachel. Rachel Amber. Your fucking angel dream girl whatever the fuck. You know, the one who left? The one who disappeared without a word?”

“Yeah. I do. You do too though.” Chloe grabs the vodka again and takes another swig.

“You’re going to be so fucking trashed, Price, you already stank of cheap beer when you got here. If you throw up in my dorm I’ll make sure you never step foot on this campus again. But, anyway, what the fuck are you getting at?”

“You wish she was here too. You miss her touching you too.” Chloe says, starting to raise her voice. Several shots worth of vodka seem to be catching up to her now. “Whole fucking school knows you two hooked up. Whole school knows what you are, Vic.”

“You’re such a cunt.” Victoria bites back. She shouldn’t lose her cool though, she can’t give up control like that. “Well if you know that, then I guess you should also know that she fucks better than you do.”

“I know exactly how she fucks. You think I care about your stupid fuckin, fuckin dick measuring contest?” Chloe sloppily screws the cap back on the Vodka and slams it back into the freezer. She starts fumbling with her pockets. “Where’d I put my keys.”

“No,” Victoria says, much more softly than she intended, “go walk home, you’re not driving anywhere like this except headfirst into traffic.” 

“Put some clothes on, you’re embarrassing yourself.” Chloe says, continuing her search.

Victoria hadn’t even thought about the fact that she was still naked. Duly embarrassed, she grabs some shorts and a tank top of her own as nonchalantly as she can so as not to give Chloe any satisfaction. Vic looks over and sees her still searching around the dorm room, illuminated only by the moonlight through her window. 

Victoria doesn’t care about her. She’s just a sex toy, a dirty one at that, but this still doesn’t feel right.

“Knock it off, Price, seriously, go catch a bus with the rest of the drunks.”

“What the fuck do you care?! Stop acting like you give a shit!” Chloe finally snaps.

This is also new. The way Chloe is looking over at her, looking down at her, is different from all the times she’s hate-fucked her. Usually all it takes is some comments about her being poor, being pathetic, being lonely, that get her to hold Victoria down and be rough with her, just as she likes it. But there’s not an ounce of lust in her eyes tonight. Not an ounce of desire, just hate. Can’t be far from breaking her now. 

“I don’t. Go get turned to paste like your dad for all I care.”

That does the trick. Chloe stomps her way over to Victoria’s bed and screams in her face. “Don’t you ever fucking say a word about him!” She grabs Victoria by the chin, with more force than she’s ever touched her before. “Not one fucking word!”

Victoria doesn’t flinch. She barely blinks. She doesn’t know how to react. Chloe lets go of her face and steps away, her own mouth agape in shock.

“I-I…” Chloe starts, but falls to her knees and starts to sob.

“Calm down…” Victoria tries to maintain her detached tone but it’s not working. Chloe has never snapped like this. Never even come close to getting physical (in a way Victoria didn’t explicitly want). But she’s never hit Chloe below the belt the way she did just now either. Victoria obviously wanted a reaction, but she didn’t want this. Or, maybe she did want it, and what does that say about her? After what happened last semester she’d been trying to save that extra level of cruelty only for herself. But Chloe’s always been the exception. And now she’s seeing the result.

“Price, you’ve gotta...come on just…” Victoria stumbles over her words as Chloe continues to sob on the floor, “Chloe. Don’t do this.”

“I’m a fucking monster!” Chloe cries into her hands.

“You’re not, no, you’re not a monster. You’re a lot of things, but you’re not a monster.” Victoria’s voice is softening, almost against her will. Used to be Victoria could make girls cry without a second thought. Or if she did feel a pang of guilt, she could always drown those feelings later, but this situation is on the verge of danger.

“I am! Get drunk, come over here and hit you, I’m like him...I’m like him and, him and your dad.” Chloe says wiping her face on her arm.

“No. You’re not my dad, and you’re not your step-dad either. They’re the monsters. Neither of them feel anything when they hurt people.”

“I gotta fuckin...gotta…” Chloe slurs, trailing off at the end as she looks across the room and gets up from the floor. She walks over to Victoria’s closet and grabs her jacket from the handle. She fumbles with the pockets but Victoria can hear the jangling of a keychain inside.

“Chloe, no, don’t do this.” Victoria panics, grabbing Chloe by the arm. “Please. Don’t do this, I don’t want you to go out there and kill yourself.” She says through tears of her own.

“Well why didn’t you say that to fuckin Kate Marsh! She didn’t do, fucking anything to you! I deserve this, she didn’t.” Chloe says, looking away from Victoria.

Victoria’s grip tightens on Chloe’s arm. She’s right. Kate didn’t do anything to her. And she kept pushing that girl, and pushing her and pushing her, and now she’s dead. 

“No. Chloe, neither of you deserve to fucking die and I can’t let another person do this. Please, stay here tonight.”

Chloe finally looks at her. A mix of fear, anger, and self-loathing shine through her watery eyes in the moonlight. Victoria never saw Kate this close, but she wonders how many times she had that same look in her eyes. Chloe looks at the ground again and pulls to move away from Victoria, but Victoria doesn’t let go. Chloe tries taking a step forward, maybe thinking she could drag Victoria with her, but she loses her balance and falls to the floor. Victoria still holds onto her arm and kneels down next to Chloe, once again sobbing into the floor. Victoria lets out a sigh and finally lets herself feel just how much she’s been shaking. She will have to push Chloe out of the door as soon as she wakes up. 

Just because Victoria doesn’t have any love for Chloe doesn’t mean she wants to see her dead. Every other night from here on out she’ll be her own problem, but at least she’s safe. For now. Victoria reaches over and pulls a pillow and quilt off of her couch, properly setting Chloe up for the night. She’ll have to get up to get her a bucket soon, just in case. It’s a while before she lets go of her arm.

[daily-dose-of-imagines]

ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴍᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴀᴘʜʀᴏᴅɪᴛᴇ | ᴋᴜʀᴏᴏ ᴛᴇᴛꜱᴜʀᴏ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | 𝘏𝘢𝘪𝘬𝘺𝘶𝘶!! NSFW One-Shot

So-- uh can y’all tell I’ve been on tiktok? SKSKSKKS This is inspired by many things, mainly Yagami Yato--- but many things have come together to the point this happened so-- uh--- enjoy? SKSKSK and yes, he be in college in this fic--

TW: Dirty Talk ; Man-handling ; Eating reader out--; The amount of teasing man ; Chibi-chan--- askjifhaieg

» » Admin Ko

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Chibiii-chan~.”

A shiver ran down her spine at the sudden intrusion of personal space. Despite the mocking tone he held, the playful and joyous look on Kuroo’s face set her heart at ease as she gently elbowed the taller man. A coy roll of her eyes as she took a shifted away from the other as she went back to her assignment.

“Ah! Why do you hurt me so? You’ve been stuck on that assignment for the past couple of days now, babe~.”

The whine that came out of his throat had her chuckling lightly as she paused briefly to give him an exasperated look. It was true, as the finals for the first semester began to roll by, the amount of work and assignments that were given had increased tenfold. Thus diminishing her time with her mischievous boyfriend of 2 years. 

“Unlike someone I know, I actually took more classes than the norm. So sorry that I can’t give my apparently, touch starved cat affection.”

It was meant to be a tease-- more like a prod at his ego and feline tendencies. Though that thought backtracked the moment he pressed his chest against her back. His arms caging her to the desk as he slowly leaned down to nip at her earlobe.

“But what about your kitty, Chibi-chan~?” 

“W-What? Tetsu!” 

A scandalous gasp came from her as she turned once again to shove him off of her. Yet, before she could even completely shove him away, her wrists had been grabbed by his larger hand. 

“Looks like I caught ya, Chibii-chan~.”

Despite the mocking tone in his voice, the lustful growl that laced itself within his words had her tremble and chew her lower lip as she gave him another glare. She knew that despite his dorky and quirky self, the confidence and sly emotions that interlaced into her boyfriend’s personality had practically exploded the moment he became a college student. (Much more so after feeling exponentially confident in himself.) 

“Tetsu, let go. I really need to finish this assignment.”

The edge in her voice had him chuckle as he leaned forward, his free arm now lifting her up with ease as he held her close to his chest. The other hand that held both of her wrists pulled them towards his awaiting lips. A mischievous grin now plastered on his face as he slowly kissed and nipped at her fingers. Slow and sensual, her cheeks couldn’t help but darken as he met her gaze. Dark lustful honey brown eyes practically boring deep into her own (e/c) eyes before he suddenly spun.

The movement eliciting a sharp gasp from her as her back met the plush mattress. The sheets now strewn about beneath her as he caged her in. His eyes roaming over her form before he dipped down to capture her lips in a slow and desperate kiss as his tongue began to prod and tease at her lower lip, practically prying for entrance into her mouth to get a sweet taste of her. 

“Fuck....you taste so good Chibi-chan...so addicting...”

The raspy voice that left his throat had her shivering as she felt her body begin to succumb to her own hormones. A subtle shift and before she knew it her legs were pried apart by his thigh. The muscle beneath her had her shivering as she couldn’t help but appreciate all the definition and build her boyfriend had after joining the university’s volleyball team. 

To say the least, the sight was absolutely delectable; and as if sensing her thoughts he leaned over to once again nip at her ear as he kept her wrists pinned above her head. His thigh now pressing up against her clothed entrance before slowly rubbing against her as a wanton moan left her lips.

“Look at you...always looking so adorable for me Chibi-chan...absolutely stunning... your cute little expressions... those noises... it makes me not want to hold back.” 

The words had her whine softly as she craned her neck up to look at his coy expression. A playful glint in his eyes before he began to tug at her clothes, slowly pulling off the minimal amount of clothing she wore as his fingers then replaced the heat of his thigh as he couldn’t help but let out a low whistle.

“My, my...look at how utterly soaked you are baby...I haven’t even gotten a chance to touch you that much and you’re this wet? Does my voice do that to you, Chibi-chan~?”

Again, another whine came from her, much more from embarrassment as he continued to compliment and tease her, though of course she wasn’t able to hide her flustered and subtly teary expression as he began to rub and tease at her clit. The motion jerking her body towards his as she balled her fists up from the teasing pleasure he gave her. 

“F-Fuck...Tetsu... you t-tease...” 

Breathless and subtly angered, she couldn’t help but weakly glare at him as his own grin widened as he watched her. His eyes hooded as he basked in the sight before him.

“Can’t say I don’t love seeing you like this... a mess, whining and crying out for me.” 

His mocking and teasing tone had her grit her teeth as she desperately tried to push herself down against his fingers; only to fail as he slowly pulled back. Another gasp and whine was pried from her lips as she tightly clenched her eyes shut at the loss of motion before she felt the weight on her wrists disappear.

Quickly opening them, she found that the warm presence that was above her was now much more lower. Utterly embarrassed to see where the fluff of messy black bedhead went, she found that instead of hovering over her, the messy bedhead was at her thighs. 

“T-Tetsu? What are you---AH~! F-Fuck!”

A sharp cry came from her as she felt soft lips and a teasing bite to her inner thighs. Heavy and calloused hands firmly gripped down on her hips before splaying her legs open as he slowly brought his gaze up to look at her as he began to leave hickeys and love bites along her thighs. The mischief in his eyes practically glowed with the reactions she gave him as he slowly trailed his lips closer and closer to her throbbing entrance. 

His breath fanning against her fold briefly before he slowly blew warm air against her, eliciting a cry as her hands found purchase against the sheets, desperate to grab something for the moment as she could feel his tongue outline her folds. Digging and prodding her, mapping out everything inside and outside of her as he practically buried his face into her, forcing his tongue as far as it could go inside of her as he indulged in the sweet sounds she made as he teased her.

The warm pink muscle working to find the sweet little spots that made her gasp in just the right way, and just as he reached the perfect spot, he felt her hands grasp at his hair as he let out a grunt from the rough tug she gave him. Though of course this didn’t deter him, rather it egged him on.

Just as she thought she was going to cum from his tongue alone, he pulled back. A gasp and desperate moan escaping her lips as she gave him a pleading look as he gave her a wicked look, he leaned over to the side to grasp a condom, slowly ripping the foil open and working the rubber over his cock. Making sure she was watching the entire time as he gave her a teasing grin before he caged her once more. His arms resting on either side of her head before he leaned down.

“Wanna taste of yourself, Chibi-chan~? Aren’t ya curious about how you taste when I’m the one who makes you this wet?”

Without even thinking, she leaned forward, mashing her lips against his own as she could taste the intoxicating taste of Kuroo and her own juices on his tongue. The thought of being only his sending her on edge, and his comments hadn’t really helped as he practically had pulled her up close against him. His hard erection rubbing and pressing against her aching folds as she began to grind against him to the best of her abilities.

“Impatient as always, aren’t ya? Can’t say I don’t fucking love it though....just wait Chibi-chan...I’ll fuck you nice and good okay~?”

As much as she wanted to say, nothing came out except desperate pleads and broken words as her fingers worked their way into his hair as his own hands found a hold on her waist, and the other into her hair as he gave an experimental tug as her head was suddenly pulled back. The canvas of her neck now exposed to him as he gave a pleased moan.

“Listen here Chibi-chan~... I’m gonna fuck you real good...and I’m gonna leave you some nice lovely marks so you can show the whole world..mmkay~?”

Before she could even retaliate, his cock slowly began to prod and push into her. His movements slow and taunting as his lips mimicked the teasing setting. Light yet sensual kisses beginning to litter her neck, and as he began to pick up his pace, the more the sensual light kisses became rougher and possessive. 

Eventually, she found herself screaming his name as her fingers roughly tugged at his hair as he pounded deep into her, savoring her sounds as he continued to kiss and suck at her neck, though that became messy in it’s own right as he felt his gut coil with heat as he let out more moans and groans against her neck. Their panting filled the room as broken words and the slur of pleads bleed throughout the air. 

Suddenly, a spark and a shock of blinding pleasure overwhelmed them both as she came. Her walls tightly clenching around him as he cursed before cumming himself as he tightened his grip on her. Now spent, he slowly pulled out of her, wincing at the sound before laying himself next to her as she curled up against his chest.

“....I fucking hate you sometimes Tetsu...”

Despite the comment, her actions told otherwise as she pecked his cheek, his dorky smile on his face as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Can’t help myself if my little Chibi-chan is overworking herself and needs some...stress relief~.” 

Another roll of her eyes and she felt sleep slowly succumb her as she let out a slow sigh. 

“Love you, asshole...”

“Love you too, my Chibi-chan~.” 

[thetomorrowshow]

Slower Than Words Ch. 20

First  -  Previous  -  Next

Been a busy week! I’ll let you know if I need to slow down updates! So how about we visit Virgil, see what’s up with him?

cw: a n g s t, panic attack

~

Virgil couldn't move. Roman had helped him into bed, then sat in the room for a while, trying to talk to him. When Virgil didn't respond, he eventually left, stating that he would be back later.

His world was crashing down around him.

Could he believe that just yesterday, he'd smiled? He'd laughed? Now it was all background noise, mindless buzzing that felt totally inconsequential. There was only one thing that mattered now. Patton.

Therapy had been rough, and Virgil had expected it to be. What he hadn't expected was to go over every meaningful interaction he had with Patton. The doctor had said she was “doing some tests”, so Virgil struggled to keep himself together as he talked about the one person he missed most in the world.

Then, she'd had the audacity—she'd dared to—

Virgil took a deep breath, blood boiling as he remembered that it was she who encouraged these breathing exercises. What if he didn't want to calm down? He deserved to feel, remember, Patton needed him to—

Virgil's legs started quaking, but he paid it no mind. He could not be wrong, admitting he was wrong would be abandoning Patton, he couldn't do that, he wasn't dead, he wasn't gone, he'd always been there and always would.

His breathing quickened, coming in short, shallow breaths. His entire body was shaking, and Virgil nearly puked when he realized he could smell rubbing alcohol. He hadn't had a flashback all week, he'd been doing so well!

As if summoned, there were gentle fingers on his wrist. Calm, the fingers traced. It's okay. I'm here.

“Patton,” Virgil croaked. “I—I knew it, you're here, you're here, I knew it—”

V breathe slow. Safe.

Virgil got his breathing under control after a dozen rounds of exercises. His legs were still quivering, but he knew where he was. He was in his room, in Roman's house, and he was going to be okay, and Patton—

Virgil choked.

His own hand gripped his wrist. His own hand was tracing soothing words.

“She was right,” Virgil whispered. His mind frantically grasped at straws, trying to explain what had just happened, as Virgil felt an overwhelming amount of despair.

“Virgil, you talk a lot about Patton. In every instance you told me about, however, you never hear him. You can't see him. Based on your time alone at the beginning of your imprisonment, it seems unlikely that they would suddenly decide to move you into a room with another person.”

Virgil's body had been completely out of energy, lax and unable to move, but now he was stiff as a board, locked in place. It couldn't be. It couldn't.

“We haven't been able to find out what that book was, based on your description of it.”

No. No no no no no.

“And I've seen you trace words onto yourself, in times when you need comfort. An interesting coping habit, one that might appear when a person is locked in a room with no outside stimulation.”

Virgil sobbed, full on weeping as his body couldn't move. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be real.

And that was exactly the problem, wasn't it?

“Virgil, I think Patton may have been a hallucination that your brain fabricated in order to keep you comfort during the year that you were alone. I may be wrong, but everything you've told me about Patton points to it. Virgil, can you be absolutely certain that Patton was real?”

He'd said yes, he'd said that there was no other option. He'd stormed out of the office five minutes later. He'd refused to talk to Roman in the car. He'd gone straight to his room and curled up on top of his blankets.

Patton had to be real, didn't he? He couldn't have made up a person so complex, so loving, so wonderful. And, more realistically, he couldn't have created something so solid it had washed his clothes on days he felt too ill. Unless he'd imagined it. Anything was possible if it came from his head, wasn't it?

One part of him was screaming, begging him to not abandon his best friend. The other part of him was mourning the loss of Patton. Virgil wasn't sure what to do, torn this way. He had to be real. He was real—but was he? Where was the evidence?

The world was crumbling. Virgil choked on his tears, crying for Patton, crying for himself, crying for the loss he'd just suffered. Patton wasn't real, Patton had to be real, Patton couldn't be real.

Roman knocked on the door, asking cautiously if Virgil wanted to come down for dinner. Virgil pretended to not hear him, feigned sleep when Roman opened the door to look in. He buried his eyes in his pillow as he heard the door quietly shut, then Roman's footsteps retreating. He was alone, isolated, and the one person he'd truly loved had probably never even existed.

What was Virgil supposed to do?

-

“Dude, what does it say?”

A long silence. Virgil groaned. Apparently he'd gotten an email as well as a letter, but Roman had insisted on reading it to him. Screen-readers were 'too impersonal' now. It wasn't like he was going to get his information any other way.

“Virgil, I . . . I'm sorry.”

Virgil's heart dropped. Roman sounded lost for words, his voice cracking in the middle of the sentence. There was no way whatever the letter said was good news.

“You . . . you got in!”

In a shot of adrenaline, Virgil smacked him. Probably on the arm.

“Ow! That was my face, you heathen!”

Oops.

“Roman! Don't—why—” Virgil could barely speak. He'd gotten in? He was certain he wouldn't get in the first time, let alone twice . He got in!

“It's my job, as your adopted older brother!” Roman said, the false hurt completely gone from his tone. “I have to bully you a bit! You should've seen the look on your face, it was priceless!”

Virgil frowned, his heart still racing. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it a bit. “I'm . . . older than you?”

“Doesn't matter! I am, by proxy, older!”

Virgil snorted. “That makes no sense, dude.”

“Doesn't have to!” Roman proclaimed. Virgil could practically see him doing some dramatic arm thing. “I'm the older brother, and therefore, I don't have to make sense!”

Virgil tilted his head back in an approximation of rolling his eyes. According to Roman, it looked pretty creepy when he actually rolled his eyes, and it stung a little. Still, he would probably roll his eyes once he was around people who weren't Roman's parents.

He was really going back.

He sniffed, his nose burning. It had been so, so long. Had the campus changed? Would he be in a different dorm? Would he and Roman still share, since they were in different grades now?

He knew everything about their accessibility and whatever, about how they would accommodate disabled people. The school had actually reached out to him, informing him that he could finish his degree no problem, they had four or five visually impaired students already and could easily make it possible for him to continue his education. Virgil had been in contact with various foundations in order to work things out with his university, and he'd gotten a few scholarships—not to mention, the handful of scholarships he'd already had had gladly reinstated themselves. In fact, Virgil had pretty much already known that he'd be going back. There'd been very little room to doubt, as his therapist had told him several times.

This was real, though. Right there, in Roman's hands, was proof. He was allowed back, and would see teachers and classmates he hadn't seen in over a year. He was starting spring semester, which was still a few months away—Roman, despite his protests, had also put off starting his junior year until spring semester.

“Virge? Are . . . you okay?”

Virgil sniffed again, wiping his cheek to find a few tears there. “Yeah, I'm fine,” he said, with an attempt at a laugh. “I just . . . didn't think this would ever happen, y'know?”

Roman also laughed, albeit much more nervously. “With the way admissions was basically begging you to come back? Of course it happened!”

Neither of them acknowledged what Virgil really meant.

“So, packing?” Roman said, after several seconds of silence. “I know it's a while away, but is there anything specific you want to bring?”

With a pang, Virgil thought back to his hand-stitched hoodie. Hopefully it was bringing Patton as much comfort as it had always brought him. He'd had it for years, made it in Home Ec in high school. Until recently, he'd never been without it. It was bittersweet, in a way. Sure, it was gone, but it was with Patton. Like . . . like a piece of his heart would always be with Patton.

Virgil shook himself. That's stupid. And cheesy, he told himself. Grow up. Move on. He doesn't exist.

There was an ASL club on campus, one that Virgil planned on becoming a part of. Roman wanted to as well, making up something about having always wanted to learn sign, but Virgil knew it was just protectiveness. Virgil was pretty sure Roman had been about to rearrange his entire schedule so that they could have the same classes, despite the fact that Roman was a year ahead and in a different program of study. After a long evening of Virgil sitting in his room anxiously while Roman talked to his parents in the living room downstairs, Roman had come to the conclusion that it was best for him to continue with his intended major. Virgil was relieved—he was a grown adult, after all. He didn't really want someone trailing after him everywhere, insisting on helping him with every little thing.

