#one lady did cough directly in my face yesterday

[anonprotagging]

ohhhh I am awake but at what cost skdfjkd

[sashi-ya]

{+18} - Law x Fem Best Friend ♥ CH.2

♥ Daily living with the Heart pirates crew AU  ♥ Spoilers after Dressrosa Arc. Law´s backstory.  ♥ Female reader. Little physical description. Everybody is 18+, canon ages.  ♥ TW: Nightmares related to PTSD. Little NSFW. no further warnings. If you think I should include some feel free to tell me ♥Thank you for the likes and follows, I appreciate it them so so much! If you wanna know when I’ll be updating the next chapters, you can follow me on Twitter @LawIsMyWaifu, come interact I love to have mutuals that love Law and One Piece as much as I do ♥

Word count: 4.1K

» List of parts: {CH1}  {CH2}  {CH3}  {CH4} {CH5} «

Chapter 2.

The sound of his low, raspy voice resonated all over my head, making my body react instantly. I gasped as I felt a strike of pleasure travelling down my stomach to in between my legs. Closing my eyes, unable to move, I didn’t want to move, I wanted him to keep whispering, to kiss my neck… “Hahahaha, I’m sorry, I’m just fooling around, your face, you look astonished Y/N-ya”, he said while laying back on the bed, laughing. I chuckled as I stood up brushing my clothes as if I was trying to fix them. “Stop it, I’m not into that you ass. Goodnight”, I said trying to dissimulate how agitated and embarrassed I was.

Almost running, I left the room, directly to mine, holding on my hand my underwear. I jumped to my bed resting violently on my back. “WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?” ... a little time passed until I passed out.

Hard knocks on my door woke me up. “Vice-Captain!! wake up! breakfast is ready!!!” Clione shouted from the corridor. “God damn how many times I have to tell this whole crew I fucking hate being awakened with shouting?” I mumbled annoyed, covering my face with the sheets.

I was brushing my hair when I remembered my “memory box” for some reason. Opened my drawer and found the little velvet red box that holds my “treasures”. Inside, there is a photo of my parents with me when I was 7, happy, eating some ice cream with them. It was taken during one of “the white parades”, on Flevance, before everything turned into hell. A little blue bow that my little sister used to wear, some photos of Law, Bepo, Shachi, Penguin and me when we were the only members of our crew. And, a necklace Law made with some seashells as a gift for my 15th birthday, were also inside.

I got watery eyes while looking at it, “I must be getting old”, I thought, “I got emotional over the memories” ... laughed and put everything back to its place.

“Morning..” I said, greeting the whole crew that was already devouring their breakfast. I noticed Law wasn’t there, so I had to ask. Uni told me he was in the control room preparing for the arrival at the next island. I took a few pancakes and some tea and headed to the control room to ask my captain if he needed help.

“Good morning, doc”, I saluted him. Law that was seated facing the controls, turned the chair to look at me nodding. He has more dark circles as always, so I asked him, “Oi, did you sleep last night? are you feeling sick again?”. “I’m ok, I didn’t get much sleep last night. I got caught up with the book I was reading”, he answered with his usual unfriendly tone. “Yeah, right” I answered back, rolling my eyes, and proceeded “Let me know if you need something before we get to the island”.  Left the control room and went back to my room.

I knew him well to know he hadn't slept because something was worrying him, and not because he was reading the old comic book of “Sora, the warrior of the sea against the evil Germa 66”. But hey, Law never shows any emotion besides annoyance if he is not sick.

A few hours later, the submarine got to the shore of some winter island, and we all got ready to accomplish our assigned tasks.  “Ok everyone, we will meet here at 7 pm, is that clear?” told my crew members, everybody agreed and headed to the island.

The temperature was pretty low, and it was snowing. Law was wearing the long black coat with yellow dots and our Jolly Roger that he used to wear at Punk Hazard, his hat and of course the Kikoku over his shoulder. I love when he wears warm clothing, he looks so cozy, hiding his mouth behind the collar. (He does it so his lips don’t get chapped with the cold breeze, haha).  I don't like to wear the boiler-suit when we get to explore islands, so I decided to wear a long yellow coat with a hood, also with our crew's Jolly Roger emblazoned on the left side of the chest.

We asked a few civilians where to find a pharmacy and headed to the destination following their instructions. Law didn’t say much during the walking, as he normally does.

The island seemed a little bit deserted, yet it had picturesque streets, full of colour that stand out from the snow.  It has cobbled lanes, some canals of crystallized water, there were wooden houses and shops with little lights that garnished their architecture giving the place a romantic aura. The scenery behind the city center included big snowed mountains and a big castle over one of the highest peaks.

I saw a boutique with some cute sweaters on display that caught my eyes and I wanted to try them on. “Law, would you mind if I enter here? I want to buy a new sweater.”, I said. Law looked at me and made a gesture with his hand as he was saying to go ahead.

While searching for the sweater I like on one of the clothing racks I saw through the shop window that a few kids approached the captain. The seller asked me if I needed some help, so I stopped looking at him and l directed my gaze to the girl in the shop. So, I forget about him.

After buying two cute pullovers, we continued walking through the picturesque streets.

When we finally arrived at the pharmacy shop, it seemed like it was closed, but the door was open, so we entered. I rang the bell over the counter and waited for someone to show up. Law walked in front of me and had his hand over his sword. I knew he was alert and trying to protect me even if he didn’t say a word. I didn’t think we could be in danger, yet he never fully relaxes when we are outside. After all, he is one of the most wanted pirates of our generation, so it's understandable he trusts no stranger.

After a minute or so, an old lady approached the counter from the inside of the store. She seemed a little weak and perhaps a little sick. She coughed, covering her mouth with a handkerchief, and then greeted us. “Good afternoon, how can I help you?”, she asked. Law handed her a list of supplies we needed, and we waited. “Oi, don’t you think she looks bad? I mean, she is probably sick, should I ask if she is ok?”, I told Law who gave me a disapproving sight. I rolled my eyes, and said, “Fiiiine…”, “You know that I hate you rolling your eyes at me, you did it yesterday and now too. Stop it.” I looked at him with an “excuse me?” face and while I was about to spit an insult to him the granny appeared. “I’m sorry, I put on the bag some of the supplies, but I don’t have everything you need. We are short on medicines'', she informed us and started coughing harder. “Excuse me, Mrs. Are you alright? are you sick?”, I asked as she seemed to lose composure from all the nagging coughing. Law, that hated when I don’t give a fuck about what he had just said, gave me the look of death. “Oh young lady, we are pretty much sick, a strange illness is hitting the island. Even the only doctor in town fell ill. The orphanage, though, is getting the worst part. All of the kids are bedridden”, as she said, the memories of Flevance and the amber lead disease hit me.

Law's expression changed to a more compassionate one and asked about the symptoms they were experiencing. He might be serious, he might not want to get involved in a lot of things, but he is a true doctor. And he can't let people die if he can help.

We decided to visit the orphanage in hopes of helping the sick people, so we asked the old lady to give us directions to it. She said it was pretty far from the city center and told us her husband would take us there with his cart.

"Thank you so much for offering your help, young doctors", said the old lady's husband that later told us his name was Gerald. The cart was pulled by two brown percheron horses that opened their way through the white landscape.

We had a small talk during the journey, until Gerald asked, "how long have you been together? Are you already married?". Despite the freezing cold weather, my cheeks turned to fire, and I could sense Law hiding his head even more into his coat and hat. Almost as if clarifying that we were no couple was a life or death situation I said, "WE ARE JUST BEST FRIENDS!". I realized I almost shouted and felt mortified. Gerald looked at us with a little smirk and kind eyes, excusing himself for the mistake.

A few minutes after we arrived at the orphanage. It took us almost 30 minutes to get there and the sun was starting to set on the horizon.

When we entered the place, the situation was worse than we thought. There were kids and adults lying on the ground, some of them shivering, others coughing while others were straight unconscious. A few nurses were working in order to maintain them, but the situation had clearly surpassed them.

Immediately Law and I started working. While I helped the nurses, Law used his ope ope no mi power to scan the bodies of the sick people.

We got to the conclusion that what they were suffering was a type of bacteria that caused the respiratory symptoms and the fever.

During our duty, there were times when our eyes interlocked, and we smiled at each other. I wouldn't say we like people suffering, but, we certainly enjoyed working to save lives together.

A few hours passed since we arrived there, the sun was already set, and outside it seemed as if a snowstorm was beginning. I've lost track of time until my portable Den Den Mushi started to ring. "Oi, y/n, where are you? Is Law with you? Are you alright? We've been waiting for you on the shore! It's 9 pm already and we were supposed to meet at 7!", shouted Shachi from the other side of the line. "Oh my God I'm sorry I forgot to tell you!... you see …" I explained to them what we've been doing and that we were probably not going to return to the submarine in a few more hours.

The kids and the other people began to get better and those who were helping there offered us some food that we accepted happily.

While we were having dinner, Gerald got back from outside, who's been in the forest collecting some firewood. He informed us that the weather was getting really bad so coming back to town would be pretty dangerous.

Law and I agreed that staying there for the night was the safer choice.

One of the nurses, Sister Alley, told us we could spend the night in the cabin next to the orphanage. "I'm really sorry guys, I wished we had a better place for you, we owe you so much. The cabin has a fireplace, Gerald would start a fire to keep you warm”, she said. We both smiled at her and thanked for it.

We walked some meters through the forest until we started to catch sight of a wooden cabin. Despite being a strong pirate, I’m the queen of the clumsy people, so I slipped off with what I assume was an ice patch on the already snowy ground. I was about to hit the ground when Law grabbed me by the waist and saved me from a few bruises. His face in front of mine, the feeling of being safe on his arms, I wished it has been eternal. But the romantic moment was destroyed by Law mocking me. “It must be the devil fruit; how come you are so clumsy? Be careful”, he said, and I told him to shut up, this time I wasn’t embarrassed, but I was almost angry at him.

“Here we are, let me help you with the fire”, Gerald said, opening the wood door that creaked as it moved. The inside felt cozy, there were a few cushions and pillows on the ground next to the fireplace. There were no separate rooms, so in the middle of the lounge there was some kind of mattress with a few blankets over it. Our “host” asked for forgiveness about the lack of separate beds, but Law intercepted him and said, “It’s ok sir, we are grateful to have a warm place to stay until tomorrow. If you need help with any patient during the night, just please tell us”. It might be ok for you, damn Law. Was I supposed to sleep with him? - I mean, I wanted to, but, he was still my best friend, and those thoughts should have been erased.

Gerald wished us a good night and returned to the main building.

I hung my coat and as I love to explore, I started to do so around the little wooden house. The kitchen seemed really equipped, so I grabbed a kettle and some cups. Gerald was kind enough to give us some tea bags, so I thought making some tea was a great idea.

Law was next to the fireplace, wearing only a sweater and his jeans. Apparently he has already hung up his coat and his white spotted hat. I saw him once more with a lost sight that seemed to contemplate the firewood.

Looking at him with my face resting on my arm that was over the breakfast nook, I got lost worshiping his profile. I’ve always adored his upturned nose, his spiky black hair, his facial hair, the contrast between his grey eyes and the tanned skin. How come he has always been so handsome, but I’ve never seemed to fully realize?.

The whistle of the kettle intensified as the water started boiling, but I was so into admiring my best friend's beauty that I didn’t notice. Law turned to me and woke me up from my reverie shouting “Oi, Y/N, the kettle!”. My stupid smile quickly erased from my face, and my whole skin turned red. “Sorry”, I said straight away and turned off the burner.

I served two cups, noticing that the tea has an amazing scent. I believe it was hibiscus mixed with some other spices, perhaps some cardamom and maybe a little hint of clover. The smell of the tea mixed with the slightly one from the logs burning, was wonderful.

I walked to where my captain was, “Here, I think you may like it”, I said and handed him a cup. Our fingers brushed softly when grabbed the tea, he looked at me and said “Thanks”. I sat not so near him over one of the cushions and sipped a little bit of my tea. Law looked at me and stood up from his place. I could sense how awkward he felt when he made a little pause, and then walked away.

Why is he leaving? Did I make him feel uncomfortable?, I asked myself trying to hide little stings of pain on my chest that traveled to my throat. Somehow I felt like crying, and when my eyes started to get slightly watery, Law approached me placing his hand over my right shoulder.

I turned my face to him, looking up with a slightly pouty face. I was about to cry, and I didn’t even know why when I noticed a blue little box on his hand.

He sat next to me and said, "Do you remember when we were 15?, that day when I gave you that necklace I made myself for your birthday? I looked at him confused but I answered, "yes, of course, I got it on my memory box, I'm afraid to wear it outside the polar cause it might get lost and I wouldn't forgive myself if I lose it". He was now looking at the little box moving it around nervously and finally said "I got you a better one". He handed me the little box still not looking at me.

"A present?? OMG Law, thank you very much!" When did you buy it??" I almost shouted in excitement while opening the box. Inside there was a fine rose gold necklace that has a little anatomical heart figure as a pendant. I grabbed it and admired the beauty of the jewelry I had in my hands. The heart had a little red stone crimped on it, that shined with every movement.

"Law, this is too much! It must have cost you a lot of Berries, I don't deserve such a fine jewel!, thank you so much", I expressed with a big smile on my face.

"You do deserve more than this, you know. I'm glad you like it", he said, a little embarrassed. “When you were buying the sweaters, I asked some children there if they knew a jewelry store, turned out it was just around the corner”, he confessed.

“Thank you so much, it is just perfect! You know how I adore hearts; they remind me of you.. “Doctor Heart Stealer”” I almost shouted, realizing I have said too much…

I tried to put it on my neck, but I couldn’t clip it right, so I asked him for help. He stood up, kneel at my back and passed from behind the necklace around my neck.

Some branches hit the window violently as they were suffering the merciless wind of the snowstorm outside.

He struggled a little and finally fastened the collar and when he did, the electric power went off. The fireplace was the only source of light, the dance of the fire created figures with shadows and highlights all around the walls of the cabin. We remained silent, maybe a little scared or even surprised, but enjoying the sound of the weather and the creak of the fire.

He was still behind me, and after a few seconds he placed a soft kiss on my back that sent a shiver through my spine. Once again I was unable to speak, did he… did he just kiss my back?.. Before I could say or do something Law stood up and headed to one of the windows. “The storm seems to be even worse than earlier; don’t you think?”, he said, trying to device something through the window.

I couldn’t focus on anything else than the kiss he softly planted on my nape, minutes ago.  He suddenly yawned and walked to the mattress that was in the center of the room, on the floor. He then took his jeans off and hopped inside the bed, naturally. I remained on my spot, contemplating his actions. “How could he be acting so normal?, I’m right here. He just gave me a necklace, kissed my skin and now he just goes to sleep?” I said to myself, still with a confused expression on my face.

“Oi, aren’t you coming to bed?”, he asked me, freely. “Yes… give me a second”, I said, and ran to the bathroom. The toilet was pretty tiny and basic, but enough for me to hide for a few minutes. “Come on, Y/N you slept with him two nights ago, it’s ok, he is like your brother, it’s ok…” I thought, trying to calm myself down.

I finally left my hiding place and headed to the mattress. Law was lying there, he took off his sweater, probably while I was in the bathroom, so he was only using a white tight undershirt, that molded his torso anatomy. Some blankets were covering the under part of his body from his hips. He had his forearm over his eyes, covering them with his neck stretched back.

I bite my lip, as a reaction for such a tempting scene. I was enjoying it, watching him breathe peacefully. I started feeling hot, so I took off the sweater but not my jeans and approached the “bed”.

I thought Law was already asleep, so I got in bed trying not to wake him up. I muffled myself up with the sheets. I remained still, hearing the snowstorm, fixing my eyes on the wooden ceiling, as the memories of my childhood flooded my mind. It must be the snowstorm, the wind, the cold that triggered these memories. eventually I fell asleep.

“No, stop it, my family, leave us alone!!!!”, I screamed. “Y/n-ya! Y/n-ya!, wake up!” said Law, pulling me out from the terrific oneiric world I was submerged in. I got lost into his eyes, and remained there with tears streaming from my eyes, rolling into my cheeks. Law was holding me close to his body around his arms. “Are you having those nightmares, again? why didn’t you tell me?”, he asked, worried. “This is the first time in ages, I think it must be the storm, perhaps the orphanage, the children…”, I expressed amid tears. My best friend brushed his tattooed fingers through my hair, moving it out of my face, and then wiped the tears from my cheeks.

“Oi, do you remember what happened when I gave you the first necklace?” he asked, trying to distract me. A feeling of warmth invaded my insides, suddenly I felt happy. “I do...” I said, laughing timidly, and continued, “It was my first kiss”. He smiled back at me, and said, “Mine too”.

For a second we both closed our eyes. I was grabbing the pendant with my left hand cherishing it and the memories of our younger days when we kissed for the first time. We haven't had much time to think about love while striving to survive so we forgot about it, letting the days, months and years pass, leaving the experience as a mere child’s play.

Suddenly we started laughing, Law didn't let go of me, and our faces were pretty close. “Everything's better when you laugh, I hate it when you cry, it makes me so sad…” he said, rubbing his thumb over my right cheek. I stopped laughing, as he got even closer. Almost as if the point of our noses were about to touch. I could feel the warmth of his breath over my lips, and he did too. My heart started racing, and the only thing I could hear was the blood pumping on my ears. I wasn’t moving, I wanted him to kiss me, I wanted to kiss him… I just didn’t care that he was my best friend, I just needed him to kiss me.  What is taking him so long? Why am I not moving if I wanted this more than anything?. After a good minute, that felt eternal, he exclaimed “Fuck it”, and plant the sweetest kiss over my lips. A feeling of happiness filled my insides, I’ve never been so joyful in ages, it felt the same way as the first time. I was like a teenage girl experimenting love for the first time. Both smiled still with our lips pressed. I doubted for a second if succumbing to my deepest desires was the right thing to do until he decided to turn the cute kiss into a more passionate one. From then on, the desire I’d been accumulating inside of me took control of my body…

We kept on kissing; Law slid a hand under my shirt timidly caressing the skin of my tummy. The kisses migrated from my mouth to my neck, mixed with little bites that surely would turn into hickies tomorrow.

“Law…” I gasped when his hands reached my breasts. “What?” he replied, whispering next to my ear and pinching one of my nipples in between two fingers…

Chapter 3

Ch1: Link

[honeymoonjin]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 9.3k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:

Sick of unsatisfying hookups, boring relationships or the company of your own hand? Apply today for the chance to be on bangasm.com’s very first reality show! Seven attractive young gentlemen will be vying for your choice of who is best in bed. All from different backgrounds, these men claim they’ll be able to rock your world, so don’t hesitate! Apply now!

Congratulations! You’ve been accepted as the Lady in the first season of The Gentlemen.

<- prev || masterlist || next ->

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: cursing, mentions of explicit sexual content, mentions of blood. the results of the fan favourite vote poll are at the end of this chapter.

banner designer @jamaisjoons​ | thank you sfhs babies i love you 3000

ELIMINATION

On the seventh Day of every Week in the game, Y/n’s elimination vote is released for 48 hours following the post of the fic. Please note, this is NOT the Fan Favourite vote, which has already happened.

Vote closed. Thank you for participating!

DAY FOURTEEN

There’s something exciting and indulgent about sitting apart from Taehyung and Jimin, yet sharing secret glances and muffled smiles.

You’d had to leave Taehyung’s room at different times, you and Jimin sneaking back to your respective rooms to change out of his clothes so it didn’t look odd.

As the eight of you gather in the lounge, sleepily curled up with mugs of coffee or lying back against the couch for a few more moments of peace, the familiar faces of the others send a pang of guilt through you. Like you were lying to them. Omission is a type of lie, you suppose, but you try and smother the feeling. You’re allowed to be selfish.

Especially when it made Taehyung and Jimin look so happy.

Taehyung, who was almost always cheerful much like the puppy you saw last night, now looks like he can’t even contain it, his toes wiggling and eyes gleaming. Jimin, who on the other hand tended to be a little stiff and wary during these meetings, seemed more at ease than he’s ever been in front of everyone.

Could the others really blame you for wanting to see them happy?

You bite down hard on your tongue as Sejin arrives, the final piece in the puzzle. Maybe they could. You count your lucky blessings you don’t have to pick a favourite as well as someone to eliminate. Staying objective and making a decision tomorrow would be hard enough.

“Are we all ready?” Sejin checks, consulting with his watch to ensure it was in fact nine on the dot.

Catching everyone off guard, it’s Jungkook that speaks up, sitting beside you with crossed legs. “Ready, PD!”

The rest of you go still for a moment of surprised silence. When was the last time Jungkook had sounded that chipper? You’d found it strange when, being only the third one downstairs after you and Jin, Jungkook had neglected the last empty couch in favour of sitting beside you. Still half asleep, he’d exchanged pleasantries and basically face-planted into a cup of hot chocolate, inhaling the steam like his life depended on it.

Now, though, he seems more alert than most of you, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as he waited for the meeting to start.

As you glance around, everyone seems equally shocked and relieved, except Jin, who just smiles quietly. You send the eldest a questioning gaze, but he just shrugs.

“Alright, today we just need to cover the prompts, Y/n’s Bangasm Bomb, and then we’ll finish off with the audience vote for fan favourite. Sound good?”

At the mention of fan favourite, Jungkook straightens up, knee jiggling. Your heart goes out to him. Not only had he had a rough time lately, but he put so much effort in to his prompt, and you can’t help but hope he gets it. He could use some cheering up, though he seemed cheerful again all on his own. “I’ll cross my fingers for you, Doctor Jeon,” you promise with a soft smile.

He glances back at you, eyes glittering. “You will?”

“Of course.” Out of the corner of your vision, you feel two sets of eyes on you. “You did well.”

He wrings his hands, gaze dropping. “I wasn’t even top three last week.”

You shrug lightly. “Then you’ll be most improved.”

When he grins, teeth poking out cutely, your shoulders drop in relief. “If I win, I’ll take you somewhere really fun, I promise!”

“Alright,” Sejin cuts in, breaking off your conversation, “our theme was dynamics and roleplay. Just like with last week, we’ll go through each of the guys and get Y/n to guess. Should be pretty easy. And we’ll see if anyone will be taking over the bunkrooms. Namjoon and Hoseok, you’ll be returning to your rooms tonight unless you failed your prompt again.”

Namjoon and Hoseok, squished up on either side of Taehyung, lean over him to high-five after the older one cheers.

“I’ll miss it,” Hoseok confesses, “but I missed my own bed even more. Namjoon; you’re welcome for a sleepover anytime.”

“A sleepover sounds fun,” Taehyung answers quietly, but Hoseok trills and cups his cheeks, inviting him too.

Across the other side, to the left of Jin and Yoongi, Jimin stiffens and instinctively sends you a look of uncertainty. Your lips part, but of course you can’t say anything in front of everyone.

Instead, you give a minute shrug and lean back. Taehyung had already spent the past two weeks being relatively free with his affections, and it seems unfair to get upset by it now. Especially when you were still having sex with other people.

Like a bucket of cold water down your back, the decision you made last night comes into clarity. You couldn’t go out on dates. You couldn’t really kiss or hold hands in front of the others lest they find out. And you couldn’t even be faithful to them. What exactly made declaring your feelings and choosing to be together any different from how you were before?

Before you get too deep into your thoughts, you notice the room has gone silent, everyone staring at you. “Hm? Sorry?”

Sejin’s pointing to Jin expectantly. “Could you state your guess for what Seokjin’s prompt was, Y/n?”

Jin’s face is weirdly unreadable, eyes not really focusing on yours. You struggle to process enough to recall the answer. “Um, poolboy.”

Jin remains silent, making Sejin cough awkwardly. “Yes, poolboy and client was his prompt. Congratulations, Seokjin, you didn’t explicitly tell Y/n your prompt and successfully completed it.”

On the other side of the room, Taehyung’s eyes fly wide, before his shoulders slump, blushing as Hoseok quietly teases him.

“Yoongi?”

You clear your throat, feeling weirdly strung-out, like your attention is in a million places at once. Get through the meeting, then you can chat with Min and Tae. Just stay focussed. “Yoongi was, like, an animal?”

“Predator and prey,” Yoongi explains smoothly, finally starting to look a little less zombie-like. “And I made sure we were in view of the cameras outside. The ones by the gazebo.”

Sejin nods, choosing to sit on the coffee table instead of just standing in front of you all. “Right. Congratulations, Yoongi, you also successfully completed your prompt within the rules. Jimin’s one?”

You’re pretty sure every person in this room could guess his without a second thought. “Stripper.”

Jimin blows you a teasing kiss with a wink, and you try not to look too endeared, heart leaping at the soft look that hides behind his flirty act. “I hope you all enjoyed the show.”

Beside you, Jungkook goes oddly stiff, face falling. But before you can ask him about it, he’s taking a deep breath and putting on a smile again, albeit a smaller one. You frown as Sejin congratulates Jimin before turning to your couch and indicating it’s Jungkook’s turn.

“Doctor and patient,” you hear yourself answer easily, but you find yourself still worried about him, remembering what he said about Jimin yesterday. Maybe he wasn’t as cheery as he was making himself seem today.

A similar look of worry flickers across Jimin’s face at Jungkook’s odd response, and you decide that once the meeting is done, you’ll ask Jungkook about it. Maybe get him to talk to you privately, or everyone so you’re all on the same page. Anything so that you can resolve the strange upset Jungkook seems to have.

“...his prompt. Now, Namjoon?”

“Husband and wife,” you offer up reflexively, grateful of the warm albeit shy smile Namjoon sends you in response.

“Now, Namjoon and Y/n, I’m aware you spent a significant amount of time together in the rec room. Of course, you can retain your privacy, but I do need to ask if Namjoon explicitly told Y/n his prompt in there.”

Looking like a teacher’s pet being told off, Namjoon’s eyes go wide. “I didn’t!”

Sejin lets out a quick laugh, holding a calming hand up. “That’s fine, that’s all I needed. Congratulations, Namjoon, you’re out of the bunkrooms.”

Taehyung looks nervous when Sejin’s stare rests on him. His eyes keep darting around to the other men like he’s waiting for their reactions. When Sejin asks you to guess the prompt, you hesitate. Something about how uncomfortable he looks gives you pause. “She doesn’t have to guess,” Taehyung offers up, “and you don’t have to say it. I already know I lost.”

Sejin gives him a look of sympathy. “The editing team did catch you telling Y/n directly which means you’ll have to stay in the bunks for next week, but unfortunately the nature of these meetings does require each prompt to be revealed to the group.”

You can see the puppy behind Taehyung’s eyes as he rounds them, pouting up at Sejin. “Really?”

“We don’t have to give details,” Sejin offers up shortly. “And none of these prompts will ever be things anyone has on their hard limits list, so please don’t think anyone hear will be in any position to judge it.”

This seems to ease Taehyung’s worry significantly. “Pet and owner,” Taehyung offers up shortly. “And I lost because I told Y/n. Time for Hoseok.”

Even as your heart aches to jump up and go to him, Jimin also shifting in his seat restlessly, you see Hoseok quietly wrap a hand around Taehyung’s elbow and Namjoon rest his head tentatively on Tae’s shoulder. You settle back, forcing yourself to remember you and Jimin aren’t the only ones that care for Taehyung.

Sejin clears his throat and gestures to Hoseok. “Lucky last, I suppose. What’s your guess, Y/n?”

You think back to Monday night. Hoseok teasing you throughout the day and then tying you up at night in the prettiest ropes, feeling entirely under his control. You’d called him Master. “Master and sss….sub?”

Hoseok smiles sweetly, his voice honeyed. “Almost. You and Jungkook were my pretty little slaves, princess.”

In perfect synchronisation, the others turn their heads around to you and Jungkook, sharing a couch. “I remember now,” you state weakly as Jungkook shifts on his spot.

Sejin looks distinctly uncomfortable with the sudden turn, wincing at Hoseok. “Well, congratulations because you also successfully completed your prompt. Anyways, that’s that done, time for the Bangasm Bomb. As you all probably recall,” Sejin explains, sliding off his glasses and wiping the lenses with his shirt as he goes, “the requirement was that Y/n had to stay in a different bed every night otherwise she’d be in the bunkroom. Luckily, she managed to do so, so Taehyung is the only one required to stay there.”

Taehyung shrinks, bottom lip sticking out in disappointment and Jimin watches him, stricken. Against your better judgement, you call out to Sejin. “But are we able to voluntarily go there?”

Sejin shrugs. “Sure, you already did so once this week. No rules against it.”

Jimin brightens up, but before he can say anything, Hoseok’s cheering, jostling Tae’s side. “Guess the sleepover will be back in the bunkroom, Tae!” Across the side of the room, Jimin visibly holds back his irritation.

“Can we do the audience favourite now?” Jungkook pipes up in a hopeful voice.

“Oh, of course.” Sejin fumbles to slide his glasses back on, lenses still smudged at the bottom, and clears his throat dramatically. “Alright, so I’ll just say the top three again. Third place this week was Namjoon.”

Namjoon’s eyes widen comically as he croaks out a, “Really?”

“Ah, I’m so proud,” Hoseok croons, reaching across Taehyung to pat Namjoon’s knee enthusiastically. “Young grasshopper learnt well.”

Namjoon still seems in disbelief, letting out a stilted laugh. “Wow, I- Goodness, that’s so nice of them!”

Beside you, Jungkook’s practically vibrating with nervous energy. He wasn’t even in the top three last time, and you can tell he’s feeling the pressure. Yoongi seems unbothered, even as his eyes keenly focus on Sejin; Jin waits patiently, not looking like he’s expecting anything. Jimin’s more focused on Taehyung than the announcement, his eyes locked onto the boy that’s sandwiched between Namjoon and Hoseok as they celebrate. Hoseok looks relatively uncaring about the favourite, lips still spread in a heart-shaped grin at Namjoon’s victory like it’s his own.

“Second place,” Sejin continues, “was Jungkook.”

You hear and feel his reaction rather than see it. Hear the exhale as he sinks, a mix of relief and disappointment making his frame go lax on the couch. Leaning over, you send him a warm smile. “Good job, Kook, you did really well.”

“Who’s number one?” he asks instead, leaning forward with his legs tucked up under him.

Sejin gives a small smile. “The highest number of votes this week went to Yoongi.”

“Yoongi-hyung?” Jungkook questions quietly, but it’s drowned out by Hoseok’s excited woop and chirpy laughter as Yoongi’s mouth drops open, doing a double take at the news.

“Are you serious?” Yoongi exclaims, a disbelieving grin spreading across his face as Jin rubs his shoulders and Jimin congratulates him lowly. “Holy shit, who would’ve guessed?” His eyes find you suddenly, brightening with realisation. “I get to take you out tonight,” he declares.

A shock of thrill runs through you at all the possibilities of some private time with the enigmatic doctor, but you can’t help but glance over, wary of Tae and Jimin’s reactions. Though Jimin just looks a little stiff, Taehyung’s eyes are on you, sullen. Rather than jealous, it seems more like he’s disappointed he couldn’t be the one to take you out. It’s a relief he isn’t mad, but it only increases the unsettled feeling in your heart. You, Taehyung and Jimin sorely needed to talk.

“Well, then,” Sejin interrupts, breaking you out of your daze, “that’s your Sunday meeting, I’ll see you all back here tomorrow for elimination.”

Like clockwork, the seven guys turn their heads to look at you, even as Sejin bids you farewell and leaves out the front door.

“Do you know who you’re voting out?” Jin asks with a complete lack of tact, an easy smile hiding the concern in his eyes.

You cough awkwardly. “I have no clue,” you answer honestly. “I’m just… trying not to think about it until I really have to, you know? I still don’t want to vote out any of you.”

“That reminds me,” Jin speaks up, though he states it awkwardly, almost sounding rehearsed, “I think we all need to have a group talk. Set some things straight.”

Jungkook recoils like the comment was directed at him, letting out a light huff. “Can’t this wait?”

Yoongi grimaces. “With all due respect, Jungkookie, I think it would be best to just have a chat now and sort this out. If the therapist thinks we need to talk, he’s probably right.”

“It’s not like it’s urgent,” the youngest rebutts, “let’s just do it some other time.”

Jin sucks in a breath. “We’re all sitting here now, Jungkook, and clearing the air. Unless you want to go back to feeling uncomfortable.”

Jungkook’s eyes cast towards the ceiling like he can’t believe he’s stuck here. “Oh my god! I already spoke to you, just pass it on!”

“You know I can’t do that, Jungkook,” Jin says calmly, even as his eyes flare in ire. “We want you to be happy, and I’m sure you’re not the only one that has been struggling, and if we-”

“If you want me to be happy, fucking let me leave, Jesus,” Jungkook swears, and you flinch when he suddenly stands, rushing away quickly. “I’ll come back when I’m done.”

“Done?” Jin asks, looking completely lost. “Goodness, that kid gets angry at everything these days.”

“A talk does sound really helpful, Jin-hyung,” Namjoon offers up. “If you want, we can hang around and wait for Jungkook.”

Jin lets out a light sigh, smiling gratefully. “I figure it’ll be good for us. Hopefully. I just worry about everyone, you know? Just because this is a reality show doesn’t mean we need to be always fighting and throwing drinks in people’s faces and stuff. We need to communicate like adults.”

Yoongi frowns. “You don’t need to take all that burden on yourself, hyung. I’m sure they didn’t teach you to handle this kind of situation in your training.”

Jin goes to reply, but the moment his mouth opens, words are cut off by a dual ding, two phones going off.

You glance over to where Taehyung and Namjoon both instinctively check their phones, faces falling almost simultaneously.

“Oh,” Taehyung says shortly, face falling. “I should’ve remembered.”

“What is it?” Jin asks with knitted brows.

“It’s his stream,” Namjoon explains guiltily, “he normally begins it earlier than this, so he was probably trying to leave so he could start.”

“Why didn’t he just-?” Jin exhales roughly, Yoongi’s hand falling to his shoulder to anchor him. “Whatever. He’s angry now, I guess, let’s just wait for him to finish and once he goes offline someone can text him and ask him to come down. Is everyone fine with that?”

Although no one protests, the air is significantly stiff with tension; Yoongi makes another round of coffees, Taehyung opens the stream and watches it with the volume turned muted, biting at his fingernail. It feels like such a departure from the same time last week, and being tuned in just feels even more invasive than last time.

“The people in the comments aren’t happy about him being late,” Taehyung notes nervously. “He looks upset.”

“I don’t think you should be watching,” Namjoon admits, shifting in his seat as he tries to avoid looking at the screen. “Doesn’t it feel strange to you?”

“I’m just making sure he’s okay,” Taehyung insists hollowly, eyes locked onto it. “He’s trying to touch himself but he’s not getting ha-”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Yoongi spits harshly, returning with four cups of coffee balanced precariously in his grip. “Watch it if you want, but respect that we’re choosing not to.”

Taehyung frowns, but doesn’t protest, returning silently to the screen. Alone on your couch, you take a cup of coffee from Yoongi’s outstretched hands and cradle the cup, feeling the warmth seep into your bones, your heart still as cold as if it were frozen in ice.

True to Yoongi’s command, Taehyung stays silent as he watches, and the entire room sits in uncomfortable quiet until, what can only be fifteen or twenty minutes later, Taehyung lets out a defeated sigh and locks his phone, setting it on the arm of the couch.

The implication is clear, and Jin sets his jaw, looking determined albeit regretful. “Okay, can someone text Jungkook? Let’s get this over with. Just remember it’s for the best.”

Though it seems like even Jin himself is unsure of that, everyone waiting in dread as Taehyung sends him a text, and he comes down the stairs a few minutes later, cheeks flexed with irritation.

You fight the urge to reach out to him when he collapses onto the couch beside you, hair messy but clean and in the same casual clothes as earlier. He seems restless and volatile, and you can’t help but wish the lot of you weren’t having this talk now, or wish you could just jump forward in time to when everyone was happy and alright again.

“Go on, then,” Jungkook starts, snapping the silence. His arms are crossed tightly and eyes piercing as they glare at Jin. “Start the group therapy.”

Though he’s been silent for a while now, Jimin lets out a tired groan. “Fucking hell, Jungkook, he’s trying to help you! Seeing you be upset makes us feel terrible.”

Jungkook stiffens, and you can just about feel the heat radiating off his body as he fires up. “Oh, I’m sorry, next time I’ll just be miserable in private!”

Jin looks stricken, rubbing at his temple. “Jungkook, you said you were going to try and seek out the things that made you happy.”

“And you said you weren’t going to reveal what I said to you in confidence,” Jungkook replies shortly, but before Jin can protest, he’s continuing, voice strained. “But- I do want to try and make things better. I’m sorry; I’m really stressed out and it’s frustrating not being able to leave this place. I thought if I got fan favourite I’d at least get a break.”

The rest of you fall silent for a moment. Your eyes sting, so you blink to ease the ache. “We understand. We want you to be happy. Can we all agree to try our best to just stay chill and talk this through?”

As the others nod, Jungkook scoots back like he’s trying to bury himself into the corner of the couch. “But talk what through? Do you not realise how shitty it feels having all of you sitting me down for an intervention right now? I don’t know whether to be offended or humiliated.”

Taehyung’s face crumples violently, like he’s about to cry. Hoseok, unusually solemn, clears his throat lightly as he pats Tae’s back. “JK, it’s not all of us gathering to dunk on you. I for one know that there are things I’d like to get off my chest. Things that bother me and stuff. I think if we all just front up to what we’re struggling with then we can work through these issues together. But it’s gotta be all of us. If we want to be happy here.”

Jin sends Hoseok a grateful look, sitting back in his seat when Jungkook begins nodding. “I can do that,” Jungkook agrees in a small voice. “Just… someone else can start.”

The concept of owning up about your feelings is clearly as paralysing to the others as it is to you. Everyone falls silent, looking around at each other’s faces and waiting for someone else to speak up. A thread of worry niggles in the back of your brain that Taehyung or Jimin would confess your closeness, bursting the bubble that was already so fragile.

In the end, it’s Yoongi that chooses to go first, heaving a great sigh to brace himself. “If I’m perfectly honest,” Yoongi admits, “I’m a little concerned that we’re going to be cornered into conflict no matter how much we avoid it. As nice as the producers are-” he pauses to glare at one of the cameras filming the interaction with an ‘I’m watching you’ gesture, “this is a reality show and reality shows are founded on drama. And look how much effort it took to get us to sit down and actually talk to each other? It would’ve been easier in some respects to just get angry and hateful and fight every other day, and I don’t think everyone is as aware of that as hyung and I are.”

Jungkook swallows. “I do worry about that, too,” he reveals. “I mean, not in the same way, but… If we wanted to, we could just all hate each other and only interact when we had to and then never speak again when we all leave. Which is weird because for now, we can’t go anywhere. We’re all gonna be really close and then we’ll just go our separate ways. And I don’t know what to do about it… If that makes sense.”

“But you did that exact same thing to us,” Jimin protests. “If you’re scared of us all acting like strangers then why push us away?”

Jungkook frowns stiffly. “That’s what you did at the start!”

“And it sucked,” Jimin retorts immediately. “It felt awful seeing everyone socialise and feeling like I had to stay out of it to protect myself. That’s why I’m not acting like a dick anymore.”

“Well, that’s up for debate,” Hoseok quips with a scoff.

Jimin sends him a withering glare, but Jungkook pays no mind to Hoseok’s remark, eyes still on the blue-haired man. “Everyone else was ignoring me anyway!” His voice is brittle, powered only by his frustration, and it feels like a pot ready to boil over. “Yoongi and Jin always do their own thing in the kitchen and never like me helping out, Namjoon and Hoseok have their whole teacher-student thing going on, and the only people my age are so up each other’s asses that they don’t even look at me half the time! Y/n has six other guys to sleep with so it’s not like I can even hang out with her that much. Everyone’s paired up and left me out of it but you all act like you haven’t. And then it’s all, ‘oh, why is Jungkook all grouchy?’ like I’m just making your lives difficult or something.”

Jimin winces. “We never tried to-”

“It doesn’t matter if you didn’t try to, you did! You and Tae fucking drool over each other all day long and even when I try and- and- talk to either of you, it’s clear that you’re just thinking about the other person.” Jungkook stands suddenly, whirling around to face Taehyung. “I thought that day in the confessional shed, Tae, when you said it wasn’t just Y/n… I thought you were talking about me. I thought we were having a moment, you know, and then it turns out it was just Jimin. It’s always Jimin.”

“Come on, that’s not fair,” Jimin cuts in, “he can’t help his feelings.”

Taehyung sends Jimin a confused look hastily before turning back to Jungkook. “Kookie, I’m really sorry. I don’t want to exclude you anymore. I’ll do better.”

“You shouldn’t have to apologise, Tae,” Jin pipes up tiredly, and a strangled cry comes from Jungkook’s throat, the boy almost hysterical.

“Why do you want so badly for no one to be on my side, Seokjin?”

“God, it isn’t about that-”

Jungkook seems borderline hysterical, bottom lip trembling violently as he points at the eldest. “Well, what is it about? You act so fucking high and mighty, Jin, yet you’re in the same fucking situation as me.”

Your eyes widen as Jungkook turns to you, knees almost bumping yours with how close he’s standing. Behind him, Jin makes a low noise of warning. “Don’t, Jungkook…”

Jungkook’s eyes are wild, two points of red on his cheeks. “Jin has feelings for you but he won’t say anything because he thinks you just see it as sex. And he has the fucking audacity to try and give me advice on my feelings for-”

“Jeon Jungkook!” Jin bellows, standing too. Beside him, Yoongi tugs at his wrist, but the eldest shakes it off. “You have no right to-”

You’ve had enough of sitting silently, wincing at Jin’s volume, the therapist so far from the pillar of emotional stability he usually was. “Just let him get it out, Jin, he’s frustrated.”

Jungkook scoffs even as Jin shakes his head in disapproval. “Are you serious?” Jungkook asks you incredulously. “I tell you Jin has feelings for you and you’re still trying to suck up to me?”

You reel back, brows knitted. “I’m defending you, Jungkook.”

“I don’t want you to fucking defend me, Y/n, I’ve had enough of you leading everyone on and then not returning anything. You have all the power here and you just toy with us and act all innocent.”

“What are you talking about?” you cry, throat aching with the effort it takes to keep your voice steady.

Jungkook’s eyes gleam, unshed tears reflecting the light. “Jin-hyung tries to be romantic and you tell him it’s just a scene to you, instead of just doing Namjoon’s prompt you take his virginity like it’s a 90s romcom, making it “special” for him. You want every one of us to fall for you so that you can get fawned over by seven hot guys, but you aren’t willing to take any of the responsibility that comes with it. You act like things are so hard for you having to choose, but you’re breaking our fucking hearts doing it!”

You open your mouth to retort, but a crashing wave of guilt overtakes you, and your cheeks are wet before you even realise you’re crying. Intentional or not, you rue all the times you complained about elimination, knowing that the guys must have been feeling so much worse. “I’m so sorry, Kook,” you make out, covering your nose and mouth with a hand to try and contain yourself.

From the other side of the room, it’s Namjoon that speaks up next, voice flat and reserved. It’s a stark contrast to the fire in Jungkook’s voice, but he looks no less affected by everything. “That’s not fair at all,” he says shortly, “Y/n isn’t in charge of our feelings any more than we are, and you don’t have any right to judge her for what I chose. I was the one who wanted my first time to be special, Kook.”

Namjoon’s low volume seems to influence Jungkook, taking his noise level down a notch. The words just hurt more. “Maybe you shouldn’t be here then, Namjoon. This isn’t where you come to have your cherry popped by a nice, young lady you can bring home to your parents.”

“Oh, my god,” Hoseok exclaims with a groan, “are we seriously just complaining about everyone now? Is that what this is? Good going, Jin, really fucking helpful.”

A whirl of dread rushes through you as the anger continues to flit around the room in an ugly cloud, everyone having a bone to pick with each other. Jin makes a noise of outrage, hissing back at Hoseok when he speaks. “I don’t see you coming up with any suggestions. Do any of you have any fucking idea how hard it is to have everyone expecting you to magically solve their problems and shoulder their burdens and not a single one of them gives a shit about you?”

“That isn’t true,” you protest, immediately regretting drawing attention back to yourself.

Jin scoffs. “You haven’t said a fucking thing since finding out I have feelings for you. Wait, no; you haven’t said a fucking thing since I got upset with you on Tuesday. Did you really never think to ask even once how I was doing?”

Your excuse feels flat even before you say it. “I was waiting for you to-”

“Ding ding ding, we have a winner!” he sings sarcastically. “Everybody waits for me to solve things and then complains when it’s not helpful enough,” Jin spits, glaring at Hoseok with the last few words.

A shuddering sob cuts into the silence that follow his words, and in unison you all turn to Taehyung, who has his face buried in Hoseok’s shoulder, Namjoon rubbing his back as his shoulders heave.

Jimin sucks in a sharp breath at the sight, body twitching as he fights the urge to rush over, and instead raises his voice to address the room. “Alright; show’s over. This isn’t solving anything.”

“Why should you decide?” Jungkook cuts in immediately. “I’m miserable and you don’t care, Jin’s miserable and you don’t care, but the second it’s Taehyung…!”

Jimin rolls his eyes, leaning back in his seat. “Why are you so bothered by it?”

Jungkook lets out a cry of frustration that sounds closer to a sob. “Because you’re taking him away from me! I can’t compete with you! Everybody’s obsessed with you, everybody wants your approval and you just drink it up, you narcissistic, selfish piece of shit!”

Around the room, everyone sucks in a wary breath, but Jimin’s already standing, features sharpened in anger. “Why are you acting like it’s my fault he has feelings for me? Maybe he doesn’t like you because you’re a whiny fucking brat who takes everything personally.”

“That isn’t true,” Taehyung hiccups out, “Jungkookie’s nice, Min. And you’re not selfish.”

Though the tension in the room just keeps rising and rising, you can see, behind Jimin’s standing figure, Yoongi sitting stiffly on the couch. He keeps glaring at the cameras expectantly, with one hand clutching his phone and the other latched onto Jin’s wrist, keeping him from interfering further. The two exchange words quietly, shaking their heads in disapproval.

On the more emotional side of the room, Hoseok holds Taehyung closely, soothing him as Namjoon looks up hesitantly at the others. “I really think we should stop, guys…”

“Let’s all take a chill pill,” Hoseok quips as Taehyung’s tears stain his shirt.

Jimin lets out a noise of disgust. “Oh, shut the fuck up, Hoseok.”

“Is no one gonna stop this?” Namjoon asks hesitantly, glancing up at the cameras.

“What did I say?” Yoongi retorts rhetorically. “They aren’t going to interfere. They know this drama gives their show more views.”

“Good for Jimin,” Jungkook states petulantly, “the more views he gets, the better he feels.”

“Coming from you,” Jimin says over the sound of Yoongi clicking his tongue in exasperation. “Maybe the reason you hate me so much is because you and I are the exact same, Jungkook, I just do it better.”

“Again with your superiority complex,” Jungkook huffs. “How long until everyone here gets sick of you, Jimin? How long until the novelty wears off and you’re left alone on your high horse again, huh?”

Jimin flinches like he’s been hit, but takes an accusing step closer to Jungkook. Around them, everyone shrinks back in their seats, Hoseok shielding Taehyung’s ears and Yoongi and Jin with a phone sandwiched between their cheeks as they make a call. Namjoon’s begun to cry, too, but he hides his running nose with a sleeve, eyes wide and shining as they watch Jimin and Jungkook square off.

The two of them are a few steps apart, now, not even the coffee table dividing them. Jimin, although physically smaller than Jungkook, appears to tower over the other as his face darkens. “At least I’m good at my job, Jungkook. Why did you come down so soon? Blow your load too quickly like an amateur?” When it doesn’t gain any more reaction than Jungkook’s face twitching in annoyance, Jimin grins wickedly. “Or could baby not even get it up, huh? Take your dick away, you’re not much of anything, are you?”

Jungkook lunges before Jimin is even done speaking.

The thud of impact and grunt of rage from the youngest echoes through the room sickly as Jimin reels back, clutching at his nose. Already you can see the intense scarlet pooling between his fingers, dripping down as his eyes tear up with anger and pain.

The urge to jump in, do something, almost overwhelms you, but you feel yourself paralysed, shocked and barely able to process anything like it’s a bad nightmare.

On one side of Jungkook and Jimin, Taehyung wails, struggling in Hoseok and Namjoon’s hold as the two of them keep him from interfering. On the other side, Yoongi stands up in alarm, keeping his voice calm as he splays his palms. “Woah, woah, that’s enough now-”

Jimin pulls his hands away, spitting out the blood in his mouth even as more streams to fill out. “You little fucker,” he hisses. “If you broke my nose, I’ll fucking kill you.”

Jungkook lets out a bitter laugh. “Take your face away, you’re not much of anything, right?” he mocks.

Sensing things turning for the worst, Yoongi widens his eyes and jumps forward, but his hands just catch on empty air. Jimin’s already launched himself forward, taking Jungkook off-guard as he shoves him with balled fists, using the full weight of his body to send the other tripping backwards.

Jungkook curses when he lands harshly on the coffee table, empty and half-full cups of coffee flung off, some smashing directly under him. He rolls off, instinctively curling his body away from Jimin.

Passing Taehyung over to Namjoon, Hoseok leaps up to tug Jimin back as the man continues to step closer to Jungkook’s prone body. The moment he gets a hand on Jimin, however, he’s met with an elbow to the cheek, stumbling back from the impact.

For a moment, everyone goes silent. Jimin stares wide-eyed at the red mark quickly blooming on Hoseok’s cheekbone, the dom looking shocked as he rubs at it.

That second of inaction is all it takes for Jin and Yoongi to descend on Jimin at the same time, an arm firmly grasped by each man as they drag him backwards. Jimin doesn’t even fight it, though, a strange clarity and sorrow in his eyes, even brighter than the red that’s beginning to drip down to his shirt.

When Sejin bursts in and rushes over to Jungkook, it’s too late to really solve anything. The combative atmosphere has dissolved into the sick, defeated aftermath of Jimin and Jungkook’s physical alteration.