Did he?

“Am I ready for this?” he wondered aloud. Roman gripped his shoulder tightly.

“I think so.” The words were soft, but no less powerful than Roman's usual loud tone. “You're so strong, Virgil. You're the strongest person I know.”

Virgil couldn't help but cringe. He knew someone much stronger. Whether that person was real or not was up for debate.

His most recent therapy sessions had involved a lot of tears, but Virgil had agreed to acknowledge that Patton might not exist. In turn, the doctor agreed to not make a formal assessment on Patton for the time being. It was still devastating, of course. It was still as if his entire world was falling apart. But Virgil was finding it easier to smile, more natural to joke with Roman.

He was healing.

Did he want to heal?

Yes, of course Virgil wanted to heal. He wanted to move on. He wanted to lead a normal life, without hurt and flashbacks and hallucinations.

But not without Patton.

There was a fork in the road approaching, Virgil was sure of it. He was going to have to choose between waiting for, hoping for Patton, and moving on. He wasn't sure what would happen when he reached that point.

But it scared him that he would have to make that decision alone.

~

Taglist (let me know if you want to be added/removed): @enragedbees @gotta-love-alejandra @bunny222 @basiic-emo @patt0n-sanders @rosiepupper @fangirlgeekandfreak @dn-fan21 @that2000skid @remy-the-lemon-berry @itsadastraperaspera @xionbean @sanderssides-angst @hell-yea-we-gay-tonight @maybedefinitely404 @broken-pencils @thewhimsicallibrarytech @doomllily @hereissananxiousmess @judyismydog  @arodynamic-enby @at-that-one-nerd @therapysides

[makaylajadewrites]

Part 9: Demons

Hi everyone, welcome back to the Bria Monique series! It's been quite some time since I've posted anything in this series, and although this is just a drabble/is kind of rough, I hope you enjoy!

Read on AO3 here

Summary: Spencer was not a stranger to having enemies. He had been dealing with them all his life and had them for as long as he could remember. Even as a child when he would walk down the street from his house to the bus stop a few blocks away, wearing his heavily scuffed Converse and old leather backpack that once belonged to his father, he was looked at like some kind of natural phenomenon. But the attention wasn’t always innocent and harmless, and he learned that the hard way through the ruthless bullying he suffered through his high school experience.

Tags: Hate speech, Homophobia, Potential transphobia, Bullying, Coming of Age

Word Count: 2665

-

Spencer was not a stranger to having enemies. He had been dealing with them all his life and had them for as long as he could remember. Even as a child when he would walk down the street from his house to the bus stop a few blocks away, wearing his heavily scuffed Converse and old leather backpack that once belonged to his father, he was looked at like some kind of natural phenomenon. The sensation of eyes on him was nothing new, because at first it had always been harmless, curious onlookers left confused and amazed at the sight of eight year old Spencer Reid, sitting in a Las Vegas public high school’s library soaking up the contents of a quantum physics textbook. But the attention wasn’t always innocent and harmless, and he learned that the hard way through the ruthless bullying he suffered through his high school experience.

To think that teenagers, some almost six years older than him, bullied him to feel a sense of power was sickening when he thought back on it, but he supposed it was a natural part of Darwin’s theory of evolution at play; survival of the fittest, and Spencer was far from the fittest. He was physically small at that age, as any ten year old would be, with knobby knees and too-small hands, but that only made him a primary target for bullies.

The goal post incidence would forever remain engrained in his memories, and even though it had been over ten years ago, Spencer would never forget the pain, humiliation, and shame he felt after that day. He had been so uncomfortable in his own skin, thinking things about himself that twelve year olds shouldn’t have to think. He didn’t like his body, and had come to hate it more and more as the years went by.

College should have been where the bullying ended, but it didn’t. Twelve - almost thirteen - year old Spencer trudged into his first ever class at Caltech with those same dirty Converse and his mother’s old peacoat since he was now tall enough to wear it without it going below his knees, and the looks were still the same. Some were harmless, others malicious; he told himself it was normal to be hated by those who didn’t understand him. He came to expect it, and at the tender age of fifteen, he began to realize another aspect of himself that would bring him hatred from others for the rest of his life.

Spencer was gay.

He didn’t know what exactly made him realize it. He had been sitting at the desk in his individual dorm room one day (since the university thought he was too young to dorm with another student) with an Abstract Algebra textbook open in front of him while he scratched out impossible equations in his notebook. And suddenly his hand seized movement, his eyes rose, and he looked out the window into the cool December air. A young man was walking across the street two stories below, with olive skin and unruly brown curls, and when he glanced up towards Spencer’s figure in the window. He smiled, and Spencer was breathless.

That was all it took. He had never thought about it much in the past, since he was so heavily caught up in his studies and more concerned with his education than anything else, but the minute those emerald eyes locked with his own, he was reminded of the fact that all human beings crave affection from someone, and in Spencer’s case, he just so happened to wish for it to be a man.

He was once again faced with self-deprecating thoughts, fearing the judgement that would certainly come his way should others know of his identity. He felt like he was constantly holding his breath whenever he went out in public, like he was one second away from screaming out to the world ‘I’m gay,’ just to get the pain and humiliation over with. He didn’t know much about gay culture, and as intelligent as he was, he didn’t know much about gay history either. So as well as doing research on his own, he took a course called Queer History the next semester. In that class, he met Ethan, and together, they explored their sexualities and Spencer had never been more sure of anything in his entire life. He was gay, and that was okay.

They drifted apart naturally, with no hard feelings or animosity, and even today, they remained friends, only contacting each other occasionally. Reid would sometimes pay his old friend a visit if the team ever traveled down to New Orleans, and seeing Ethan behind a piano always seemed to calm him. He was truly talented, and although many chastised him for wasting his intelligence in order to be a jazz musician, Reid couldn’t fault him in the slightest. He was doing what he loved, being who he loved, and that was all that mattered.

It wasn’t until Spencer met Derek that he began to think a little differently about himself. He had always had so many issues with his self esteem and the way he viewed his body, and even before their relationship turned into something more than a platonic friendship, Derek went out of his way to make Spencer feel better about himself. He called him ‘pretty boy,’ encouraged him to go on dates often, feigned jealousy regarding Spencer’s intelligence. When they became a couple, those efforts increased tenfold. Sometimes with no real reason he would compliment Spencer, throwing in pet names as a form of shared intimacy between them. They would make beautiful love together at night, writing poetry with their lips, composing symphonies with their joined bodies. He would wake up the next day in bed with Derek, and Derek would greet him with a deep voice that creeped over his skin like ivy, saying, “Good morning, beautiful.”

Over the years, those looks remained of course, but for the most part, he had learned to block it out, because he had proved time and time again, both to himself and others, that he was undeserving of needless judgements. He was fine the way he was, and while nobody was perfect, he had grown comfortable with himself. Of course he still had moments of doubt and he was still occasionally dysphoric of his body, appearance, personality, but Derek, ever the loving partner, would guide his thoughts in the other direction, and with gentle kisses and soft murmurs, Reid would feel better. Performing in drag definitely helped too, because a drag queen could not be a good performer if she wasn’t confident. But he lacked the confidence of Bria Monique in himself, and sometimes he wished he had merely an ounce of the confidence she possessed. But he was getting better, slowly but surely.

Which was why when he walked into the bullpen alongside Morgan on a seemingly normal morning, a sheer layer of lip gloss coating his lips and a dusting of pale pink blush over his high cheekbones, he nearly stumbled over himself when all eyes seemed to lock onto him. The whispers started, subtle in nature, but they pierced through his brain like a dagger, and not even Derek’s hand on the small of his back could erase the overwhelming sense of shame that swelled in the pit of his stomach. They knew. Word must have spread like wildfire, and it certainly didn’t help that most of the bureau followed along with the BAU’s cases, since they played out like a police procedural sometimes.

What bothered him the most though was that David Rossi stood just outside of his office, leaning over the railing and watching the scene play out like it was some sort of entertainment, a neutral, unreadable expression on his face. Spencer felt nauseous all of a sudden, and he couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so uncomfortable in his own skin. He pushed away from Derek, not with malice, but with the need to simply get away from prying eyes, and his closest refuge was the restroom just outside of the bullpen. He quickly found a stall and threw himself to the ground before that porcelain throne, dispelling the contents of his stomach into the bowl and feeling a sob force its way from his throat. He hardly even noticed Morgan who was there with him almost immediately after, holding his chestnut curls back with one hand and rubbing his back, just between his shoulder blades, with the other.

“It’s okay… You’re gonna be okay, baby,” Derek said softly to him, hating the sight of his lover crying so openly. “Let’s get you cleaned up… We can talk to Hotch about this, get it sorted out.” And while he knew that Derek was only trying to be reassuring, it still hurt like a bitch to become the focus of all of that negative attention once again. He didn’t say anything at first, reaching blindly for toilet paper which Derek was happy to supply him with before wiping his mouth and nose with it, using another piece for his eyes. Morgan managed to get him out of the stall and standing in front of the row of sinks, he was faced with his reflection, and he was disgusted with himself. He turned the water on, splashing it on his face and practically scrubbing the light makeup off of his face with his fingertips. He looked up slowly, catching the dark bags under his eyes and other imperfections on his face, and he broke down once again. People couldn’t accept him either way. Derek pulled him in, and Spencer melted into the embrace as sobs shook his shoulders.

“Do you want to go back home, Spencer?” Derek asked softly, pulling away to catch sight of Spencer’s tearful honey-brown eyes, and he gently cupped his cheek. His thumb caught a tear that was just beginning to fall past his bottom lashes, and with a sniffle, he shook his head. That would be like admitting weakness.

“N-No, I-I just… I just need a minute,” he murmured rather lamely, pulling away from Derek and pulling a few paper towels from the dispenser to dry his face and wipe away his tears. “Then we can… We can go talk to Hotch,” he said, his voice dropping in volume considerably when he said that, like it was embarrassing. It was, but it was what they should do. He felt uncomfortable, singled out, and while talk and gossip was bound to spread, he hadn’t expected it to be so obvious.

“Take your time, pretty boy. Deep breaths, okay?” Derek reminded him, rubbing a hand over his back yet again as Spencer leaned heavily against the edge of the skin, exhaling shakily and doing as Morgan said. He needed to calm down if he wanted to go out there again, but he wasn’t sure if he could ever face his colleagues the same way again. Eventually though, he managed to collect himself, and the two exited the bathroom and walked quickly to Hotch’s office, Spencer keeping his head bowed in shame the entire time while Derek escorted him with an arm around him the entire way.

Once inside, however, they weren’t expecting to see Rossi inside, sitting down in the seat in front of Aaron’s desk. The two seemed to be chatting amicably while Hotch filled out paperwork simultaneously, but both men raised their heads at the intrusion, and instantly, Hotch took notice of his youngest agent’s flushed face and swollen eyes. He said nothing though, giving either Spencer or Derek the opportunity to explain. Rossi looked on curiously, but he remained silent, paying special attention to the contact between the two men.

“Hotch, we’ve gotta talk, man,” Derek said simply as he closed the door behind them, “How did details of the case leak?”

Hotch was silent for a few moments, setting his pen down and sighing, “It was bound to happen, Morgan. It was getting a lot of attention from the media due to the social justice concerns that arose from it. We cannot control what the media does with the information they retrieve,” he said, folding his hands across his desk, “Nor can we control how others react to seeing such news.”

“So… what? You just want Reid to deal with it?” Morgan asked, narrowing his brows. Spencer stood awkwardly alongside him, glancing over at his partner since the anger was radiating from him in waves.

“What do you want me to do, Morgan?” Hotch asked, clearly a bit exacerbated, “I believe the bureau is considering a mandatory seminar regarding discrimination and harassment in the workplace, but I can’t force them to do it.”

“Of course,” Reid said then, nodding his head a bit sheepishly, “I-I understand…”

“It came across as quite a shock, kid. No offense,” Rossi said, truly sounding genuine but the way his dark eyes roved over him made Spencer feel incredibly vulnerable. “It was, ah… shocking, to say the least. You can’t be surprised that people reacted the way they did.”

“David,” Hotch said warningly, but Reid was already raising an eyebrow, his expression turning into one made of both confusion and surprise.

“What does that mean?” Reid asked slowly, and Rossi simply raised his hands in exasperation as if it were clearly obvious to everyone.

“Oh, Reid… You have to understand how strange it is. Men don’t belong in women’s clothes, it’s just unnatural!” He exclaimed, and Reid shrunk into himself a little bit as the volume rose in the small office. Hotch rose from his desk slowly, catching Reid’s panicked eyes.

“I don’t think you get to choose what type of clothing someone wears,” Reid said simply, “People can wear whatever types of clothes they want to. I don’t wear women’s clothing in my casual life but I’m quite familiar with women’s clothing due to my hobby, which is not unnatural and is completely harmless.”

“Reid…” Rossi started, shaking his head, but Reid wasn’t finished just yet.

“Maybe you should come to one of my shows sometime. Then you’ll see how unnatural it is for me to feel comfortable in my own body and enjoy myself. You have no idea how many straight men have tried to take me home. I bet even you wouldn’t be able to keep your eyes off of me, David,” he said smoothly with an air of confidence, huffing a bit and glaring sharply at Rossi, making direct eye contact, something he was not known to do. In fact, Hotch and Morgan shared a look of surprise, and even Rossi was left speechless. Derek had never seen his lover like that before, but he was swelling with pride at seeing Spencer defend himself. Reid didn’t feel an ounce of regret for anything he said, and was in fact quite satisfied with himself.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to fix my makeup,” he said with no hesitation, turning on his heel and leaving even Derek in the office as he returned to the bathroom to do just what he said. When he emerged, pink gloss glistening on his diamond lips and translucent blush shimmering on his cheeks, he walked to his desk with his head held high, and even as the whispers continued around him, he sat himself down and got to work, just like he always did. Derek watched him from his own desk and Spencer’s eyes lifted to meet his gaze. He didn’t have to be afraid of judgement anymore, and even if Rossi couldn’t accept him, he would always have someone.

“I love you,” Derek mouthed, and Spencer beamed, feeling more content with himself than he had in a long time.

“As you should,” Spencer said aloud in response, looking down at his work and not missing the guffaw of laughter that came from his lover.

He may always have demons, but he would always have Derek too.

<-Part 8: What a Woman

[teenage-inspiring-writer]

Bakugo x Reader: Ghost of You

Author’s Note: This story is something I came up with on the spot, I’m too lazy to re-read it so if there’s typos I’m sorry. (Also Todoroki x Reader in the works😏😉)

Warnings: Brief Mentions of Suicide, Angst, Fluff, Cursing, Death.

Quirk: Blood: You can manipulate blood cells, downside is that it must be your blood.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You both were still fairly early into your U.A years. It was the first semester of your second year, when it happened. The League of Villains had finally managed to over-throw U.A’s defenses. Leaving only the student to fight for their lives.

Class 2-A, You and Bakugo fought against several villains at once. Bakugo blasted the main villains with large explosions, accessing Midoriya and Todoroki. While you and the others concentrated on the smaller scale villains. Without realizing it, a villain grabbed a hold of you, stabbing a syringe deep into your neck. You’ve already lost a lot of blood using your own quirk trying to fight off the smaller scale villains. Before you can even detest the feeling of giving up, your body gives out. The world slowed as you began to collapse to the rough ground. You could hear Bakugo scream your name as you lose consciousness.

When you wake up, you expect to see the faces of your worn classmates. Though when you came too, all you saw was pitch black darkness. You panic. Screaming out for your boyfriend, anyone to come and save you from this eternal darkness. Then out of no where, a voice spoke. “Hi! You must be Y/n! Welcome.”you frantically look around for someone. “I’m down here” You quickly look down to see a little pixie starting at you. “Well are you going to let me up or not?” You quickly nod, lowering your hand down for her to step on. “Where are we?” “We’re in the border of this world and the next. You miss are on the brink of death.” I gasp shocked. “What-but I have to get back to bakug-“ The pixie interrupts me. “ Shh. I understand, trust me. Now I usually don’t do this but since you are so young, I will let you decide whether you want to move on to the afterlife or remain in the world of the living badly injured.” You’re about to respond until she places a small finger to your lips. “Aht before you answer, I will show you both outcomes. I know you once have thought about leaving this world, but that changed when you met the love of your life. Remember that he is affected by your choice.” You nod.

The pixie snaps her fingers and you are no longer in the darkness, instead in the U.A dorms. You notice Bakugo seated at the edge of the couch, hands lazily balanced on his knees in looks of defeat. You’re about to call out to him but again the pixie shh’s you. “He can not hear you. As I said this is an illusion, a possibility that could have if you so choose to leave this world.” You nod, watching the scene unfold. Kirishima and Kaminari walk-into the room from the kitchen, whispering to each other. “He’s been like this for days.” “Yeah Man I would say that it’s ridiculous but he loved her so much. She was his world.” Kaminari nodded with Kirishima. “She meant everything to him, she was his reason to live. The soft spot in his life, the person who was always there even when all he could do was yell. She understood him....they were soulmates.” The men glanced at Bakugo. “I know he’s suffering so much, but what are we to do? We can’t just tell him it’s going to be alright.” Kaminari pouted with a frown starring at Bakugo. “Shh Kirishima, look.” Kirishima turns his attention back to the slumped Bakugo. “DAMN IT ALL!” Is all he keeps shouting. This causes the rest of class 2-A to come out of their rooms. All of their faces fall when they see Bakugo screaming out his frustration. “WHY COULDN’T IT HAVE BEEN ME?! HMM WHY COULD SHE BE HERE WITH ME! WHY DID MY ANGEL LEAVE ME?! WHERE COULD I HAVE GONE WRONG HMM?” Bakugo starts to cry something he never did in front of everyone, but at this point he did care. He lost you. His angel sent from heaven. Midoriya and Iida come down the stairs in attempts to get bakugo to just calm down and rest. “Kacchan” is all Midoriya could say. He’s never seen his childhood friend so torn up. Bakugo contains himself and wipes his tears, then turns to face everyone in the class. “What do I do? Damn nerds what the heck am I supposed to do now? The women I love is gone. My future is gone. WHAT DO I DO NOW HUH?” All anyone can do is look sadly at him. It pains you to see him like this. So torn up and hurt just at the loss of you. You start to cry, choking back tears you ask the pixie to take you to the other illusion.

“As you wish.” She waves her hand, transporting you both to another place. This time the setting is in the hospital. You glance around, your eyes stumbling upon a figure in a hospital gown, IV’s shoved all into their arms. You float closer to see that this figure is you. Blood bags all around, some empty, some half full. Along side the blood bags was mountains of gifts, mostly get well soon cards and teddy bears, but one thing stood out to you. Dozens of bouquets of Y/f/f (your favorite flower). Little notes attached to them. The pixie begins to speak up. “If you choose to stay alive, you will be in a coma for a month, due to all of the blood transfusions you have received. You will survive, but physical therapy will be needed.” You nod. “Are these from Katsuki?” She nods. “He will drop on off everyday till you wake up. He misses you greatly, not a day goes by that you aren’t on his mind.” “Why are you telling me this? When most people die, they just move on to the other side.” She sighs. “Not always dear, some are trapped by what binds them to this world. My job is to help the souls move on, but sometimes I come across a youthful soul that just happened to get caught up in things that ended badly. You my dear or one of those people. I wanted you to know both outcomes, because that’s what most souls regret.” “Thank you, Miss Pixie. I made a decision. I choose to stay and live my like with Katsuki. I don’t care how much pain I’m in. If I get to see him again, it’s all worth it.” “Alright dear, off you go.” And with that you returned to the darkness with a feeling of hope instead of fear. You knew that this darkness would come to an end, and when you woke up, you’d see the man of your dreams.

Bonus:

After you wake up from your month long coma, and after doctors stabilized you, you were allowed visitors. The first one being Bakugo. He rushed into the room before the nurses could stop him. “Baby!” You’ve never seen him so expressive in public. He usually likes to keep your love to yourselves but times have changed. “Kat! I missed you so much.” “I missed you too dumbass. Don’t you ever scare me like that again, you hear me. Otherwise I’ll blow your ass to pieces, got me?” You simply nod, pulling him into a bone crushing hug, which he gladly accepts. You open your eyes to pull away from the embrace to see a blue glowing pixie, the same one from the darkness. She winks and smile then zooms off. ‘Thank you so much pixie for being me back to him.’

[bellemorte180]

Final Drabble

For @storm-pirate.

Drabbles request: vengeance on Damon (bonus points if Kol helps), Hope turns out to not be Klaus's kid, or Original Caroline? Dealer's choice, I hope I gave options that interest you! (and if you want to do more than one I will ABSOLUTELY not be upset!)

The signs were subtle. He didn’t really notice them at first because their relationship started out as just sex. Shortly after Caroline learned that Tyler had been unfaithful to her, their affair started. The night of the Miss Mystic Pageant, Klaus took her hard and fast in the downstairs bathroom of the Lockwood Manor for the first time. It wasn’t until graduation that their relationship took the next step and Caroline showed up at his home in New Orleans. She got a full scholarship to Tulane University and they had been together ever since.

It took a year into their relationship for him to notice them at all. The first was how she refused to use compulsion for anything outside of dire necessity. Klaus never thought much on it. He assumed it was because Caroline still clung to the human girl she once was. He assumed that as she aged and vampirism fully took root in her, she would outgrow that habit of hers. It was a part of her that he actually found enduring.

The second sign was how jumpy she became if he flashed over to her too quickly. She was always on alert and took notice of her surroundings; however, there were times when Klaus would scare her by coming upon her too quickly. She would jump, drop everything she was holding and scream. At first, Klaus found it amusing but he on occasion noticed the dark look in her eyes. Something bothered her at being taken unawares. Klaus made it a point to always announce his presence to her, just to avoid her terror.