Still, he directs Jin and Yoongi to take Jimin upstairs to ‘cool off’, crouching beside Jungkook and making sure he’s okay before he tugs the boy gently up. As he leads the youngest in the opposite direction, towards the front door, Jungkook twists in his grip, trying to look back towards the group.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he wails, “please don’t hate me, I’m so so sorry!” Jungkook babbles on almost incoherently, feet stumbling as Sejin tries to shush him, pulling him out the door.

The moment the door clicks shut, it’s like the emotions of the past hour or so hit everyone at once. Namjoon has joined Taehyung in crying, Hoseok trying to rub their backs at once with a pained face, his cheek beginning to swell slightly.

With your shoulders and chest heaving violently as you sob - the silent tears finally finding their voice - you blink away your blurry vision and heave yourself off the couch. The three of them accept you with open, albeit shaky arms, and without any care about exposing your relationship, you wind your arms around Taehyung’s waist and bury your face in the crook of his neck.

“Do you think they’re okay?” Namjoon asks in a small voice, fiddling with the damp sleeve of his shirt.

As if to answer his question, you hear hurried stomps, followed by Jimin bursting briefly into your line of sight, rushing down the stairs and out the front door without even a second glance.

Even the split-second view of him you got sparks worry in your chest. He’d clearly made a minimal attempt to wipe away most of the blood, but there were still dried smears below his nostrils and down his neck, and the shirt he’s wearing looks like something out of a horror movie, likely the material he used to clean himself up.

Jin and Yoongi follow down, but not fast enough, the blue-haired man long gone by then. The two of them seem hollowed, clearly taking this on as their own burden, as their fault - especially Jin, who’s knitting his brows harshly to stop his own tears.

Taehyung’s straightening up immediately, wrapped up in the middle of the three of you on the couch as he calls out to the older men. “What did he say? Is he okay? It’s not broken, is it? His nose?”

“Tae, easy,” Jin soothes, voice thick with emotion. “Yoongi took a look at it, it’s not broken, just tender. Jungkook sure does know how to swing a punch, though. Jimin was lucky.”

“Lucky,” the masseuse repeats weakly. “I don’t know if anything about this was lucky, hyung.”

“Can we even come back from this?” Namjoon asks slowly. “If we couldn’t talk like adults without fighting, then surely we’re doomed to just-”

“Nobody is doomed,” Jin assures. “If I’m perfectly honest, it seems like Jungkook was so wound up that there was nowhere for him to go except this. He probably just needed to totally vent and get it all out. I should’ve seen it coming, I’m so sorry.”

Yoongi grimaces, a hand on Jin’s shoulder. “None of this is your fault, hyung. We’re all complicit and we can all learn from this, but let’s not play the blame game. I just hope Jimin and Jungkook don’t entirely despise each other after this. I actually thought the kid liked- Anyway. Best thing we can do now is give them some time.”

You suck in a deep breath. That whole time, you’d just sat there, too shocked or too cowardly to move, you don’t even know which one. And although it’s too late, at least there’s one thing you can do to help, rather than just waiting passively. You gently detangle yourself from Taehyung, Hoseok and Namjoon and get up off the couch.

When Yoongi - the most composed of the bunch - sees you kneel on the carpet, beginning to pick up chips and fragments of the shattered cup, he lets out a noise of concern. “Y/n, you shouldn’t-”

In your haste to help, and your shakiness from crying, it’s no surprise that your fingers are clumsy, grabbing onto a shard too harshly.

You see the blood welling before you feel it, a hot line of pain that opens up across the base of your palm and spills onto the carpet. Dumbly, you just watch it collect in the fibres. You’re sure when the showrunners rented this house, they hadn’t anticipated blood to be the fluid they’d need to be cleaning up. But in just one day, so much had been shed needlessly.

You’d probably sit there forever, numb to your own injury were it not for Yoongi rushing forward, his fingers gently prying away the sharp shard of ceramic, holding your hand so tenderly as he inspects it.

“You’re coming to my bedroom, now. Can you stand?”

Yoongi’s voice feels far away, inconsequential. You hum just to feel your throat vibrate. Letting out a sigh laden with worry, Yoongi lifts you off the floor slowly, waiting to see if you can get your feet back under you.

It seems you can stand, though it takes all of your focus. The others are talking behind you, voices fretting, but they reach your ears like you’re underwater.

It’s less than a second of eternity before you’re blinking away the cotton fog, slowly coming back to your senses.

The first thing you feel is a freezing solid surface against your legs and back. As it seeps into your bones, it wakes you up, and you fight to focus your vision, watching the colours swim sickly.

“...hear me?” The shapes and shades begin to settle like silt on a lakebed, revealing Yoongi’s round face as it crumples in contained concern. “Y/n, can you hear me?”

“I h-hear you, yes,” you slur out, coughing away the remaining thickness in your throat.

“Good, okay, stay with me,” he instructs, crouched in front of you. “What day is it?”

The more you tune back in to your surroundings, you become aware of a second person behind Yoongi. Hoseok’s long legs sprawl gracefully in front of you as he sits on the toilet seat lid, but his head is dipped back onto the tile. He looks totally devoid of any of the positive energy you’re used to seeing on him.

“Everything’s ruined,” you mumble lowly.

Yoongi sucks in a breath and tilts your face back to him, his fingers cold like ice. “I need you to not worry about that for now and stay alert. What day of the week is it?”

“Sunday,” you give after a beat.

“Good, and what’s my name?”

You frown, shifting in his grasp. “I’m not concussed, you know.”

Yoongi huffs, his hands falling from your jaw. “I’m trying to keep you distracted, you brat. What’s my name?”

“Min Yoongi. Doctor Min Yoongi I gue- Wait, why do I need to be- ow!” You automatically try to jerk your hand close to you when a searing, stinging pain explodes your nerves, but an iron grip around your wrist keeps you steady.

Glancing down, you see Yoongi deftly wrapping a bandage around the base of your palm, winding it around your thumb. Below, the burning ache of antiseptic makes you wince. “It hurts,” you whine.

“Unlike poor Hoseok, you did this to yourself,” Yoongi replies shortly.

You pout. “Do you bully all your patients?”

“Only the ones I like.” Clearing his throat with a tinge of pink in his cheeks, Yoongi finishes bandaging your wound. “You’ll live.”

Despite yourself and the events of the past few hours, your lip twitches. “Reassuring.”

Before the doctor can respond, Hoseok lifts his head and blinks down at the two of you balefully. “He hit me,” he breathes in a sullen voice.

“Jimin?” Yoongi begins to pack up his little first aid kit, slumping back against the vanity you’re propped up on. “You got in the way.”

“He didn’t just push me away, he elbowed me right in the face,” Hoseok explains meaningfully. The thought seems to bother him more than you’d expect. “I didn’t think he actually hated me like that.”

“Isn’t that your whole shtick?” you ask tiredly. All of your annoyance, frustration, anger and even your guilt seems to have been sucked away by the chill of the tile, leaving you feeling strangely hollow and detached. “Two sparring doms trying to outdo each other?”

The truth is, Jimin didn’t like to speak or hear about Hoseok, and you hadn’t actually spent that much time with the professional dom to hear his side. Hoseok shrugs with a sigh. “I know he doesn’t like me. And I think he’s an arrogant prick, but I’d never hit him. I thought it was just a bit of fun to play up the rivalry, you know? I guess not to him.”

Yoongi looks grim. “I don’t think it’s wise for us to make any judgements about each other based on any of the events of the past six hours. We all got caught up in it, and I’m sure we’ll be able to forgive and move on.”

Hoseok nibbles at a thumbnail, unassured. “Do you think they’ll send them home for aggression?”

“Who knows?” Yoongi answers honestly. “But hey; you’ll get to be the winner of your rivalry and outlast Jimin. That’s something, isn’t it? You always wanted to.”

A shiver runs up your spine at the despairing look on Hoseok’s face. “Not like this,” are the only three words he makes out before a sob bubbles up his throat. He claps a hand over his mouth, but the dam has burst.

“Hobi,” you coo, shuffling forward on your knees to avoid putting pressure on your injured hand. He lets out a shuddering breath when you take his hand and link in your fingers, providing some physical comfort. “Let’s go downstairs, maybe make some dinner, and wait for Jimin and Jungkook to come back in. We’ll say our sorries and go to bed on a warmer note, yeah?”

Hoseok pauses, bites his lip to cease his tears, and nods shakily. “Yeah, let’s do that. Even if he hates me, I… I want to apologise if I’ve contributed in taking things too far.”

You hum, standing up. Though you wobble for a bit, you feel far more stable than before, and you use your links hands to tug Hoseok to his feet too. “And I want to apologise for not being fairer with you all. But we can’t do anything until Jungkook and Jimin are ready to come back.”

Yoongi pushes himself off the floor with a grunt. “And Hoseok, I’m getting you an icepack for that cheek of yours.”

Though Hoseok protests, five minutes passing sees you in the kitchen, Hoseok slumped at the breakfast bar with a bag of frozen peas wrapped in a paper towel pressed to his face. You busy yourself with putting some rice on to cook and Yoongi and Jin work in their usual companionable silence, preparing a basic beef broth.

Both uninjured and not much help in the kitchen, Taehyung and Namjoon occupy their hands and minds with cleaning, following YouTube tutorials on how to get coffee and blood out of the carpet. They haven’t made all that much progress by the time dinner is served, but nobody comments on the dark patches, huddling on two couches in the lounge instead of the dining table. Though no one admits it, you need the extra physical comfort.

As you eat, you find yourself glancing back and forth between the two full bowls waiting on the kitchen countertop, and the front door. “Should someone go out and check on them?” you ask eventually, snapping the silence.

“I texted Sejin asking if they needed any medical attention,” Yoongi offers. “He just said no.”

“Minnie took his phone,” Taehyung said in a low voice. He’s barely touched his food, staring blankly into space. “But he only sent one text saying he was okay and he won’t reply to any of my other ones.”

“We wait,” Jin decides resolutely. “We’ll just sit here and wait for them to come back, and then hopefully we can all agree to put this past us. It was awful, yes, but I think it needed to happen. And hopefully nobody feels like they have anything weighing on their conscience anymore.”

Nobody protests and so, you wait.

The leftovers - god, when was the last time you’d had leftovers in this house? - are wrapped up and put in the fridge, the pots cleaned. As the sky dims, you turn the lights on inside. Nobody dares leave long enough to have a shower, but Taehyung darts upstairs to grab some blankets so that you can tuck up in two groups - Taehyung stays by your side with Hoseok, and the two eldest sandwich Namjoon.

Time passes stiffly, but it does pass. When the sun goes down, there are still only six of you in the house. Everyone’s so emotionally exhausted from the fight, and strung out from the anxiety of listening out for the door, that when it suddenly opens you all jump, Hoseok even cursing as he gets a fright.

The sudden spike of hope in your chest tanks violently when it’s Sejin that rounds the corner, a grim look on his face.

Taehyung frowns, his frame trembling as it leans into you. “Where are they?”

Sejin gestures back the way he came. “They’re in the production van.” Taehyung stands up immediately, but Sejin steps in front of him, hands splayed. “They just want to have some space, Taehyung,” he explains.

“There’s more space in here than there is in the van,” Taehyung protests weakly, even as he settles back down between you and Hoseok. “When are they gonna come back inside? It’s getting late.”

Sejin’s eyes flit around the six of you as he shifts, uncomfortable. “I’ve told them they’re welcome to stay the night there and use my bed. I came in to tell you that I’m going to go home now. Please don’t go out and disturb them. I’ve talked to them, but now they need some time to chat to each other and think about what they’d like to do.” The older man adjusts his glasses and gives you a pained smile. “Try and get some rest.”

A cold bolt of fear runs down your spine. “What they’d like to do?”

Taehyung swallows hard, hands beginning to tremble. “They aren’t going to leave the show, are they?”

Sejin’s mouth opens, closes, opens again. “Please try and get some rest,” he repeats, rather than answering. Taehyung shivers, and you feel the pressure of his forehead on your shoulder as he wraps his arms around your waist.

The producer turns to leave, making Yoongi frown. “Hey!” he calls sharply. Sejin turns around to face him. “I was meant to be taking Y/n out as my reward for fan favourite.”

You bite your lip anxiously. Truth be told, the thought had slipped your mind, and you don’t fancy leaving the others now, certainly not Taehyung who was clinging to you like a frightened puppy.

Sejin curses under his breath, rubbing his temple. “I’ll call an Uber.”

Yoongi steps back a little like the response surprises him. “No, I- This isn’t really the time, is it? I want to ask if we can do it tomorrow night instead, or something? I’m staying here with my friends tonight. We’re staying together.”

“That’s fine,” Sejin allows, a weak smile gracing his tired features before he gasps. “Oh! That reminds me…” He turns so that he’s addressing the group. “I don’t think anyone is in the emotional headspace for eliminations, so… I’m pushing the Monday meeting to Tuesday. Nine in the morning like usual. Just rest up tomorrow.”

“Good to hear you care now,” Yoongi mutters bitterly.

Sejin winces. “I think we’ve had enough conflict today, Yoongi-”

“Something you could have solved,” the doctor accuses harshly, “if you’d answered my texts or my calls and come down when we were asking you for help. I won’t forget that.”

“It’s done. There’s nothing more for me to do beyond apologising.”

“Which you haven’t done,” Yoongi fires back immediately.

“I’m sorry.” The producer gives a stiff wave of farewell to the group. “My girlfriend is waiting outside. I’ll be back first thing tomorrow.”

When Sejin leaves the villa, the group heave out a unanimous sigh of exhaustion. It’s been a long day, but the thought of splitting apart, of being alone with your thoughts, is more than you can bear.

“Could we…” You swallow down the croakiness in your throat as everyone turns to look at you. “Could we maybe all stay down here tonight? Together?”

Namjoon’s eyes soften. “I’d like that. I could grab some blankets?”

Taehyung looks up. “I’ll get pillows.”

One by one, four of you run upstairs, Yoongi and Hoseok wanting to get into some more comfortable clothes for sleeping. Before you do the same, you turn to Jin.

He’s starting to push the coffee table towards the television, leaving more room in the middle of the couches. Stubbornly keeping himself busy.

“Jin,” you call out hesitantly, making him glance up in the midst of straightening the table against the wall. “I want to apologise. For relying on you for everything and not taking responsibility of the situation.”

His eyes soften, a pained smile. “You don’t have to.”

“I do and I am,” you counter, “I’m sorry. And for what it’s worth… Me calling it a scene, I… It wasn’t a grand statement. It was just a slip of the tongue. You mean more to me than just this game, than just sex, and I feel terrible that you’ve gone the whole week thinking that was the case.”

Behind you, you can hear footsteps descending the stairs. Jin glances up, then back at you quickly with a shake of his head. “To be honest, I’ve gotten over it. I’m fine; you don’t have to worry about me. I think it’s better just to keep it about sex.” He makes a vague gesture, indicating the day’s events. “Less messy.”

You blink, not expecting that. Had he gotten over being upset? Or gotten over his feelings for you? “Oh.” But Hoseok and Taehyung are stumbling down the steps, hesitating in the doorway, and you know you can’t dig deeper. For now, you’ll have to just be happy he doesn’t seem to be still bothered by it. “No worries. I’ll- I should go get into some pyjamas.”

That night, none of you really sleep the night. You lie tucked between Yoongi’s reassuring mass on one side, and Taehyung’s comforting warmth on the other, and try to steal whatever moments of respite you can. But a restless night shared with five guys who mean far more to you than they should is far preferable to a night spent alone, and you count your blessings for it. Although you’re all a little broken, you have each other’s support to stop from shattering completely, and hopefully you can stay together long enough to heal.

ELIMINATION

On the seventh Day of every Week in the game, Y/n’s elimination vote is released for 48 hours following the post of the fic. Please note, this is NOT the Fan Favourite vote, which has already happened.

Vote closed. Thank you for participating.

Below is the screenshot taken after 48 hours of the fan favourite vote being open.

[erzaguin]

The Blight Chronicles: Odalia and Alador Chapter 2: How it Started

Every day started the same. "Get up, Alador, we're going to be late for school. Take a quick shower while I get us some food" ordered Odalia as she picked up clothes that were on the floor. 

"Is it necessary? I showered yesterday so it should be ok." muttered Aldor as he got out of bed. He didn't understand why everything had to be so clean all the time. As far as he could tell it was a waste of time. 

"I've told you if you want to make good business connections you have to make a good impression. We're not just trying to sell your inventions, we are also trying to sell people on you." 

"Ok… but what does that have to do with my room?" he asked while rummaging through some drawers for clean clothes. "You're the only person that sees it." 

She knew he was just stating facts but something about the thought that she was the only other person that would get to be in his room made her heart quiver. 

"It's filthy here, it's easier to find things if it's all in its place." She replied matter of factly and as if to prove her point Alador could not find any clothes in his drawers. They were filled with random notes and tools. 

Odalia handed him some clean clothes from a basket of laundry she had done the day before while giving him a smirk. Without any form of expression on his face he took the clothes from her and headed to the bathroom. 

“Make sure to be quick we’re already behind schedule” she said as she headed out the room.

“Ok” mumbled Alador.

This is the way things had been since that day at the market. After making eye contact with him Odalia got a strange look in her eyes and started following him around. She kept trying to make conversation with him but he was so unsettled by the situation that he just stayed quiet in hopes that she would leave. Most people did but not her. After a while she just stepped in line with him and walked around the market with him in silence. 

He could feel her watching him as they walked and he wasn’t sure how to react. He was not used to being around people like this. When he took a glance at her he saw that she really was staring at him. Those piercing blue eyes made him feel very exposed but he didn’t know how to deal with it. So he decided to just get the materials he needed as fast as possible and leave. 

He headed to his usual stand where he was greeted by the shopkeeper.

“Hey, why if it isn't my favorite customer?! Oh and you brought a lady friend with you?” bellowed the large man while giving Alador a wink. "What can I do for you?"

Without responding Alador grabbed the items he needed and showed them to the shop keeper so he could give him a price. He just wanted to get out of there as fast as possible and go home. 

“I see you’re still not much of a talker ey? Let’s see that there will be 250 snails.” he said as he started putting the items in a bag. 

That was a lot of snails. He pulled out his wallet and started counting. He barely had enough but this would mean he would be out of money. He would have to hold off on buying groceries until his next allowance the following month. As he was lost in thought still looking at his wallet his companion stepped forward. 

“Wow if this is how you treat your favorite customer I would hate to see how you treat your least favorite.” chimed the green haired girl whose piercing sapphire eyes were now set on the shopkeeper. 

Alador almost felt sorry for the man who seemed to have shrunk under the gaze of this school girl. Having been the target of her gaze though he felt a sense of relief that she wasn’t looking at him like that. Although she had a smile on her face there was a storm behind her eyes. Even her presence had changed, it was terrifying. At that moment Alador was sure of one thing; he was happy that she was on his side. 

“Now I might be confused but going by the chart you have there the total should be no more than 50 snails.” she jeered still keeping the same expression on her face. “What sign?” thought Alador to himself. 

The shopkeep started huffing trying to produce words but it just came out as babbles. Alador was not sure if it was due to him being called out or the intensity of the girls gaze but he was having a hard time staying composed. 

*Cough* *cough* “Ah yes you are right little lady I uh you see it’s been a long day. Yeah that's it a long day and I’m not as young as I used to be. My mind is not as sharp as you youngsters.” 

At the sight of the girl’s smile widening the shopkeeps face went pale. “You know what you’re right! Al my boy take whatever you need free of charge for my favorite customer.” stuttered the shopkeep who was already sweating through his clothes. 

“That’s very generous of you” said the green haired girl.  “You heard him Alador take anything you think you might need and make sure to take extras just in case.” she said while looking directly at him and giving him a genuine smile. 

Alador felt a small jolt when she turned to look at him with that sweet smile. But he quickly recovered and did as she said. He took everything he thought he would need, some spares and a couple of things he thought he would never be able to afford.

“Is that all you needed?” she asked him still with that same smile on her face. He nodded in response. “Good, can we have some bags for these?” she said looking back at the shopkeep with those sharp eyes. The man visibly jumped and hurriedly started packing all the things Alador had picked out. “Oh well take one of those too” she said pointing at what looked like a case. 

“But that?” started the shopkeep before going completely pale once he met eyes with the girl again. “I mean yes, little miss of course. Here you go kids.”

He handed the bags to them along with the case. Alador could see it now. It was a brand new tool set. He wanted to open it and examine the tools right here and now but suddenly felt the sensation of being pulled. 

“Come on I’ll help you carry these home” said the green haired girl who was now pulling on his sleeve. 

“Ok” muttered Alador. He grabbed a couple of bags on one hand and the tool set with the other. The girl followed suit. “Thank you again mister, it was a pleasure doing business with you.” she said before giving the man a wink and following after Alador. 

Alador could have sworn that he heard the man crying as he walked away but he didn’t care. He just wanted to get home to go over his new inventory. His thoughts were again interrupted by the girl walking next to him.

“We need to find you some glasses, that nearsightedness of yours could have cost you a fortune today.  Who knows how much money that old snake has taken from you.” she said as she started mumbling plans for getting him glasses. 

“Thank you” he said in a tone devoid of emotion. Even Though he was thankful it was hard for him to express emotions. 

“Don’t mention it. Think about it like a business investment.” she stated matter of factly. 

“Business investment?” questioned Alador. 

“Yes you and I are going to go into business together. I will handle the money and talking to people while you will handle production.” 

Alador only took a moment to think about it before agreeing. After today it did not take much effort to realize how beneficial this partnership would be for him. He just simply nodded in agreement. 

“A man of few words, I can respect that. With you and me working together the boiling isles won't know what hit them.” she said with a hint of glee in her eyes. 

“What’s your name?”  he asked in his usual dry tone. He almost felt bad for not knowing it even after she went out of her way to help him. 

“My name? Oh yes how rude of me. My name is Odalia.” she said, giving him the same sweet smile that made his chest feel funny. 

 Once they arrived at his house she came in to drop off the bags she was carrying. Instantly she was assaulted by the smell of staleness and dirt. She took in her surroundings and noticed that almost everything had a layer of dirt on it. It was almost impossible to tell that someone lived here except for the one chair and the one clean spot on the table. 

“Alador do you leave alone?” she questioned looking directly at him. 

“It's just me and my father but his work keeps him away most of the time so it’s just me.” he said completely undisturbed while he made his way through the times in the first bag. 

Odalia would have never guessed that this was how he lived. He always seems so undisturbed by everything but this is no way to live. He can’t be ok with this. Ok Odalia you have to protect your new investment. 

“Alador, could you show me where you keep your cleaning supplies?” she said as she rolled up her sleeves. 

Alador simply pointed to a small closet before remembering the case of tools. As Odalia checked what materials she would be working with, Alador grabbed the tool case. 

"Not so fast, first we clean then you get to play with your new toys." She said, pulling the case away from him. At that moment Alador started to regret his decision. "Don't pout if we work together we'll be done twice as fast. Plus once we're done I'll cook us some dinner ok?" 

Alador looked longingly at the case before looking at Odalia and nodding. "Good, what do you feel like eating tonight? She asked as she handed him a rag.

[jane-fucking-seymour]

Every Tudor Rose Has Its Thorns - CH 2 now live

AO3 Link here

“So… you think they’re alive?” Jim asks, tilting his head.

“At least one of them is a ghost, I think,” she explains, walking towards the alley next to the theatre. They had gotten their tickets refunded due to “technical difficulties,” despite knowing that the real issue was far beyond that. “But the visions I had when Catherine and Anne went up for their songs… it felt really powerful. It could be more than one. Maybe all of them, just based on the pure strength of it.”

“What, so you think the ghosts of the ex-wives of Henry VIII are… haunting the performers when they go on?” Jim asks. “One ghost doing that, sure, but all of them? Seems pretty unlikely.”

Melinda frowned and looked down at the programme, flipping to the page where the actors were shown. She tilts her head. “You know, they never say what the actor’s names are in here. They just say Anne and Catherine and the rest.”

“Maybe it’s an acting thing?” Jim asks, though he clearly sounds like he’s fishing for an answer. “Some actors do that, live as though they’re the characters they are.”

Melinda nods in consideration, but goes back to the original theory: that the ghosts are involved.

“I mean, it’s not surprising that they would be earthbound if it is actually them,” Melinda says. “Not after everything they got put through.”

“Do you think they caused the technical difficulties?” Jim asks.

“I didn’t sense anyone else around, but it’s not out of the realm of possibility,” Melinda replies. “Why would they want to ruin their own show, though? It’s about their story, their lives being told-”

“No, they’re not ruining their own show.”

Jim and Melinda jump a bit as they hear a voice behind them. When they turn, they spot…

“You’re Maria, right?” Melinda asks. “You’re the drummer.”

“I am,” Maria nods. “I was hoping you’d still be around. I… I don’t know how to explain this, but I really think you should come with me.”

Melinda watches her for a moment before tilting her head. She slowly walks more towards Maria, gently taking her hand. There’s a slight jolt before Melidna is once again pulled into a vision:

She’s managed to avoid the guards, sneak into the premises, and get to her door. With a running start, she bangs through it, immediately looking down at a woman in bed. She looks deathly ill, yet oddly familiar…

Melinda can hear herself speak Spanish to the woman, crying as she holds her. She can see her arm gently push back some hair, gently speak comforting words to the woman she held, crying out her name as the former queen’s eyes start to dim and close:

“Catalina!”

Suddenly, Melinda was back to the present. Maria looks terrified.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt her, is she-”

“It’s okay, she’s okay,” Jim says, nodding. He keeps an eye on Melinda, though, just in case.

Melinda took a moment to clear her thoughts before she continued. “That was… the other side of the vision I had when Catherine of Aragon’s song came up.”

“Vision?” Maria asks, taking a step back in surprise. “Are you a witch?”

“No,” Mel is quick to dispel the theory. “But I do… have a gift. I can see the dead.”

Maria pales. Melinda narrows her eyes.

“How?” Melinda asks. Maria is quiet, so Melinda clarifies: “How are you alive and dead at the same time?”

She looks down at her hands before she looks back up at the couple. “I… I need you to come inside. To come with me to see the others.” She looks from Melinda to Jim and back to Melinda. “I promise, we’re not… we’re not bad. And we didn’t do anything to cause those issues.” She takes a deep breath. “Oh, I can’t believe Jane’s going to be right on this.”

“Right on what?” Jim asks, stepping forward.

Maria makes a face.

“She said she felt someone else on stage with us tonight. Someone cold. She’s been off ever since.”

That was enough for Melinda to follow Maria into the backdoor.

As soon as they walk in, Maria takes Jim and Mel to the dressing rooms. Melinda recognized the queens: Jane was sitting next to Anne, quietly discussing something. Catherine and Cathy were getting their things together. Anna and Katherine were on their phones.

It’s the latter that speak up first.

“I mean, I’m seeing stuff where people say their electronics went haywire due to a ghost,” Katherine says. “Even as common as we’ve been having it lately.”

“It could also be some faulty wiring, though,” Anna points out, scrolling through some searches. “Or maybe the wind that’s been picking up knocked something loose.”

“I swear, I felt a cold wind, and I…” Jane starts, but she freezes up when she spots Maria and her guests. “Who’s this?”

Maria clears her throat and steps forward. “Everyone, this is Melinda Gordon and Jim Clancy.” She looks directly at Catherine for the next part. “Melinda can speak to the dead.”

They’re all quiet for a moment before Anne speaks up.

“Oh really?” She asks, a hint of joking in her voice. Melinda grimaces at that; people usually are in disbelief, but the mocking tone some can get reminded her of the high school and college bullies. It’s not easy doing her job, after all.

“Yes,” Maria continues. “Actual ghosts.”

“How do you think she can help?” Cathy asks.

“How do we know to trust her?” Jane asks.

“I think I know the answer to both of those things.”

Before Melinda or Jim can answer, someone else has jumped to their defense: Melinda recognized her as Joan, the pianist. Right behind her was Bessie and Maggie. All three of them were in normal clothes now, bags left at the side of the door as they move towards the group and stand nearby.

“Maria,” Joan says quietly. “I saw you stumble on Catherine’s song today. You were looking right at her in the front row.” Joan looks over at Melinda, almost pitying her. “And you looked incredibly pale. I thought it might be a trick of the light, but I’m assuming you being here makes it not the case.”

Melinda nods, stepping forward. “I had a vision. I was in a bed, hurting, and someone barged into the room and held me as I died. It felt like the person wasn’t supposed to be there, but I needed her to be there.” She looks over at Maria, who is looking at Catherine. “I think it was you. You called her name as she died, didn’t you? You called for Catalina. That was who you were holding, as she died.”

Maggie frowns. “Not that I don’t believe you, but anyone who knows our histories knows that Maria held Catherine at the end. How do we know this isn’t a trick?”

“Because,” Joan says, “when that… vision… of hers happened, Maria looked completely out of sorts.” She steps towards the woman in question. “What did you feel?”

“I felt… connected,” Maria explains, moving to gently hold Catherine’s hand for support. Catherine, of course, holds it firm. “I felt like someone was connecting with me. And I… I heard Catalina’s cries. I heard what I heard when she died. Then I looked up, and it was Melinda.”

“Did you… see something… during Don’t Lose Ur Head?” Maggie asks, frowning.

Melinda shivered at the thought. “Yes. I saw someone being taken to the block. A young, red headed girl called for her mom-”

Anne stands up quickly, like a reflex, but Maggie quickly grabs her arm. It calms the woman somewhat as she sits back down. Jim stands a bit closer to Melinda as she backed up at the sudden movement, but with things calmer, she relaxes a bit more.

“Not quite how that went,” Anne says quietly, “but if Catherine and Maria believe you, I’m inclined to as well.”

“Sometimes my visions aren’t exact to what happened,” Melinda replies. “Sometimes they’ve got more symbolism in them then actual events-”

Melinda stopped, though, when a sudden chill fell through the air. She felt her head reeling with no warning; she put a hand to it and tried to breathe through it. Jim was calling for her, she knew this, but the voice became less and less her husbands and more and more like someone else.

The lights suddenly turned off.

And he appeared.

What hit her first was a wave of emotions - fear, jealousy, panic.. But mostly anger. A lot of anger. She couldn’t tell who he was exactly, as the Shadows around them were so thick, but he pointed to her and spoke; it cut through her mind like glass.

“You should not be here,” he said, and Melinda winced every time he spoke. “You should not be here.”

“Who are you?” She asks, but he screamed, and the Shadows rushed her, and everything went dark…

… only for the lights to turn on a moment later.

Melinda blinked; somehow, she had ended up crouched on the floor, hands on her head as she looked around. Jim was immediately at her side, checking her over.

“Are you okay-?” He started, but someone else’s voice cut through his question. This time, it didn’t hurt Melinda at all.

“Jane?!?”

The couple looked over to find Jane Seymour collapsed to the ground, eyes unfocused and glassy, breathing rapidly as if panicked. With a nod from Mel, Jim rushed over to see if he could help.

“What’s happened, why is that happening again?” Katherine asks, clearly panicked.

Melinda picked up the clue. “Again? When did it happen before?”

“It happened yesterday, too,” Bessie says, stepping forward. “She’s been having these type of spells for a while now.”

“Anna had some to start with as well, Cathy too,” Joan points out. “But Jane’s been hit the hardest with them.”

Melinda nods, looking over at Jane just in time to see her gasp for air. She coughed, being helped to sit up by Jim.

“Are you alright?” Jim asks, looking the woman over.

“Jane?” Joan is right beside her queen in an instant; now Melinda knew what she meant by they took care of their queens; Joan was Jane’s Lady in Waiting in their previous life, after all.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” Jane mumbles, a hand to her head as she collects her thoughts. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

“It’s the damned ghost, that’s what’s come over you,” Katherine says, clearly angry. “What does it want and why does it keep on messing with our productions?”

Anne looked over at Melinda before stepping towards her. “Alright, I don’t quite believe you, but… what did you see? Before, in the dark?” Melinda seemed to be confused, so Anne continued. “If you’re having those vision things, I’d assume you’d have one when things go bad.”

“That’s not how it works all the time,” Melinda says, “but I did see the ghost. He was…” she swallowed thickly at the next few words, looking over at Jim. “He was surrounded by Shadows.”

Jim’s jaw set with anger for a moment, before he corrected his expression. Melinda continued.

“He said I shouldn’t be here. He was tall, that’s all I got from it.”

The lights flickered again and Melinda once again felt a wave of nausea. She blinked, squeezing her eyes shut. Catherine frowned when Anna did the same.

“We should leave,” Melinda said through shaky breaths. “Whoever it is, they’re going to try again.”

Anna is unsteady, but she powers through it to get to the alley. As soon as they’re out of the theatre, Melinda feels her head clear up considerably. She breathes a sigh of relief as she looks at Anna; she seems far better, too.

Maria steps forward. “Do you mind if we go somewhere a bit more private?” she asks, looking at the couple. “Our flat’s nearby. Might be the best place to discuss this more.”

“Sure,” Melinda says. “We’ll follow you.”

Maggie leads the group as they walk down the street, Jim and Melinda in the middle of the pack. Maria and Bessie hang at the back. They’re silent, before Maria speaks:

“You’re on the fence for this, aren’t you, Bessie?”

She sighs. “I don’t know what to think,” she replies. “But if you think she’s the answer to what’s been happening lately I think it’s worth a shot.” She shrugs. “Not like we had any success with anything else, so…”

Maria looks back at the couple, who are quietly walking, Melinda’s arm in his. “Yeah. I really think they are.”

As they walk, Jim looks Melinda over some more. “You sure you’re feeling alright?” Jim asks quietly.

Melinda glanced over then shook her head. “A little woozy,” she admits. “The visions are strong, and I think it’s because of who they are.” she gives him a small smile. “I’ll be ok. I’ve got you here.”

Jim tries to smile back, but it doesn’t meet his eyes. Melinda understands this, but her focus right now is moreso on Jane.

“She looks about as good as I feel,” Mel mumbles.

Jane looked as pale as a ghost, stumbling occasionally as they moved towards the queen’s flat. Joan was right next to her, watching her closely as they moved.

“Yeah, and Anna doesn’t look too well either,” Jim observed. Anna was at the front of the pack with Katherine, answering her questions and smiling with her, but Jim’s EMT training allowed him to see the occasional stumble and wince in pain. “It took a lot out of them, too, I think.”

“When we get to the flat,” Catherine says, having heard their conversation, “We can all take a breather there.”

Cathy watches the couple very closely for a moment before she just continues on with Catherine in tow. Catherine narrows her eyes at Cathy for a moment before moving on.

The sound of a child’s laughter rings through the area; it makes Melinda smile as she and Jim are let into the flat. From there, everyone comes together in the living room.

“The weird stuff hasn’t followed us home before,” Cathy says. “So we should be safe here.”

Melinda breathes a sigh of relief; her head already feels like it’s clearing, and some of her energy’s returned. “This place feels a lot better than the theatre.”

“Please, sit down,” Anna says, offering them two spots on the couch. Melinda and Jim sit down next to each other while the others settle down on chairs around them.

Catherine, with a small smile, starts the conversation:

“If you don’t mind, Melinda, I think it’d be best if we just get into it, okay?”

Melinda nodded, and Catherine continued.

“Maria seems to be convinced that you’ve got special powers,” Catherine replies. “And you definitely saw something at the theatre multiple times.”

Melinda nods. “It’s more powerful than what I usually deal with, to be honest,” Melinda says. “I just feel… a lot of energy, coming from all of you.” She looks around the room. “It’s not bad. It’s better than when you were at the theatre. From personal experience, that means the Shadows aren’t able to affect you here.”

“Shadows?” Cathy asks.

“They’re dark energy,” Melinda continues. “Powerful, dark, negative energy. It’s sometimes leftover energy from bad souls, other times those souls are… converted, into the Shadows.” She shivers at the thought, remembering when they took her over, remembering when they made her think and almost do terrible things…

“What’s the Shadows have to do with us?” Jane asks quietly, looking down at her hands. “Why are we being tormented?”

“And some of us more than others,” Anne replies. “It seems to be tormenting Catherine, Anna, and Jane more-”

“Is it, though?” Katherine asks. “You almost died on stage. Again.”

Melinda sat up at that. “You said that it happened before at the theatre, too. Can you tell me what’s been going on?”

They all look at each other, uncertain. Jim speaks up then.

“We want to help,” he tries. “But we need all the information we can.”

“You have to at least believe that there’s truth to what I’m saying, don’t you?” Melinda asks. “You wouldn’t have invited me into your homes if you didn’t.”

Katherine narrows her eyes. “You said you got a vision every time you touched one of us, right?” When Melinda nods, Katherine stands up in front of her and offers a hand. “Well, prove it.”

Melinda looks at Jim and, with a nod his way, looks back at the hand. With some hesitation, she takes it, and-

-she’s suddenly not in the room.

She’s on stage, the exact one Melinda had been watching only an hour before. She’s singing something, on her knees, breathing heavily as she talks about being touched and enough being enough and people supposed to be different. Just as she finishes it, she hastily blows a kiss at the audience as she gasps for air and looks up, a single pink spotlight on her.

The crowd is silent for a moment, and it seems to save her life - she can hear something above her crack.

Her eyes go wide as the spotlight momentarily is blocked by something. Realizing what’s about to happen, she instantly backs up, straight back as a bar suddenly slams right where she just was.

She gasps, catching her breath, wincing as she feels something hit her hand as the bar makes impact with the ground. She ignores the pain as someone grabs her and rushes her off stage, the audience being evacuated…

… and Melinda gasps as she is brought back to the present.

“Holy crap,” Katherine says, eyes wide. “I… Maria was right.”

“What did you see?” Bessie asks.

Melinda catches her breath for a second. “She was singing, then she looked up at the spotlight, and a bar fell and hurt her hand,” Melinda says, pointing to the mark on Katherine’s hand.

“That’s what happened Thursday,” Katherine says. “That’s what happened when I was injured. And I never told anyone who I knew about it.” Katherine looks back at Catherine. “She’s legit, swear it.”

Catherine nods at the girl and then looks at Melinda. “I think it’s enough evidence to continue,” Catherine says quietly. “Now… what would this shadow want with us?”

“The Shadows work best through people,” Melinda says. “That’s how they became a threat to us back in Grandview, they influenced people to make their move.” She shivers at the thought, but doesn’t get too into detail; they’ve only just started to trust her, she didn’t want them to be scared.

Not yet, anyways.

Catherine nods. “So you think it’s possible whoever is doing this is trying to influence us?”

Melinda leans back on the couch. “Katherine was almost killed that time, and Anne was today… did anything else happen?”

“Yeah,” Anna says. “Catherine was almost electrocuted the other day.”

Catherine winces at the memory. “I was on stage and about to sit on the throne during No Way, and suddenly the damn thing broke apart. One of the legs splintered off and cut a nearby wire. If it wasn’t for Maria, I would have been shocked.”

Melinda nods. “Anything else?”

“There was that time Katherine tripped and knocked herself unconscious last week,” Anne points out.

“And the slip and fall Catherine had,” Cathy points out.

“And Anne’s phone literally blew up in her hand the week before on stage,” Maggie added.

Jim had been keeping count. “So it’s really only been physical ‘accidents’ for Anne, Katherine, and Catherine?” He asks, nodding towards the correct C/Katherines to clarify who he was talking about.

Cathy nods. “The rest of us… when those things happen, we start to feel weird.” She crosses her arms in front of her chest defensively. “It’s like something’s there. Something cold. Something not pleasant.”

“You feel an anger, right?” Melinda asks, looking directly at Cathy. “You feel like you’re helpless, and you feel cold and angry and not yourself, right? And you can’t let that feeling go because it’s taking you over?”

Jane nods, but looks wary. “They seem scary the more you talk about them.”

“They are, to be honest,” Melinda says, looking down. “But it’s beatable. It is.” She looks up again, a gentle smile on her face. “With some support from others, we can beat it here.”

Cathy seems hesitant to say something, but after a moment (and a deep breath) she steps forward. “The ghosts that you can see… can you see anyone else?”

Melinda tilts her head, confused. “I’m sorry?”

“Do you see any other ghosts,” Cathy repeats. “Can you see any other ghosts around us?”

Melinda frowns. “Who would I be looking for?”

“A young girl, probably,” Cathy says. “Or, uhm… maybe two women, or maybe a teenaged boy.”

Melinda considers Cathy for a moment before she nods quickly, looking around the room. She’s been at this long enough that she can filter out the queen’s and ladies in waiting’s presence well enough to find other people when she needs to, but right now…

“... there’s no one else here,” Melinda says, looking back at the woman. “I’m sorry, is it someone you know?”

Cathy sighs. “It’s nothing.” She gets up and leaves.

Catherine steps in. “I’m sorry about her.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Melinda says. “I just… who was she looking for?”

Catherine isn’t sure she should answer.

Anne cuts in.

“Well,” she says, getting up. “We should probably start preparing dinner.” She smiles to try to diffuse the tension in the room; it’s kind of working.

Melinda nods and goes to stand up with Jim when Katherine gives them a look.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Kat asks, raising an eyebrow.

Melinda blinks. “Uh… didn’t you say you were preparing dinner?” she asks. “We were headed to the door.”

“But then you’d miss dinner,” Katherine replies.

“Sorry, uh, we weren’t aware we were invited,” Jim replies.

“We’ve still got a bit to talk about, if you’re interested in hanging around,” Maria says. “It’s likely this’ll happen at the show tomorrow, too. It’s been like this for a while now. And if you’re our chance of stopping it… well, I think we can all agree we’d want to give you all the time in the world to figure it out.”

“Besides,” Maggie says, smiling widely. “We need an extra hand in the kitchen. Anne’s not allowed in there since the Knife Incident.”

Melinda looked alarmed. “The accidents have been happening here, too?”

“No,” Maggie replies. “We just can’t trust Anne, Katherine, and Cathy to be on their own with a bunch of knives and a dart board anymore.”

Jim looks concerned and Melinda’s very confused.

“Which K/Catherine-” Mel starts, but the queens laugh.

Catherine motions towards the kitchen. “Come on, Melinda, you can chop up some vegetables and we can keep on chatting.”

Melinda nods, then looks over at Jim. “Are you ok with this?”

“Free dinner? Yeah, sure,” he replies, smiling back at her. “I’ll get to work on some research while you guys are talking.”

“I’d like to help with that,” Anna says. “If you don’t mind.”

Mel nods appreciatively. “The more the merrier.”

Jim gives Melinda’s shoulder a gentle squeeze, and Melinda nods in his direction. It’s an unspoken conversation between them - if Mel needed anything, she can go to Jim, and Jim’ll be there. On the flip side, if he found anything out, he could come into the kitchen to let her know. All that exchanged in two movements and no words.

Honestly, Catherine thought as she led Melinda into the kitchen, it was rather adorable how the two interacted. A happy, healthy couple who had each other’s backs. She wouldn’t know what that felt like - not really - but she’s glad at least someone seemed to have a love story out of a storybook. It was a nice change of pace from the usual.

Anna was thinking something very similar as she replaced Melinda on the couch. “You two are something special, aren’t you?”

Jim chuckled. “We’ve been at this for years,” he said, unlocking his phone. “I’m not usually this involved in it, but I’m glad to be when she asks me to.”

“You guys are really adorable,” Bessie replies with a grin.

Jim’s about to reply when Anna sharply inhales some air, frowning as she looks down at her phone. Jim springs into action.

“Can I see?” Jim asks, offering Anna his hand. With some consideration, Anna puts her wrist in Jim’s hand, watching as he looks it over. “Bessie, do you guys have a first aid kit?”

“In the closet,” Bessie nods.

“Does it have an ace bandage?”

“Yeah.”

“Bring it over, please, and some ice in a bag from the freezer if you have any,” he says, and Bessie rushes to grab the requested materials. When she’s not in earshot, Jim speaks to Anna quietly so no one else can hear: “You know, if it was hurting this much, you shouldn’t have let Katherine grab it so often on the way here…”

Anna huffs.

“How’d you know?” Anna asks, tilting her head.

“When we were walking here,” Jim said, “I noticed that you were wincing, but it wasn’t in time with the walk. Then I saw Katherine take your arm and that’s when you winced.”

Anna is impressed. “All that from looking at me?”

“I’m an EMT back at home,” he explains, taking the first aid kit and pulling out the ace bandage. He wraps it and puts the ice on top.

“Amongst other things, I take it.” Anna replies. “More like us than them, right?”

Jim looks up at her, and Anna smirks a little bit. Jim tilts his head.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Anna smiles a bit wider and goes back to researching, leaving Jim confused.

Meanwhile, Melinda had been helping prep for dinner, watching as the other queens and ladies were preparing things as well.

“Are you sure it’s ok if we join you guys for dinner?” Melinda asks, cutting the vegetables as requested.

Catherine smiles. “It’s no problem at all. It’s been a while since we were able to cook for people, anyways.��

Melinda smiles politely back before looking around - she can hear some of the others talking in the other room, she can hear a child laughing again somewhere in the building, and she can already smell the dinner cooking. It seemed… peaceful.

“How many people know about you all?” Melinda asks, going back to preparing vegetables. “The truth, I mean.”

Catherine hums. “Not many. A handful.” She nods towards Cathy, who is putting something in the oven. “Cathy is the one to keep track of that.”

“It’s mainly need to know,” Cathy says. “We don’t exactly want everyone to know, it would scare quite a bit of people.”

“So do you have fake names for the board at the front of the lobby?” Melinda asks, genuinely curious.

Cathy nods. “Just there. It’s not in the programmes or anything. Just didn’t feel right.”

Melinda nods, wincing in pain for a moment before getting her bearings together.

Catherine tilts her head. “Are you ok? Here, eat something,” she says, putting an apple in front of the woman.

Mel shakes her head. “Not really that hungry, sorry,” she mumbles, a hand to her head. She sighs. “I was running a fever back in Grandview, too, when this all happened there.”

“What else happened while you were fighting these… Shadow, things?” Katherine asks, tilting her head curiously.

Melinda swallowed. “I… was consumed by it.”

Cathy tilts her head. “Consumed?”

Mel nods. “It wore me down. I couldn’t differentiate ghosts and visions from people and real life.” Her arms involuntarily cross as she remembers. “It was scary. I didn’t think I’d find my way back. I thought I was lost.”

“What got you back?” Catherine asks.

At that, Melinda smiles. “My son. And the memories of my family, my loved ones - it helped me break through.” She frowns. “We don’t have Aiden around this time, though. He was the reason why I could break through in the first place. He gave the opening. And he’s not here.” She frowns. “So… the big question is, what are we going to do if they try to take one of you?”

No one had an answer for that.

Meanwhile, Jim and Anna were sitting in the living room, looking through papers and websites to find leads. They had sat in relative silence for a while - a comfortable one, but silence nonetheless.

It’s broken when Jim makes a small noise of annoyance and puts down a piece of paper.

Anna raises an eyebrow and looks at him. “You alright, Jim?”

He looks over, a bit surprised by the question, but sighs and answers. “Look, Anna, the last time Melinda dealt with the Shadows… she almost didn’t make it out. It’s practically a miracle that she survived.” He sighs. “I know this is important, and I wouldn’t dream of stopping her from doing her work, but-”

“You don’t want her hurt in the process.” Anna finishes, a knowing nod.

Jim leans back a bit, slightly more relaxed. “Yeah.”

Anna thinks about it for a moment before she stands up and walks over to him. “Listen, Jim… I know we’ve only just met. But from what I can tell, you two have gone through much, much worse.” She points to his hair. “Your reflection is blonde, but you definitely aren’t. So, basically… this isn’t your first body, is it?” She looks him over. “It looks good, by the way, though I think I see what Melinda saw in your reflection, which I’m assuming is your second form? So I can see who you were but in reflections I see the body you’re in now?” She shrugs. “That’s what I’ve come to the conclusion to, anyways.”

Jim sits back, absolutely floored. “I’m extremely impressed that  you figure this out so quickly - I couldn’t even figure it out for a while.”

“It was more of theory than fact, but I’m glad I was right,” she says. “Maybe souls can see souls. And maybe you’re not so different from me and my family, and maybe you’ve been through something similar. I get supporting your wife and all, but you take it to an inhuman level.”

“I’m not…” He runs a hand through his hair; guess it’s time to come clean, he supposed. “This body was someone else’s before it was mine. He crossed over, and I took his place as soon as he did.” He looks her over. “Originally, Melinda was thinking you guys did something similar to the bodies you have now.”

“We didn’t,” she assures. “I know you can’t completely trust me, but we didn’t. We showed up in these bodies.”

“Have you tried sending off DNA or fingerprints or death records?” He suggests. “We’ve seen weird stuff, Anna, maybe you all happened to die at the same time and you jumped in after that. I didn’t remember doing that at first, either-”

“We didn’t.”

The two look over to find Katherine. She’s standing in the doorway, two plates in her hands, Melinda right behind her.

“Kat-” Anna starts, but Katherine moves into the room, offering Anna and Jim plates. They both take them. Jim moves over so Melinda can sit next to him as Katherine continues.

“We showed up with them,” she says firmly, looking over at Melinda.

Mel nods. “These bodies… they’re here, but they’re not,” she explains. She frowns as she looks at Katherine’s hand. “I get visions any time I touch them, and their energies are so strong… it’s like the Shadows, but not threatening. Not dangerous.”

“That’s… not something we’ve seen before,” Jim says. “Payne might know something about that. He said to call him if anything gets wild, didn’t he?”

“I left a message for him already,” Melinda explains. She sees Jim’s worried look next to her and gently squeezes his hand, letting him know she’s okay. “We’ll have an answer tomorrow.” She looks at the group. “He’s a professor of the occult. Used to work in Grandview, now he’s researching off in the Himalayas.”

“And you think he’ll be able to help us?” Anne asks.

“I think so,” Mel confirmed.

“That’s all we can do for now, right?” Jane asks, looking around. “Just wait until Professor Payne gives us some more information?”

“I think so,” Catherine replies with a nod. She looks at the couple with a soft smile. “You two should get some rest. Call time is fairly early.”

Melinda blinks. “Call time?”

“Well,” Anne says, smiling. “You want this solved as much as we do, right? Might as well give you the best access we can.”

“So you’ll be our VIP guests for as long as you need to be,” Jane continues. “Behind the scenes access before, during, and after the show.”

“We figured it would help with the investigation,” Anna replies. “Maybe help you catch whoever’s behind it, since we’re all in agreement it’s supernaturally aligned.”