The third one was a big flashing warning sign. Klaus and taken Caroline on a trip to Italy as a congratulations for completing her first semester in college. The trip was going well. Caroline was basking in the new country and loved every second of it. However, one night in the middle of a nightclub, Klaus and Caroline were getting hot and heavy. Klaus had Caroline pinned against the wall in a small dark corner of the club, ravishing her. Klaus was lost in the feel of her but froze the moment Caroline’s body stilled under him. She flashed away from him and in confusion, he tore after her. He found Caroline in a private bathroom of the club just in time to see her loose her carefully crafted control.

A man had a woman pinned to the bathroom floor and was forcing himself on her. The woman struggled against him, but he was not allowing her freedom. His hips kept thrusting into her while she screamed; her voice drowned out by the loud pulsing music of the club. Caroline’s monster prickled; her black veins appearing and her fangs descending. She gripped the man by this throat and ravaged it. His head was completely detached from his shoulders by the times she was done with him.

The monster had complete control of Caroline’s actions that she even savagely killed the girl; and if Klaus had not intervened, he was sure she would have slaughtered the entire nightclub. The bathroom looked like a horror movie scene; the walls were coated in blood and the dismembered bodies parts scattered across the tile. Klaus quickly flashed her out of the club before anyone noticed their presence and took her back to the villa he had rented for their trip. He put her in the shower, holding her as she cried; cradling her to his naked chest as she lost all sense of control. The walls she constructed around herself broke completely.

In that moment, Klaus knew that Caroline was not crying over the two people she killed that night. No. She was crying for herself.

He picked up on the signs more often after that. She hid them well, but Klaus had been around a long time and knew the signs. He suspected what happened to her and there was a fury burning in the pit of his stomach at the mere thought of someone hurting her in such a barbaric fashion. He said nothing, waiting for her to tell him. He kept his temper under control to the best of his ability; a feat that was far more difficult than he anticipated. However, it paid off in the end.

In was the night after her last final of her freshman year. They were laying together, tangled in sheets, sweat and bliss. Klaus had learned every curve of her body at that point. He knew every bump, divot and scar on her person. She had this scar located just below her left shoulder blade. It was large circle, that Klaus found odd the first time he saw it. At the time, he assumed a young human Caroline injured herself in some sort of fashion. Now, he knew better. He knew it was a bite mark because he studied the scar enough times when Caroline was sleeping.

Klaus traced the mark absentmindedly with the tips of his fingers. Caroline was resting in his arms; her breath grazing his bare chest. She froze lightly when he touched the scar; his fingers freezing when he felt her body stiffen.

“Don’t. Please.” Her voice was small, and her eyes shut tightly. The fear that etched on her face confirmed all of Klaus’s biggest fears. When her eyes opened, she could see the knowledge and understanding in his eyes. Klaus knew what had happened and Caroline felt ill at the thought. If he knew, it meant that it actually happened.

“Caroline. I want a name.” Klaus hissed out and she closed her eyes. He could see that she was weighing everything in her mind; going back and forth between whether or not she should confess or not. They both knew that the moment she uttered his name, his death warrant was signed. “Caroline.”

“Okay.” She whispered into his chest. She sat up in order to look in his eyes; pulling the sheet across her chest. Klaus had seen all of her, but she felt more vulnerable in that moment than she had in a very long time. She looked at Klaus and she could see the anger and calculation already working behind his eyes. Before her was the hybrid; the most fearsome creature in all of the supernatural world and he wanted vengeance; for her. “Damon. It was Damon.”

It all tumbled out at that point. She him how she felt insecure, and worthless. She met Damon at the right place at the wrong time. She took him home and compelled her; feeding from her with the promise of killing her. She detailed each and every time he bit her, harmed her and compelled her to have sex with him. She described how every time she felt him thrusting inside her, how she wanted to scream but couldn’t. She told him how she feared each moment for her life and then the confusion afterwards when Damon compelled the memories away.

She described the moment she became a vampire and how it felt to have all those memories rushing back to her at once. She recalled every detail during her transition, and it was as though she was reliving every moment he raped her all over again. There mere mention that Caroline felt as though she relived that torture a second time only made Klaus’s fury more pronounced. Caroline could see the anger in his eyes and feeling the soft strokes of his fingers only told her that Damon’s death was going to be a long one. Having distanced herself from Mystic Falls, Caroline found that she cared little.

Klaus crawled from their bed and grabbed his jeans that were tossed on the ground. He put them on, not sparing a glance at Caroline, and walked out of the room. He heard Caroline dash from the bed, dress and follow him. However, by the time she got to the dining room where he ended up, Klaus already at the table flipped and shattered it on the ground. He took the china cabinet and smashed it on the ground. He chucked a wooden chair against the wall, knocking down several priceless paintings; shattering their frames.

He howled in anger. The images his mind was coming up with was enough to torture him for the remainder of his eternity. Never before did he want someone delivered to him alive as much as he wanted to see Damon Salvatore bow before him. His death would be slow and painful. Even when Katerina betrayed him, he never felt such wrath for her.

Hunting Katerina would be nothing compared to what Klaus had in store for Damon.

“Klaus?” Caroline’s gentle voice pulled him from his destruction. He turned to see the young vampire he loved so much wearing nothing but his Henley. Her hair was tussled, and her lips bruised from his kisses. She seemed scared and worried; her eyes looking around the destruction of the dining room.

“Don’t Caroline. Do not try and talk me out of this. I will hunt him down and hand you his head. After a few centuries of torture of course.” Klaus replied, his teeth snarling at the thought. The black veins under his eyes appeared and his eyes glowed yellow; he looked as though he was burning from the inside out and Caroline could feel the fury rolling off of him. “I will see him dead.”

“I know.” Caroline reached up and touched his face, kissing his monster that had come out to play. “I know. I always knew that the moment you learned of it, you would hunt him down.” She whispered. “Please know the reason I took so long to tell you was not out of pity or concern for him or anyone else. It’s just something I still struggle to come to terms with.”

Klaus looked into her eyes, seeing the truth that lingered there. He leaned down and kissed her hard. Caroline put everything she had into that kiss, knowing that he was feeling the most heightened emotion that he was capable of having since she told him she loved him. In return, Caroline felt his own passion and love feeding right back to her.

“Well, don’t let me interrupt.” Kol’s voice sounded and the couple broke apart. His expression was one of humor as he took in the sight of the room. It was clear the path his mind traveled. He assumed that the room was destroyed due to a round of rough sex between the two of them; which was a fair assumption. However, the moment Kol noticed his brother’s expression of pure fury, his thoughts changed. “What happened? Who are we killing?”

“Sweetheart?” Caroline looked to Klaus and knew what he was doing. He was leaving the option of her keeping this to herself for a little while longer or to tell Kol. The choice was hers. Caroline turned to Kol and contemplated him. Over the past year, the two had a strange friendship that at one-point worried Klaus but he soon realized that Kol was like the little brother Caroline never had.

“Damon Salvatore.” Caroline whispered. “When I was human….” She looked down at her hands and took a deep breath. “When I was human, he compelled me, fed from me and raped me. Klaus just learned of it tonight.”

“I see.” Kol replied in a deathly calm. A stillness entered the room that was not there before; a deathly calm. “Should I get the baseball bat Nik? Or are thinking something more painful? The blow torches, maybe?”

“No.” Klaus replied. “Too easy.” Kol’s eyebrows shot up but waited for Klaus to reply. Kol was one who would just go to Mystic Falls, torture him and then kill him before anyone knew what had happed. Klaus, on the other hand, like to plot the demise of his enemies slowly. “Caroline, call Elena. Let her know that we are coming for her beloved. I want him to run.”

“Okay.”

“Kol, we are going hunting.” Kol’s smirk was sinister and vicious. “I have calls to make. I want the supernatural world to know that I’m out for blood and anyone who helps him or gets in my way, dies. No exceptions.” Klaus looked directly at Caroline, forewarning her. If Elena or even Stefan helped him in anyway, he would their heads and send it to Damon as a gift. Caroline nodded, dreading the conversation she was to have with Elena.

Damon was marked man. Klaus wanted him to run; to flee. He wanted to seek shelter just so he could burn every inch of the world around him down. The chase would last decades, if not centuries. In the end, Damon’s head would be on a spike symbolizing nothing more than a warning.

No one touches Caroline.

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Hair Dye | Michael Clifford

Warnings? None? Just fluffy Michael :)

Requested? Yes indeed! I hope you like it! 

Summary: Since everyone has been doing quarantine makeovers, you and Michael decide to join the fun and dye your hair together. However, it wouldn’t be a hair dyeing experience without a few hilarious mistakes along the way

Word Count: 1,894

You and Michael sit at home wrapped in each other’s arms for what felt like the millionth day of quarantine. Currently, you were laying on your back up against the couch as Michael laid on top of you, his head reaching your stomach and scrolling on his phone as you catch up on your favorite Netflix show that plays on the flatscreen of your living room. 

As you watch tv, your hands mindlessly rake through Michael’s hair and he hums quietly in response. Even though quarantine had been a bit rough on both of you, you were grateful to be able to spend it with the love of your life. Having Michael around was a godsend and what kept you going through the rest of your semester in college. 

“Did you see Kennedy’s new hair?” He asks, dropping his phone on your side and looking up at you. 

“She did like a galaxy color right? How does that girl manage that in a pandemic?” You ask and Michael laughs making your stomach move. 

“I need to dye my hair again, the fans would kill to see that.” He says and your eyes move to the faded strands of dyed hair on Michael's head. 

“I’ve been wanting to dye my hair for the summer,” 

You and Michael both give each other a look before silently agreeing that today’s activities would include still lounging around the house and probably dyeing each other’s hair. You had dyed your hair at home a couple of times before, with friends, and without parent permission so hopefully this wouldn’t turn out too bad. 

“Okay but do I have to get up right now?” Michael asks, tightening his hold around your stomach. “I’m so comfy.” 

“Oh get up you big baby,” you say and Michael ungracefully rolls off the couch and falls onto the ground causing laughter from the two of you. 

You stand from your position and reach a hand down to help him up which he takes. You help bring him to his feet and he pulls you forward and presses a kiss to your lips making you smile widely. He goes to pull away but you pull him in again for a longer kiss and when you break apart Michaels smirks at you. 

“Oh now who’s the one who doesn’t want to move?” He jokes and you roll your eyes.

“Shut up,” you say and he spins you around before lightly pushing you towards your shared bedroom so the two of you can finish getting ready and go to Target to get hair dye. 

Once you both have a decent outfit on, Michael grabs the keys to his car and you head out. As he drives to the closest Target, you discuss what color you each wanted to dye your hair. 

“I think I might just go blonde again,” Michael says and you look at him across the car. 

“Really?” 

“It’s easy and I don’t have to keep dyeing it. Why what color do you want me to do?” He asks, meeting your gaze where a smirk appears on your lips. 

“I don’t like that look,” he says, and you fake hurt. 

“How dare you,” you respond and Michael takes your hand and kisses it. 

“All love darling. What’s your idea?” 

“How about we pick out hair dye for each other?” You suggest and Michael smiles. 

“I love it.” 

With that idea set, the rest of the car ride is filled with you and Michael singing along to whatever comes up on your shared playlist. You were beyond excited considering you haven’t dyed your hair in ages and it would be one of the last times you would before you had to go back to school and do internships and fieldwork again. 

When you get to Target, you both pull on your masks you keep in Michaels car and step out. As you walk, you pull out your phone and open Snapchat. You pan the camera over to Michael and start talking. 

“Michael darling what are we doing today?” You ask and he turns to see you filming him. 

“That is a secret, my love,” he jokes and runs back towards you and you stop filming just as he reaches you and wraps his arms around your stomach to pick you up and spin you around. 

When he sets you down he takes your hand in his and intertwines it effortlessly as you head into the store. You head straight for the hair dye and you immediately know exactly what color to pick for Michael. You grab some bleach and red hair dye and hide it behind your back as you turn towards Michael and wait as he picks out his color for you. 

“If you give me a mean color I’m not talking to you for two weeks,” you say as you head towards self-checkout. 

“What in the world is a mean color?” 

“Probably orange or green or something. I could never look good in those colors.” 

“Darling you look good in everything,” He says and behind the mask you beam widely at your boyfriend. 

After checking out, you head back out to Michael's car and home where the dyeing process would start. You once again pull out your phone to open Snapchat and take a picture of Michael with your two target bags to caption it “Any guesses?” 

“Okay, do you want me to dye your hair first or mine first?” You ask after setting your phone down and heading into your shared master bathroom where Michael has all the hair dye set up. 

“I’ll do yours first and then you can do mine?” He suggests and you nod. 

“Take a seat m’ lady,” He jokes and you sit down in the chair you’ve brought in and he pops open the box and the instructions. He plops the unknown color in a bowl and begins to mix it around with a bit of your conditioner before finally turning towards you. 

“Ready?” He asks and you nod. He starts at the root of your hair, and applies it practically perfectly as you watch along in the mirror. As he continues to apply the dye, you bop along to the playlist you put on that blasts through the house. 

“Stay still,” Michael jokes and you look up at him and smile widely. He leans down and presses a quick kiss to your lips before nudging you to turn back around. 

After he finishes applying all of the hair dye to your hair, he twists it and grabs a random plastic bag to tie your hair up. When it’s finished he leans over and kisses your cheek and you get up from your seat. You turn to face him and just as one of your favorite slow songs comes on, he grabs you by your waist and pulls you close while starting to rock you back and forth slowly. 

“I probably look disgusting right now,” you say and Michael shakes his head. 

“You’re the most stunning girl I have ever seen,” he reminds you and you rest your head on his shoulder. 

Once the song ends, you move from Michael’s arms and he sits down where you just were. You open up the box of bleach first and carefully read through the instructions before beginning to mix and apply the hair dye. You put the bleach on first and wait before rinsing it out and blow-drying it. After that’s all done, it’s your turn to rinse out your hair and dry it and you two decide to cover up your mirrors as best as possible to hide the final product. 

“Be careful okay?” He says once you start putting on the red dye that he can’t see. 

“I’m a master at this hun,” you joke and he laughs at you. 

You start at the roots just as he did to yours and move down to the rest of his hair. However, when you get closer to his neck, Michael starts squirming in his seat. 

“Michael,” you whine when he moves. 

“You’re getting too close to my neck!” he exclaims and you roll your eyes. 

You start to apply the brush again near the side of his neck and Micahel jerks to the side again. However this time, you can’t move fast enough and a streak of red goes across his neck and stains it along with his shirt. Your free hand flies to your mouth and you start to giggle causing Michael to turn and look at you. 

“What? What happened?” 

You can barely get anything out behind the laughter so you gesture towards the half-covered mirror in which Michael stands and takes a peek to see the red hair dye everywhere. He turns to you and you’re still laughing quietly at the sight of the dye. 

“Oh you’re so gonna get it,” he says.

“Michael,” you start through uncontrollable giggles. “Michael no,” you warn as he begins to step towards you. 

“Michael!” You drop the brush in the bowl just as he begins to chase after you and you bolt towards the stairs. 

“Michael!! Watch your dye! Michael!” 

You rush down the stairs and Michael catches you at the bottom of them. He wraps his arms around your waist and picks you up causing a scream to erupt from your lips. He carries you over to the living room couch before throwing you down on top of it. He climbs on top of the couch so he’s straddling your waist and begins attacking your sides with his fingers, making you scream with laughter. 

“Michael! Michael oh my god,” you cry out and he smiles mischievously. 

“Do you give up?” He asks and you nod. 

“I give up dear god yes I give up,” you respond and he laughs loudly. 

He moves his hands so they’re next to your face now and leans down to press a long kiss to your lips. You lean up to meet him and go to wrap your arms around your neck when you feel the hair dye sticking to your hands. You break away and look to see red dye all over your hands. 

“Well I think that’s payback enough,” he says and you roll your eyes. 

You both move from the couch and head back upstairs so you can finish Michael’s hair. Once it’s finished and you’ve both dried and styled your hair you pull your phone out and open Snapchat for one final time today. 

“You ready?” You ask when you’re both standing in front of one of the covered up mirrors. 

Michael nods and he pulls the cover off the mirror. Both of your jaws drop at once when you see the results and see that while your hair didn’t turn out terrible, it certainly wasn’t great. 

“You have so much hair dye all over you,” you laugh loudly as Michael inspects the dye all over his neck and face. 

“At least your hair looks good,” he says and you frown at him.

“Baby,” you say and pull out a strand of purely natural hair.

“Okay I’m not a professional,” he admits. 

“I think we should both stick to our day jobs,” you say and he laughs once more before turning and wrapping his arms around you. 

“Well I think you look good no matter what.”

“I love you darling.”

[capsized-heart]

Lady Liberty and The Captain / Part One

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader (1940′s Brooklyn AU)

Summary: You are a rising young star and the newest breakout actress in Hollywood’s Golden Age! When war finally descends on the west, your reputation as America’s Sweetheart finds you cast in a promotional picture alongside Captain America himself.

Yet, he looks eerily familiar, like your Stevie from childhood…

Word count: 4.7k+

Warnings: fluff!!

A/N: hello, everyone!!!! I hope you’re staying home, warm, and safe during these crazy times. I’ve been snuggling with my doggie and continuing with my university’s online classes in my final semester..absolutely crazy how things are rn. I hope this new story can help brighten up your day just a little bit.

First of all, I just want to say thank you💖💛for all the love that old and new readers alike have shown this blog recently. I’ve been writing on this platform for a little less than a year and I never thought l’incendie would blow up as much as it has. You guys are amazing. I’m really excited and eager to share new pieces and hope you enjoy the content I have coming! Please don’t hesitate to pop in and say hi, or shoot me a message. I’ve really enjoyed connecting with readers and would love to know your thoughts on my fics, or just to talk about fandom stuff! Timmy included! PAHAHA

So, this chapter is gonna be a part of a mini-series for a 1940′s writing challenge and I’m using the prompt of wartime romance! This will probably be split into two or three parts and I will tag the host as soon as the last chapter goes up, I’ll most likely make a masterlist in the end as well. Reader has a name in this fic, but hopefully the choice of name will make sense later on :D

As always, feel free to drop a ask/message if you’d like a tag in the next update.

ENJOY!

THE NEW YORK TIMES

Film: ‘Apple of Discord’, Lola Swanson’s Dazzling Debut! 

By NICHOLAS WATTS                                                                                                                      September 1, 1943

----------

The film drama from the original screenplay written and directed by Andrew Campbell opened to a roar of applause and acclaim at the Radio City Music Hall yesterday evening. Apple of Discord is a reimagining of the myth and Plato’s allegory, focusing on the tumultuous, profoundly elegant life of a young noblewoman during the Trojan wars.  

The film’s frontrunner and leading lady is Hollywood newcomer, young and fresh-faced Lola Swanson. Swanson’s performance is so thoughtful, so unfaltering, so intelligent and controlled that it is hard to believe this is little Lola’s long awaited motion picture debut. And what a debut this is! 

Starring opposite Hollywood veterans Sean Schultz, Kash Dennis, and Gracie Smith, this star-studded cast packs punches and sizzling chemistry and yet, Swanson does not fizzle out but confidently holds her own, demanding your attention in every scene, and rightfully so. Watching Swanson in this picture is watching a major actress in the making. 

Born and raised in the heart of Hell’s Kitchen before moving to Brooklyn to pursue acting, some may recognize Lola from her daytime television roles in Insanity and Passion, It’s a Date! and as Jessica in Jessica Davis Returns.

Now we know these roles were preparing Swanson for the debut of the decade.   

“APPLE OF DISCORD” is now showing at the Radio City Music Hall and Cinema 2. Tickets at 25 cents. Running time: 139 minutes.

★★★★☆

——

APPLE OF DISCORD, written and directed by Andrew Campbell; director of photography, Laszlo Kovacs; edited by John Wright; music by John Barry; released by Universal Pictures.

----------

The newspaper trembles hard between your fingers, threatening to tear its edges. Pulse pounding, ears ringing. You can’t stop smiling. You feel like crying. 

You reread the words again and again, the words written by legendary film critic Nicholas Watts, the man you’ve only dreamed of making an impression on, that he’d someday see you in a picture. And here he’s written a glowing review of your major motion picture debut. 

You erupt in a fit of giggles and screams, twirling around the small space of your apartment in a swirl of nightgown, pinned curls. A neighbor, Mr. Krisinski, you think, pounds on your wall to shut you up. 

It’s still early morning and you had gone downstairs at first light to buy a paper from a newsboy. Outside your window, the streets of New York already yawn and bustle with morning commute. The movement of people, gleaming automobiles against the red brick buildings and muted gray of Manhattan. Warm sun washes over it all, your heart brimming and full, mirroring the glow of golden dawn. 

You feel on top of the world. Maybe you’ll finally make it here.

Your phone rings. You rush over to the mint blue rotary telephone on your bedside table, snatch up the receiver before Mr. Krisinski can break down your door with all the racket you’re making.

“Hello?” You say into the mouthpiece, cradling it between your hands. You feel breathless, high strung and buzzing, like you’d just downed a whole case of Coca-Cola, whirring with the taste of sugar and success, bubbling with starpower. Maybe it’s Kash or Gracie calling to congratulate you. Hell, maybe even President Roosevelt.

“Lola! It’s me. Have you read the paper?” The cool voice of Peggy asks you through the receiver. You quietly laugh at your own fantastical expectations. Of course it’s Peggy. Punctual, collected Peggy. 

Peggy Carter is your talent agent and manager at MGM. Peggy had snatched you up while you had been working as a background actress on Michael Curtiz’s Casablanca, so hopeful and beholden just to be in the presence of such respected artists, willing to stay the extra hours even after the other girls had gone home when realizing they wouldn’t be seen in the shot. It hadn’t been your first time on a hot set, you were used to the itchy costumes, long hours of endless waiting, and the empty stomachs, but no way you were going to miss a chance to see Ingrid Bergman and Madeleine LeBeau up close. 

Back then, only a few years ago yet a lifetime away it seems, Peggy had been a casting assistant, seeing your dedication and marching right up to you between takes to hand you her card. On the back, written in smooth blue ink, a time the next morning for an audition at MGM Studios in downtown New York. Eight o'clock sharp. 