“And besides,” Jane says with a teasing grin. “If someone gets injured again, Jim won’t have an excuse for being slow to help.”

Jim chuckles at that and looks over at Melinda. “Well, I guess we’ll reschedule the ghost tour of the Tower of London.”

“Why would you pay for that?” Anne jokes, waving her hand dismissively. “You’ve already met them.”

[inglourious-imagines]

The Story of Their Lives (Lt. Aldo Raine)

Requested by: @tealaquinn

Summary: The story of Lt. Aldo Raine and Sgt. Y/N Y/L/N.

Prompts: 9 - Don't you touch her. & 12 - No one would hurt you again, or I'd kill them. & 21 - I wanna see how you lose control. & 24 - He's a badass with a good heart. & 39 - Kiss me. & 93 - You make me feel... you make me feel.

Author's Note: This is damn long so I really hope you like it! Also there are some parts in Italian so I'd like you to know, I've never learnt this language so there might be some mistakes. Feel free to send request or let me know if you wanna be tagged in these ♡

Taglist: @alienoresimagines @radiantcade @meteora-fc @kyra3155 @real-fans @not-john-watsons-blog @im-in-love-with-queen

.

.

.

Y/N and Aldo never showed some kind of an affection towards each other. They respected, trusted, appreciated the other one but these traits were common among the Basterds.

It seemed so innocent at first, almost like a teasing and none of the Jewish American soldiers expected to become it something more.

•••

They met at the very beginning of the Basterd's missions. Y/N was a french spy, a very famous one so she obviously got their attention since they'd gotten to France.

The Basterds recruited her in a bar and she immediately became one of them. Y/N fit within the group perfectly, like she was always destined to be a Basterd.

•••

After the third successful mission, they decided to stay the night in a local resistance hotel to relax and prepare for another action. Everyone went to their beds as soon as they could but Donny persuaded Y/N and Aldo to gamble a little before the sleep. 

"C'mon, just one game!" Donny pleaded. It didn't take much and the trio was sitting around a table playing their fifth game.

"I thought you're better at poker, Lieutenant." Y/N laughed as she grabbed another money she won.

"Shut up, Sergeant. I just am a bit lenient with ya, that's all." Aldo fought back, trying to cover the fact he's worse with cards than Hugo trying to actually smile for once. 

"Show me what you got, Lieutenant. I wanna see how you lose control." she winked at him and dealt the cards.

•••

Something changed in Aldo this evening. At first, Y/N was just another soldier sticking up for her country trying to end the war. But now he saw her in a totally different light.

He noticed what colour her eyes have, how she always ties her hair in a braid. 

He noticed how her cheeks blushed when he praises her after a good work.

He noticed how she scrunches her nose when she disagrees with someone. 

All those little things were filling his head. Aldo was so full of it. It was during the other mission when he completely understood his feelings.

•••

One moment and his whole world flipped. 

Aldo was so angry with himself that he missed such an important thing.

Like a gun. 

The German soldier was just kneeling in front of Aldo when he reached in his pocket. It all happened so quickly then.

The German pulled out a gun and with one last defiance he pulled the trigger. But it wasn't Aldo who got hit. 

It was the woman behind him.

Aldo was like deprived of his senses. He threw away the piece of bread he was eating and jumped at the German. If Wicki didn't pulled him back, Aldo would probably beat the guy to death.

And that was Donny's speciality.

"Don't you fuckin' touch her! Or look at her!" Aldo shouted hitting his face with his fist one more time.

Y/N was so taken away by his behaviour, not really sure where the anger got from.

"What the hell, Lieutenant?" she frowned, "it's just a goddamn scratch on my arm. The bullet didn't even hit me properly." 

Aldo froze whereas Donny and Hugo looked at each other with knowing smiles. They finally realised what was going on.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he tried to brush it off, gesturing to the Basterds to continue with the scalping. "It's fuckin' bleedin' a lot!"

"It's fine. Nothing too serious, Lieutenant." Y/N replied.

Aldo just shook his head as he took off his scarf and tied it around the wound. "No one would hurt ya again, or I'd kill 'em."

•••

The Basterds got ordered to rest a bit because there was a big mission on its way. They didn't know what it was but they all welcomed a full night sleep.

But Y/N didn't feel like going to bed. Instead, she took her cigarettes and sat at the balcony of the apartment they got settled in.

It was a chilly night but she didn't mind. She actually liked cold more than heat.

"Aldo seems a bit off lately." Donny's voice broke the silence as he positioned himself next to her.

"What you mean?" she asked offering him a cigarette which he gladly accepted. 

"Remember how he beated up the German officer two weeks ago? I've never seen him like that."

"Oh Donny. He's just a badass with a good heart. I assure you, Aldo's just fine."

Donny shrugged but didn't say anything. This wasn't his secret to tell even though the change in Aldo's behaviour towards her was so damn obvious. 

Donowitz glanced at Y/N smiling a bit. He understood why Aldo fell for the female Basterd. 

•••

Bridget von Hammersmark was laying in front of them with a bullet in her leg while Hugo, Archie and Wicki were dead.

Y/N was standing in the corner of the room, lost in her thoughts, mourning for her lost friends. She knew something like that had to happen but she also believed in Basterds and part of her thought that they'll all come back home one day.

Y/N wasn't able to look at the actress anymore. She quickly left the room not looking at anyone while she lighted her cigarette. It'd been becoming too much to handle for her.

"Are you alright?" Aldo frowned as he walked towards her. "You still in?"

She laughed sarcastically at his question sheaking her head. "Yeah, of course, business. I'm in, Lieutenant."

"I didn't mean in like that and ya know it."

"Yeah, sorry. It's just-"

"I know, Sergeant. This whole event got me thinkin'. I gotta tell you something."

Y/N threw away her cigarette as she looked directly at him. She wasn't sure if it was the light or the sentiment, but Aldo's eyes never seemed so beautiful to her like they did in that moment. 

"The truth is," Raine began as he stepped closer, "you make me feel... you make me feel, Sergeant."

•••

When Y/N stepped into the room in a black plain tight dress, the conversation between the Basterds immediately stopped. They'd never seen her in anything but in uniform or the civilian clothes. Donny dropped the glass of whiskey he was drinking, Hugo's knife fell on the ground with a loud crash, Omar and Wicki stayed there with their mouths wide opened, Archie Hicox smirked and Aldo, Aldo was taken away and wasn't able to get out a word.

"Please, gentlemen! This is how you welcome a beautiful woman? She looks magnificent!" Bridget von Hammersmark exclaimed gesturing towards Y/N.

"It's so uncomfortable," Y/N frowned and tried to adjust the dress a little, "and so impractical." 

"I think it's perfect." Aldo breathed out and Bridget smiled in satisfaction.

Y/N truly looked like a completely new person. And Aldo's feelings mixed once again. She was so special to him, like water is special to desert. His life was dry without an excitment. She was the water that refreshed him after a long time of loneliness.

•••

Bridget, Aldo, Y/N, Donny and Omar stepped into the small local cinema, already so full of Nazi officers.

"It makes me sick." Y/N snorted as she looked around on the German uniforms. "I have two knives and a gun and I'm not afraid to use them right now."

Aldo laughed next to her and gallantly put his hand on her hip pulling her closely to him.

"Just relax, darlin'. We'll do that later." Aldo winked at her, not letting her go for a moment.

Bridget suddenly seemed like she'd seen a ghost. An older man approached their little group and Y/N immediately understood with whom they have the honor.

Bridget and Hans Landa shared a short conversation before they turned to them. Hammersmark formally introduced the Basterds and Y/N flinched a little under the German's look. Aldo noticed right away her change of attitude and stroked her hip gently.

"Sei assolutamente incredibile, signorina! Ho notato che molti ufficiali hanno voltato la testa dopo di te." (You look absolutely stunning, miss! I noticed that many officers turned their head after you.) Hans Landa grinned and Y/N thought it was the most disgusting thing ever.

"Grazie mille signore. Sono sicuro che stai esagerando." (Thank you very much, sir. I'm sure you're exaggerating.) Y/N faked a smile and clenched her hand in fist to remain calm.

All of the Basterds with Bridget jerked their heads towards her. Her fluent Italian took them away as well as Landa.

"Quanto amo la lingua italiana! E dalla bocca di una donna così bella, è una musica per le mie orecchie." (How I love the Italian language! And from the mouth of such a beautiful lady, it's a music for my ears.)

"Mi stai adulando, signor Landa. Non hai un brutto aspetto." (You're flattering me, Mr Landa. You don't look so bad yourself.) Y/N felt like vomitting any next second. 

Aldo had enough of Landa's fake attitude, especially how Y/N looked so stressed and angry. He decided he has to step in or she won't hold herself back. Aldo recalled the one sentence he learnt yesterday, just in case he'd need to interrupt a moment in a formal way. This was the time.

"Baciami, adesso." (Kiss me, right now.) he stated and pulled Y/N even closer than before. She didn't manage to prostest or ask a quick question and their lips touched. She returned the kiss immediately and ran her fingers through his hair.

Until someone coughed.

They pulled apart from each other, Aldo smiling widely like a winner and Y/N blushing harder than ever.

"Ci scusi signore. Il mio ragazzo qui è un tipo appassionato. Devi perdonarlo." (Excuse us, sir. My boyfriend here is the passionate kind. You must forgive him.) Y/N stuttered and but looked directly at Landa.

•••

Operation Kino was over and it was now only her, Aldo and Utivich. They lost everybody along the way. They stood together side by side through everything. They'd become something stronger than family, friends, lovers. They faced death together and nothing could break the bond they'd created over the years. It was time to go home.

Y/N stood on the ship that was taking the Basterds, or what was left of them, home. The wind was dancing on her hair whispering secrets in her ears.

"I never thought I'd make it back home." Aldo Raine appeared next to her with a cigarette between his lips.

"None of us thought so, Lieutenant." she nodded, "but the difference is, we were wrong. Not them."

"Smart as always." Aldo grinned as he turned to her. "You should stop calling me Lieutenant. The war's over."

Y/N giggled at his statement and he could swear he'd never heard something so melodic, something so right. 

"It kinda sticked with you, Lieutenant."

Aldo didn't answer, instead he threw away the cigarette and took some deep breaths. He needed whiskey, or anything else that would give him at least a bit of courage.

Aldo Raine fought in war, he saw his friends die, he was broken by everything he saw and still, asking Y/N a simple question seemed harder than surviving the bloodshed.

"Spill it out, Lieutenant." she laughed as she glanced at him. 

"I hate how ya always do that. But here it goes," Aldo replied, "I've never been good at this so I'll just keep it short."

He stopped for a moment and stared at the woman in front of him. As he stepped closer, his heart was already racing like it'd never before.

"Why don't ya come to the States with me? We can buy some little house in the Smoky Mountains and live there for the rest of our fuckin' lives." Aldo confessed in his Raine kind of way, looking at her with so much hope in his eyes. 

"Is this some kind of your proposal?" Y/N chuckled as she intertwined her fingers with his.

"Maybe."

"I thought you'd never ask! Of course I'll come with you! You're everything I have, Aldo." 

[peachyunjinnie]

❝there’s always a first time❞ hjs ― m.

― summary:

your brother seungmin is very protective over you, but one day your best friend gave you a stick and poke tattoo and you get an infection. fortunately seungmin’s friend jisung as a hobby tattoo fanatic helps you take care of it and when seungmin wasn’t there you two decide to run away.

badboy!jisung/goodgirl!reader | fluff, smut | 5.3k ↬ content warnings: swear words, the mention of alcohol and drugs. drunk/high sex, with a little size and corruption kink.

a/n: i had this idea a couple of days ago and i tried my best to get this idea into a fic, i hope you enjoy it !!

→ blogs masterlist

The relationship between me and my cousin Seungmin is better than with anyone else, you could say that we could consider ourselves as siblings and even best friends. We had the same taste in humor and even better lived in the same house after my mother died right after she gave birth to me. My father ended up bringing me to my aunt and uncle at the age of 2. 

Seungmin is 1 year older and has ‘BBPI’ as he calls it which means Big Brother Protection Instinct. I know, complete nonsense and as a 16-year old I don’t get why I have to be protected. Well, as Seungmin said I am still ‘his small sister’. Pathetic. As said before Seungmin is 1 year older to be exact 11 months and 28 days and has friends, for whatever reason, he has a whole group. Well, he warned me about one of them, the walking trouble: Han Jisung. He basically is the opposite of me, a 180 if you want to say it.

He stole the car of his stepfather numerous of times and I remember seeing him drunk and completely stoned in school, that I will never forget. Last year he was stumbling through the hallways of our school. His hair messy and his smile never leaving his lips. He had the hardest time trying to keep his eyes open, or even just keeping his legs moving. And the best part, he puked on his teacher's chest. It was the highlight of the whole day, no the whole semester. His stepfather thank god is very wealthy and managed to keep him in school, somehow.

I heard a lot of rumors about this Jisung and I really do not want to believe that he was in the Russian mafia boss nor do I want to believe that he killed his father and is living with his mother who helped him. It was really funny though to hear how unique and ridiculous the fantasies and the gossip was at our school, I mean a Russian mafia boss, seriously?

I hung out with my own friends, but sometimes I would get to talk and just meet my brother’s friends. In conclusion, we even had the same taste in friends. They were really nice. I really have the best friendship with Felix and Changbin. Felix firstly has an excellent taste in music and humor, secondly, he is by far one of the most concentrated gamer I’ve ever met. Changbin is just Changbin. He is kind of annoying and clingy with his friends. Which you would’ve never expected from this buff hulk. And to be completely honest with you, Changbin and Lix...are kind of cute together.

Well, with Seungmin being as protective as he is, he has told me clearly that dating is already a picky topic but dating one of his group members. I think he would be as angry as he was when I asked him what a ‘Day6′ was. He really ignored me for 3 weeks straight, with a text message saying ‘if you know who wonpil is then you are allowed to talk to me’. (stan day6, cowards.)

“Stop moving so much, I’ve done it before and you’re overreacting.” She whisper-screamed. She was nearly done with her K on my thigh, It was way bigger than I thought it would be, but it looked good.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m just getting poked by a hot needle on my thigh over and over again.” My sarcasm was louder than the thoughts in my head that were shouting lines of ‘you’re so in trouble’ or ‘you will never be able to get this off your skin’. 

“So.. Here we go. Done.” She said as she was looking at her masterpiece of a K on my thigh of the size of a thumb. But it looked even and nice. She has done a (The first letter of y/n) on her thigh. I cannot believe how red it was though, and swollen. Extremely swollen

“Kim, when will it be ‘okay’?” I asked her with a slight nervous undertone. I really am the biggest chicken on earth. She opened her bag and got saran wrap. She took some out and wrapped it over her creation with such a soft touch. I still cringed and squinched.

“Maybe a week or two. It doesn’t take too long.” She smiled at our bond. I smiled with her. We ended up in a big hug and stayed like this for some time before she packed her stuff and headed out.

I admired her work on my thigh and stood up, with an overwhelming pain spreading across my thigh. I couldn’t stand up on my own feet, my thigh stung extremely and harshly. 

Panic rising through me, what the heck should I do now? Should I call my mom and tell her about it? Should I tell Seungmin and ask him for help? Should I just emigrate to Brazil and start my new life as a Silvia Theresa Rodriguez? 

I crawled to my bed and tried my best to let the 2 years drama club pay off. I called my mom and asked for a painkiller. She came up to my room and sat on the edge of my bed.

“Honey, is everything okay?” Her concerned eyes scanned my body and noticed my messy hair and my pale face. I coughed.

“Mom, I-I’m sick.” She sat there and looked at me and gave me the painkiller with a glass of water. 

I snatched it out of her hand and gulped the pill down as if it were the only banana in the jungle. Her concern grew faster and she shook her head.

“I’m going to call your teacher. You’re not going to school.” She said as she got off my bed and walked off with her phone in her hand, dialing the number.

After the longest 8 hours, Seungmin came home, and thank god came into my room. With a bag of McDonald's and a big smile, he went to my bed and sat down. 

“Why didn’t you come to school?” He gave me the bag and with a breathtaking smell of fat and fast food filling my nose and getting the best of me. 

“Oh, I am sick my head hurt a little, and mom overreacted.” I said with a huge load of fries in my mouth.

With a small pat on my thigh, he hit the right spot of the K and a shriek came out, my whole body tensing up and Seungmin looking at my covered thigh. He took the blanket off. My shorts relieving the now swollen and slightly scabbing spot. 

A moment of silence filled the room and Seungmins face has gotten from a healthy color to a concerning red and then to a frightening purple.

“Surprise...” I smiled awkwardly.

“Y/N, you got a fucking tattoo...” His voice was a low growl, but still, you could clearly hear the pure panic in his voice.

“Uhm, haha yea. So I made it myself, you like it?” My shaking voice showing the state of mine. My thigh looked pretty bad and as painful as it would’ve been, without the painkillers.

“Did you disinfect it?” My whole head went blank. Of course, it was so swollen and scabbing, Kim didn’t disinfect it. My face went paler than pale and I rethought the consequences of an infection.

“Okay, I’ll take that as a no. Get your shoes and we will get to my friend he will help you.” He really was very serious about the infection so I stood up with a numb pain, but not as overwhelming as it was yesterday. I searched for my shoes and directly followed him.

A quick bus ride and a small foot-march later there was a big but still small and cozy house. Red and white, reminding me of a red velvet cupcake. Looks fancy but is cute at the same time. The grass and the dwarfs decorating the beautiful view. A middle-aged lady working in the garden, planting in seeds and watering the red tulips. 

“Hello, Mrs. Han is Jisung home?” He grinned at her.

“Oh hello, Seungmin. Nice to see you again!” She smiled at him with a motherly aura surrounding her. She hugged him and I could see that she liked Seungmin a lot. He didn’t really know what to do awkwardly stood there and let her do. She noticed me standing there and hiding behind Seungmin's tall figure and met with her warm brown eyes.

“Hello, and who are you?” she asked with a bigger smile.

“Uh, I am Seungmins sister.” I immediately trusted her and her warm embrace.

“Ah yes, I can see the model genes going in the family. You seem like you’re in a big rush to see Jisung, he’s in his room.” She told us and saw my embarrassed blush across my face as Seungmin took my hand and yanked me downstairs to where Jisung was.

The basement as a room, interesting. It was colored black and had a lot of posters of some bands that I have never heard of. There he was on his bed smoking a cigarette and admiring his newest addition to his arm, a slightly red and in saran wrapped tattoo. A small skull drinking from a glass bottle, very precise and well made. He sat there and continued to smoke.

“Seungmin, what’s up.” he took a puff. Not giving anyone a single look. His hand tapping over his forearm and keep admiring his skull. 

“I need your help. My sister made a tattoo and now it’s infected. Do you know what to do?” Seungmin seemed very concerned and worried. Jisung stood up and chuckled a little.

“The little Y/N, has a tattoo?” He asked me and looked down at me. 

His eyes have the same warm brown as his mothers and I weirdly trusted him regardless of his reputation. His hair was dyed a very light blonde and his face was very chubby, unlike his body which was athletic: muscular but slim. He had two tears on his face and my thoughts went crazy. Who in the actual hell did he kill and the rumors of Jisung being a Russian mafia boss came into my mind and I reconsidered if I should be worried to be in a room with him?

“Seungmin, I have some lemonade for you.” Mrs. Han's voice echoed through the basement and he looked at Jisung.

“Go for it, I will take care of her.” He gave him green light and Seungmin looked at him with a look in his eyes. Which could be translated into ‘If you hit on my sister, I will drag your corpse to the nearest forest and let you get eaten by the birds’. Jisung nodded and Seungmin went upstairs.

“So tell me, how did you do that?” He said with a smile as he pointed to my infected K. His hair falling on his face, a little messy but still perfectly proportional.

“Uhm, a long story...” He went to his desk and took out a liquid and a cotton pad. He pushed the chair next to the bed and patted the bed. I quickly sat down. Him in front of me.

“I have time, come on.” He looked up and gave me a simper. I felt a small tickle again and wanted to trust him with it.

“Well uh, my friend Kim wanted to get us bonded. She took a needle and poked my skin for some time until it was done.” He laughed a little, letting me see his whites. 

“You stick and poked and didn’t disinfect it?” His eyes still on mine and not leaving the look they had, of the warm and soft chocolate brown.

“No, we didn’t and stop making fun of me- Ah-” His cold hand touching my thigh. My body stiffened and it was hard to relax.

“Calm down, relax. You wanna listen to music? disinfecting this will be a little uncomfortable.” He stood up and walked to his stereo. He took out a cassette and stuck one in. A prehistoric cassette, I haven’t seen this since I listened to Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban one years ago. After some seconds of silence, ‘All The Small Things’ by blink-182 boosted through the speakers.

He turned around and sat down again and wet the pad with this liquid. He took off the wrap and the air hit the wound. It was a stinging soreness, that leads me to look away and bite my lower lip, hard.

He took the wet pad and started to clean up the wound as careful and gentle as possible, the stinging and burning pain was a very harsh rush of pain. I whined and groaned loudly.

“Does it hurt?” He asked as he was still cleaning up.

“Well, yes,” I said with a small whine.

“Good. If I see you with a new tattoo I will get you punished.” his voice getting raspier and raspier. But he still cleaned the wound up and was done with the disinfecting. He stood up again and got some of the saran wraps and pointed his finger, signaling me to stand up.

I stood up from his bed and he kneeled down to wrap it up. His hands still very cold and tickling my thigh. 

“So Kim, is your friend?” His voice a little absent.

“Yes, my best.” I had to automatically smile.

“Tell me about her, how is she like?” I was surprised at his interest in my personal life but answered him.

“Oh, um she is reckless and she never thinks about her actions. She makes out stupid things that I have to box her out of. But she also has a nice and gentle side that not many know. I love her a lot.” I smiled at our memories and how easy it was to be myself around her.

As I was in my thoughts, Jisung took out a bottle of Jack Daniels and takes a glass. He gets him a good amount and gets another glass after seeing my big eyes. After a long friendship with Kim who was known for drinking, I have never drunk any alcohol, well until today. He gave me a glass full of brown fluid.

“I- I can’t believe we did that.” I laughed as Jisung was holding my hand walking on an abandoned street in the middle of nowhere. He had given me a big sip of the whiskey, it was a burning sensation of my taste buds being confused and curious for more. 

“It’s better, not being sober right?” He asked stumbling into the sunset.The bitter taste of the alcohol and the adrenaline of me running away with a friend of my brother without his permission. I felt every single touch of his hand tightening and holding my hand in his clutches not letting go.

“Come on drink it, Y/N. The painkillers are not going to help you any better than Jackie will.” He smiled and waved the glass in front of my nose. I mean I never was drunk and I want to know what it’s like. My curiosity and stupidity have gotten control of me and I accepted with a shaky hand. 

I took a small sip of the whiskey and the bitter and stinging sensation was so disgusting. I couldn’t swallow it and started to look around for somewhere to spit it at. But with Jisung forcing me to look up at him with his fingers, pushing my head upwards. 

“Swallow it, now.” his eyes burning holes into mine and letting me breathless with no other choice other than swallow. I gulped the fluid down and the burn in my throat was unbelievably harsh. 

“Good girl, now. If Seungmin sees your ass drunk this will be very dangerous for both us. Do you have any other clothes or is this everything you’ve got?” He already searched in his closet and gave me a black hoodie with some jeans. 

“Here you go. Hurry up, my mom is not going to keep him for any longer.” He went upstairs and left me with there a little tipsy and with some clothes from this boy that I barely knew. 

After getting them on I noticed the size difference, Jisung has it in L. On me it was XXL. The size was really funny and the jeans that should hug his waist like they are on the ones he is wearing, are now hanging from my pelvic bone. I saw my reflection of the mirror and busted out in laughter. 

Jisung came down and looked at my new outfit, and laughed as well. He came in front of me and squished my cheeks. He played with them and ruffled my hair into a mess, I officially am looking like I just woke up with my PJ’s. 

“You look so cute, this stuff is the tightest clothing that I have and your body is just sliding through.” He smiled and looked into my eyes, his hands still cupping my cheeks. A strong smell of alcohol and cigarettes leaving him, mixing with his cologne.

He stepped back and admired this baggy look. He had a hand on his chin, thinking about what can make it look even better than it already does. With an idea in his mind he sought for.... a belt. 

He took the of course black belt and put it over my waist. I almost wanted to remind him that I am not a toddler and can put on a belt myself, but the sudden closeness of him and his firm grip on his jeans on me. My heart did a small tap dance, but he continued to put it on with no sign of hesitation.

“This looks better. Take your shoes and let’s get out of here.” Trouble, that was what I am going to get after this. Am I out of my mind going with Jisung with no other thought? Am I dumb for trusting this dude that threw up on his teacher's chest in the hallway last year?

He packed his bag with a shit ton of bottles and some other stuff that I don’t even want to know what it is, the curiosity of what is in this bag now really bugged me. What did he have in this bag? He started to notice my glare on his black backpack.

“You ever had drugs, little one?” He asked as if it was the most normal thing to ask a 16-year-old. If I ever had drugs, the small sips of this weird and burning stuff and the coffee I had in the morning.

“N-No.” My stutter surprised me and the sudden tension started to get harder and intense. My subconscious shouted in my head to get out and go home with Seungmin, but this Jisung really had something and I wanted to explore that.

“There’s always a first time and I needed to go out anyway. You wanna meet my friends?” His smirk was absolutely precious and there was no way in hell that I could say no to this face. After my agreement, he smiled even brighter than before. He took some of his rings and gave those to me and some chains. I looked so different from what I daily wear and with a hat my appearance was complete.

“I-It’s so much better. Not having this pressure.” After another big gulp of the whiskey, he threw the bottle to the road and opened his bag. A see-through water like a bottle. He gave it to me and I opened it after some seconds of struggle. We stumbled through the sunset of the lonely and empty roads of a beautiful panorama.

“Le-Let’s sit down for a while. I am so ti-tired.” I laughed and sat down on the empty road. He joined me and took the opened vodka bottle from me and took a small sip after gasping dramatically and getting a green bag out of his pocket. It looked like leaves and after a long time of finding out what it was, I knew it when he started to build a joint.

I took the bottle and drank the alcohol. I couldn’t believe this scenario, I am drunk and I am about to get high. I will get so much damage for this one night, but it still felt like it was a Bonnie and Clyde after play. Such a euphoric moment, and a moment I would’ve never have dreamed of.

So deep in my own thoughts and my own actions and with this alcohol in my hands, I didn’t see that Jisung was already done with his work. He saw my lazy eyes and pointed out to his bag.

“Hey, listen to music on my phone the code is 0325.” I crawled over to his bag and searched for the perfect song and here it was. New Flesh by the Current Joys, a carefree and a lighthearted song. The song started playing and Jisung snickered.

“I start to really learn a new si-side of you. Little miss Y/N.” He finished his joint and licked it clean. He grabbed in his bag and pulled out speakers. This bag really is a survival kit. He connected them to his phone and the music blasted out with such an enormous volume.

He took out his lighter and the fire sneaked it’s way through the marijuana and gives out a really unique smell. He seemed relaxed and fell on his back. He now was lying on the hard and cold cement road, his little relaxing tool between his fingers.

“So you never smoked before, like ever?”He has gotten up again and let his arm over my shoulder, giving me a really focused look.

“N-Nah.” I giggled for no reason. My head felt dizzy and my vision getting blurry after breathing in second-hand smoke.

“So I’m gonna show you, ho-how to do it the right way.” He smiled and almost closing his eyes completely.

He took my face into his hand and held the joint on the other hand. He gave it to me and I held it the best way I could, trying to let it fall down. I took a big hit and coughed all of the smoke out in a matter of 3 seconds.

He laughed uncontrollably and as he was laughing my head started to turn, my stomach started to growl and my mouth was getting dry. I honestly did not expect it to work that easily but I felt the difference in my body. I took another puff of it and another.

With a little time it has gotten easier and better to not cough. Jisung after not talking for what seemed like a whole eternity, started to notice that the sky is getting darker. He saw a whole field next to the road and threw his stuff in there and threw himself as well.

“Come here! The field is soft.” He shouted from his new spot and I giggled and jumped on top of him. His laugh resounded through the emptiness surrounding us and my giggle became a little quieter when I felt his hand on my hip. As before, when he put on the belt for me, my face grew hot and my eyes stayed on him and I played with his hair. He stroked my body with his fingertips, it feeling like electric wires rushing through my hot body. 

I leaned down and then kissed his soft lips. Right at this moment I didn’t care about anyone. My brother, my parents, my friends not even my own thoughts that screamed in my head to cut it off and go home. I wanted to live and wanted to enjoy, feel this moment. Exactly live in this moment right here and there. In a field in the middle of nowhere with the music still blasting somewhere near us and the taste of alcohol still running through my mouth and most importantly, Jisung being right here and there. 

“I d-don’t want to pressure you to anything, Y/N.-” I shushed him up with another kiss and his smile making the butterflies in my tummy explode into a mess. He tucked on his hoodie and leaned into my ear.

“I am sure you look even better without my hoodie on.”

I giggled loudly, his hand getting lost on the inside of my hoodie. Grasping on my bra and massaging it softly. My world turning in circles and the music still playing on the highest volume from the speakers, somewhere in the grass.

“I want you, now.” I said, looking down to him. I took off my hoodie and threw it next to Jisung beneath me. His hands still on me, my hair falling down to the side of his face. I was needy and what could feed this hunger was him.

“If your brother could see his little girl…” he smiled at my face being some small inches in front of his. the taste of the marijuana in my mouth mixed with the strong vodka and whiskey was driving me into the dumbest things.

I kissed his soft lips, touching them a little and his tongue rolling with mine. He tasted like danger and everything forbidden for me, giving me a thrill of my life. I continued to go down his neck, sucking the best I could making it hard due to the lack of energy.

“You’re doing great, little one.” He moaned when I once reached his hard and perky abs, leaving a trail of bruises and hickeys all the way down here. He groaned once I unlocked his belt and pushed his jeans down to his boxers. The outline of his dick was hardly poking out, getting me to an idea of my first blowjob ever.

I pulled the off and there he was, poking at me. The hard and red tip, cum dripping on them slightly. I took him in my hands, carefully pumping him. His eyes following my actions his whines and stares telling me to put him in my mouth, I couldn’t get him all in, him laughing at me trying my hardest to deepthroat.

“Your little mouth is amazing.” He mumbled with his eyes closed tightly, his hands getting lost in my hair. Moans and grunts getting me wetter and wetter. I couldn’t breathe and with my mouth being filled up completely, my eyes turning to the back of my head.

I backed up and took some time to breathe, a string of saliva connecting my lips with his wet and throbbing dick. He pushed his hair back, his hand still on my head, grabbing and pulling at it hardly. I choked lightly on his pressure on my head, pushing me down and forcefully getting me down. After some seconds of complete silence he let go and a broken groan echoed through my dizzy head.

“Uh fuck, how can this small mouth get all that in?” He smiled looking down at me with his lazy eyes on the string of saliva connecting his tip to my lips. I started to laugh out, the feeling of a dick in my mouth reminding me of a Popsicle. He laughed as well, this whole scenario being unbelievable. It was deep dark outside, the only light being the lanterns of the side street and the moon, shining out heavily. The wheat among us, the music that still played beside us.

He suddenly stopped giggling immediately and closed his eyes. His head was thrown to the ground and he held my head in his hands, still thrusting into my mouth hardly.

“Wh-Where can I c-cum?” He stuttered and I just continued to bop my head down his length, feeling every inch in my mouth, I choked a little on the twitch of his cock. “Fuuuck.” He groaned loud through the hard beats of the music. I felt his dick twitch again in my throat and as I moaned the vibrations got him to spill his load into my mouth. The warm liquid running through my throat, I choked once again and the shivers went down my spine mercilessly.

“Ah fuck.” He tried to collect his breath, moaning more curse words. I still sucked at the tip and popped him out of my mouth, his seeds running down my lips. I looked up at his brown eyes, stars above us reflecting in them. He had the warmest and softest expression on his face, starring down at my cum filled mouth, trying my hardest to swallow everything.

“Now it’s your turn, princess.”

[twisted-fun-funny-stories]

can I please request headcanon for Kalim,Vil,riddle and Leona with a female s/o who love the theater and preforming

This one was a bit tough because I myself do not have any experience in acting or theatre so I am going mainly based on what I remember from high school. Hope I did this correctly

Kalim Al-Asim

He loves that you are more outgoing and how much work you are willing to put in to ensure the play is a success

As an outgoing person himself that loves to express himself, he likes to have someone with a similar type of energy as him

He still remembers the first time you were on stage in a play

You were playing the heroine, a princess who only wanted to be set free from the chains of society and be themselves

He felt every emotion you went through and even realized that you were adlibbing some of the lines to make it fit the scene more

He loves your acting and he also loves that you went though every single line with tons of passion

The first time you two met face to face was when after the play, he ran up to you, shaking your hand and praising your acting

“I loved your acting! OMG! It was so great that I…I can’t even put into words! Anyways, if you want to hang out some time, come to my party! I’ll treat to rides on magic carpets and camels and also a ton of delicious food!”

He was all over the place (my poor boi got too excited)

But you decided to take up on his invite and you never regretted it

Ever since he always come to your plays and in return, you would go to his parties

The one time that you asked him to help you rehearse, you kinda regretted it because he had a hard time taking it seriously

He would either smile or laugh too much in the middle of a line or have a hard time acting sad or serious

That was probably the first time you scolded him directly because of it

But at least you know that he can always play the comedic relief sidekick when you needed him to because you know Kalim is at his best when he smiles and having fun

Vil Schoenheit

He adores that you always give your best on every performance you put on

From the makeup and the costumes to when you act on stage in front of tons of people, he can always see that you take acting seriously and that you were passionate about it

He remembers that the first time he saw your acting, you were reenacting a sad scene where the lover dies in front of you

He could care less about his eyeliner not being perfect from the tears he shed from watching you cry as you held your lover in your hands with tears running down your cheek

As you say every single line with the right amount of sadness and frustration from your supposed lover dying in your arms, Vil felt his heart break slightly

Which is the main goal of an actor is to get the emotions across in the most convincing way possible

He came up to you after the play, kissing your hand as he got on one knee and giving you a charming smile the essence of a prince character

“Your performance was one of the best I have ever seen. I never get to see actresses like you with so much passion and with grace.”

Whenever you were free, Vil always takes you to the Pomefiore dorm to teach you some makeup tips and recommend you some beauty products

With a side of warnings like “An actress always has to make sure they look like they are at their best condition” or “Never let your guard down, your beauty is one of the most important things to look after”

He also became in charge of your costumes, claiming that these old-fashioned costumes conceal the beautiful actress you are

In which he likes to design a lot of feminine clothing that match your figure and colors that match your complexion and makeup (with his own quirks in there too)

You also realize that he is also a good acting partner if you ever needed help in rehearsing

probably because you guys have that dramatic beauty queen vibe

Your heart always skips a beat whenever he plays the prince, not only because he is quite handsome (and he knows firsthand that he is) but also the way he projects his voice and the character’s personality is close to perfect

Ever play he attends to your plays, he will always wait for you with a bouquet of roses in his hand and treats you to a spa day for all the hard work you put in

Also he doesn’t tell you that he goes to all of your plays, even if he had seen it dozens of times because that’s how much he loves your acting  

Riddle Roseheart

Similar to Vil, he appreciates your passion towards theatre and acting

Although he may not share the exact passion you have, he likes how you work hard towards something you really like

He saw your first performance when you were Alice from Alice in Wonderland

Not only he loved the way you looked in the classic blue dress she wore but also how you were able to catch her curiosity through the way you interacted with each character

In his eyes, you were the only person fit to play as Alice

After the play, he came up to you with a small smile on his face

“Your performance was fantastic, I can see that you are passionate about it and I am quite pleased.”

Ever since, Riddle often invites to little tea parties where you guys just chat away with very little regard to time

Often during these chats, he makes small references to the plays you do, including Alice in Wonderland character lines where in return you respond with your character’s lines

“I can’t go back to yesterday because I was a different person then” (Alice in Wonderland Quote)

When he had the time, he will come to your plays in secret, making sure that you are not aware that he is there only because he would not like to let you know that he comes to every single play you are in 

He is the type of person that if the play is based on the book, then he will go get the book to better understand the play

Or if it’s based on a movie, he would buy the movie and watch it, making note of plot and character development

Sometimes he even goes to say that either the play did not include too many of the famous lines from the book or the play did not really follow the plot as much as he wanted

But he never downplays your acting as he always states that you’re acting is perfect as ever, but rather it’s the lines or the script that do ruin it a bit

When you have a hard time grasping the character, Riddle is very good at summarizing the feelings of the situation or how the characters would react

“I think you should act more surprised here as she is not aware of the current situation. Also, when you are walking in, make note of the position of your feet. You are a proper royal lady, so you must walk like one.”

Although he will not act with you (mainly because he’s embarrassed of the difference in talent) he will be your director if you need help rehearsing, making sure you are following the script correctly

It gotten to a point where you recommend him to assist in directing if he had read the book to the play you are doing

But be warned, he tends to be a bit bossy because he just things to be perfect, but he does know when he has gone too far and will stop before it gets to that state

Leona Kingscholar

Okay initially he is not a fan (probably because he is reminded of Vil, which he is not a big fan of because they’re polar opposites)

However, he changed his mind when he happen to see you at a play being taken place in the courtyard

At first he was annoyed that the music and the actors were being too loud for him to take a nap so he decided to watch a little bit of it to see if it was worth his time

When he saw you on stage, he couldn’t take his eyes of you

The way you acted on stage is different from the other actors on stage

You have a bit of fire inside you and he really like that

One day at school, he recognized you in the halls, talking to someone and he decide to talk to you

He leaned against the wall and waited behind you until he got noticed, in which when you turned around  

You were surprised to see the dorm leader of Savanaclaw with a small smirk on his face

“Eh…so you are (y/n). I saw a bit of your performance yesterday and I must say that it’s rare to find me impressed with something.”

From then on, he would go watch your plays in secret and hang out with you outside of school when he can

He NEVER tells you that he actually watched the entire play but he would say that he got to see the iconic parts where you were in it

But you find out he was lying when one day he let it slip when you were talking about the play

For that one day, there was a problem with the lights, so it took time to fix it in the beginning, which results in delays

You were complaining about it to Leona in which Leona just nodded to show that he was listening and responded with,

Leona: “Yea, that was a disappointment, honestly they should check beforehand.”

(y/n): “But didn’t you say that you only got to watch from the middle of the play?”

Leona: “…” (got caught)

You couldn’t hide your smirk when you caught Leona in his lies and always make remarks about the time he let it slip big time

You are aware that acting is not up Leona’s alley, so you try to keep conversations about it to a minimum

But Leona reassures you that he is fine with you talking about it because he kinda likes when you go off into a long conversation about acting and theatre (as long as it’s not an everyday thing)

It reminds him of the fire he saw in you when he first saw you perform on stage and subtly encourages you to keep up with it

Though he does appreciates when you don’t babble on about a topic he particularly is not good with (*cough* *cough* Vil with makeup and fashion *cough*)

[ootori-sibs]

Kyoya's second shot

Episode four: Read all about it!

The newspaper was out first thing in the morning, and Kyoya was reading over it when Tamaki walked into the classroom. He silently glanced over, handing him the newspaper with an expression that expressed nothing but pity. Tamaki frowned as he took the newspaper, eyes widening at the headline. Just as Kyoya expected, Tamaki was deathly silent as his eyes scanned over the article, again and again, until the words lost all meaning. A quick glance around told him that everyone in the classroom had their eyes on the king, waiting for his reaction.

When he realised the words weren't going to change, he looked up at Kyoya, voice dry, "do you believe this..?" He wasn't just asking Kyoya, he was asking himself, but Kyoya would answer for both.

"I'm not sure," he began, doing his best to feign innocence, "her and Haruhi have always been quite close don't you think? Although Renge does seem a little too boycrazy, despite her previous crush on Haruhi…" he was telling the truth, but putting his trust in Renge still left Haruhi with the burden of blame. Tamaki didn't seem to realise that, humming in thought before smiling.

"I trust Haruhi! The newspaper club is always full of lies, you're right." That… was not what Kyoya had said at all, but he supposed it was typical of Tamaki to make his own conclusion that was vastly different from the one Kyoya wanted him to come to. Where was this distrust in the newspaper club when they were trying to expose the club?

When they walked through the corridors, and sat in every class, students wouldn't stop looking at Tamaki, they were gossiping, most believing the newspaper. Even when reaching the club room, the other hosts were nose deep in the article, the twins glanced up when Kyoya and Tamaki entered.

"Boss! You won't believe the nonsense the newspaper club came up with next!" They and Haruhi are reading from the same newspaper, looking extremely annoyed, even Renge is in the room, reading her own copy. Tamaki sighed, approaching the table the twins were sat at, having already read it but wanting to hear the twins perspective. "Just listen to some of the things these people say; 'as she has been known to seduce women beforehand, it isn't too much to assume she would have the manager under her thumb too', like what the fuck??" Hikaru laughs at the stupid lines, Kaoru less so, "but people are believing it…"

Haruhi sighed, "at least it's not as bad as yesterday… they're not attacking me directly." The hosts all looked to her in confusion, this was exactly what Kyoya had meant, she was a commoner, she cared not for image. She seemed confused by their confusion, "I mean, it's just a stupid rumour isn't it? Not like anyone with any sense would believe it." Oh and that got Tamaki hurt, the poor dear looked embarrassed but so very relieved.

"Didn't we threaten them about covering any of us in articles, Kyo-chan?" Honey-senpai spoke up, looking over at him, ah yes, Kyoya remembered that well.

"You threatened them??" Tamaki started, quickly being shushed as Kyoya raised his hand to his face.

"We asked him not to cover Tamaki or the club in general I suppose, the newspaper club hasn't actually broken any sort of agreement. I suppose they simply found a loophole." He shrugged, heading towards his table when Tamaki grabs his arm.

"Then make it part of the agreement." He spoke slowly, clearly, commandingly. Kyoya felt his face heat up as he looked into the burning purple eyes of the king, oh, oh yeah, this was why Kyoya was doing this. He nods quickly, adjusting his suit.

"I-" he coughs, trying to keep his composure, "of course Tamaki, my mistake, I'll get right to it." He hurried out of the club room as fast as he can, trying not to instantly melt.

In the hallway, he leant against the wall, fanning his face and mentally kicking himself for getting so unbelievably flustered, they were going to realise how in love he was! He's so stupid! Why does he get flustered easier when he's unstable?? It's the stupidest thing!! He huffs and slowly calms himself down, it's ok, it's all ok, nothing to worry about. He's just going to talk to Akira, then he's going to return and act like he fixed everything.

He strolls over to the newspaper club room slowly, leisurely, it wasn't like he needed to rush. It was quite a nice day, sunny, clear, he hoped it would be just as nice tomorrow, he and Tamaki would be outside that day, he didn't want it to be bad weather. However the idea of it raining, and possibly of them sharing an umbrella… Kyoya wasn't one for clichés, but that image made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. He wondered if Tamaki would think to bring one? Maybe he should bring one and simply lie, saying he forgot. Tamaki was too smart for that, he'd see straight through Kyoya, he always had to be careful how he lied in front of the king.

He reached the door of the newspaper club, knocking politely, he waited for an answer. One of Akira's little friends answered, looking first surprised, then scared to see Kyoya, the poor boy shaking in his boots. "We...we were told we had permission! You can't get mad at us!" Ah, be thought Kyoya was here to carry out the king's orders.

"I'm here to see Komatsuzawa, is he there?" He raises an eyebrow, peering inside the room. He appears for the most part, perfectly civil, and he knows this stupid lackey will let him past without second though, and he's quickly proven as the boy steps aside.

Akira is sitting at his desk, revelling in the boosted sales of his latest newspaper, just staring at his computer with great joy. He glances up when Kyoya walks in, panicking for a moment before bowing his head in respect and sitting up straight. "Ootori! What a surprise! Is there anything you need?" His eyes show fear, Kyoya can almost see the texts he'd sent pass before the man's eyes, no guilt, but fear for consequence.

"Tamaki isn't too pleased about your latest article." Kyoya speaks slowly, but with the tone of business, "the hosts believe you've voided the agreement made last year… I'm not as inclined to agree." He saw Akira breathe a sigh of relief at that last comment, rolling his eyes as he continued. "However," all three boys staring at him look once again nervous, "I've been ordered to make sure you know not to publish another article about Haruhi," he walks over, sitting on the edge of the desk, crossing his legs. "So I'm just going to have to figure out another loophole, any ideas?"

"Uhh… well, he didn't say anything about the other hosts?" Akira offered, clearly very on edge.

"That wouldn't help us at all, your job isn't to hurt the hosts, it's to drive Haruhi away from Tamaki." He sighs, "I suppose we could go after Renge… but that would be unnecessarily cruel…" He frowns, he can't really see any way to reasonably bypass the threat that had been made. Kyoya feels stuck in this method, he can't see any way to continue to use the newspaper to his advantage, Tamaki- damn that beautiful idiot, has backed him into a corner. He groans, getting up off of the desk. "It seems your use to me has expired…"

"What? What does that mean?" Akira seems to be still on edge, but Kyoya's words panic him. Kyoya turns to face him, staring down at the frightened man with cruel eyes.

"God, you're a dick Akira." He had to say it whilst he had this power. "But don't worry, you could still be used," he wanted to make it clear that he did not see the guy was an equal, but an object to be used, "you will remain on the council, but you won't be doing much, try and make yourself useful would you? I won't do all the heavy lifting." He scoffs, heading to the door.

He could almost sense the trio of idiots shaking in their boots behind him, so this was what an Ootori's influence truly meant, it was good, Kyoya felt powerful. He must really be growing into his name. "Oh," he pauses, hand on the door, peering back at Akira, "feel free to take liberties with any loopholes you do find, as long as they don't hurt my cause." With that, he left the room, leaving the newspaper club to interpret his words how they liked.

He felt he'd done well today, it was still only morning too. He headed back to the music room, a little more purpose in his step then before. He was thinking about the authority that his father commanded, the way his brothers could threaten someone's entire livelihood with just a glance… was that the power he was feeling in the newspaper room? Was that how he commanded the council so much better in person? It felt, so very very good. Maybe he'd go mad with power, that sounded like fun- he was going mad anyway, might as well make it worth his time. He sighed, brushing his hair into order with his fingers and adjusting his glasses.

When he returned to the club room, the session had already begun, Kyoya sighed, nodding towards Tamaki silently to communicate that his duty was done. He sat at his table, beginning to work on the finances, there's never anything he really needs to do, but if he has the numbers up on his screen, the hosts don't question him not wanting to talk to the guests. In reality he was just extremely gay and extremely not into talking to people in general, he just didn't enjoy small talk in the slightest.

10:45 - The article came out and a lot of people believed it. Tamaki made me go and threaten Akira again. The newspaper club is practically worthless now, but I will keep them around to threaten the others with. I'm sure he can write a few good exposés.

Kyoya could overhead gossip from here, it wasn't much, but it was all he needed. The guests were asking hosts if they knew if it was real, each and every one of them told the ladies the article was lies and slander. The most interesting thing to Kyoya however, was the fact that Haruhi kept staring into space, clearly in deep thought. She didn't seem upset though, so he wondered what that possibly could be about.

"Whatcha thinkin' about?" Unfortunately he was pulled out of his thoughts by Renge hopping up and sitting on his table, she'd cropped the dress shorter, and he could see a new pair of boots under it, a matching pink colour to her bow. He could appreciate the colour coordination, it brought away from that awful dress too- so that was good. He looked up at her, watching her expression closely.

"The club's budget, clearly." He spoke slowly, dragging out his words, he cared not for the annoyance that was the club manager. She didn't manage shit.

She frowns at him, crossing her arms. "Don't lie to me Kyoya, I have access to the club's statistics, remember? You haven't made a single edit since last night." Oh, she was smarter than she looked, Kyoya sighed, adjusting his glasses. "So what are you thinking about?"

"That newspaper article mostly," he was telling a half truth, wondering if he could make this a beneficial conversation, "any truth to it at all? I know you liked Haruhi."

Renge went slightly pink, Kyoya hadn't been expecting that. "Well, I mean- Haruhi is really cute and nice and sweet and… but she's happy with Tamaki, I'd never pursue a taken person." She pauses, looking slightly sad, before giggling. "I'm sure you know all about that, eh Kyoya?" It was Kyoya's turn to go pink, under his makeup at least. How had Renge seen through him like that?? She was an otaku and an idiot.

"Yes, well," Kyoya adjusted his blazer, refusing to meet Renge's eyes, "it seems the two of us have the same wish, it's a shame we have our morals in order." Regrettably Renge seemed to have the same moral compass as Haruhi, otherwise she would be a wonderful addition to the council. Arai might be a little more useless than previously anticipated.

She chuckles at that, "for once, you're the good guy!" She sighs, patting him on the head condescendingly, "I'm sure it'll be fine, you'll move on pretty fast, don't worry about it." She was so nice, but her words served only to cut Kyoya down, his morals weren't in order, he wasn't a good guy, it wasn't going to be fine… he could never move on.

It really didn't take long for the school to realise that the newspaper was lying, they were all set to believe Tamaki over Akira. Kyoya could understand that, Akira was a piece of shit. But Kyoya himself had spent the rest of the day just sat at his table, just watching the council argue in the group chat, he was slightly concerned at the number of swear words and slurs thrown around in front of poor Chika, but it wasn't like Honey would ever find out. After a while of watching them squabble, he decided to say what was on his mind.

Shadow king: You're fairly useless Arai.

Peasant: what?

Shadow king: Why don't you put yourself to use?

Tomorrow is a Saturday, I will be out for the day with Tamaki, meaning he will be busy.

Why don't you go and spend the day with Haruhi? Come on to her a little.

Then tell us how it goes.

But don't mention Tamaki at all, you don't know, remember?

Peasant: uhhh ok? Ig?

Woman: It sounds like you're finally making progress Ootori, is that a date?

Shadow king: Oh, well it's only a' business trip' for a future club theme… but there will be an attempt to make progress.

Woman: I see, well I wish you luck nonetheless. As someone who has slight experience with attempting to seduce South, I suggest subtly, he wasn't too keen when I came onto him.