You didn’t sleep at all that night after you wrapped.

She’s worked at getting you into audition rooms and meetings for years, pushing you onto writers, production assistants, riggers, directors. She had secured you an audition with Andrew Campbell after “accidentally” leaving your headshot in his mailroom and later calling his assistant with threats of stolen property. MGM’s new fresh face had been penciled in for a side read the following week. 

Fierce, ingenious, and your own bright star, you’ve risen through the ranks and fought your way up with Peggy at your side. 

“Yeah, Peg. I have it here in front of me. This is...absolutely nuts.” 

“Not really, you were brilliant in the picture, darling. But it’s a comfort to know Watts has finally replaced that cotton in his brain with some sense.”

Another laugh from you, twirling the telephone cord around your finger.

“Let me have this one, Peg.”

“If you insist.” 

You hear the rustling of newspaper from the other end. You can practically see Peggy sitting at her desk, perusing the paper over a morning cup of coffee, her hair curled, makeup and nails all scarlet red and perfect. The golden placard glittering on the frosted glass of the door. 

Margaret Carter, Casting Director.

“I’m calling to tell you about an offer we received this morning from Paramount. I think you should take it.” 

That rush of giddiness burns bright again in your veins, pulse skyrocketing. 

“Paramount? Geez, what did they say?”

“They want you for a promotional picture that’s being produced by Senator Brandt. Brandt is hoping to boost the homefront’s war bond sales with a little starpower from you and from Captain America. You’ve seen his posters, haven’t you? That costumed bloke?”

You have. Plastered everywhere and looking like an absolute buffoon. Nice physique, though. 

The disappointment that settles in your stomach is ugly and cold, like a fruitless pit, hard, rough, a sour taste in your mouth. It’s stupidly childish, yet your own expectations for your first movie, first box office hit, for that very first taste of the promised fame and fortune of success, begin to blink out. Expectations you’ve held on to since you were a little girl, since you realized this is the type of work you want to do for the rest of your life.

You’ve managed to impress Nicholas Watts, the most cynical film critic in all of Hollywood, and this is your big break? A Paramount picture featuring you and a tights-wearing mascot?

Peggy is practically asking you to star alongside Mickey Mouse.

“Is that all they offered?” You respond. You wince at the demanding, ungrateful tone. Afterall, showbiz has hardened you to go after what you want, to take and take because this lifestyle does not guarantee anything. You’re told no more than you are yes, the constant rejection having molded you into a diamond tough girl, glitzy and solid, unbreakable, beautiful. 

But how many girls would kill to be in your place?

“The only sensible deal. They also offered you the role of Violet for It’s a Wonderful Life, and Ruthie in The Grapes of Wrath.”

“What?! Peggy, contract me for those instead!” 

“Well, I’m not going to. And you listen well as to why.”

You twist your lips together. Peggy’s voice filters clipped and disapproving through the phone line, the way she always gets before she offers you damned good advice. 

“Not just Watts is impressed with your work, Lola. You’re finally turning heads and for all good reasons. Anyone can get in front of a camera if they have the right look. But you’ve shown them that you have the look and the raw talent. Critics are saying you’re rivaling Judy Garland, darling. And you’re telling me you want the part of a lousy love interest? A secondary daughter? All because the pictures have big names behind them and people may go see it?

“No,” you mumble.

“No is right. You know better than anyone that people expect young stars to burn out fast so they can take their place. It’s all business. If I put you in for those roles, we’d be playing right into their hand. We’d use up all your potential in one summer. The public would get sick of seeing your face in every big picture. We have to earn their affection, darling. It’s slow and tame and not always glamorous, but this deal is smart.”

You listen, silently.

“Morale is low. War is when people turn to familiar pastimes and simple pleasures. To treat themselves, to take their minds off all the grizzly headlines. Captain America embodies all of that and more. If we take this, I promise you, Lola, that people will remember you as the girl who got them through the darkest times. This will do wonders for your career years down the line. And then, if you still want to play Violet, I’ll phone Frank Capra myself.” 

You close your eyes and draw in a breath, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. 

“Well, it looks like I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

“Wonderful. I’ll phone Paramount now. We’ll be in touch.” 

--

Growing up with poor Irish immigrants for parents, the rare moments you could afford to splurge on luxuries, you spent them at local cinemas and theaters with your brother. Any day was a good one when you and Samuel bought tickets for a noon screening, the cheapest showing of the day, scraping together pocket change to split a popcorn if you were feeling extra special.

And reclining in a nearly empty theater with refreshments and goodies between the two of you, you’d watch the silver screen with hope in your mouth and stars in your eyes. In here, it no longer mattered how little money you had, or the discrimination your family faced, or the war in Europe, or the meager apartment you’d go home to, lucky if the electricity and heating had been paid for. In here, nothing else mattered but the visual stories. 

And you realized that you wanted to help tell them. You wanted to be in front of the cameras, to embody characters and personas and let audiences worldwide empathize and identify with your performances. 

You’ve loved playing make-believe since you were a little girl, having never really grown out of it. You could do it, you think. Dangerous dreams, perhaps, but what child doesn’t hold this wish within them? To see their name in lights and to be admired and commended, but most of all, to provide for their family?

 How hard could it be?

**

At sixteen, you land your first speaking role. It’s pathetic. You’re working on set as background, per usual, only this time, the director picks you out from the crowd and gives you the line of, “Good morning, sir.” You’re to look off camera as the actor playing Kent entered the scene and you would then say your line. 

You’re stupidly excited. Three simple words. You’ll be uncredited, of course, but your face would finally be seen! With butterflies fluttering in your stomach, the scene resets, Kent takes his mark, the cameras roll, and you deliver.

The scene is cut from the final reel. 

**

You pound the pavement. You scour newspapers and flyers for casting calls, you phone agencies and playhouses, you save up to get your picture taken on glossy photo paper. You keep looking. You keep working in background until you can land a steady role. 

Then, you finally get one. A miniscule part of a friendly neighborhood girl on a TV drama for CBS. You only have mere minutes of screen time, but the checks that arrive in the mail from Columbia Broadcasting System after your first few episodes air say otherwise. 

You open a savings account. You plant your paychecks and watch them grow into a comfortable sum of money. You land another guest starring role for a daytime soap, the secretary of the title character. Combined with your parents’ salaries from your mother’s sewing and your father’s work on the railroads, you become the main breadwinner.  

You move your family out of Hell’s Kitchen, out of your cramped, dark apartment. You sign a new lease under your new stage name and move to Brooklyn together. 

**

Brooklyn is slightly cleaner, but the familiar hustle and bustle, the noise of shopkeepers and dialects and children and cars is comforting, grounds you in your roots. When your CBS drama wraps months later with your last check in the mail and you’re looking for your next gig, your brother works odd jobs to help shoulder the burden. Brick laying, chimney sweeping, milk and mail delivering, Samuel becomes no stranger to any and all work, so long as it pays. You become a typist on the side as you wait for auditions and callbacks. 

Samuel tells you his aspirations to be a poet, a writer. He hasn’t said a word to your parents, but he shows you the small bound notebook he carries with him, leafing through pages of prose and verse. You encourage him to submit his work to newspapers, publishers. He gives you a shy smile, says he’ll consider it as soon as you get your motion picture debut. You shake on it. Together, your already close bond of brother and sister grows stronger as you each work to support your art.

**

You’re waiting for Samuel to finish his shift so you can catch a late showing of His Girl Friday, a warm September day when you first meet Bucky Barnes down at the wharfs. He’s tall, lean, and glistening with sweat when he rounds out of the warehouse with an armful of crates and nearly knocks you off the pier.

“Hey, watch it!” he snaps. His eyes flash like the water around you, blue and cold and dangerous. Brown locks curl with perspiration against his forehead, the sleeves of his workshirt rolled up over his shoulders, the exposed skin of his throat and arms flushed and tan. 

Embarrassed, you try to steady him, to which he growls in annoyance and spins out of your reach. He makes a great show of bearing the weight himself, grumbling as he sets down his load. You don’t miss the way the muscles in his back flex and dip. It isn’t until he slowly stands back up, wiping his palms on his khakis, that you get a good look at each other.

The hostility in his eyes softens ever so slightly, simmering into a look that cinches your chest tight when his gaze travels shamelessly up from your kitten heels to the curves of your lips and cheek. His breathing is still labored as he surveys you and you can feel heat and color blooming against your skin. When his eyes finally settle on your face, you can’t decide whether you want to slap or kiss him. 

“You lost or something, honey?” He asks with a whisper of a smile. He strolls in a lazy half-circle in front of you and moves to go back up the ramp to the warehouse. Then, he pauses and turns back to you.

“Have we met before? I swear I recognize you from somewhere.”

This delights you deliciously, that a handsome young man you’ve met by chance has seen your work. Not glamorous, acclaimed roles by any means, but recognition nonetheless. You bite the inside of your lip to suppress your smile and give him a coy, bashful flutter of your eyelashes.

“If that were the case, I’m sure I’d remember you.” 

He grins wolfishly, pleased, and takes a step closer. “Yeah? Think you’ll let me take you out for dinner tonight?”

“She’s got plans with me, Buck.” Samuel’s voice carries across the water. Your brother emerges with wooden boxes and sets them between you and Bucky in a huff, as if he’s implementing a physical barrier, both childish and endearing. Bucky glances at you and Samuel.

“Are you two..?”

“Steady? No. She’s my sister.”

Bucky snorts and his eyes find you again, glittering in the evening light. “You never told me you had a sister, Sammy. And such a looker too..”

“Makes you wonder why I never brought her up,” retorts Samuel and gives him a playful shove, traps him briefly in a headlock. “At least Steve wouldn’t ogle.”

“Stevie would get a nose bleed and pass out.” You hear Bucky grunt back. Samuel moves as if to dump him into the drink and Bucky pinwheels, scrambling. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it!”

Satisfied, Samuel releases him and socks him in the shoulder for good measure. Bucky stumbles, looking boyish and smooth despite his shirt and hair all disheveled. 

You’ve seen his type in casting offices all across New York; bold, alluring, and charismatic. It’s a look and type you’ve longed to act opposite of someday, as all young starlets dream of, but a look that simultaneously sparks the feminine temptation that shivers between your breasts. You wonder if Bucky would look the same in a dark bedroom, with him on top of you and your fingers running over his back…

Bucky grins toothily when he catches you staring and shoots you a wink. None of those movie star hopefuls hold a candle now to his rugged, spirited charm.

Samuel guides you back up the pier so he can punch out his time card and the two of you can be on your way. And as you’re about to set foot on solid ground, you hear Bucky call out to you.

“What’s your name, honey?” 

Samuel sighs and shakes his head. “Cripes.” He mutters to himself. Before Samuel can stop you, you laugh and turn back to the water with a fresh and girlish aire, warmth and excitement whispering through your veins, young and naive and sixteen.  

“Dolores!” You give him your full name, your real name. For once, you don’t want to be Lola Sparks. You want to be your natural, honest self, the girl who deserves young love and joy and an untroubled adolescence. The sound of your voice rings clear and strong, the diva that you are, and Bucky’s mouth curves upwards.

“See you ‘round, Dot.” 

**

Much to Samuel’s displeasure, you tail your big brother around the docks like a lost pup whenever you have time. And being a C-list actress and a part-time typist, you have plenty of it. You loiter with the excuse of bringing sack lunches, waiting on Samuel and Bucky at the edge of the warehouses. It’s lonesome and bores you to no end being all by yourself, until one afternoon when someone is already waiting at your spot by the pier.

Small, skinny as his own shadow with a fringe of blonde hair, he leans hunkered and folded within himself, timid and seemingly conscious of how he occupies space. His jacket droops over his shoulders, eyes downcast even as you approach. He has a sketchbook in his hands, concentrated as the pencil moves across the page in fast, gentle strokes. You see an impressive likeness of the piers and Bucky’s distant figure in charcoaled lines.

“That’s really something.” You say.

He jolts so hard the paper tears and he crumples it into his fist in a single motion. “Huh?” he answers. When he looks to you, you realize his eyes are a pretty shade of teal. He flushes, petrified, the tips of his ears coloring pink. You feel horrible when he goes to pocket the ball of paper.

“I’m so sorry for scaring you,” you breathe. Gently, you offer your palm to him. “If you’re not keeping it, do you mind if I have it?” You ask softly. A few seconds pass and he shakes his head before placing it in your hand. You unfurl the paper, carefully smooth it out as he watches you from the corner of his eye. 

Shyness is a barrier of art you’ve known all too well, from your own experiences in audition rooms to your brother’s reluctance to find a publisher, you understand that sting of insecurity better than anyone. So, you let him watch you as you admire his work, let him know of his talent and let your actions speak for you. You smile and slip the drawing into your purse. 

Then, his stomach grumbles audibly, almost comically loud. He folds his arms around his stomach, so tight you’re afraid he’ll snap in half. You quickly reach into one of your paper bags and hand him a sandwich wrapped in cellophane and a can of lemonade. 

“Here, let’s trade.” 

“That’s awfully kind of you, but I can’t accept..” he starts. The timbre of his voice is surprisingly gallant and sure, pleasant, sweet. You have a gut feeling that the world has been taking advantage of that kindness his whole life, scaring him away from genuine compassion, that everything must have a catch. It makes you press harder.

“I insist. Please. It’s the least I can do for sneaking up on you.” He eyes you warily and again that feeling of regret washes over you. “Consider it payment.” You smile. 

Finally, he takes Samuel’s lunch from you and unwraps the sandwich. He eats quickly and quietly, draining the lemonade only minutes later. Perhaps it’s his bony statue, but you feel happy to see this stranger eat.

When he’s finished, he wipes his mouth and turns to you. His lips, pretty, pink, part as if about to speak, yet no words leave him. Instead, he stands frozen with that transfixing blue-green gaze keeping you still, lingering. 

That is until a stream of brilliant scarlet red dribbles down his chin and splatters onto his dress shirt. He pinches his nose, doubling forward and his flustered complexion matching the blood spilling from his nostrils.

“You must be Steve,” You laugh lightly and quickly hand him your handkerchief of cream yellow lace and embroidered flowers. You help steady him as he keeps his head tilted down. “Bucky’s told me all about you.”

Steve groans and presses the handkerchief to his face, blushing all the way down to his neck. 

**

Steve returns your handkerchief days later with an embarrassed hush, carefully cleaned and laundered. It smells of lavender and clean linen and the image of him working the fabric between his thin fingers with soap and suds warms your heart. 

You tell him it’s his. He blooms and keeps it neatly folded in his breast pocket. 

You and Steve quickly grow close in the hours you spend together waiting on Bucky and Samuel. You pack extra lunches for him and sit by the piers chatting, skipping stones as Steve sketches the Brooklyn skyline day in and day out.

“Draw me!” you tease. “Isn’t that the request that all artists want to hear?”

But surprisingly, he does. He always draws you and Bucky and Samuel with striking, intimate familiarity. His sketchbook gradually fills with portraits and pictures of you, sketches that could put your very headshot to shame.

**

After their usual shifts, the four of you head to the drugstore for your ritual of sodas and sundaes. Two pairs, brother and sister and brothers by blood enjoying a rare wartime treat. With the rations on sugar, it’s a special and memorable circumstance just to be together and sharing something sweet.

It’s there, at your corner booth in Wolfe’s Pharmacy over ice cream, that Bucky opens up a paper for that night’s television network schedule and sees your name. 

His eyebrows shoot up. “Dot,” he says. “What do others call you?”

Defeated, you twist your lips, hesitant to break the short spell of normalcy you’ve had with your new friends. Samuel sips at his Coke with a silent grin. 

Time for the truth to come out.

“Well, ‘doll’, by Stevie,” you giggle and toe Steve’s foot under the table. Steve shyly shrinks back into his seat. “But CBS calls me Lola.”

Bucky’s jaw drops. 

“Get out of here. You’re pulling my leg..”

“I absolutely am not.”

“Sammy, tell me she’s pulling my leg.”

“She’s not.”

Two pairs of brilliant blue eyes dart between you and your brother. Bucky’s face breaks into an open smile, laughing. Steve lurches forward. 

“Have you ever met anyone famous?” Steve prods with a hint of that honest, innocent charm.  

You wrinkle your nose sheepishly. “Mason Cook?”

“Who?” Bucky asks around a mouthful of sundae.

“Exactly.” Samuel snorts.

“Well, I’m sure he’s very talented.” Says Steve.

You swipe his maraschino cherry and let the stem dangle between your lips. “At least Stevie believes in me.” 

“Dot, honey. I saw your pilot episode. If anyone’s a fan, it’s me.” Bucky feigns hurt, hand to his chest. 

You stick out your bottom lip before sucking in the stem, working it into a tight knot in your mouth. “Are you still gonna be when your girl is signing autographs with John Wayne?”

You place the knotted stem on your napkin. Bucky nearly chokes. 

“I better be.”

Samuel coughs. Steve giggles. 

**

You thank your stars that your secret doesn’t change anything between Steve and Bucky. They treat you just the same; as Samuel’s baby sister who tags along with the boys. The teasing, the fleeting looks all unchanging. 

Girls, you’ve unfortunately realized, are catty and mean. You’re competing for roles, after all. But with Bucky and Steve, your first taste of homecoming since moving to Brooklyn, you don’t have to worry about silly competition, or fame, or being the best in the room. They keep you level-headed, reminding you of your girlhood and life’s simple pleasures.

Bucky drives you and Steve around town in the company truck on weekends. Hopscotch and jacks on brick roads and warm nights, watching sunsets until the sky blushes peach and mango yellow at Coney Island. 

A Saturday afternoon on Rockaway Beach, a vacation for you all after a draining week of work and auditions when Bucky promises to win you a stuffed bear when he sees you eyeing the one on careful display. 

“Buck..Bucky, give it a rest, we can try the next one.” Steve chides.

Another plastic ring pings off the neck of a glass bottle. Bucky curses, rings his hands together and slaps another dollar onto the counter.

You and Steve trade looks. Bucky’s been at it for ten minutes. At this rate, you know you’ll be walking on the train tracks home tonight.

So, you and Steve huddle close and cheer him on. Do it for our doll! says Steve. Finish it so you’ll stop wasting money, you dolt! you cry. Hell, even the vendor finds it humorous and joins in.

And when Bucky wins that grand prize and you’re handed a teddy bear as big as Stevie, you hoist it on your back, careful to not let it touch gravel or dust as the three of you walk in line with the train tracks later that evening.

Paradise, a sheltered haven from the broken landscapes and realities that the European newsreels broadcast home in grim black and white. 

**

True to Bucky’s word, they become your biggest supporters, helping you run lines and monologues and accompanying you to auditions. Bucky’s not bad for a scene partner, and Steve’s awareness of emotion and character motivation is impressive.

The attention you receive from casting directors and auditionees doesn’t hurt your chances either, lanky Steve and smoldering Bucky wishing you luck before stepping into the green room.

You book a drama. Then, a short film. Then another. You call them your lucky charms. 

And when your humble little short film “premiers” at the corner cinema, squeezed in between an empty noon showing of a cartoon rerun, Steve and Bucky whoop and holler when your character is shown on screen. They throw popcorn and gumdrops, jostle you by the shoulders. Bucky even runs down the aisle and mimes kissing the projector screen.

“That’s our girl! That’s our Dot!”

The usher threatens to throw you out. Steve tells him you’ve paid good money for your tickets and you’ll stay and watch as long as you please.

The following week, you’re scouted by Peggy Carter. 

Your world, your career will never be the same.

[gingerpeachtae]

Concentric [17]

masterlist

Words: 9.5k

Genres: fantasy!AU, angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, eventual smut (?)

Warnings: some violence

Summary: You had been ready for the end of the semester. You had been ready to spend time away from your best friend, Jimin, and finally move on from the feelings you harbored. Yet, after your friend was forced to reveal a secret, you found yourself in a new world that was chock full of magic, war, and wonder. So, here you were, basically thrown into your own fantasy novel, with your best friend on one side, and six male warriors on the other.

A/N: HERE IT IS! Thank you all for your patience! Engoy! 💙

This far into the depths of the earth there was no warmth; only cold dampness and the distinct scent of a deep cavern. The female was shivering and crying as she approached the male, who was chained to the chilled, rocky ground. Tears streaked down her cheeks and dripped off her chin as the male struggled against his restraints, jingling the metal, and snarled at her. The links that were cuffed to the male’s wrists were long enough that he was able to stand, but he couldn’t raise his arms higher than his waistline.

It wasn’t for lack of trying, though. As the female advanced toward him, the male continued trying to yank the chains out of the floor. Trying to raise his hands so he could choke her until she begged.

Begged for air. For mercy. Forgiveness.

And he would show her none.

“You think this will solve anything?” The male spat at her before laughing madly. “You can’t kill me… you can’t kill what I am!”

The female drew in a shaky breath and weakly smiled as she took in the sight before her. She swept her gaze over the slope of the male’s nose, the sharpness of his cheekbones, the curve of his lips. All features she had tenderly touched and kissed over the years. Familiar features. But what hadn’t always been there was the anger boiling behind his garnet eyes… at least, it had never been directed toward her. Not until now. And although the rage in his eyes made her want to flinch away, she forced herself to meet his glare. To imprint it all into her memory.

She raised her hand to gently caress the male’s face one last time as more tears escaped from her eyes.

“I’m not going to kill you. I can’t. As much as I hate you… I still love you too much.” The female lowered her hand to the male’s chest, resting her palm right over his heart as she gazed into his red eyes. “I’m going to seal you away, so the world doesn’t have to suffer under your influence.”

Then, she began to push into the male’s chest, making him groan and contort his face in pain. Blood cascaded out from his chest, coating his body and painting the floor a deep crimson. But the female continued to push in. Past the skin, meat, and bone. All the way until her delicate hand was wrapped around his still beating heart.

The male yelled at her as she gripped the muscle, cursing her existence and all she stood for. Ignoring his cutting words, she instead began whispering an incantation. The room began glowing a warm gold as she reached the peak of the spell. When she was finished, the brilliant light dimmed and faded until the room was cold, damp, and dark once more.

“There still needs to be balance…” The female murmured to herself before forcefully removing her hand from the cavity of the male’s chest.

In her hand was not his heart, though, but rather an obsidian crystal that pulsed and expelled wisps of black smoke. At the extraction of the object, the male collapsed to his knees and released a shuddering breath.

“How… how dare you?” He tremulously growled and violently jerked his restraints.

The female just slowly back away, tears still flowing down her cheeks. She cradled the ebony crystal against her chest as the male began to grow more and more unruly.

He thrashed against the chains. Screamed. Cursed. Gouged at the spot where his bondages were bolted to the floor, cracking and breaking his nails.

With irregular breaths and crazed eyes, he met the female’s gaze once more. “Release me. Right. Now.”

She held back a sob and shook her head at the male, who began screaming and tearing at his chains yet again.

“I love you…” she whispered faintly. “But this is for the best.”

And then she turned and ran, leaving the person she both loved and despised behind forever as his screams echoed off the cavern walls.

“How much longer is she going to be like this hyung?”

The voice was murky and distant.

“I don’t know…” You heard another voice answer, and it was just as far away as the first.

“Her body is weaker than ours so it’s probably just taking her a bit longer, okay?” A third voice swam into your head through the darkness.

The first replied, “But it’s been two days.”

You knew that voice…

Where did you know that voice from?

“I know… just… just give her time. She’ll come back to us soon Tae.”

Tae…

A handsome face with sharp, blue eyes and a boxy smile flashed in your memory.

TaeTae… Taehyung.

Through the obscuring blackness that overtook your senses, you heard footsteps approach. They sounded dull and weighted, almost like they were in slow motion.

“Have you seen Kook?”

Cook? Is there a chef on the loose?

Someone sighed next to you. “He’s um, letting out his anger again.”

“For Exia’s sake, Kook’s going to kill him before we can get any information.”

No, not ‘cook’… Kook… Kookie…

Burgundy hair. Peridot eyes. Rough exterior. Gentle hands. Playful soul.

Jungkook.

The black started lessening and your senses sharpened.

The world slowly began to become clear.

You could hear the leaves and the birds and the bugs.

Could feel the sunlight warming your skin.

The wind whispering against your face.

A hand clasping your own.

A thumb softly moving across your knuckles.

“Jin hyung went to keep an eye on him.”

Was that Hobi’s voice?

You slowly inhaled through your nose as your eyelids fluttered open.

Squinting through the sunlight that contrasted so immensely with the darkness you had been floating in, you registered a combination of treetops, clouds, and a blue sky above you.

Letting out a miniscule groan at the bright light attacking your retinas, you realized you were resting on your back. A blanket was spread over your body and another was bunched underneath your head as a makeshift pillow.

The hand holding yours tightened as the sound of sleepy distress left your mouth. “Little scorja…?”

Rolling your head to the side, you let your gaze meet a pair of hopeful, blue eyes and you blinked slowly before whispering, “Hey, TaeTae.”

While he gasped at your response, you sent him a tender, but weak smile, and let your eyes drift down to where your hand was being held by his. Shifting your hand in his grasp, you gave his fingers a reassuring squeeze.

Then, with a strangled grunt, you tried to raise your body so you were sitting up. Unsurprisingly, your body creaked and groaned in protest; not used to movement after lying sill for so long. Noticing your struggle, Tae was quick to aid you with a hand on your back.

You grimaced as your entire body ached. Fucking hell, I’m sore.

“Welcome back to the land of the living.”

After you managed to sit up with the Tae’s help, you turned your stiff neck to the side to see Namjoon showing off his dimples with warm, yellow eyes.

“Hi, Joo-wait I died!?” You tried to shriek out your sentence, but your voice came out broken and cracked from misuse.

You started coughing because of how utterly dry your throat was, moaning in between the forceful expulsions of air due to how they jerked your sore muscles. While Tae cursed and let go of your hand to scramble to find his canteen, Namjoon’s eyes widened and he held his hands up.

“No, no, no! Oh my goddess, that was really poor choice of wording. I just meant like ‘Yay! You’re conscious again,” Namjoon quickly explained as he winced at himself.

You felt your shoulders drop in relief and Tae returned and held the opening of the canteen to your lips. He gradually tipped it up so cool water flowed into your mouth. After a couple seconds of guzzling the heavenly liquid, you raised your hand to tell him to stop.

While you swallowed and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, you realized something.

“How am I able to understand you guys if I’ve been unconscious? And how am I speaking your language right now?” You looked back to the leader of the kiela and tilted your head in confusion.

Namjoon proceeded to tell you that since they weren’t sure when you would wake up, they had been placing the yellow language petal in your mouth every morning. They hadn’t wanted you to wake up and not be able to communicate immediately, so they basically force-fed you the magic petal the past two days. You nodded in understanding at him then made grabby hands at the canteen in Tae’s grasp. The blue-eyed Saeni chuckled deeply and handed you the object as your eyes wandered to take in your surroundings.

A little to your right, Mingi was sitting in the shade quietly watching you. His hazel eyes lit up and he gave you a nod when you turned to him. You tipped the canteen toward him with a tiny grin and continued to sweep the area with your eyes. As you twisted around, all you saw was the mass of trees and the beautiful temple, but as you rotated all the way to look behind you, and unexpected sight greeted you.

Sitting on the ground with his hands bracing his weight behind him was the kiela’s spy. When your eyes met his light brown orbs, he smiled brightly and waved, but quickly returned his attention to the person fast asleep in his lap. His hand kept alternating between gently tracing patterns on the Saeni’s arm and brushing his mint hair out of his face.

Seeing what your eyes were fondly glued to, Namjoon softly said, “You know, you did almost die though…”

His comment made your body stiffen and you took a deep breath while turning back to face the yellow-eyed male as he described how Yoongi had made it to you just as you were on the edge between life and death. You had just lost so much blood and Tae hadn’t been able to stop the bleeding. Not with how large and deep the cut was to your thigh. Not with how the draikensu’s knife had gone entirely through your forearm.

Yoongi was already tired and drained from fighting after conjuring the shield, so he didn’t have much juice left in him. Though, somehow, he was able to stop the bleeding and mend some of your flesh before he had passed out form exhaustion.

Memories of your flayed skin and a puncturing blade burned behind your eyes. You shuddered and glanced to your leg and arm to see them wrapped tightly with bandages.

The leader of the kiela nodded at the wrappings and said that after a couple hours of involuntary sleep, Yoongi had woken and immediately worked on healing more of you until he collapsed yet again. Then he did it again a few hours later. And he continued to do that until he was sure you wouldn’t die or lose a limb.

“They’re still not fully healed, since Yoongi hasn’t been able to recharge completely, but there won’t be any permanent damage.”

You tenderly touched the bandages on your arm and nodded before going to take another sip of water. Though as you began to tip the canteen back you froze as you remembered why you had gotten these wounds in the first place. The canteen in your hand was slowly lowered to your lap while your pulse sped up, and you looked between Tae and Namjoon.

“Where’s Jimin?” You asked them shakily, fear beginning to ebb and flow within you. “Why isn’t he here? Is he… did he…?”

Tae quickly wrapped his arms around you and crushed you into a hug, and the action only made more dread blossom in your heart. Your throat tightened as tears began to leak down your cheeks, and all you could think of was how limp Jimin had looked after he fell. How lifeless. Tae pulled you closer and began murmuring sweet nothings to try to calm you down.

Choking back your sobs as your body trembled, you did your best to compose yourself but failed. “He… he’s dead, isn’t he?”

“Huh?” Tae leaned away slightly so he could look at you with confused, furrowed brows. “Chim hyung isn’t dead.”

Your jaw dropped and it seemed like your entire self paused for a moment; needing time to reset after hearing him.

“W-What?” You hiccupped through your tears and shock.

Before Tae could answer, Namjoon spoke up. “He just broke his leg badly, oh and a few ribs too, and had a nasty concussi-”

Mingi suddenly coughed loudly and gave Namjoon a pointed look before finishing for the leader. “But he’s perfectly fine and alive, thanks to you.”

He’s alive. He’s alive. Oh my fucking goddess, he’s alive.

The Saeni holding you leaned back in and gave your cheek a comforting peck then he smoothed some of your hair away from your wet face while you sniffled and rubbed your eyes.

“Well, where the hell is he? I wanna see him.”

Namjoon grimaced slightly and looked away from you. “He, uh, blames himself for what happened to you and is taking it pretty hard.” The male sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Every time he’s seen you or saw how tolling it’s been on Yoongi to heal you, he feels even worse. So, he’s been staying away, basically isolating himself from everyone with the exception of Jiae and Chungha.”

You released a long breath and hung your head as you absorbed Namjoon’s words.

Of course, he has to blame himself for something that isn’t his fault. That’s such a Jimin thing to do.

“Alright, well… that’s just fucking fantastic. And Jungkook? Where is he?”

Tae scooted back from you a bit and held your hands but looked down as he gave you an answer. “After you passed out, Kook kind of… lost it. I didn’t see a lot of it because I was so focused on you, but he punched the draikensu that hurt you until he was unconscious and… and then he went around and finished the rest. But the way he did it… I’ve never seen him like that before.”

You saw Mingi shake his head out of the corner of your eye. “It was like he turned into something else. Went berserk. It was a bit terrifying honestly.”

The guard hesitated to continue but you gave him a nod. So, he went on to describe how after the few remaining draikensu had been wiped out by his blades, he had returned to the only one still breathing: the one who had hurt you. Jungkook had stalked up to the unconscious male with blood-soaked hands and furious eyes. Mingi, Jin, and Namjoon had to step in and restrain the maknae from killing the draikensu. They understood Jungkook’s desperation to end the male’s life… but they needed him alive for questioning. After wrestling with the enraged youngest member for several minutes, the three of them managed to bring Jungkook to the other side of the temple. There, Jungkook had punched the temple’s stone exterior and begun yelling at them to let him see. When they didn’t, he had collapsed to the ground and fisted his burgundy hair in his hands. He had gone completely silent besides the sounds of his strained, labored breaths, and had stayed that way until Tae came around and informed everyone that you were in a somewhat stable condition.

Then, similar to Jimin, every time Jungkook saw you he would get upset… only his anger wasn’t directed at himself. It was at the draikensu who had maimed you. Whenever the anger, stress, and worry from the situation built up within him, he would go release it by essentially beating the shit out of the draikensu they were now holding captive.

And, apparently, that’s what he was doing at this very moment.

You deeply inhaled and looked into Namjoon’s concerned yellow eyes. “Let me see him. Please.”

You limped your way through the temple halls, using one hand to brace yourself against the stony walls as you did so. The Saeni had all offered to help walk you to the room they were keeping the draikensu locked up in, but you declined. You wanted to go alone. Plus, your leg wasn’t too bad. Yeah, it still hurt, but it was manageable. And it was leagues better than it had been the last time you were conscious.

Damn, Yoongi really is amazing… I need to remember to thank him when he’s awake later.

Fortunately, the pathway to the room wasn’t blocked by any tree roots or honeysuckle vines, so you didn’t have to strain your body and climb around anything. Yet, regardless of the seemingly easy path, your breaths were still labored as you made your way through the innards of the temple. It annoyed you. Feeling weak, that is.

But, hey, it beats being a lifeless corpse, so I’ll take it.

While you shuffled through the hallways, you enjoyed the floral scent that permeated the stuffiness of the ancient structure. And as you continued placing one foot slowly in front of the other, you watched the specks of dust float in the patches of sunlight that filtered through the many cracks and windows.

After making your way down several halls, you rounded a corner and paused your steps for a millisecond when you saw Jin sitting down with his back against the wall. His forearms were resting on his knees as his raven-haired head leaned back against the stone behind him. His dark eyes had been closed when you first turned the corner, but they opened and shifted to you as you started making your way over. Once he registered who you were, he shot to his feet and jogged down the hallway to pull you into a short hug.

Giggling, you returned the gesture and wrapped your arms around him briefly. “Hey there, Papa Jin.”

“It’s really good to see you up and about, little scorja. You had us super worried.”

You smiled at him as you stepped back, careful not to place too much weight on your still-healing leg.

You nudged him with your uninjured arm and cocked a brow teasingly. “What are you doing out here, hmm? I thought you’re supposed to be watching Kookie?”

Jin’s expression darkened and he let out a sigh. “Didn’t want to watch. It’s not a pretty sight, so I’m just listening to make sure he doesn’t go too far.” He tapped his ear, making his small silver hoop shake.

You didn’t know how to respond, so you just gave him a tiny nod in understanding.

“I’m assuming you’re here to see him, yeah?”

You nodded again and looked past him down the hallway.

“Are you sure you want to see him right now? Like I said, it’s not exactly a pretty sight.”

You brought your eyes back to the male before you and affirmed that you did.

I want to see him. I need to see him… and he needs to know that I’m okay and awake.

Jin pursed his lips in thought for a few heartbeats then raised his hand to your shoulder. “Alright, little scorja¸ I’ll head back to give you two some privacy. Just make sure Kook doesn’t kill the bastard.” He gave your shoulder a light squeeze then stepped around you and walked down the hall, around the corner, and out of sight.

You inhaled slowly then released all the air in your lungs in one, strong huff as you began moving toward your destination. Toward Jungkook.

You reached the end of the hallway and turned left, your eyes now aimed at the opening at the end of the new hall. As your limping steps neared the doorway, you started hearing grunts of exertion and the thumping of knuckles hitting meaty skin. And they only increased in volume as you advanced further.

Finally, you arrived at the opening and the sounds of ragged breaths, moans, and pain were loud and clear. Steeling yourself, you placed a hand on the corner and peeked inside the room.

The smell of iron hit you and rapidly replaced the soft, honeysuckle scent of the temple. In the corner of the room, Jungkook crouched over the draikensu, who’s wrists and ankles were bound with rope. One hand was twisted in the male’s ripped shirt at the collar, the other was fisted and repeatedly smashing into the male’s swollen and puffy face. Even in the low light of the room, you could see how bruised and thrashed Jungkook’s knuckles were. The skin split and oozing blood. A testament to how hard and often he was hitting the draikensu who had attacked you.

Blood was staining the back of Jungkook’s hands and it was smeared across the draikensu’s face. The red liquid was leaking out of the male’s cracked lips in spitty dribbles while his eyes rolled back into his head from Jungkook’s assaults.

“Did you think you could get away with it? With going after them? Hurting my family?” Jungkook hissed at the bleeding, broken male as he brought his fist down yet again.

When he didn’t get a reply, Jungkook growled and heaved the draikensu up, pushing the barely conscious male into the wall. Before the draikensu could crumple to the ground, the Jungkook kneed the male in the gut and threw a powerful right hook into his jaw. Only then did Jungkook allow the draikensu to collapse to the floor in a heap of bloody, bruised, and limp flesh.

As he stood over the draikensu, you could see his shoulders rising and falling heavily with his breaths.

You took a tiny step inside the room. “If he’s dead, he won’t be able to say anything useful, you know?”

All the muscles in Jungkook’s body stiffened before he whipped around to stare at you in shock, though it quickly morphed back into a hardened expression. His jaw ticked and his green eyes glinted dangerously while you fully entered the room.

“If he’s dead, he can’t hurt you.”

You stared at each other, neither of you making a move… but you saw his hand twitch toward his ruby-hilted dagger.

You rolled your eyes. “But if he’s de-”

“No.” Jungkook cut you off and he wrapped his hand around the dagger’s handle and gripped it so tightly more blood leaked out from the openings on his knuckles. “He hurt you. He deserves to die.”

You blinked at him while he looked away and took several deep breaths. Slowly releasing his dagger, he brought his peridot eyes back to you. He seemed to hesitate for a heartbeat before rushing over and pulling you against his chest. Strong arms enwrapped you as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. Immediately, you placed your arms around him and closed your eyes while inhaling his familiar scent of steel and flowers. I was obscured a bit by the overwhelming scent of blood, but it still managed to both comfort you and send your heart into a frenzy.

Both of you stood in each other’s embrace for what seemed like a lifetime, but the moment was shattered as a manic laughter rose up and echoed throughout the room.

Jungkook untangled himself from you and looked behind him as you gazed past his shoulder. The draikensu was chuckling at the two of you while more blood seeped out of his mouth and onto his chin.

“I understand why it’s always you who pays me visits.” The male spat blood on the floor and smiled in a perverse way while propping himself up awkwardly due to his restrained wrists. “It’s because I almost killed your whore.”

Instantly, you noticed the way Jungkook narrowed his eyes and his tensed his body. He took a step toward the male, but you hastily grabbed his hand and yanked him back. The fucker was just goading Jungkook on, but he was too angry to realize it. Much to your surprise, though, the burgundy-haired Saeni let you hold him back and although he kept his focus on the draikensu, he threaded his fingers through yours.

The beaten male’s blown out and wild eyes dropped to your linked hands and he barked out more laughter. “Ah, you get put on a leash when she’s around, huh?”

Jungkook’s fingers tightened around your own and you heard him emit a low growl. You could tell he was about two seconds away from exploding, so before that could happen, you peeled your hand from his and approached the draikensu, doing your best to conceal your limp. You stood over the male, who showed off his crimson-stained teeth to you.

Tilting your head to the side, you smirked. “Actually, it’s me who needs the leash most of the time.”

Then, you raised your good leg and kicked the male straight in his bruised, puffy face, causing his head to snap back into the stone wall. The force of your kick made you lose what little consciousness he had left, and he slumped to the side with his eyes closed and mouth shut.

Placing your foot back on the floor, you let out a small groan as you returned your weight to your uninjured leg. Swiveling on your heels, you limped your way over the blood-puddled floor back to Jungkook who was gawking at you in awe. You murmured a ‘let’s go’ as you hobbled past him out of the room and into the hallway. Chuckling, Jungkook followed you out and caught up beside you, flexing his bruised, bloody knuckles as you walked side by side.

The Saeni blew out a puff of air as the scent of iron began to dissipate and be replaced with honeysuckle. “Is it bad that watching you do that kind of turned me on?”

His voice was light and joking, so you knew he wasn’t being serious. Though, you weren’t sure how to feel about that. Yet again, you found yourself being so confused by the male next to you. It seemed like a never-ending, recurring theme.

All you knew was that you were tired. The walking was making you tired. Seeing Jungkook like that made you tired. The kick made you tired. His comment made you tired. You were just… tired.

Sighing, you replied in a drained voice, “Seeing as how you don’t find me attractive… yeah, maybe a little.”

You forced out a small laugh and turned to the side to see Jungkook’s reaction, but he was no longer beside you. You slowed and fully turned to see that he had stopped walking and was looking down at the dusty floor. His hands were clenched, and you furrowed your brows. A couple moments passed before he finally lifted his head and you were confused to see conflict swimming in his peridot eyes.

Again, you found yourselves just staring at each other. Not moving. Not saying anything.

All of the sudden, Jungkook muttered to himself, relaxed his hands, and then, still without saying anything to you, walked over and scooped you into his arms bridal-style.

“Hey! What the hell!?” You smacked his chest lightly.

He glanced down at you briefly as he started making his way through the temple halls. “You were limping.”

“So?” You scoffed.

“So, I’m carrying you the rest of the way.”

You huffed and began pouting, crossing your arms over your chest as well as you could while being squished against Jungkook’s body. Yet as he continued walking, you couldn’t help but sigh in pleasure as your injured leg was finally free from your weight. There was still a dull throbbing, but the absence of the constant, piercing pain made your eyes begin to droop and before you knew it, you were struggling to keep your eyes open.

But you were just so tired. Too tired to fight the urge to sleep that beginning to take you over.

So, you didn’t fight it.

You whispered, “Thanks, Kookie…” and allowed your eyes to close and your head to lean into his chest.

Then you fell into an easy sleep, lulled by the strong beating of his heart.

“We need to decide who’s going to do it.”

“I would, I really would. But…”

“It’s okay, Tae, we know why you can’t, you don’t have to say it.”

Once again, you found yourself awakening in the middle of a conversation. You stirred lightly as you slowly came to your senses.

“I can do it. She saved my life after all.”

Namjoon.

“She saved mine too. And she’s my best friend.”

Jimin? JIMIN!? Okay, time to wake the fuck UP, Y/N. Jimin is here!

“Hyungs… let me do it. Please.”

Jungkook.

You forced your body to roll over onto your stomach and you raised your arms above your head, groaning pleasantly at the stretch. Once your little cat stretch was over, you opened your eyes and tucked your arms beneath your head to gaze up at the kiela. Luckily, it was now evening time, so you weren’t attacked by the bright harshness of the midday sun like last time.

“Mmmmm.” You sleepily moaned as you tried to process the conversation you heard. “What are you guys talking about?”

Every member snapped his jaw shut and looked at each other, silently urging someone else to say something. Jin nudged Namjoon with his foot, Yoongi yawned and gestured to Hobi, Jimin forcefully pushed Tae forward, and Jungkook just pointed at Yoongi with wide eyes.

You scoffed and pushed yourself up, resting your chin in your palm and looking at the collection of males before you with narrowed eyes. “Seriously?”

Why are they being so weird and sketchy?

“Uhhh…” They all continued to look between them.

Namjoon even coughed awkwardly.

Rolling your eyes, you took in an exaggerated breath through your nose. “Do you smell it?” The kiela all looked at you dumfounded. “That smell. A kind of smelly smell. The kind of smelly smell that smells…”

For Exia’s sake.” Jimin muttered as he caught on to what you were saying.

You raised a brow at the group of Saeni. “Suspiscious.”

“Holy shit, you didn’t do the full reference.” Your best friend pushed his apricot hair back with his hand, but when he realized your eyes were on him, he froze.

You took him in, noting that his leg was no longer twisted at an unnatural angle. He actually looked like he was, indeed, completely fine. While you studied him, he blinked at you and his surprised expression changed into a guilt-ridden one.

Suddenly, Jimin looked at his wrist and stammered, “Aw shit, look at the time! I need to get back to Jiae like right now, so bye!”

He shoved his way through his gaggle of brothers and began booking it out of there, like he was desperate to get away from you.