Shadow king: Well you're certainly not his type, you're too… mature in nature, and way too feminine.

Child: doesn't he never shut up about that commoner wearing pretty dresses and stuff?

Shadow king: Yes, of course. But compare a nice light airy dress to what Eclair was wearing at the festival- she dresses like a wh*re.

Woman: You are so fucking rude, Ootori.

Shadow king: That may be so, but I'm not incorrect.

Sorcerer: Forgive me Ootori, but I don't think a member of the host club really has any grounds to call someone such things.

Kyoya just leant back at that, he'd gotten over the club being called stuff like that the first year it was founded. It was kind of stale at this point, besides, everyone could see how good of a club it was. Nekozawa respected them, he's just always been one for technicalities. He was sort of watching the last session of the day go down, he'd apparently zoned out completely during the one at lunch, and most of his lessons, he just hoped he'd done the work.

He was tired when he got home, even if he hadn't really done anything. Luckily none of his family were home, so he could relax in whatever room he wanted. He made the decision to sneak into his father's office, looking over the paperwork left there lazily, oh, he was having a business meeting with Mr Souh soon, that could come in handy. Nothing else on the desk interested him much, so he turned to the alcohol in the office, looking at the flask, the decanter, and the various bottles. He looked them over, he already had a flask he'd stolen, so he could just refill it. He pondered for a moment what he should have, deciding on a bit of that expensive looking vodka, he'd never had vodka before. Oh and father had so many bottles of it, surely he wouldn't notice if one went missing, he swiped it, tucking it into his bag before retreating to his room.

He sat on his sofa, drinking from the flask silently, he was definitely planning to go for a new makeup look, but he had no clue where to start. He looked on his phone, going through look after look after look, none of them seemed like anything that Tamaki would enjoy and anything Kyoya could pull off. It was beginning to dawn on him that he didn't know the first thing about makeup, he could only do one face. He was going to need help… and he hated having to ask for help. It made him feel inferior, hopeless, and overall just useless. He took a gulp of that vodka, the alcohol burnt the back of his throat unpleasantly but the slight buzz it gave him was more than worth it, he might be a slight lightweight but he was underage, so it was permissible.

A maid had come to fetch him, and he quickly hid the bottle and the flask under the sofa. She told him his father was expecting him in his office, and he felt a chill down his spine, buzzed or not, he understood that if father was mad at him, that wouldn't be good. So he stood, breathing deeply for a few moments in an attempt to clear his head, then headed to the office.

When he got there he realised both his older brothers were there as well, looking confused and slightly anxious, he gave them a curt nod, smiling softly. Akito frowns, putting a hand on Kyoya's shoulder. "Are you alright? You look flushed." It took Kyoya a moment to process his brother's words, ok, maybe he was a little more than buzzed…

He nodded, smiling up at Akito, "yeah, just… tired." Kyoya wondered if either of his brothers actually believed him, but Akito nodded nonetheless.

Their father stood with his back to them, a small whiskey glass in hand. He sighed and turned, taking his seat. "One of you knows why I've called you here, I'll give you a moment to decide if you're going to admit to it." He went silent, looking at the three boys with patient but clearly annoyed eyes.

The trio glanced at each other, the two older brothers didn't have any clue as to why their father was talking to them at this moment, Kyoya knew, but he was trying to pretend like he didn't have a clue- just looking up at his brothers with blank eyes.

Yoshio sighs, massaging his temples. "Alright boys, let me explain why you're here," he turns with his chair slightly, gesturing to the shelves of alcohol, "notice anything?" He doesn't even give them a chance to respond, putting his hands neatly on the desk and looking at them with a level gaze. "One of the bottles of vodka is missing, which one of you took it?"

The three brothers look at each other, Kyoya was doing his best not to meet their eyes, but it seems that was quite counter productive. "It's very clearly Kyoya, he's literally drunk." Akito spoke bluntly, gesturing to Kyoya who turned and glared at him, how could he tell??

"I am not." He speaks just as blunt as his brother, but in complete indignation, "you're the one that keeps going to parties."

Yoshio sighs, frowning, "Kyoya, you do look a little feverish, is there a reason for this?"

"I have had a very long day," the truth, Kyoya had indeed had a long ass day, "and I would like to go to bed," also the truth, he's absolutely exhausted. For affect he rubs his eyes, blinking lazily at his father. "Besides," he knows his role, and he knows he can still use it to his advantage, "I can't even drink yet Akito, I'm only seventeen…"

There it is, his innocence proven by simply playing into his age. Yoshio sighs, "as long as you make sure everything you have to do for school is finished you can go and take a nap if you want, Kyoya. Thank you." He waved his hand to dismiss his youngest, turning to Akito to berate him for starting on his 'baby brother'.

Kyoya smiled victoriously, heading out of the office and returning to his room. Pulling out his phone to text Fiyumi.

Sweet Bby bro 🥺: Fiyumi can I ask a favour?

Fiyumi: Of course you can! Xxx what do you need? Xx

Sweet Bby bro 🥺: I need mkeup help can you come over tomorrow morning?

Fiyumi: OF COURSE!!! I'd love to help you with your makeup! Xxx what's the special occasion Kyo? Xx

Sweet Bby bro 🥺: Nothing too special Im just having a day out tomrrow and thought I might as well go for a new look but Ive got no idea where to beginn

Fiyumi: 🥺💖! I'll be over first thing tomorrow! Don't worry, I've got you! Xxx

Kyoya sighs, taking another sip from the flask, typing was a lot harder when he was inebriated. Not to mention he knew exactly what Fiyumi had set him as in her contacts and that it just made his texts look even dumber. He layed back on the sofa, did he have anything he actually needed to do tonight..?

[phcking-detective]

crush.exe

Nines approaches Detective Chen in the breakroom, since she has known Gavin the longest, and therefore will have compiled the most data on the matter. She looks up when he takes a seat at the table, an oddity as he usually prefers to stand.

But this is a very serious matter.

"Is Gavin attractive when he smiles?" he asks.

Tina sucks in air through her teeth, steeples her fingers together, and then points the tips of her hands forward at him.

"No."

That assessment does not reflect the data Nines has collected.

"Why?" Tina asks, beginning to smile herself. "Do you think he's cute?"

"He tried to wink at me yesterday," Nines says instead of answering.

"Did he just shut both his eyes?"

"Yes."

"And do you find that incompetent or adorable?"

"It is incompetent," Nines says.

"Mm-hmm." Tina keeps looking at him with that barely suppressed smile. "Aaaaand?"

"… adorable."

[[MORE]]

"Oof." She reaches across the table and lightly touches his hand. "I diagnose you with a crush."

"Thank you, how do I uninstall it?" Nines asks.

Tina laughs. He watches her closely, in case his assessment of Detective Reed is in error. Deviancy has corrupted many of his previously-logical thought patterns, and perhaps his partner's perceived attractiveness is simply a newfound appretiation of human joy.

Tina is not [cute].

She is not [unattractive] either; she simply is. Nines does not care about her physical appearance one way or the other, even while laughing.

Damn.

Detective Reed himself enters the breakroom and makes his way over to their table.

"What're you ladies laughing about?" he asks.

Being categorized as part of [ladies] is not terrible. Better than [guys] or other male-gendered language, but still inaccurate. Nines is not aware of making any sort of facial expression or physical reaction to the word, but Gavin still somehow senses … something.

Social activity is still so strange and confusing.

"Lady and theyby," Gavin says.

Nines cocks his head as he considers the new term. "Theyby?"

"Yeah, like a non-binary baby."

"You could simply call me baby," Nines says.

Gavin's face turns red. For some reason, Tina also begins choking on her coffee.

"I—I'm dorito."

Nines frowns, receiving no results from an internet search on that term. "What does that mean?"

"I'm going to get doritos," Gavin says more clearly. "Goodbye forever."

The vending machine is only across the room, but the detective whirls around and marches for it like he is stoically being led to the gallows. Tina finally stops coughing and snorting.

"Oh my god," she whispers. "That was so smooth!"

"Doritos are not smooth," Nines says. "They are chips."

"No, you!" she whisper-hisses. "You can call me baby, oh my god."

"I like his voice when he says that word."

"That's super gay and I wish you both one hundred years of happiness."

Nines nods in acknowledgement, but his attention is focused on Gavin's cellphone connecting to the vending machine. There is an app that will take the payment directly out of the detective's bank account, but Nines convinces the app he's earned a free reward.

"Men like it when you feed them, correct?" he asks Tina.

"Oh yeah," she says. "Every time you give him food, his approval goes up by five points. Solving a case is ten, physically kicking his ass is twenty."

Gavin walks back in time to hear the end of that sentence. "You don't have to pay me twenty bucks to kick my ass. That's free, baby."

He winks at Nines with both eyes.

crush.exe [installed]

[whitecatindisguise]

Let Me Make You Proud 21

The Saporians’ are finally ready to attack Corona. And Corona... is less than prepared.

------

It was the middle of the night. The moon was high in the sky, its light shining down on the bare fields. Varian could see the wall dividing them from Corona from where he was seated inside the automaton. 

It was two days after his revelation about the true form of his power. No, not power. A curse. A curse that led to nothing else, but death. His hands curled on the handles controlling the machine, as he reminded himself of his decision. If it comes to the worst, he will find a way to use everything he got against the Saporians. 

It still hurt whenever he came back to his last conversation with Zhan Tiri. He really did betray Corona, didn’t he? The proof was all around him. Saporians armed with alchemical weapons of his design. Himself, inside the automaton built to help them fight.

Traitors pay with their lives… The Saporian motto echoed in his mind and he laughed sadly at how true it was. His fate was already decided, wasn’t it? Whatever the outcome, he will die tonight. Whether it will be by Saporian or Coronan hands, or because of his curse. 

His eyes moved up and he stared at the night sky. It was full moon tonight. According to what he learned, this was the time he was the most powerful. He… and Cass. 

He looked down and looked at the woman standing in the shadows. She appeared yesterday, brought by Zhan Tiri. She was going to aid them in the attack, she said, as they had a common goal. 

Varian still didn’t understand what happened to change her so much. She was the Princess’ Lady-in-waiting, her guard and best friend. How come she now had the powers Rapunzel was destined to claim, standing against the one she swore to protect. 

He tried to talk to her the day she arrived at the hideout. Tried to understand her. And, most of all, to warn her about the curse she claimed together with the Moonstone. But she didn’t listen. She didn’t even spare him a glance, walking away with Zhan Tiri, leaving him alone in the hallway. 

A movement somewhere to his left caught his attention. He saw a figure making its way towards where they were hiding, in the woods directly opposite the wall. The moon looked out from behind the clouds, and he noticed long black hair, braided and tied at the top of the head. 

Juniper approached Andrew with a pleasant grin on her face.

“Only ten guards, spread all over the wall.” She reported quietly, but Varian was close enough to understand what she was saying. Andrew hummed thoughtfully in response and grabbed his chin, eyes scanning the perimeter of the wall. 

“Which place is the least guarded?” He asked, his gaze staring into the distance. 

“Surprisingly, the part they rebuilt last year, after it was broken down by the rocks.” Juniper laughed and pointed at the specific point. Even from the distance, Varian could see the difference in wall colour, showing exactly which part was renovated. 

“Surprising, indeed.”  Andrew nodded as he scanned the particular spot. “I figured they would guard it better, since it doesn’t have the resistance the other parts have gained through the years. And, it’s the part that connects to the old road.”

“Exactly my thoughts.” Juniper agreed and laughed again. “Coronans are really stupid, aren’t they?”

“Makes our job easier.” The male simply stated and turned to Cassandra. She was sitting on a nearby rock, sharpening her sword with a piece of black rock. “Think you can make a door for us, Cassie?”

“You don’t get to call me that, Hubert.” She seethed and few of the men chuckled at the response. Andrew glared at them and they quickly silenced. 

“Whatever you say, Cassie.” He replied with a shrug. “Can you do it or not?”

“What I can or can’t do is not your concern.” Cass stood up and marched up closer, towering over the man. “But if you keep annoying me, I won’t hesitate to kill you. You need me, not the other way around.” 

“Fine, fine.” Andrew lifted his hands in the air but the smirk didn’t leave his face. “Just do your part.”

“With pleasure.” Now Cassandra smirked too and turned towards the wall. 

She closed her eyes and let out a deep exhale, before opening them again. She lifted one hand and black rocks sprouted from the ground. Slowly at first, they soon sped up, rushing towards the wall. Varian could pinpoint the exact moment the guards noticed them, as they froze at first and then started to scramble away. 

The rocks reached the wall but didn’t stop, climbing up the stone bricks. When the last rocks appeared on the top of the wall, Cassandra clenched her fist.

The stones exploded, chunks of the wall falling down to the ground with a loud thud. The smoke covered the area and Andrew gave the signal to move. By the time the smoke started to clear, they were already climbing up the debris. 