“PARK JIMIN!” You staggered to your feet, ignoring the flash of pain in your thigh, and pointed a finger at the boy menacingly. “If you do not bring your bubble butt back over here so we can talk I swear I’m going to hobble after you for all eternity like that demon thing from It Follows!”

The apricot head stopped in his tracks and slowly looked back at you in fear. You crossed your arms, lifted a brow, and tapped your foot on the ground impatiently.

Gulping, Jimin immediately fast-walked back and plopped down on the dirt in front of you while muttering about how much that movie scared him and how much he hated it in return

Snickering to yourself at how well you knew how to deal with Jimin’s stubborn ass, you sheepishly turned your attention to the other members. They had no clue what you had just threatened their brother with, but they all seemed a little startled and hesitant to find out.

“Um, would you guys mind maybe giving us a minute?”

It was like they all snapped out of a daydream simultaneously and they nodded their consent and began walking off in different directions. As Tae dragged Jungkook away toward the creek, you saw the burgundy-haired Saeni gazing over his shoulder at you so you sent him a tiny wave. Once they disappeared into the trees, you were about to go sit in front of your sulking best friend, but you suddenly remembered your mental promise from earlier. As fast as you could, you limped after Yoongi and Hobi, almost managing to trip over a rock in the process and calling out the former’s name along the way. The pair stopped when they heard you, and when you were close enough, you threw your arms around the mint-haired Saeni. Yoongi let out a grunt at the impact and although you wanted to squeeze him tightly to show your gratitude, you didn’t since you knew he probably wouldn’t appreciate it. Instead, after a couple seconds, you released the surprised male and just smiled at him.

“Thank you, Mr. Sparkle Hands. For not letting me croak just yet.”

Then you winked and gimped your way back to Jimin, who was watching you in amusement. Though, as soon as you returned your focus to him, he dropped his gaze to his hands that were clasped in his lap.

Your steps slowed as you approached, unsure as to what to say now that you had him alone and with you. Ultimately, you decided not to speak as you sat down across from your best friend, allowing him the opportunity to say something first.

You waited, watching the sun begin to dip lower and lower in the distance.

You waited, listening as the bugs became more and more active.

You waited and waited and waited.

Until finally, Jimin spoke.

“I knew you shouldn’t have come to Illain. I knew you were going to get hurt.” He still didn’t look up from his hands. “And it’s all my fault.”

You blew a raspberry and replied, “And if hadn’t come then who would’ve saved your sorry ass?”

Your attempt to lighten the atmosphere failed, as he only let his head fall further.

Way to go, you dumb bitch. You made him feel worse.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have saved me. Maybe you should have just let me die.”

You sucked in a breath as his self-deprecating tone filled your ears and you stared at him with eyes wide in disbelief.

Jimin...

“Maybe it all would be easier for everyone. For Exia’s sake, I don’t even know what I’m doing! I don’t even know how to fucking unlock the fucking secret that only I’m supposedly able to unlock! I’m not even a full Saeni and I never even met my damn father! How do we even know I can do it!? I-I just I don’t know what to do and everyone is relying on me to figure this out and if you had died, I would have been so lost, and I was so scared when I woke up and saw Yoongi frantically working over you.” Jimin tugged at his hair harshly then finally raised his head and you flinched at the pure pain and guilt that filled his brown eyes. “When I saw you… I thought you were actually dead. You were fucking covered in blood and your eyes were closed and I thought I had lost you… and then I learn that you were hurt because of me! Because I’m a goddamn failure that can’t do anything right! You got hurt because of me… so, how can it not be my fault!? It is my fault! I almost killed you… my own best friend… my family.”

Tears were dripping off his sharp jaw and he was breathing laboriously by the time he was finished. His anguished eyes looked into yours, desperate for you to affirm his statements. He felt helpless and wanted to wallow in his pain. He wanted you to confirm his words. He wanted you to agree that you almost died because of him. That you now hated him as a result. Because if you hated him, you would stay away. And then you would finally be safe from harm.

Seeing him like that shattered your heart and you felt your throat thicken as the strong boy you’ve known and cared for for years fell apart before your eyes.

You bit your lip, wanting to do nothing more than hold him in your arms and tell him how it wasn’t his fault, that you didn’t blame him… but you also knew how his mind functioned. You could repeat how nobody blamed him over and over and over until your voice was hoarse, and it would have no impact on him. He was just too stubborn and in his own head. Only he would be able to forgive himself for something he didn’t even do and change his perspective.

You let out a puff of air as you kept your gaze trained on Jimin and you clapped your hands together. “Alright, I’m only going to say this once, so listen the fuck up Slim Jim. In the end, it’s up to you whether or not you pull your head out of your own ass and believe me. Just know that I, in no way, shape, or form, blame you. What happened isn’t your fault.” He went to argue, but you sternly spoke over him. “It was entirely my decision. I was the one who leapt off the roof. I was the one who jumped in front of the knife. I was the one who decided to risk my life. Not you. Not anyone else. Me. My decision.”

Jimin tightly shut his eyes, causing more tears to leak out from the corners.

“It’s up to you to accept that or not. But I don’t blame you and I don’t regret what I did either.” You reached out and gently squeezed his knee.

“I don’t… I don’t know if I can completely accept that yet.” Jimin replied in a soft, tiny voice as he sniffled and reopened his eyes to stare at where your hand rested on his knee. “But… I’ll try to.”

You patted his knee and smiled at him. “Okay.”

Jimin took a big breath and sloppily wiped at his face with his fingers before wrapping a hand around your wrist and tugging you forward so he could embrace you.

He held you tenderly as he whispered how sorry he was for not being by your side the past few days. Ignoring the protest in your forearm and thigh, you secured all four of your limbs around the boy and hugged him hard. You told him that he didn’t need to worry about it and that you were just so glad he was alive. Then you wacked him on the back with your hand, making him yelp in surprise, and you scolded him for scaring you and telling him to never do that again.

Jimin giggled. “No promises, but I’ll do my best as long as you never do that again either.”

You leaned back so you could look the half-Saeni in his tear-reddened eyes and you stuck your tongue out at him. “No promises.”

Your best friend just sighed and mumbled about how he could never win with you.

You poked him in the arm. “Hey, Namjoon said you broke your leg, some ribs, and had a concussion, so…”

“So how am I walking around A-okay?”

You nodded.

“Ah, since hyung was, um… preoccupied… with you and my injuries weren’t too severe, Hobi hyung got me all healed up.”

You began cooing at Jimin, pinching his cheeks and commenting about how older brother took such good care of him. The apricot head rolled his eyes and swatted your hands away, but even though he tried to appear annoyed, he couldn’t hide the grin that teased his lips.

Smiling back, you slowly unwound yourself from him, careful not to disturb your wounds any more than you already had. Once you were successfully back to your original spot, Jimin asked if you were good and you pursed your lips and nodded while making a noise of confirmation.

Although you told him you were feeling fine, the apricot head still told you he was going to find Yoongi and have him check on you just in case. You blew out another raspberry and settled back on your sleeping mat as Jimin stood and brushed off the dirt from his pants.

“Be honest, you just want an excuse to leave me so you can go find your girl.” You teased him while wiggling your brows.

Jimin laughing, making his eyes squished closed and you looked at him fondly. “Maybe. But you know you’ll always be my girl too, right? Unless, of course, Kook’s not okay with that.”

He winked at you and you groaned, covering your face with your hands before he could see the heat rising to your cheeks.

Between your fingers you hissed, “Fucking hell, stop! He could hear you!”

“Mhmm, sure, whatever you say… Mrs. Jeon.”

“Okay, yup, please go. Leave me.” You buried your head in your arms to hide your growing embarrassment.

Mrs. Y/N Jeo-HAHA NOPE. Not going there. Cease all brain activity.

Jimin laughed again and bid you goodbye, telling you he’d see you in a bit. Though before he could get far, you bolted upright and called out his name so he would look back at you.

“Please try to accept it, okay?”

He sent you a sad smile and nodded. “Okay.”

Then he turned around and walked off into the trees to find his mint-haired brother as you collapsed back onto your mat and stared at the slowly darkening sky.

Please try to.

A little while later, you had all just finished eating dinner prepared by the one and only Papa Jin. Before you had started eating, though, Jiae had rushed over and pulled you into a soft hug, expressing her happiness that you were okay. She also thanked you for being brave and saving Jimin. You just quietly hugged her back until she was satisfied and let you go. As she hurried over to where Jimin sat, Chungha passed you and you had to snort at how she didn’t even spare you a single glance. It was just so typical Chungha.

Afterwards, you made your way to your usual spot between Tae and Jungkook, your strides not as strained as they had been a couple hours prior. Jimin had kept his word and sent Yoongi over to check on you after your conversation and the magic user had done a little more healing on you, much to your protest. You didn’t want the mint-haired Saeni to exhaust himself even more, but he had insisted until you gave in. He really had a knack for getting his way. When the soft blue glow had begun to emit from his hands, you had debated whether or not to bring up the kiela’s spy, but in the end, you decided to keep your mouth shut because Yoongi was tired. And tired Yoongi definitely did not want to discuss feelings.

As you had dragged yourself over to your usual spot and sat between the two Saeni who were joking with each other like they typically did, you had almost cried at the smell of Jin’s cooking. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until the delicious scent hit your nose. The smell had made you salivate so much, you had practically vibrated in excitement when Jin poured you a little cup of stew. He had been cautious not to give you too much since he didn’t want you getting sick by eating a lot after not doing so for a couple days. It was a good thing he thought of that too, because you would have tried to eat the entire pot. Snatching the cup out of his hands, you had been eager to stuff yourself, but before you did, you made sure to turn to the decently-sized campfire and pour some of the food into the flames. You had murmured a thank you to Exia and Illai for giving you strength and for keeping you alive and asked them to continue watching over you. Jungkook had been the only one to notice your actions and he smiled before returning his eyes to his meal, not saying a word as you sat beside him and began spooning the stew into your mouth.

Now, as you rubbed your full, content tummy and held a discussion with Tae about who the best starter Pokémon was, you felt a nudge at your side.

What does Jungkook want now?

Sure, he had been quiet at the start of the meal, but as the sky grew darker, he became more and more loud and touchy. Constantly poking and interrupting you, almost like he was desperate for your attention.

He is such a little shit sometimes.

At first, you disregarded his nudging because detailing why Mudkip was your preferred pick was much more important than dealing with a whiny Jungkook. Eventually, his nudges increased in power, so your entire body swayed each time he touched you.

“For fuck’s sake! What do you need, you big baby!?” You finally had enough and turned to the green-eyed male.

His lips dropped into a pout and he pointed at himself. “I’m not a big baby, I’m a big boy! You’ve said it yourself!”

“That sentence was basically a direct example of baby boy culture,” you muttered to yourself before shaking your head. “Anywho, what do you keep violently nudging me for?”

Jungkook pouted even harder, crossing his arms over his chest. Usually the action would make him appear bigger and bulge his muscles, but for some reason it just made his seem soft and squishy at the moment.

“Not until you say it.”

Sighing, you rolled your eyes at the childish Saeni. “Say what?”

“That I’m a big boy!” His green eyes widened cutely.

Oh my goddess.

You heard Tae struggle to contain a snort next to you.

You inhaled and closed your eyes, pressing your fingers to your forehead for a moment as you collected yourself. “Alright, fine. You’re such a big boy, Kookie.”

The male instantly uncrossed his arms and looked mighty pleased with himself as Tae wheezed and covered his mouth.

Jungkook’s face turned serious as he rose to his feet, grabbing your hand and pulling you up too in the process. “Come on, I want to show you something. Hop up.” He turned around and presented you his back.

Mhmm. Tell the girl with the injured leg to ‘hop.’ You mentally rolled your eyes but did as he instructed.

Securing his hands underneath your thighs, he made sure you were properly hoisted as you tucked your chin against his shoulder. Satisfied you wouldn’t be going anywhere, he began strutting off into the trees, not even giving you a chance to say a decent goodbye to the others.

Then you, or more accurately he, trekked through the forest, his steps quiet but hasty. It was getting darker and darker by the minute; the sun was finally setting and casting an aurora of colors in the sky.

You patted Jungkook’s firm chest twice as he stepped up and over a fallen tree and you giggled in his ear. “Is this the part where you take me deep into the woods and murder me?”

The green-eyed male shivered at the sensation of your breath ghosting against his neck before chuckling at you. “You’re awful cheerful over the thought of being possibly murdered.”

“What can I say? I love a good murder mystery.”

“I don’t think it would be much of a mystery since everyone saw you leave on my back.” Jungkook laughed again, the sound like music to your ears, and shook his head, which caused his burgundy hair and earrings to sway back and forth from the movement.

“Damn, that’s true.” You frowned and dropped your chin back onto his shoulder as a mass of leaves glided against your side. “Alright, don’t murder me then, there would be no fun involved.”

“I… you’re really fucking something else. But hey, do me a favor and close your eyes, okay?”

You did and he continued to walk for another minute, steps still silent and still not telling you where he was taking you. You heard him brush aside a few branches, making the leaves shake against each other. He took a couple more steps forward then softly told you to open your eyes.

You peeked through your lashes then gasped and shot your eyes open all the way as your back went ramrod straight. The two of you were on a cliff with a perfect view of the setting sun. The sky was like a watercolor painting; fading from a rich black, to a dark navy, to a bright red, and then a delicate orange. You could see the forest stretched out below you, still somewhat visible in the dying sunlight.

“Wow.” You gaped at the sight before you.

Jungkook smiled shyly. “You like it?”

You blinked in amazement and tapped his shoulder to let him know you wanted to be put down. “It’s so beautiful, how could I not like it?”

The Saeni eased you to the ground and watched as you walked to the edge of the cliff so you could sit down and swing your legs below you.

“Why did you bring me here?”

Jungkook laughed nervously as he joined you at the edge. “I, um, you went through a lot, so I wanted you to experience something nice.”

You felt your cheeks flush and you smiled warmly at the male as a gust of wind caused goosebumps to form on your skin.

Or maybe it’s not because of the wind…

Jungkook stared out at the horizon, the orange glow causing his green eyes to sparkle and his hair to appear pinker than ever.

“You know, I was really scared you were going to die. Especially after hearing you whisper my name. I thought that that was it. That you were gone. And I didn’t know what how to deal with it. I’m sure hyungs told you, but I sort of went crazy. Instead of being there for you, instead of trying to save you, I left and went on a rampage.” He sighed into the sunset. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

You exhaled slowly as you studied his features before grabbing ahold of one of his hands. “You don’t need to apologize. I’m alive. Everything’s okay.”

He smiled faintly but kept his eyes forward. “Regardless, I just want you to know that I’m sorry.” He laughed at himself weakly. “Fuck, I even had a dream that you died. That no matter what I did, you kept dying. Over and over right in front of me. It was just the two of us and inky darkness, but I could never reach you in time.”

“Hey, but you did. You tackled the draikensu before he could kill me. You got to me in time.” You scooted closer to him, so your thighs were touching, and you intertwined your fingers with his.

“I guess I did…” He paused for a moment then cleared his throat. “Um, so this is random, but Tae’s told you about his mark, right?”

You looked at him in puzzlement, wondering why he changed the topic to that all of the sudden. “Uh, the one his father gave him to share the draeva connection? That mark?”

Jungkook nodded and opened his mouth but hesitated and closed it. You felt his fingers tighten around yours a little as he let out a breath and opened his mouth again.

Then he told you the kiela had talked and unanimously agreed that they wanted to induct you as an honorary member of the kiela.

Your eyes bugged out. “Wait, WHAT!?”

He smiled at your outburst and raised his free hand to rub the back of his neck. “That’s what we were talking about when you woke up earlier; we were deciding who would give you the mark.”

“WHAT THE FUCK!? WHY DIDN’T YOU JUST TELL ME THEN!?” You yanked your hand out of his and fully turned your body to face him with both your eyebrows raised high.

Is that even possible!? Or allowed!?

It was getting so dark, but you could still make out the faint blush that touched his cheeks and he continued rubbing his neck. “We, uh, hadn’t decided on who would give you the mark yet and didn’t want to say anything until we did.”

“Holy shit, okay wait, so I’m gonna have a connection to a draeva? To Illain!? Oh my fucking-wow, I never-wow… but that’s a big deal, right? The other person loses some of their connection, so who would do that for me?”

Jungkook dropped the hand that had been rubbing his nape and turned to fully face you as well. “Actually, everyone was willing, but… we decided it would be me.”

You brought a hand up to cover your mouth in shock as he gave you a lopsided grin. You were speechless, touched, honored.

And Jungkook wants to give me the mark. He wants to share his connection with me.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you said, though it was muffled by your hand.

Jungkook snorted and peeled it away from your mouth but didn’t let go of your hand as you just blinked in incredulity at the whole thing.

“Um, can I ask why you?” You bit your lip as the wind picked up for a moment. “No offense, but why not Jimin?”

The male coughed at your question. “Oh, um… it’s because, uh…”

He avoided your gaze and started fidgeting; tapping his free fingers against his thigh, toying with the belt that held his dagger, playing with the pebbles on the ground next to him.

Cute.

“Because of…?” You inquired as you pursed your lips. “Is it because you’re my teacher or mentor or whatever?”

He abruptly stilled, his entire body tensing up. The only movement that came from him was the slow rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. Then, just as suddenly as he had stopped fidgeting, he brought his eyes back to you and just stared. You tilted your head to the side, trying to decipher what was going on in that burgundy head of his.

Not that I would ever be able to guess.

You dragged your bottom lip between your teeth as you studied him, and the action made his green eyes drop to your mouth. He let out a prolonged exhale and muttered ‘fuck it.’

Before you could blink, he raised his free hand, cupped your jaw, and leaned in.

Before you could think, he connected your lips harshly.

Before you could react, he moved back an inch.

It felt like the air was stolen from your lungs as his lips hovered above yours. The sounds of the universe shrunk until all that could be heard was the combination of your breaths and the thudding of your heart. You stared at him with wide eyes and his chest heaved up and down.

“Because of this,” whispered as he looked into your eyes.

Then he moved back in, attacking your lips with fervor. Your eyes instinctually closed while you tried to keep up with his demanding pace. Tingles erupted over your skin and you felt yourself grow dizzy. Whether it was from the lack of air or from the pure sensation of his lips against yours, you weren’t sure.

Dropping your hand, he tangled his fingers in your hair and tilted your head to his liking. He sucked on your bottom lip and pulled it between his teeth, adding just a hint of pain to the passionate pleasure of his ministrations. It made you softly moan, and you raised your hands to grip his arms and steady yourself. You felt the teasing of his tongue at the seam of your lips, and you immediately granted him access. You didn’t even attempt to take control. You just let him dominate you however he pleased. He groaned into your mouth at how easily you succumbed to him, and the sinful sound made you desperate for more.

More of his lips.

More of his tongue.

More of his touch.

More of him.

The hand that cupped your jaw moved higher, so that he held the side of your face. Suddenly, the harshness of his lips softened, and he slowed down. His kisses becoming longer and gentler, allowing you to catch your breath. Though it did nothing to lessen the shivers of pleasure racking your body nor the warmth surging within your heart. Nothing could quiet the explosion of sensation that was flowing and shuddering through you. Not when he was touching you, kissing you.

Then, he placed one last lingering peck on your swollen lips and pulled back. As he retreated and you struggled to control your breathing, the entirety of what he just did hit you. Hesitantly, you opened your eyes, not sure of what just happened.

SERIOUSLY, WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED!?

“W-Why would you do that?” You asked him shakily, partially because you were still breathless and partially because you were so scared he would hurt your heart… again.

He leaned in and rested his forehead against yours. “I…I lied.”

“Um…” You responded in a small voice. “Lied about what?”

He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths before staring straight into your eyes.

“I lied about not being attracted to you… fuck, sweetheart, you have no idea what you do to me.” You stilled as he tightened his fingers in your hair and swept his thumb across your cheekbone. “You’re the most beautiful flower I’ve ever seen… and every single day you make me want you even more.”

previous [16] — next [18]

taglist: @cookied-dreams @apurpledheart @james-herondale023 @lorengarcia-yut @kittycuptea @toddsgirl27 @a-feeling-of-euphoria @treatpeoplewithkindnesshoe @kthdior @taigaajin

[localkatshelter]

Okame’s Underbelly: Humiliation |3rd|

(ShinsoxOC) 

Katsumi’s POV (localvillageidiot#0870) and Shinso’s POV (hecker#8339)

Warning: Contains alcohol consumption, heartbreak, suicidal ideation, emotional manipulation/quirk use

Preview:

| “I feel like she just wants me to disappear...” he said from underneath his arm. “Maybe I’ll give her what she wants.”

He mumbled the last bit to himself, probably not intending for me to hear it, but I did. I felt his sadness morph into something more morbid. Oh shit, he’s taking this really hard. Before I realized what I was doing, a question had already escaped my lips.

“Do you really think that?”

“I don't know...”

I activated my quirk immediately after he responded. |

Beautiful Artwork By: Casentine

1st Chapter - Anticipation 

(Katsumi's POV)

I tapped him on the shoulder. Edgelord grunted, looking over at me through hooded eyes. The physical contact sent a jolt through me as my quirk processed the whirlwind of emotions that were coming from him.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine…” His voice was strained, almost as if he was trying to convince himself that it was true.

As soon as he opened his mouth, I could smell the soju. Oh he’s drunk drunk. I tilted my head to the side in an effort to look him in the eye.

“You sure? You don't seem fine to me.” And my quirk is screaming that you're in pain right now. I’d always hated how I couldn't leave someone once I felt that they were hurting, even when it was a total stranger and none of my business.

He chuckled sourly. “Is that so? Then maybe you’re right…” he slurred, smiling half-heartedly.

“So,” I paused, glancing down towards his feet. There were four bottles of soju on the ground, two totally empty and a third about halfway finished. “What’s the matter?”

“The person that cheated on me took it upon themself and decided we weren’t worth fighting for anymore.” He stated bluntly. He lifted his head and looked me straight in the eye. “Isn’t that crazy?” he asked, laughing bitterly.

“Oh wow, I’m sorry.”

He laughed again and shrugged. “They’re probably fucking as we speak.” he said casually and took another swig of his soju and placed the fourth next to him preemptively.

I could feel his heart crack a little further with every word. I couldn’t help but reach out and rest my hand on his shoulder to comfort him. I felt his entire body flinch and tense at my touch. There was a short silence before I heard him speak in a soft, broken tone.

“F-fuck...” His hands gripped the bottle of soju tightly, squeezing until his knuckles turned white.

I could feel him struggling not to cry. His anger and pain began to tug at my chest as the desire to take it all away crept up on me. I unconsciously began to rub the back of his shoulder. I could feel him break beneath my hand. He started to cry, letting out short sobbing breaths. He tried to hide his face in the crook of his elbow.

“I fucking hate this crying bullshit…” he choked out while he rubbed his eyes with his sleeve clumsily.

“There’s nothing wrong with crying. Keeping it in ends up hurting you more in the long run.”

He nodded reluctantly, his head still buried in his arm. I kept rubbing small circles on his shoulder as he regained an even breath.

“I feel like she just wants me to disappear...” he said from underneath his arm. “Maybe I’ll give her what she wants.”

He mumbled the last bit to himself, probably not intending for me to hear it, but I did. I felt his sadness morph into something more morbid. Oh shit, he’s taking this really hard. Before I realized what I was doing, a question had already escaped my lips.

“Do you really think that?”

“I don't know...”

I activated my quirk immediately after he responded, pulling at his emotions lightly to make him feel a bit more open towards me. He’s so drunk, manipulating his emotions is too easy. It’s like taking candy from a baby.

“She let me go so easily...” he said softly.

I continued to pull the self-destructiveness from him little by little until I had absorbed it all, leaving him with a duller version of the anguish that had been there before. Once I let go of my hold on him, he seemed to get more of a grip on himself. He straightened up a bit and I removed my hand from his shoulder. I watched him begin to fidget uncomfortably with his soju bottle, now almost empty. He started to eye the last bottle.

“You know, I’m not feeling too great myself either.” I said while casually reached around him to grab the unopened bottle next to him. “Okame not performing anymore kind of bummed me out. I basically only ever came to The Squeaky Wheelhouse to listen to their pieces. Now I don’t know what I’m going to do on Friday nights... Wow, that sounds so lame out loud.”

I laughed at myself, trying to lighten the mood a bit and put him at ease. I could feel his anxiety and embarrassment, likely because he cried in front of me, a perfect stranger. It’s no big deal and totally not his fault. If it’s anyone’s, it’s mine, but he doesn’t need to know that. He seemed to contemplate my dilemma for a moment.

“Fuck that guy.” he concluded with a hiccup.

“Cheers to that.” I laughed a bit as I opened the stolen soju bottle and raised it to him. Our bottles touched and we both took a long swig.

“My name’s Katsumi by the way.”

“Shinso, glad you stumbled upon my sorry ass.” He held his hand out.

I shook his hand, taking note of his firm grip and the roughness that I had admired earlier.

“Speaking of stumbling on you, what are you doing out here anyway?”

“I’ve been waiting for a bus home but it’s been taking fucking forever.”

The bus? I took out my phone to check the time.

“Um... it’s almost 1 a.m. The last bus came, like, an hour ago.”

“No way,” He started to laugh. “I’m an idiot, holy shit”

“Can I call you a cab?”

“No, my parents cannot see me like this.” he said in a lighthearted tone.

“Well you definitely can't stay here...” I trailed off. Am I really about to offer to take a complete stranger back to my apartment? I mean, he seems trustworthy and I don’t get any malicious vibes from him.... “Why don’t you come back with me? You can sleep it off and go home in the morning.”

“Are you sure? I’m just some scary man.” he joked.

“Oh yeah, that mess of lilac hair is absolutely terrifying.” I teased back, getting up.

He laughed, both shocked and amused by my retort. “You’re funny, also fuck you.”

I let out a laugh and motioned for him to get up off the bench and follow me. He tried to stand and stumbled a bit before I caught him by the arm. He steadied himself but I kept an arm behind him to be sure he wouldn’t fall over. We started to walk back to my place together making small talk and joking with each other a bit. It was surprisingly easy to get along with Shinso. We kind of just, clicked. It was actually really nice. Once we got back to my dorm apartment, I grabbed some extra blankets and a pillow to make up the couch for him.

“Just crash here.” I told him, pointing to the makeshift bed. I turned and walked over to the television. “Do you want me to turn this on for you?”

I looked over my shoulder and saw that Shinso was already knocked out. I smiled to myself. He looks almost cute the way he's hugging that pillow. I went into my bedroom, being sure to lock the door behind me. Sure he’s cute and nice, but he’s still a stranger....

I woke up the next morning and he was gone. The only trace he left behind were the blankets, neatly folded on the couch.

(Shinso's POV)

I didn’t remember much of last night and I didn’t really want to. I just remember me feeling like shit, drinking my heart out, and making a fool out of myself in front of a stranger. I remember them being super nice but even so, I dipped out of their apartment as soon as my aching brain drifted into consciousness again. I had to use my phone to see where the hell I was, but once I did, I googled the nearest convenience store. I kept swallowing hard, trying to keep the nausea at bay. I felt so much like death that I debated drinking again to feel better. But I reluctantly decided against it and instead did the right thing, which was to chug water, eat something light, and suffer a bit. On the bus home, I tried to stop my mind from wandering towards what had happened last night. I can’t say I was successful. In conclusion, this whole heartbreak thing was not going to be easy.

The rest of the summer went by in a pitiful blur, in result the next semester seemed to approach very quickly.

I shoved the remainder of my belongings into my shitty little car before settling into the front seat for my brief drive to campus. I typically only brought the essentials so one trip sufficed. It probably seemed unnecessary to live on campus when I’m not that far from it, but living on my own was essential for my general sanity. Also, I much preferred living with my close friend Denki. He shed a light on my abyssal self. It was a pleasant contrast, even though I’d never openly admit it to him. It was an inside joke at this point for me to pretend that I was indifferent about his company. It had been that way since the beginning.

When I pulled up, Denki was already waiting outside the dorm building with a stupid grin on his face.

“How’s my shining baby boy?” he beamed.

I shook my head, laughing at his typical ridiculous term of endearment, and put my hazards on before stepping out of the car. He ambushed me with a hug, which I stiffly returned. He pulled back and looked me over.

“You look so handsome right now, I could kiss you.”

I chuckled, playfully pushing him away.

“Help me move my shit inside, will ya?” I ordered jokingly.

“Aye aye, boss. That’s what I’m here for.”

He saluted before hulking a huge bin of my junk over his shoulder. He’s a lot stronger than he looks; I learned that the hard way when we trained together. It was a nice outlet for stress and a way to be active without being too deliberate about exercising. It was also fun to just fuck around with a friend and kick their ass...in a friendly way of course. I won’t lie, there were a few times where I left practice more sore and beat up than he was. By a few times, I mean more than half the time. However, that percentage was slowly tipping in my favor, so there’s no use in prematurely developing an inferiority complex. Well, I already sort of have one, but for a completely separate reason. I have always been told that my quirk left me vulnerable because it heavily relied on trickery, if it failed it would leave me vulnerable physically. Except they usually didn't say it that nicely. It was often intended to be condescending. I tried to not internalize the not-so constructive criticism but when you hear something over and over again…well, it starts to stick. To push back, I started combat training with Denki recreationally. He doesn't need to know the details of why I suddenly sprung the idea on him a little over a year ago.

We lugged one round of my things into our snug room, which Denki already managed to decorate with album covers. Besides his PC and collection of questionable manga, his side wasn’t that much more complex than I predicted mine to be. Messiness was a whole other subject, but as long as he kept his stuff on his side, I couldn’t give a shit. As we returned to my car, a girl in front of the entrance caught my eye. She was staring me down, looking confused. I assumed she was looking at my ridiculous gravity-defying hair like most people do and went back to grabbing more things out of my car. Before I could gather too many items, I heard a pleasant voice call out behind me.

“Hey, Edgelord.” it mocked in a friendly tone.

My brows pinched together in confusion as I turned around to follow the voice. It belonged to the petite brunette girl who was staring at me. I looked over at Denki to see if he recognized her, but he looked just as baffled as I was. Well, maybe baffled wasn’t the word. He was uncontrollably snickering at the nickname the stranger gave me. She’s bold.

“Um, hey?” was all I could come up with.

“Funny running into you here. How’ve you been?” she inquired genuinely, continuing to speak to me as if we were familiar with each other.

Huh? How’ve I been? Where do I know her from?

“Uh, I’ve been good.” I responded, now trying to mask my uncertainty as to not be rude to this person that obviously knew me from somewhere.

“Well that's good to hear. You’ve been feeling okay?” She smiled, her eyes questioning me earnestly.

I began to shift uncomfortably at the intensity of her caring nature towards me. Especially since I honestly had no idea who she was. Shit, does she know me as Okame? That doesn’t make sense because how would she know? Is she a friend of my ex? That would be so fucked if my ex really ruined my anonymity for something I care so much about. I know she’s spiteful, but I didn’t think she could be that malicious. As these questions shot at me in rapid-fire, I studied the girl before me, trying to find any sort of familiarity. Despite having a more circular face, her jawline was decently pronounced. She was of olive complexion with a light peppering of freckles concentrated on her round nose. She had dark, arched, brows which complimented and contrasted her otherwise soft features. Her eyes were upturned, embellished with a set of thick lashes. Her irises were a striking amber shade...wait that’s familiar. That detail pulled at a vague memory in me. Her head tilted with increasing puzzlement. Fuck, how long has it been since she asked the question?

“Y-Yeah, I’ve been feeling fine.” I stammered.

She giggled at my rushed response. I felt Denki’s mischievous glare on me. I glanced back at him only to catch an annoying wiggling brow.

“Oh good. So, do you need any help moving in? I got bullied into volunteering anyway, so I might as well be of some use.” She tugged on the logo of her shirt and rolled her eyes with a scoff.

I couldn’t help but laugh a little at the idea of a “moving in crew” uniform.

“Nice, but I think w-”

Denki poked me in the side, administering a slight zap. I clenched my jaw, muting a grunt, before throwing a deadly scowl his way.

“What my colleague means to say is that he’s super weak and could really use your help moving in.” Denki interrupted.

I closed my eyes, rolling them behind my lids, while taking a deep breath and accepting his wishes. I learned early on that once Denki made his mind up on something, you’d be wasting your time if you didn’t give in right away.

She chuckled at Denki’s commentary before gesturing to the car.

“You got it. Is this everything?” She grabbed a box and held it against her hip.

I nod in response and we head upstairs. I kept to myself for the most part, still mulling over the mystery of who this girl was. In the meantime, Denki and ? were getting along just fine, surprisingly well for just recently breaking stranger status. She found him hilarious which was concerning because I didn’t need him getting an even bigger head about it.

“Who knew Edgelord would have such cool friends. I honestly thought he was a figment of my imagination until I saw him again today. I mean, who even likes grapefruit soju?” Denki and Mystery Girl cackled in unison.

Grapefruit soju...fuck. I knew she looked familiar. She was the girl from that night where I completely lost it. After ruminating on it the day after, I never really looked back, because I assumed I’d never see her again. She’s seen me at a low point and I was not comfortable with that. Denki noticed me going still for a moment and he gave me a weird look. I took a deep breath to compose myself.

“Yeah, I think me and Denki got the rest.” I interrupted plainly.

She paused, shooting me a baffled look which morphed into annoyance before settling on a neutral expression. I pretended not to notice the myriad of emotions travelling across her face. She clearly understood the intention behind my sudden curtness. I could feel Denki’s glare on the side of my face.

“Oh, okay cool. I’ll be on my way then.” she concluded lightheartedly and turned to Denki. “It was really cool meeting you though! I’m glad we got to talk for a bit. Hopefully I’ll see you around.” She flashed him a bright smile before heading to the door.

“Hold on there, stranger! What’s your name?” Denki called out.

“Oh, right! It’s Katsumi, but you can call me Kat, everybody does.”

“Hi, Kat! I’m Denki, but you can call me anytime.” He topped off the corny line with some finger guns.

She laughed softly to herself. “Okay, you got it.”

She brushed right past me and made her way out the door, disappearing around the corner. After waiting a few seconds, Denki closed the door behind him, leaning his weight on it.

"Dude," he exhaled heavily "What the fuck was that about? You got all weird at the end."

"Did I?" I muttered dismissively while unpacking one of the bins.

"Uh, yeah" he exasperated at this apparently obvious observation. "She obviously knew you from somewhere so there has to be a story. You're a shit story-teller but I'm a whore for tea so my standards are very low."

I moved on to a new box, tuning him out.

"Hellooooo? She clearly cares about you to some extent so there's history." He emphasized the last word. "She's definitely a lot nicer than She-Monster." He casually threw in his charming nickname for my ex.

My body stiffened, and I turned away from him and began to fidget pointlessly with office supplies on my desk. Denki has known me long enough to pick up on my subtle tells no matter how hard I try to suppress them.

"Something happened." He instinctually adjusted his voice to a more solemn tone.

"Yeah…" I sighed, giving in. "I guess I accidentally left that part out about my summer."

"Sure you did." Denki rolled his eyes, already scrolling through our texts. He defeatedly threw his phone on the bed, obviously failing to find any hints as to when it happened.

"But regardless," He hopped on my bed, despite having his own. "I'm all ears." He gave me a warm smile, patting the spot next to him on the bed.

[izzy-b-hands]

Sledgefu: A quiet, cozy night in with the cats. Maybe Snafu is feeling a little insecure bc Gene’s spending a lot of time with new friends at school? He feels a little left out bc Gene is always talking about them, but Gene doesn’t realize it until he really slows down and really listens to/looks at Snaf while they’re snugged up on the couch. If you want to 💞💞💞

Ooh yes I love it!! Thank you for sending this in!!!

Also, ended up putting together a playlist of what I listened to as I wrote this, so if folks are wanting some extra atmosphere as they read, here it is: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2z3p8nXomzQRkWjvY3PK5a?si=uK7XQngWTtOg7UlG5dUm_A 

Gold Still Glitters is below the cut!

He knew Eugene wouldn’t make dinner, he hadn’t for the past couple of weeks. Busy at the university library, studying away with a few classmates he’d gotten to know better as the semester had gone on. He’d even met a few of them now, Ted and Michael and a particularly intimidating man who, despite having the highest grades out of any of Eugene’s friends, insisted on going by his nickname of Flea. It was given to him in the Army, and was actually short for Flea-Brain, but Eugene had talked him into using just Flea. Good-hearted boy couldn’t bear to call a new friend something like that is what it was, and it made Snafu’s heart swell. That was his man, being so sweet!

But his heart hurt as he sat at the table alone, set for two on accident. It was simply his habit now, and he hadn’t even realized he’d done it until he sat down to the gumbo he’d made. 

Delilah hopped up onto the extra seat, her little nose delicately touching the bowl meant for Eugene, and that broke him. 

“This is stupid,” he scolded himself as the tears rolled. He wiped them away in between spoonfuls of his dinner. “Isn’t it, Delilah? I should be happy your papa is out there makin’ new friends. It’s a good thing.” 

She meowed softly, and he gave up on the food. That felt equally silly, putting it all away right away after he’d worked most of the day to make it, but his appetite was gone. 

Better was sitting in the bedroom with Delilah on his lap, the other cats scattered on the bed and Ack Ack with his soft nose batting at the hand Snafu let drop down to where the dog was sat on the floor. The radio played, and seemed desperate to drag him down even as he tried to clamber back up, as they rotated through love song after love song, mixed with more melancholy hits. If not for the cat sleeping on him, he’d have turned it off. 

Despite the whirring wheels of his mind, he found himself drifting off when the front door suddenly slammed. 

“Snaf? Sorry I’m so late!” 

Eugene’s voice echoed down the halls, but Snafu couldn’t bear to answer it. 

“Snafu? You here?” 

Delilah woke and looked at him, as if asking why he wasn’t responding, but he didn’t make a sound.

“Merriell?” 

He listened as Eugene’s footsteps came up the stairs, then to the bedroom. 

“Thought I heard music,” Eugene said as he opened the door. “What happened?” 

Snafu shook his head. He loved Eugene, but as wonderful as it was to see him, he wanted nothing more than to be alone until he got over his feelings, the stupid frustration that told him to call Eugene on it, on getting home so late and missing dinners, on only having time for homework and friends but little for his husband. But Eugene hadn’t done anything wrong, and it wouldn’t be fair to yell and shout and fuss at him for doing what every other student was doing, trying to learn and work and live and balance it all. 

“You’re crying,” Eugene said softly, and strode over to the bed, carefully moving the cats in way of his sitting next to Snafu. “Something happened. Tell me; I’m here to listen.” 

Delilah purred as he lifted her to his shoulder and buried his face in her fur, hoping to hide the next burst of tears. 

“Okay. I don’t know what this is about, and I want you to tell me, at some point. But if you aren’t ready yet, that’s okay. Tomorrow’s Saturday though, and I’ve got nowhere to be. No extra classwork, no study sessions, no extra hours at work. Thought maybe that would mean we could stay up a little together. Do some reading, or just sit and relax, whatever you might want. If you want,” Eugene said, gentle as anything, and it made the tears fall even harder. 

“I gotta borrow your dad, Delilah,” Eugene continued as Snafu set her down beside him, and she meowed at the loss of lap. “Y’all come on down and join us if you want, okay?” 

A few meows and a tiny woof from Ack Ack answered him as he turned off the radio, then led Snafu downstairs, and Snafu knew they’d probably stay put. It was late now, nearly eleven at night, and the pets had their routine they didn’t like to deviate from, especially for bed time. It would also mean they wouldn’t get their bed back for the night as the cats would take it over, but there was always the guest bedroom. 

“How was your day?” Eugene practically chirped, as cheerful as the birds he loved watching, though the bags under his eyes told a different story, or at least screamed a need for a decent night of sleep. 

“Okay.” 

“Just okay? You get a full day off of work and it’s just okay?” 

Snafu shrugged. “Made gumbo. Spent most of the day in the kitchen, ‘cept for headin’ out to the market for a few things.” 

Eugene stopped and stared at him as they reached the living room. “That’s all?” 

“I don’t know,” Snafu snapped in spite of himself. “I cooked, and I tried to clean some while the supper was simmering, and the damn back door knob was loose again so I fixed that, and I kept the cats and dog in their food and cuddles for the day, and cleaned up the litter boxes and Ack Ack’s corner of the backyard, and-” 

He sighed, exasperated. “I kept busy. I don’t know what you want me to say. I know I’m not nearly as busy as you get, but I tried to make my day off something useful.” 

Eugene took a deep breath, and Snafu braced himself. Eugene didn’t deserve that yelling, but he hadn’t been able to hold back, and he’d deserve whatever Eugene tossed back at him. 

Instead, Eugene took his hand and kissed it. “I meant, did you do anything for you? Read something you like, listen to a good record? Hell, just take a nap?” 

“Oh,” Snafu said, and shrugged. “No. I didn’t do any of that.” 

“Sounds like we got stuff to do tomorrow then, to catch you up on some relaxin’,” Eugene smiled. “Come on. Come lay on the couch and be lazy with me.” 

“It’s gonna be midnight before we know it,” Snafu said. “Not that I don’t want to, but you need to sleep-” 

“There some law against fallin’ asleep on the couch with my man?” 

Snafu grinned. “No, there isn’t.” 

“Well then, I say we’ve got a reservation over here,” Eugene tugged gently on his hand, pulling him till they both fell back on the couch together, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I missed you today.” 

The lump in his throat was back again, the tears threatening to fall again, his heart hurting again as they adjusted to lay more comfortably on the couch, and he tried to respond without his voice breaking. “Missed you too.” 

“You gonna talk to me now?” Eugene murmured as they snuggled close. “C’mon. You know I’m not gonna let you sit all melancholy like y’are right now. Out with it.” 

“…I shouldn’t be upset by it. Because it’s a good thing,” Snafu sighed. 

“Okay, we’re getting somewhere!” Eugene’s voice rumbled in his chest, pressed as close as they were, his back to Eugene’s chest, Eugene’s arm draped over him. “But maybe this good thing isn’t good for you?” 

“It’s good for someone I love, so it should be good for me too,” Snafu replied. “Because I love them, and I want good things for them.” 

“Well that’s…good,” Eugene said, then chuckled. “But that doesn’t mean whatever this is couldn’t still upset you somehow. Can’t help how things make you feel, sometimes.” 

“I know. But…” 

“You can tell me what it is, you know that,” Eugene whispered. 

“Alright. I…it’s been a little difficult. Without you home at night. Eatin’ dinners alone, goin’ to bed alone even some nights. And then when you do come home-” 

Snafu cut himself off with a sigh and resisted the urge to turn and bury his face into Eugene’s chest, and not say anymore. “When you do, as much as I love hearing about your new friends, and I do, I really do, I swear it, sometimes it feels like that’s all we talk about, and then it’ll be so late it’s already time for bed and then the sun rises and we do it all over again and I miss you.” 

He turned then, and focused on the beat of Eugene’s heart near his ear as he continued. “I’m proud of you in a way I can’t even put words to, because it just overwhelms me, you goin’ back to school and all. And I’m happy you’ve made friends, because you should! It’s good. But sometimes I miss that little bit of extra time we had, for just us. Even though I know that we’ll still find that time again, in one way or another, because things can’t stay the same forever, but gold still glitters even after you melt it down and make it into something new.” 

Eugene was silent, and Snafu fought the urge to break away from him and run upstairs, to avoid the storm that his words were surely going to bring. Granted, Eugene had never been that way with him, but other lovers had in the past, and he never wanted to make Eugene that sort of upset, but if anything would…perhaps this would.

“God, Flea was right. I always tell him how mad I am that he’s the smartest asshole outta all of us in the classroom, and now I gotta tell him he was right again, and he’s smartest about things like this too.” 

Snafu moved his face out of Eugene’s chest. “Things like this?” 

“He told me tonight, that he could tell last time we were all hangin’ out together that you seemed like you felt left out, and that he couldn’t believe that the man I described to them could be the same as the quiet and sad-lookin’ man I’d brought with me that day. And I figured maybe you were just tired or had a rough day at work and I didn’t ask…and I should have asked. I’m sorry, Snaf.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” Snafu said as he carefully moved Eugene’s arm and sat up. “I’m bein’ a damn fool over this. I’m a grown man, actin’ like a child because I’m not gettin’ enough attention.” 

“No,” Eugene protested softly, and sat up so he was right beside him, their thighs touching and Eugene’s hand reaching for his. “You’re my husband, and you love me, and so you’ve been missin’ me and I didn’t notice, and that’s not right. I been watchin’ you go about your night after I get home, but I wasn’t paying any attention, and I should have been.” 

“I gotta do the same for you,” Snafu said.

“You have been! Who else would listen to me blabber on and complain about school, talk for hours about the dumb shit those boys at school tell me? You’ve been lookin’ right at me, keepin’ your eyes trained on me to keep me feeling happy and loved, and I looked back but I looked right through you,” Eugene replied. “No more of that. I promise.” 

The tears slipped down his face yet again before he could stop them, and he could hear Eugene’s soft sound of confusion as he closed his eyes and chuckled. 

“Happy tears, I promise. I’ve never had anyone I was with react like this. I was waitin’ for yellin’ and carryin’ on, so this is,” Snafu shook his head and laughed. “This is so reassuring and wonderful and I…I just love you so damn much.” 

Eugene’s arms wrapped around him, and held him tight. “I love you too, and I’m gonna show you just how much more often. Starting tonight.” 

“I think you did just now,” Snafu said. “But if you’ve got something else in mind, you know I don’t often say no to you.” 

“We’re gonna have to kick the cats off the bed for it,” Eugene smiled and kissed him softly.

“You mean pick them up and carry them into the guest room, and drag Ack Ack’s bed in there since he likes sleepin’ with ‘em so much?” Snafu asked against Eugene’s lips before kissing him back, letting his hand move to wrap around Eugene’s neck, a thumb caressing his cheek. 

“Exactly,” Eugene said as they parted lips, foreheads still touching. “You ready for bed?” 

“I am. Now that you’re here with me,” Snafu sighed, and held Eugene’s hand tight as they stood and headed for the stairs. He couldn’t believe he’d ever gotten so lucky, that the universe had given him so sweet a man. 

But he was so happy to have him, to be his forever, and to know now more than ever, that Eugene was his always as well.

[evrthefanatic]

soulmark part 1 | Elijah Mikaelson x OC

Pairings: Tyler x OC, Matt x Elena

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence

Word Count: 3,873

Read on AO3, FF.net, Qoutev, Wattpad

A/N: Hello there! If there’s anyone there! So I made a fic and I’ve been consistently updating it so far, I thought I’d share it here! I hope you guys like it! 

Ever since she could remember, the strange lettering was engraved into her wrist, pale enough for no one to notice, but rough enough in the edges to be traced. It wasn't until the tragic accident of their parents did Alyssandra begin to uncover the secrets behind the runes.

What would happen in the show if two human doppelgangers were running around?

PROLOGUE | Drowning

It was dark out. Cassie's 'Me & U' blared out loud from Tyler's stereo. From where she stood, Aly saw some of her friends motionless on the grass, either too drunk or fast asleep. Aly glanced to her side. "How's this for a party?" Tyler smirked.

"Pretty good," she answered. The lake offered them a cool breeze, and it carried along with the chatter from the other party-goers. "Pretty tame," she added in afterthought.

"Well that's for next week," he smirked, grabbing her by the waist. "For when we win the championship."

Aly giggled and playfully pushed him away. " If you win the championship." she teased.

"Come to my house this Sat then." he shrugged, "It'll be way more fun than this one. Maybe I can convince you how good of a player I am."

Aly snorted, rolling her eyes. "I can't." she tells him, "It's game night. Mom and Dad are coming home from this huge Medical Convention from Seattle,- and Dad's leaving again next week so I can't really miss it."

Tyler frowned. "How will we have some fun time then?" he whispered to her ear, kissing her there. Aly felt herself flush- her breathing instantly laboring as he nibbled and sucked.

"Next week?" she answered weakly. "They'll be gone anyway."

Ty kissed her, pulling her body flush against his and Alyssandra finds her hands going through his hair. He bit down her bottom lip and she gasped. "We can have some fun time now," he said suggestively.

Whatever reply Aly had in mind was disrupted as Caroline's voice filled the air. "Lockwood!" she whined, "stop manhandling my best friend in front of all of us!"

Aly flushed even more, but she smirked at the looks everyone else gave them. She pushed Tyler away, grinning upon seeing his clearly frustrated face. A chorus of laughter filled the campsite.

"I gotta go anyway." she gave him an apologetic smile, kissing him by the cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Instantly as she got away, Caroline hooked her arm around hers, bursting into giggles. "Have you seen Elena?" Aly asked her.

Caroline ignored her question. "That was so hot. He looked like he was about to eat you. I wish I had a boyfriend like that."

"He's not my boyfriend." Aly denied, rolling her eyes. "Yet."

"Ugh." Caroline flipped her hair. "I just want to have sex. Hot and scandalous. Is he as good as they say he is? I want all the details."

Alyssandra couldn't help but laugh at her comment. "Pretty good," she answered, not at all intimidated by her comment. Caroline shot her a look. "Sometimes aggressive-" she adds, "Takes what he wants, kind of guy."

"Damn." Caroline wistfully sighed. "I want one."

"You'll get one," she reassured her. "Have you seen Elena? I haven't seen her since earlier"

"She's probably knocked out somewhere," Caroline muttered. "You know, with Prince Charming Matt."

Aly giggled at her comment.

"Bonnie already went home, by the way."

"I didn't see," she replied. "Wanna carpool home?"

"Fine by me." Caroline shrugged. "I guess it's just me tonight." she sighed once more. The two girls ceased their walk upon hearing a familiar sniffle and sob a little deeper within the woods. They gave each other identical looks of worry as they followed the sound. "Is that-?"

Elena's face formed immediately to a familiar pout upon seeing them. She threw herself between the two girls, instantly wrapping her arms into a hug. "I broke up with Matt!" she cried.

And that's how they spent the night at the Forbes residence.

Water. Endless water. She was drowning. Her lungs screamed at her, and she desperately clawed her throat. She couldn't breathe, every breath she took burned her. Her heart rattled against her chest. Each second feeling more like her last. Her arms reach out to her father, who struggled against the hold of the belt on of their car before her world faded into black.

But not for long.

She coughed out, crying in hysteria as soon as her eyes opened. Distinctly, she heard sirens fast approaching. Aly quickly sat up, head looking around like a lost dear, to her side she sees that she's just near Wickery Bridge and-

The sweet smell of pancakes and honey awoke her. She blearily opened her eyes, taking a sharp intake of breath. Her heart refused to calm down, and she couldn't help but trail her finger along the familiar mark on her left wrist, welcoming the comfort that usually came along with it. Aly distinctly looked around her surroundings, feeling slightly relieved upon seeing the familiar walls of Caroline's room. Outside, she hears some chatter and plates being moved.

Alyssandra grimaced upon seeing herself in the mirror. Her curly hair was a wreck, it's normal to loose curls had bunched up in her sleep. The signature headband she always wore had grazed her neck, leaving a mark. They must have gotten even more hammered last night, especially with the news of Elena and Matt breaking up. She sighed, choosing instead to tie her hair into a bun, not bothering to fix it until she had come home. By the time she had reached the kitchen, her dream had been long forgotten.

"Morning sleepyhead." Her twin sister, Elena, greeted her. The duo looked exactly alike- completely identical in features, looks, and height. Their differences lied on how they dressed and presented themselves. Aly was more preppy in style, and Elena was more laid back. The biggest difference was how they chose to style their hair, with Elena getting it straightened every other month and Alyssandra just letting it be.

"You look disgusting," Caroline stated. Aly grimaced, whole-heartedly agreeing with her. "Are you okay?" the blonde immediately followed up. "You kept trashing and muttering last night."

Aly blinked, taking the cup of coffee Elena offered her. "I had a bad dream." she shrugged. Caroline wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"The good kind of bad?"

"The wrong kind of bad." she corrected. Though, now that she thought of it, Aly could hardly remember the nightmare at all. Aly switched her attention to her sister, who still looked disheartened and depressed from the breakup. Which was odd, since SHE was the one who broke up with Matt. "How are you holding up?" she asked.

Elena gave her a small smile. "I'll hold," she answered. In truth, Aly knew that her sister was going to break up with the jock sometime soon. She knew exactly why. Elena had known Matt since they were children. Their relationship lacked the excitement, the thrill, often seen in newly formed couples. It was because they were never 'new' at all. If Aly was gonna be honest with herself, she would say the same about her and Tyler.

"Bonnie's asking if she should come over." Caroline's voice broke Aly's musings. "I told her we can meet up at your place later tonight."

"Sounds fine by me." Elena gave her another, albeit timid, smile.

Glancing at the time through her phone, Aly ate one big pancake before dragging her and Elena out. "We'll see you later Care!" she called out, fully intent on getting home and fixing herself up first before heading to school.

The news of the breakup had apparently shaken the whole campus. People sent Elena looks as they walked through the hallways, and her sister maneuvered their walk to make sure they avoided any jock-looking guy that might say the word 'Matt' as they passed. The odd looks were mostly ignored, bar the pouty look that Elena had permanently etched to her face. It seemed to be enough to ward off any advances, cheerleaders, or otherwise.

The two sisters soon separated as they got to their respective classes. Although both girls were intelligent and hard-working, both wanting to go to the same college together, it was Aly who took the extra mile to her studies and extra-curricular. Never wanting to have a dull moment in her schedule- she had signed up in multiple clubs and participated a lot in the Founding Families activities, even going as far as volunteering every now and then along with Caroline.

Her classes passed by smoothly, or as smooth as they can be. Once again she had aggravated her history teacher, Mr. Tanner, before remembering that the man can very well destroy all of her hopes and dreams with a single B. She had wisely shut up, thinking that AP History in her Juniors next semester would be worth the shame of being 'outsmarted' by the man. Someday, she idly sneered in her mind, he'd get his ass rightfully kicked.

In the cafeteria, she finally opened her phone that kept on buzzing in her pocket, and she couldn't help but laugh a little at Ty's rants about Matt and Elena- and how it was ruining his mood. She sent him a bunch of emojis in return- snickering at his attitude.

"Are we gonna hear another break up from you, too?" Bonnie asked as she sat beside her. Bonnie Bennett completed their little circle of friends. A beautiful black brunette who was fiercely loyal to her friends. Oftentimes it was Bonnie who'll get them out of trouble when it arose and she never failed to speak her mind when she wanted to.

"Ty and I are just friends," she said in sing-song.

"Can you like, explain to me how that works?" Caroline demanded, taking a seat as well. "I never pegged you as friends with benefits type."

Aly put her phone away. "It just happened." she said, "We didn't have a label and it-well- I guess it's gonna keep on happening?"

"You have a way with words." Elena mocked, taking a seat as well. She looked remarkably better than she did in the morning. "You should run to the hills. We've known Tyler our whole life and he's not exactly boyfriend material."

"Agreed." Bonnie sagely nodded, pointing her fork up and down. "You'll find better. You never know, you might find a handsome, daring, hot, and chiseled man just around a corner." Aly snorted, giving Bonnie a look.

"Oh you bet." she giggled. "Just not right now."

"I need a boyfriend," Caroline whined. "Maybe I shouldn't have broken it off with Dustin a couple of months ago."

"Gross," Elena complained. But Care nudged her, blonde hair bouncing as she pointed her head to a bunch of red-varsity jackets wearing guys approaching. As if in by cue, Elena's face morphed into an epitome of sadness. Matt led the campaign, and Aly and Ty's eyes met- she looked away immediately, focusing instead on her food before she burst out laughing.

The cafeteria sobered, spectating the debacle about to happen. Bonnie consolingly held Elena's hand- who stared at her food, lower lip wobbling.

"Elena," Matt started.

"She doesn't want to talk to you!" Caroline quickly ended.

Matt ignored her. "We can talk about this," he continued. "Come on, babe."

To Alyssandra's complete surprise, Elena actually faced him. "We can't, Matt," she said, meeting his eyes. "It's over."

The silence seemed to have fallen all over the cafeteria. "This Saturday." he mustered up, fighting the monstrous awkward silence. "Tyler's throwing a party-"

Ty raised his hands in an instant, giving Matt a look that said 'don't bring me into this'. Matt ignored this too.

"- and maybe we can go together? Just this one last time," he said, practically begging. "Please, 'Lena."

Her sister took a deep breath, giving him a small smile. "I'll think about it," she answered. That seemed to be enough, as the flock of jocks immediately went away after that. As soon as they did, chatter once again began in the cafeteria.

"Damn." said Caroline, "I kinda feel sorry for him."

Aly snorted, she quickly covered it up when Elena glared at her. Elena wasn't actually going to the party, she mused. Tyler's party overlapped with their family's game night. "Yeah," Aly tried to agree, "Poor Matt."

Bonnie giggled.

Except Elena didn't seem to be in with the laughs, there was this guilty expression on her face. One that Aly knew all too well. "Come on-"

"I'll talk to him," she said firmly. "The entire thing's my fault, anyway."

"How is it your fault?" Caroline argued. "You should be able to break up with a guy whenever you want!"

"Totally!" Bonnie agreed, "But why do you want to talk to him, anyway? I thought you already had last night."

"I didn't." Elena finally admitted. "I kinda just ended things off." she shook her head, sighing. "I just can't be with him anymore, you guys. I just don't feel like things are going right. Don't get me wrong, Matt's amazing. It's just- it's just not right."

Caroline gasped. "O my god! He totally scared you off!"

Alyssandra laughed at that, remembering Matt's promises of a future filled with mini Mattlenas. "He totally did. 'Lena has a point though. We're only in high school."

"He deserves an explanation." Her sister continued, moving a stray strand of hair from her face. "It'll just suck if I dump him for no reason. I'm not that kind of girl."

"Fine, talk to him," said Alyssandra. "But you gotta remember that we have game night this Sat. You better not miss it."

"I'm not going to." her sister answered. But Aly was quick to realize that she was lying, Elena always wore the same pinched expression every time she lied. Alyssandra still hoped that she'll change her mind, so she didn't push it.

In another life, Aly might've stopped Elena from sneaking to Tyler's party before game night. In this one, she ignored her sister sneaking out of her room through the window after she had lied to their parents about being sick. Completely avoiding game night altogether.

Instead, Aly focused on her four very-present family members as they meticulously played an aggressive version of UNO. Jeremy was currently winning, and Aly felt herself giggle hard over their mom's angry glare. Miranda and Grayson Gilbert were both Doctors at the local Mystic Falls hospital. It wasn't unusual for them to leave their kids alone, sometimes for weeks, trusting that the three siblings together would have enough brain cells to keep the house and themselves together.

Their trust is well placed.

Or at least Aly has convinced herself that it was.

The trio wasn't the type to cause trouble, especially Jeremy. Their brother was as relaxed as they come. Often he'd stay out to hang with his friends, either playing baseball or painting out. Aly and Elena were often out as well. Before, the two sisters would take turns in cooking, and the trio would rotate with the chores. It stayed that way until Elena had almost accidentally burned the house down while using the oven, their parents had then left cooking to Aly's hands whenever they left.

A resounding 'ding' broke the concentration the four held. Miranda was quick to stand up to retrieve the freshly made pizza. Aly felt her stomach grumble in delight as the aroma flowed into the living room. Making sure to carry her cards with her, Alyssandra followed her mother. Fully intent on helping her out. (and maybe grab some bites as well)

"Do you know where Elena went, Alice?"

The question caused her to scowl. Their mother didn't seem to be all too-bothered with Elena skipping game night (it wasn't the first time). She watched Miranda cut the pizza into pieces, immediately grabbing one when she finished.

"She went to Ty's," she answered, taking a bite. "Matt didn't take the break up well. So she decided to apologize- or something."

"Or something." their mother echoed, a light smile on her face. Aly really thought that she was too lax. Her mind wondered if she'll be the same once she had children on her own but she instantly grimaced, burying the thought deep in her mind. She was only 17 after all. Her entire life was still waiting before she could ever begin to settle.

Alyssandra helped her mom bring the food to the tense living room. Grayson's stormy blue eyes were locked against Jeremy's brown ones. Both held their cards against their chest. The tension broke when Grayson grinned, putting a +4 card down in triumph.

Jeremy groaned. "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

Her brother sent their dad a dirty glare, grabbing four new cards from the deck. Aly threw their dad a grin, plopping herself down next to Jeremy, not so discreetly looking at his new cards as she went by- earning a yell from the youngest Gilbert.

It was Miranda that won the game by the end. The four had watched a movie before effectively calling it a night. She begrudgingly sent a message to her sister, telling her that lights had gone out and she was free to go home. She was fast asleep before she could read Elena's reply.

Aly choked, eyes wide. Grayson tried to reach out to her. She couldn't stop herself from gasping even if she wanted too. A pang of familiarity resonated within her, and with it came fear. She tried to reach out, finding it harder and harder to breathe- her lungs burned. Her windpipe felt crushed. The last thing she saw was her father's struggle against the seatbelt before her world faded into black.

Her mind kept telling her that it was a dream. That she should just wake up. But she can't. Aly gasped awake, shooting herself up- coughing. Where was she? Wickery bridge? Another bubble of uncontrollable fear buzzed through her, making her cry in hysteria. What-

Aly was violently pushed awake, without even realizing, she was dragged up. In the back of her mind, she hears a voice cry out.

"Aly wake up!"

She groaned in response, hastily pushing her brother away, glaring. "I'm awake!" she snapped, holding a hand up her chest to calm her rapidly beating heart. Her hand shook, and it took her a moment to realize that her entire body was shaking as well.

Alyssandra groaned once more, pushing her younger brother away with a glare. "Yeah," she murmured, sitting up. She blatantly ignores her racing heart. However, it seems like life has other plans. Jeremy immediately pulls her up.

"Get dressed," Jeremy said, breaking Aly out of her haze. He says, he has this wild look in his eyes. He looked scared. "we have to go."

That's when she noticed the sirens blaring outside her house. All of a sudden, the dream she just had gone to the forefront of her mind, waking her up. The events of her dream were still fresh on her mind, and it overwhelmed her. Aly stood there in her room, frozen.

"Hurry up!" Jeremy frantically pushed her. "Mom, Dad, and Elena are in the hospital,"

Alyssandra moved without thinking, her body suddenly going in auto-pilot. Jeremy rushed her on, but his voice barely registered in her head. She didn't even bother to completely change her set of clothes, settling into an oversized jacket and hair tie. Outside their home stood Deputy Forbes, Caroline's mother, and there was a pained expression on her face.

The officer offered them a tight, sympathetic smile and didn't reach her eyes. Aly fought the urge to scream. "Let's get you two to the hospital."

She could barely recognize the streets as they quickly drove by. Alyssandra's mind had gone to an override, jumping to her dream to the hospital. In the background, she could hear Jeremy and Liz talking.

What had just happened? How could it happen?

Words like accident, lucky, and Elena echoed in the car. Their sister, her twin, survived. But both Grayson and Miranda were dead.

Their parents were dead.

How could things change so quickly?

They were just having game night a few hours ago.

They were at the hospital before she even knew it. Jeremy got out of the car first, rushing in. She saw Aunt Jenna immediately embrace him to her arms, letting him cry and sob. She followed behind- her throat felt so tight. Liz gave her arm a comforting squeeze, leading her inside. Oddly enough, Aly didn't run to her aunt's arms, letting Jeremy have his comfort. Instead, she swallowed the bile that had lodged itself in her throat.

"Elena?"

The first thing that Aly noticed was the crying.

Throughout their entire lives, she was used to the sound of Elena crying. Her sister had always been the more sensitive one out of the two, and it didn't take a lot for waterworks to come. But never in her life had she heard her sister sob this hard. It was agony, deeper than any emotional cut that came before it.

Elena was barely covered with a towel, bawling into her hands, she was absolutely soaked from head to toe. And every cry from her throat shook her entire lithe frame.

Aly felt her heart wrench painfully. For a moment, she felt like she was still dreaming, there was no way this was actually happening. Their parents couldn't actually be dead. Right? It had to be a joke.

In a second, her arms had wrapped itself around her twin. Holding her tight, ignoring the tremor that seemed to overcome both of their bodies. "It's okay." It's not. But the words were out before they even registered in her head. "We'll be okay," she tells her, firmly this time. Her head felt unbearably light, and she jumped when another set of arms had settled in their embrace.

She couldn't breathe.

The sounds of her family crying seemed to echo in her mind. And Aly's arms fell loose to the sides, another person grabbed her arm- Liz Forbes again. She didn't smile this time. Guiding her body into a chair instead, Aly fell to the seat immediately. Blank. Her mind has gone blank. She stared at the image of her family ( what's left of it ) holding each other in a tight embrace. Aly shook herself, taking a harsh deep breath.

Like a shadow, Aly followed the Deputy out of the room, and she can see the concerned glances of everyone present. Mystic Falls was a pretty small town after all, and the hospital was where her parents had worked in. Their Doctor, her parent's co-workers, idly explained to her what happened. And Alyssandra found herself nodding along, signing this- signing that. I'm so sorry, he had said. But really, she couldn't see what he was sorry about, it's not like he drove them off the bridge. It was an accident. Accidents happen all the time.

They gave her a heavy piece of paper. At the top right corner, it said ' Mystic Falls Memorial '. It was a fill-up form.

"You don't have to do this right now, Aly." Liz again. In the back of her mind, Aly can hear the annoyed voice of Caroline, angry for her mother always going about her business.

"It's alright Ms. Forbes," she answered. Jenna was still consoling her siblings. "I can do this now."

The adults around her gave her a set of tight smiles and as she walked away, she could hear the words poor girl, the responsible one, and such a tragedy.

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