Varian could hear the guards shouting commands to step away. Probably the villagers heard the commotion and went out to see, what’s happening. The thought made his stomach drop, as he remembered where he was. The moment they see the alchemy bombs, or the automaton, they will know it’s him. And they didn’t really forgive him for his previous mistakes. He was only adding oil to the flame. 

~~~~~~

Rapunzel was grinning. She kept on pestering her dad for days, since Ruddiger came with the message. She didn’t feel at ease with sending only two additional guards to the border of the kingdom. So she asked and asked, dropped hints until the King decided to give her some men to go and check out the wall herself. 

She knew, it was only so she stop asking and he didn’t really believe the message was true, but it was more than enough. So this was how Rapunzel found herself sitting in front of Eugene on Maximus, following Captain and other guards towards Old Corona and the border. It was the middle of the night, but the Princess refused to wait until the morning, and her father reluctantly agreed to go now. 

She could already see the village in the distance. The sight made her stomach drop, as he remembered the big castle-like building by the wall. She visited Quirin the same day Ruddiger returned. She brought the raccoon with her and relayed whatever she managed to learn. 

She remembered the moment she jumped down from Max’s back, Quirin meeting her in the doorway. His eyes lit up when he saw the raccoon but dulled soon after, when he realized his son wasn’t with him. She felt tears threatening to fall, as the man kneeled down to pick up the animal and hugged it to his chest, praying for Varian’s safety. She didn’t stay long after, deciding to leave the two alone. 

And now she was back, entering the village with a group of guards, heading for the wall. She looked up and saw two guards, frantically scrambling away from a particular part of the stone. Captain noticed it too, and gave a sign to stop, his eyes staring into the wall. 

That’s when she heard it. A familiar sound, something she dreaded to hear again. It went up the wall and reached the top. Everything went silent for a few moments. And then the wall blew up. The stones and bricks exploded, falling down in large chunks. The smoke and dust reached them in no time, irritating her eyes and throat. 

“Everyone to the wall!” She heard Captain yelling and felt Max moving through the smoke. 

She heard aroused voices of the villagers, leaving their homes to check what happened. The guards tried to stop the crowd from approaching, shouting to stay away. The smoke slowly cleared out and she coughed to clear her throat. 

“Knock knock, Corona.” A too-familiar voice sounded in the night and her eyes flew to the damaged part of the wall. 

There, standing on the debris, stood Cass. Her blue hair moved gently in the wind and she smirked evilly at the gathered crowd. More figures climbed the debris and her stomach dropped as she noticed the Saporians. And then, as if it wasn’t enough already, something even bigger made its way up the broken wall. The mechanical head with red-coloured glass window appeared over the bricks, before the whole machine stood at the top, behind the Saporians.

Rapunzel’s stomach dropped even more, when she noticed a person sitting inside. There, staring right at her with wide blue eyes… was Varian. 

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

1 Night (Sriracha, Part 7.)

Description: A problematic college student gets the worst summer job of the ‘83 - Jim Hopper, the Chief of police in your hometown will have you as his secretary since his old lady Flo has two months lasting holiday. It was agreed so Hopper could let you far away from all the trouble.

Part Summary: Waking up next to Hopper means one only thing in your mind - a night you didn't remember and a lot of cringe coming your way.

A/N: No fluff or smut so far, sksksks. Also, inspired by 1 Night by Charli XCX and Mura Masa, because that song is just everything.

Word count: 2.7 K

Tagging: @nemodoren @missdictatorme  @creedslove​

Master list: H E R E

You had woken up at the sound of snoring directly in your ears. Your eyes flew open at that moment, you almost threw up. You smelled like... Oh shit, you puked again, didn't you? Well, great.

You were tucked in a blanket from your shoulders to your toes, your hip was hurting since you surely didn't turn on your other side the whole night, again. Well, your memories from yesterday were pretty blurry, but you remembered that you were eating Sriracha quesadillas with Hopper, yeah, and then... A blackout.

Your eyes shut again as you mumbled a cuss word. That meant that the man laying next to you was... And in that second Hopper snorted again. Oh Lord, did you know that sound from the many times he fell asleep in his office? You sat up and looked at the bucket - clearly, one of you was puking yesterday and you were sure that it was you. It was cleaned off from the worst, but there were still small remnants of the last night’s food. And then you tried to stand up and...

You cried out with pain and immediately fell back onto the bed. Jesus, your foot hurt like a living fuck. You cried and looked at Hopper, who just mumbled something out and turned to lay his belly.

Oh, holy shit, he was only in his briefs and a t-shirt, that's what you noticed when he showed you his ass and shoved a leg from under his blanket. He had pretty nice legs, that needed to be said. You huffed out one more cuss word and leaned forward to massage your temples. Jesus, your head was hurting.

You needed some painkillers, a glass of water and something to eat since you felt like someone gave you a punch directly to the stomach. Slowly, you got up, looking at yourself in the mirror of the wardrobe.

You looked terrible - black circles under your eyes making you look like a raccoon, your hair making a mess on your head, your skin definitely looked unhealthy. You needed a shower, as soon as possible. Well, since Hopper was out of order, so you could technically have a shower at his place. What eyes don't see that doesn't hurt the heart, right? Another thing you needed was at least a fresh t-shirt and a pair of socks. And you didn't plan to wake him up, so you opened up the first cabinet, looking at his mess for a t-shirt. Were you blind or did Hopper indeed had t-shirts, sweatshirts, jeans, and briefs thrown in one drawer? It sure looked like that.

But at least, the clothes weren't worn. They weren't smelly or dirty, but they sure as well wasn't fresh either. You searched through three drawers before you found at least one representable pair of socks and a grey t-shirt with orange stripes which was almost three times bigger than you were. You could also almost drag the sock all over your face, covering yourself with it.

Yet, these were desperate times and these were the only clothes you needed and could find. Then, you dragged yourself to the other side of Hopper's trail, almost letting two of the cabinets fall down while you support yourself with it. When you saw the living room, your eyes simply widened.

There were cans and bottles of beer everywhere, the ashtray was full off cigarette butts. The place was wrecked and you just hoped that you weren't to one who caused all of that chaos. You tried to imagine what you were doing last night - maybe you tried to have sex? Well, that was indeed a wild guess. But no, you weren't obviously naked since you got your jeans on - you wouldn't be able to take them off and then put them back on and Hopper wouldn't surely care enough to get you dressed. Did you at least kiss him? Did he kiss you? If you did kiss him, did Hopper kissed you back? It was particularly strange to imagine having... Anything with your boss.

You now knew how to survive all day in his presence, you learned it day by day, but it was a quite bizarre imagining having any romantic interaction with Jim. And the worst part was that you weren't disgusted when you imagined something happening in that very living room.

If anything, you were just disappointed that you couldn't recall anything. Which you would never expect to feel when someone would tell you that you slept with your boss. Really, did you kiss? Did he like it? Did your hand disappeared under his uniform? Did he took off your shoes and shirt and you just... Fell asleep?

There were too many scenarios of how could the whole thing went, so you tried to shake it off and hopped to the bathroom, closing the door behind you. You let the pants fall down along with panties, hanging your bra on the towel hanger, taking a fresh towel out of the drawer. There was a mess everywhere in his house as you could see while exploring the cabinet - there were soaps taken out of the packaging, many tissues which you were afraid to touch, too many used razor blades everywhere.

Without further ado, you let the hot water roam your body - you skillfully cleaned yourself, not leaving out a single spot, only the foot out of the shower. You almost fainted when the bathroom door opened up - you screamed and Hopper, as quickly he opened up the door, as quickly he closed it, letting himself three inches of space to talk to you.

Oh, he did look at you? He indeed did - but he only saw your butt and the small of your back with your messy, damp hair. He tried his best to turn away from you.

"Jesus, I'm sorry, Y/N!" - Jim called at you and you coughed, turning off the water with a swift motion, covering yourself in a tower.

"I... I suppose that you saw me naked anyway, am I right? Yesterday?" - You guessed and started to dry yourself with the towel before covering your hair in it. You abruptly tried to put your clothes on along with dressing up in the t-shirt and socks - bit there were really huge on your body. You looked cute, though.

"You mean..." - "If we fucked. Yeah. That's what I'm asking about." - You answered and tugged your shirt behind the belt, making the shirt somehow fashionable. No matter what you did, the sleeves reached your elbows and his socks simply reached up to knees. In other to be hygienic, you pushed the panties into your back pocket, finally leaving the bathroom.

Hopper was standing in front of the door and obviously thought hard about the answer. In the end, he just scratched his beard and with a growl, he walked back to take another beer from the fridge and some pills from the counter. You watched him with a clear disagreeing in your face.

"No." - Was the only answer he gave you before taking a swing from that bottle. - "You fell asleep in my car. You were dead by the time I dropped you here."

"Have I done something... Bad?" - You asked with a bad feeling in your stomach and you watched as Hopper cleaned up the table in front of you, putting the dirty dishes to the sink, smoking a Camel.

"No. Just threw up a lot, but that was kind of expected in your state." - Hopper mumbled back again, throwing a pack of Eggos on the table for you before giving you one small plate.

"Hopper, I'm sorry... Wait. Since when do I call you Hopper?" - You asked nervously when you caught yourself calling Chief by his name. You usually thought about him as about Hopper, yeah, but you never called him differently. And it came out of your mouth very fluently.

"You just decided that you want to call me Hopper, I let you. Let me check on your foot, come on, raise it up for me." - Hopper got on his knees and slowly put your ankle on his knee, smoking while he took the bandage of your foot. You tried to keep the foot dry, which was only a thing that he had to admire. You weren't dumb.

As his thumbs traveled around the healing cut, you hissed and caught his shoulder again - and this time, he felt your nails way more intensively than the night before. That was right, you were sober at that moment. And his body somehow leaned into that touch, without any of you realize.

"If you simply asked me, I could borrow you some better clothes because these definitely aren't yours." - Hopper mumbled taking another puff from the cigarette, waving with his sock in the air, giving you a furrowed look as he took care of the foot once again. You reddened a bit at that remark he made.

"Didn't want to wake you up and make things more awkward since I didn't remember anything that happened yesterday." - You mumbled back, still holding his shoulder tightly. Yesterday, you didn't have the time to even notice, but his shoulders were road and ripped. He wasn't exactly thin, no, but he had some nice shoulders.

Also, when he kneeled before you and you weren't afraid that he'll see you naked, you noticed how bad did he look - his hair and mustache were a mess, he clearly couldn't sleep well, his skin was a bit too transparent. He... He wasn't completely ugly. There was a spark about him that you didn't know about the whole time. He could be the rumored panties destroyer, indeed. But you didn't know why did you notice that. Your eyes just watched his face, beard, mustache, skin deepened from the times he was smiling. 

You saw him smile how many times? Once or twice? You could count these moments on the fingers of your left hand easily.

"It's way too awkward already. The leg's all good, but you shouldn't ride your bike for some time. You should ask your mom or brother to drive you to the station in the morning, alright?" - Hopper stood back on his feet and let you roll on the sock.

"I'll drive you home, or at least close to it and you'll need to walk there on your feet." - Hopper told you and lighted up another cigarette.

"By any chance, do you have whipped cream and Hershey's kisses?" - You asked when you looked at the frozen treat he had thrown you on the table. Hopper furrowed for a while before he opened up the fridge, giving you both sweets you've asked for.

But he didn't tell you anything, he just furrowed more and lighted up another cigarette, leaving the room you were currently occupying. You were touching the worst spots without even knowing.

You've already told him what was on your mind last night and to be fair, you were right. And he was accepting that. But to blaming you for bringing up Sara on his mind, that just wasn't fair to you. You were a good girl, you tried your best while you worked at the PD, you found the perfect balance between being a great addition to the team, but you still stayed true yourself.

And that was maybe the problem. You knew him like your dealt hand of cards and you were simply a great woman and a good person. That was a murderous combination in his opinion.

He didn't exactly like you, he didn't want to date you or whatever, but a few things on you were attracting him, if he needed to address his behavior that right away.

He was standing on the terrace long enough to not lose his cool once he walks back into the room, and when he was ready, he walked back to put some clothes on.

The rest of your stay in Hopper's household was awkwardly quiet for both of you. When he drove the roads, you were just looking out of the window, listening to Jim Croce. You were into the pop and disco that was modern, but you could enjoy Time in a Bottle or I’ve Got a Name since your grandpa was listening to a lot to this man back in his day. Hopper was actually impressed that you knew bits of Jim Croce’s music, he needed to say.

He dropped you off two streets away from your home just as he told you. Walking on your right foot was definitely hurting you, but you walked the way home proudly. The limping couldn't be unseen though. 

Jim knew that he desperately needs to focus on something - whether he’ll go to the bar to watch baseball of football or concentrates on a case, he needed to do something. He knew that if he wouldn't, this Sriracha night would occupy his mind. When you closed the door behind you, he finally turned his car to drive back into the wilderness and loneliness he was living him.

The thing you told him were burned into his brain - that you find older men mysterious. Did that translate to hot? Also, did you find him hot too in that case? But not just these animalistic things, no, there was also the bit about him acting tough because he was trying to hide a trauma. He was trying to find something that would help find a way back from the darkness of grief and depression

Oh, how could you be so right? Everything was just on point. You messed him up properly and you didn't remember any of it. Life wasn’t always fair and Jim had to finally acknowledge that. Also, a thought crossed his mind - you were in his office for a goddamn month already, and there was only a month remaining. It was a long time to sort everything out, maybe even to have a proper talk with you. Maybe he wished only someone who would listen to the thoughts going on a constant loop in his head.

Maybe he needed someone to talk to. In fact, you were about to be a diploma psychologist, so he could technically say that he's going on a therapy, right? But what if you weren't interested? What if he figured it all wrong? 

When he parked his car in front of the trail, he could still exactly feel where your hand touched him and it was an unpleasant feeling. So unpleasant, that he needed to take a shower to get it off. There were small bruises at the places where you dug your fingers, but there was anything Hopper could do about that. 

When he walked through the kitchen, he noticed a weird, lacy black thing laying on his chair - so he naturally bent to pick it up. When he realized that he's holding your panties right in front of his face, he just huffed out before taking a sip from the opened glass of beer, lighting up another cigarette.

He should throw the lacy thing into the lake behind his trail. Or into the trash bin. Or just straightaway burn it. Instead, he clenched it in his palm while puffing in and out. By the looks of it, you surely didn't leave the piece of clothing there on purpose since you were afraid to even wake him up. 

But it was something to take a hold on for Hopper - it symbolized a flag of something new incoming. Whether he wished to change things around or not, he needed to something with himself. Anything. If he wished to take a step further or not, that was a thing he didn't have a clue about. If you're going to be a part of the change, that was also unclear. But there was something about that damned piece of clothing. 

He saw it as a signal that there were maybe a few that cared about him and wished him to find his way out of the cave he was in. And that he needed to find something to talk to finally.

[fairstarlights]

​Crowns and Thorns

Chapter Summary: Things take a turn for the worst but someone is determined to make his dark strange friend feel better.

Chapter Warnings: General angst

Pairings: Prinxiety and Logicality

Word Count: 4,457

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

- Chapter 4 - 

“Wow.” Roman in amazement and horror said after Virgil unlocked the door and pushed the door open to the shop. Well, it wasn't a shop, it more like an office. A very messy office. Virgil crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame as Roman disappeared into the room looking at the huge mess.

“I knew I said I would help, and I will, but you only have till Friday? This guy must be the worst, but have no fear you're Prince is here!” Virgil smirked. He could hear Roman's boots clunking around the room for a while until they suddenly stopped. Virgil raised an eyebrow.

“Ro?”

“Virgil.” Roman sounded horrified. Virgil frowned and maneuvered his way to where he think he heard Roman's come from. Virgil found him and Roman was holding a paper in his hand, eyebrows furrowed. Virgil to his side and looked at the paper. Virgil's eye's widened. It was the original official document that declared magic to be illegal and if caught, was punishable by death. 

At the bottom was King Thomas' signature and Crown seal. Roman's hands were shaking. “What is this even doing in here?” Virgil looked nervously at Roman, whose face now looked furious. “We should burn this.” He hissed. Uh-oh.

“Breath, Roman.” Virgil said softly as he slowly tried to take the document out of his friend's shaking hands. Roman looked at Virgil like he just sprouted three extra heads.

“You're telling me to calm down? Do you know what we possess? If we get rid of this, thing's could change! People could be open and free to use magic again. Do you know how much that could help people? Some people could be living their dreams if they could only be using their abilities.”

“You really think that's a smart idea, Roman? Just to burn a document and then, what, go tell people it's okay to use magic again? What proof are you going to have? A pile of ashes?”

“No. I'll assemble a large group of people and have them witness it. Just imagine what good would come of it!” Virgil glared at Roman.

“What makes you think that's going to stop the King from just issuing another decree? Plus, how would you go about joining the Royal Guard then? I doubt King Thomas would want a personal body guard who is just going to burn is stuff.” This was all coming out so much harsher than Virgil was intending it but Roman couldn't just throw everything out the window over a document. 

Roman seemed to disagree. His body language was going into a defensive stance and his eyes weren't as warm. Neither one of them liked when they had these intense arguments. They always ended up saying harsh and hurtful words to each other that most likely never really goes away. With Virgil's fear and anxiety constantly running through him, whatever Roman says during these times were the worst. It was time to stop this before it got bad.

“You don't even want me in the Royal Guard in the first place, so what do you care?”

“I care a lot more than you realize.” Virgil said softly. Roman looked taken aback for a moment. Surely Roman was wondering why Virgil wasn't being harsh and firing back. Roman crossed his arms.

“If you really cared, you'd let me do this.”

“I do care, which is why I can't let you do it. It's my responsibility to look after and transport whatever is in this room whenever need be. If something gets damaged, I will have to take the blame.” Roman stared blankly for a second, looked down at the paper then back up to Virgil. He opened his mouth then closed it, as if asking himself if he really wanted to ask that question. Then finally,

“Are a messenger for King Thomas?” Virgil felt his heart both stop and quicken at the same time. Roman could be pretty dense sometimes but he knew how to put pieces together given time. Although, the way Roman phrased the question, he could get around it. He wasn't a messenger for the King directly.

“Well, no, not exactly. I get my instructions from others.” Virgil said smoothly, but inside he was cringing. Since when did he start lying? And to Roman of all people? Roman looked suspicious and really, not at all convinced. It wasn't that surprising considering that Roman knew Virgil like he one of his favorite and well memorized theatre performances. And well, Virgil did not have the skills to preform.

“Right. So, who will you get your instructions from then?”

“It could be from a couple people.” That wasn't too far from the truth. If anyone was going to be giving Virgil any instructions it was going to come from either Advisers Logan or Patton. They were a couple people. He really needs to stop.

“Why are you being so indirect and dodging my questions? Do you not trust me?” Roman asked, eyebrows raised and looked slightly hurt and frustrated. Virgil averted his eyes and scratched the side of his nose, then he shrugged indifferently.

“What does it matter? You're going to be gone soon anyway.” This voice was monotone and almost cold and it almost hurt to revert to being enemy like again. Virgil kept his eyes on a stack of papers but he could feel Roman's eyes on him.

Roman walked past him and whispered, “I'll find my own place to stay till I head back to the village tomorrow.” And out the door he went. Virgil gritted his teeth and swiped violently at the papers he had been staring at and they all scattered into a bigger mess on the floor. Well, guess he had to pick that up and sort that back out now. Something he would have to do with Roman later. But seriously, lying and dodging questions? What the heck was that?

-- Thursday --

Roman packed all his belongings into his bag and said his goodbyes to Alexander. It would be another week before he would be coming back. He looked at the ride that would be taking him back home and felt a pang in his chest. He came with Virgil and he would be leaving and going home without him. He would be going home and not be able to see or interact with his best friend. He stepped into the sheltered cart and sat down. 

Maybe, he was being selfish? Virgil found a real job and in a nice area. Was this what Virgil was referring to a while back? That weird conversation about moving away from the village, getting a good job and... Roman's eyes widened in his apparent epiphany, finding a wife? Did Virgil find romance while he accompanied him during their trip? Is that what Virgil was doing when he left Roman for hours while he trained? He was achieving his own dreams, and Roman, he was actually holding his friend back this whole time.

A small bitter sweet smile formed as he looked toward the general area where Virgil now lives and works. The early morning mist made it hard to make out things but he could see people walking around and doing whatever these people do in this town. Working hard to achieve their goals, probably. Roman smiled for real and rested his head against the side of the carts walls as he people watched. For now, his stay here was only temporary, but one day he would be in the castle by King Thomas' side and help be a protector of all.

Once all the people were loaded into the cart the driver announced they would be taking off. Roman sighed as the cart jerked and then moved forward. It wasn't a minute later when he heard something. He looked over and saw someone running. Everyone was looking at the figure sprinting towards the cart. As the person grew closer Roman reconsigned who it was, it was Virgil! Roman sat up and leaned forwards, Virgil was almost caught up, which was surprising because Virgil didn't run and the cart was going relatively fast. Once his friend was in ear shot Roman decided to speak up,

“What are you doing?” Virgil was clearly out of breath and in no position to talk but he managed to wheeze out a,

“Catch me.”

“What?” Then Virgil threw himself at the back of the cart and grabbed onto it. Roman gasped and pulled him up. “Are you an idiot?!”

“Apparently, I feel-” he coughed, “-like I just-” he took a sharp intake of breath, “-ran five miles under two minutes.” Virgil said as he continued to breath heavy. He sat up fast though and turned to Roman. “I don't have much time though, this cart is going fast and if I don't hurry this is going to leave the town and it's going to be a long walk back.” Roman frowned, he was confused.

“Hurry? For what?”

“I have to...” Virgil looked away, “...apologize for how I acted yesterday. I don't know what came over me.” Roman smiled sympathetically.

“No, it's okay, Virge. I understand. You're finally realizing what you want out of life. You've set goals and you're actively going after them. I couldn't be any prouder. Also, your lady friend must be quite special if you've been keeping her from me this whole time.” He beamed at his friend. Virgil looked beyond confused.

“What? Goals? Lady friend? I don't-” Roman held up a finger to silence him.

“I know you've been spending all this time out with your new lover.”

“I sure have, but they aren't new.” Virgil responded immediately. Roman blinked, taken aback.

“You've been with them this whole time?”

“Not officially. We've been kind of dancing around this for years.”

“From the town?”

“No the village.” Roman frowned.

“Do I know her?” Virgil rolled his eyes and leaned forward and whispered.

“It's not a her.”

“Uh- my apologies for assuming. I didn't know-”

“For a wanna-be Prince and a Knight in training, you aren't very sharp.” Virgil emphasized the last word. Roman winced. Virgil kept going, keeping his voice low and serious, but with a hint of nervousness, “You know I- uh-wow-” Virgil looked nervous.”- love you, right?”

Roman hesitated, “As a best friend?” It was met with silence. Roman sighed inwardly. Honestly, this was the best news he had ever been given. His feeling were reciprocated, but this couldn't happen. It wasn't allowed. Neither of them could afford to be found out. It wasn't a law or anything, it just wasn't socially accepted to be attracted to, let alone be with someone of the same gender.

He smiled sadly and pulled Virgil into a tight hug. Virgil tensed up. Roman whispered, “Go back to your home, you're going to be happier there, forget about m-” Virgil pushed Roman away hard, then he whispered lowly, looking around as if to make sure no one was listening in.

“I'm not the idiot you think I am. You think you can keep that hidden but you can't. I've seen you do it to other people and I've suspect you've done it to me before. I trust you, Ro. But, if you keep doing that, you won't be any better than those people you escaped with.” Roman paled, Virgil knew? “You may not think you're hurting anyone, but you are. You're whispering those thing and- I don't even know exactly what it is or how you're doing it, but it has to end. Now.” Roman was panicking, Virgil found out. He knew he was doing it to other people. He must think he's a monster. Roman froze. He has to change this, one last time.

Roman sighed and then grabbed Virgil and pulled him into a hug. Virgil tensed up at first then struggled to get away. Roman could feel the guilt rising up in his stomach but he pushed it down and whispered, “I love you too, Virge. I always have. But I can't have people knowing. At least you know why I don't hug you and I know why you don't try to hug me. I'm sorry, for this.”

“Roman. Don't-!”

“Forget about this conversation. Forget about this, about your apology, about your confession, go back to your home and go back to work. It'll all going to be okay. Shh, calm down.” It was gradual but eventually Virgil stopped struggling and went slack against Roman. The guilt and shame that Roman was feeling was overwhelming, near unbearable. But he believed it would be better this way. He better get Virgil back to town before he comes to.

Roman stopped the driver and carried Virgil back into town. It took about thirty minutes, maybe a little more and when Roman opened up the office slash Virgil new home, he saw the place was a total disaster zone. Well, it was already a disaster but now it looked like someone had ransacked the place. The piles of papers that were once stacked high on the tables were now gone and all over the floor, and some of the tables were turned over. Crap. Roman took his friend up the stairs and into his room and laid him down on the bed. He looked at his sleeping form for a moment and wondered if Virgil always looked this peaceful when he slept. Or. Maybe it was the fact that Roman told him to calm down. More guilt. Roman clenched his fists. No. No more of this. Not to Virgil. This really was going to end, right now. He climbed into the bed, laid down and put his arms around his friend. The friend he would die for. The friend he loved more than life itself.

“Virgil. This is the last time I will do this. This isn't a command but, if you ever find out what I did, or what I am, you don't have to forgive me or ever talk to me again if you don't want to. I won't ever do this to you again. This, what I do, won't affect you anymore. I give you my word.” Roman shuttered as he felt a strange sensation inside come over him and a physical one, particularly that was any part of him that was touching Virgil. It was like small electric shocks. Like as if it came out of Virgil himself. Roman remained still until the shocks coursed through him and then disappeared.

Roman let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding and let go of Virgil. He rolled onto his back and then looked over at his friend, and smiled. Hopefully, they would be okay again one day.

--

Virgil groaned as he blinked open his eyes. What the heck, why did he feel so funny? He felt... lighter somehow. What time was it? He sat up and looked out the window. It was dark. Oh. Time to go back to sleep. He laid back down then immediately sat back up.

“Dark?! How long did I sleep in?! What the actual heck?” He jumped out of bed and stumbled groggily out of the room. He stopped short at the stairs, pausing to gain his bearings before he accidentally threw himself down the stairs and potentially injured or kill himself. Okay, the last part didn't sound too particularly bad right now, but this was no time to be dwelling on dark troubling feelings right now. He had a office that he had to clean and organize by the morning. An office that he threw a hissy fit in and basically just made everything harder for himself. Logan, freaking Royal Adviser Logan was going to here at who-knows-when o'clock in the morning and expect a pristine clean and neatly filed office.

Virgil raced down the stairs, tripping a few times, and once at the bottom, he froze. “What the actual heck is going on in my life right now.” he whispered is disbelief. He rubbed his eyes, ya know, just in case he was hallucinating from the stress. When he opened them the room was still like it was.

Not a single paper was on the floor. No overturned tables. The papers were neatly stacked in small rows on the tables through the office. The quills, ink pens and ink bottles were all gone and assumed were in the wooden boxes that were stacked on one of the tables. Who had the time to do this? And why? He shrugged and walked over to a table, he had to file these away anyway so might as well get busy.

-- Friday Morning --

The door opened and closed and Virgil jolted awake, nearly falling over. He clutched the sides of the tall filing cabinet he was sitting on top of and watched someone unfamiliar walk in. He looked around with this big stupid grin on his face. Great. Now he was stuck sitting on this cabinet till this moron left. The door opened again and Logan walked in and stood beside the other man.

“Look, Lo! He sure did a diddly darn good job! This place was a mess!”

Logan adjusted his thick framed glasses, “What did I tell you about calling me that in public?” The other man pouted. Oh god, that was adorable.

“Yeaaah, but no ones in the room! Come on, call me something fun.”

“Absolutely not.” The man shimmied his shoulders and looked over the top of his own thin wired glasses.

“Or we could play Patton-cake.” Logan's eyes went wide for a second as the other man took a playful step forward. Or, at least Virgil hoped this was going to be playful. He didn't want to know where this was going. He reached into his pocket, took out his quill and chucked it cross the room. It bounced off the window and rolled on the floor. The two stopped whatever what was about to happen and looked over at the quill. Virgil took this time to discreetly and quietly make his way down the cabinet but his foot slipped and kicked against it. Virgil scowled, that was his luck. He turned his head around to see the Logan and his companion staring at him. He probably- no- he was definitely the biggest looking idiot in the room right now. He really wished Roman were here to give some sort of commentary and take eyes off of him while he climbed his way down. But, no, he was subject to the humiliation of having one of the most important people in the Kingdom watch him climb off of a cabinet for no apparent reason.

As he jumped down to the floor he stared at it for a moment before glancing up. They stood in complete silence for a few beats before Logan's companion grinned broadly and walked up to Virgil.

“You must be Virgil! Logan told me all about you! He said you looked like you needed sleep but I think you just look a little stressed. Can I make you some tea, kiddo?” Virgil blinked. Kiddo? This guy didn't look much older than Virgil himself. Without waiting for an answer the man walked behind the office counter and started making noise. Was there a kitchen back there?

“You did an excellent job cleaning up the place, Virgil. I am impressed. Although, I do have to ask, why were you on top of the cabinet.” Virgil looked back at the cabinet and scratched the side of his nose.

“I was, uh, sleeping.” He whispered the last word. The other man suddenly popped his head around the corner, causing Virgil to jump a bit.

“You were sleeping on top of the cabinet? Why?” He looked worried then looked at Logan with a stern face. “Did he not give you a bed?”

“His sleeping quarters were fully furnished, Patton. I would not have let him stay here without making sure he had somewhere to lay.” Oh. Patton. The other Royal Adviser. So he embarrassed himself in front of two important people. Great.

“You've made mistakes before...” Patton responded.

“Falsehood.”

“Falsehood?” Virgil raised his eyebrows.

“Yes, it means-”

“No, I know what it means. I meant, who even says that?” Patton giggled and in return received a glare from Logan. Patton kept his smile but looked elsewhere.

“You what else is falsehood? The falsehood falsehood Logan just said!” Both Logan and Virgil turned to look at Patton in confusion. “Okay, Logan, remember that one time when Thomas-”

“King Thomas.” Logan corrected, “There is someone else present.” Patton rolled his eyes.

“Do you remember the time when King Thomas was coordinated and you forgot his ring, or that other time when we-?” Patton trailed off. Logan's face turned red as if he was reliving the memory. Virgil smirked.

“Okay, maybe there where quite a few times but I haven't-”

“-or would you say it was...infinitesimal?” Logan groaned and thew up a hand.

“I misuse a word ONE TIME and you don't let it go. You don't see me getting onto you about thing's like that.” Virgil covered his forming smile with his hand as he watched the two continue to banter back and forth like five year old's. Virgil's mind immediately wondered to Roman and their fight yesterday, his smile faded and his hand slowly fell to his side. He didn't notice or hear when the two stopped bantering and focused on him. He was too deep in his mind, contemplating what he could have done differently. He was pushed out of his thoughts as Patton slung an arm around his neck, making him hunch over a bit. He scowled and looked over at Patton.

“Hey, want to hear a joke about a piece of paper?”

“Uh-”

“Never mind...it's tearable!” Logan pulled off his glasses and rubbed between his eyes and Virgil... he rolled eyes.

“Wow.” Virgil deadpanned.

“You better get used to that, he loves-”

“Dad jokes!” Patton said excitedly. Oh my god, this guy was too pure. He was going to get infected.

“You're not even old enough to be a dad.”

“The way things are going, I don't think I'm going to be having any actual children.” Virgil looked at Logan who shook his head at Virgil as if Patton just straight out said they were together and he was denying it. These guys did not know how to be discreet. It was sickeningly sweet and he was going to get major cavities. Logan walked over to Virgil and handed him a envelope.

“We just stopped by to drop this off. It's a list of everything we will need delivered tomorrow.”

“Logan.” Patton drawled out in a fatherly type voice as he brought out the tea kettle and some cups. “Tomorrow is Saturday! Virgil doesn't work Saturday's.” He set the kettle down on the table and poured them all a cup. He turned to them and handed them one. Virgil looked down at his, he didn't actually like tea. He looked back up at Patton who was looking at him with something that looked like barely contained excitement. Virgil lifted the cup to his lips and took a sip.

It was actually pretty good. It didn't taste like anything they grew up having in the village. Patton was looking at him with expectantly and Virgil shifted his eyes and mumbled, “It's okay.”

“You sure bet it is! I don't know why you didn't make some sooner. It's the finest tea we grow in this Kingdom, not many can afford to buy it, but Lo and I figured we could give you a package of it for you and your brother!”

“My brother?” Patton nodded.

“Yeah, didn't you tell Logan your brother would be staying with you? Where is he anyway?” Patton asked and looked around quizzically. Virgil shrugged.

“He left. We kind of had a fight, so he went back home.” Logan and Patton exchanged glances then looked back at Virgil, who was staring vacantly at his tea before taking sips intermittently. Virgil had a couple day's to endlessly worry and fret over his fight with Roman.

“Well, I mean...” Patton started, “He might come back and try to make things right! Your brothers, you guys will be okay in the end.” Patton said with a big grin.

“But will we? Does it even matter?” Virgil said before he could stop himself. “He lives pretty far, and the fight was pretty bad. It might not ever matter. He's about to do something idiotic and I probably won't actually ever be able to see or talk to him alone again.” There was a deafening silence in the room that Virgil didn't notice because he was too wrapped up in his bleak thoughts.

--

This wasn't going the way he planned. At all. Patton thought, frowning, as chewed on his bottom lip in thought for a moment before tugging on Logan's sleeve. Logan looked at his with a raised eyebrow.

“I have a plan to cheer up our new friend!” Patton whispered excitedly.

“How?” Logan asked.

“Find out what make him happy!”

“Patton, he's grieving. You can't just-”

“Oh, of course I can.” Patton waved his hand dismissively and Patton felt a dull ache in his chest, “I do it with Thomas all the time.”

“That's not always the best. Plus, speaking of Thomas, we have to get back to attending to him soon."

“Logan, I know you mean well and you try to think everything out rationally and all, but you don't know everything." Patton said with a little more attitude than intended and it earned him a concerned look. Patton smiled and shrugged, "Thomas will be fine without us for a while, right? Plus, someone else really needs a little cheering up right now. Come on, let's help out our new friend.” Logan eyed Virgil for a moment then sighed and crossed his arms.

“Fine, but only for a few hours. Thomas still needs us today. Especially later this evening.” But the words fell on deaf ears. Patton wasn't paying attention. His heart was a flutter and there was a burning desire to make his poor sad child happy.

---- Story Tag List ----

@laytonsartblog, @ambrechandra

Thank you!

[noona-clock]

Mistletoe Manor - Part 10, Final Chapter

Genre: 1900′s AU/Romance

Pairings: Park Seo Joon, Bang Yongguk, Brian Kang, Jung Daehyung, Jung Jaehyun, Lee Taeyong x OCs

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 | Words: 4,408

A/N: Chelle ( @prettywordsyouleft​​ ) and I wanted to create a magical Christmas for everyone and what better way to do that than at Mistletoe Manor! Because of the nature of having several idols, we chose to work with OCs and we hope you love them as much as we do.

Mistletoe Manor will be posted daily at 10am NZST / 4pm EST daily.

“Lydia!” Evie hissed as the maid passed her room, her head sticking out into the hallway in quite the unladylike fashion. 

Lydia paused, her head jerking back slightly in surprise, and she turned on her heel to face the middle Hawthorne sister. “Yes, My Lady?” she answered back in a whisper.

Evie simply motioned the maid inside her bedroom, opening the door a bit wider to allow her to come through.

“What is it, Lady Evie?” Lydia asked quietly once both of them were behind a closed door.

“Will you...” Evie began, her brow furrowing nervously. “...Do my hair? For the ball tonight?”

A smile immediately spread across Lydia’s lips, and even though she would be adding in doing Evie’s hair to her list of other things to do tonight, she nodded. “Of course, I will.” Because Lydia was quite sure Evie was only asking her because she wanted to look especially lovely tonight. 

For a certain gentleman.

Evie let out a soft sigh of relief and then headed toward her vanity, sitting down in the chair and waiting patiently for Lydia to get situated.

“I’ve got just the idea, Miss,” Lydia grinned as she reached for Evie’s hairbrush. “Trust me. It will look gorgeous.”

“I trust you with my life, Lydia” Evie replied with a sly smirk. “I most certainly trust you with my hair.”

Lydia chuckled gently, shaking her head a little as she began to smooth Evie’s hair back into a chignon.

About twenty minutes later, Lydia placed the final pin into Evie’s coiffure and took a step back.

“Just one more thing, Miss,” she said before opening a drawer in Evie’s vanity and pulling out a pearl-encrusted clip. “This is the perfect finishing touch, and it will go lovely with your green gown.”

Lydia carefully placed the clip just above Evie’s ear, holding her breath and trying to keep as still as possible.

“Oh, Lydia,” Evie breathed as she gazed into her mirror, eyes a bit wide. “It looks beautiful.”

“Lord Yongguk won’t know what hit him,” Lydia said with a soft giggle.

Evie’s cheeks pinkened, of course, but the corners of her mouth lifted into a delighted grin.

“Thank you,” Evie gushed, turning around and reaching for Lydia’s hands, grasping them in-between her own. “I owe you.”

“Of course, you don’t, My Lady,” Lydia chuckled. “I’m happy to help, especially if it means you’re one step closer to finding love.”

Evie’s eyes darted away bashfully, but then she took a breath and forced her gaze back to Lydia. “Well... I would still like to do something for you.”

“Whatever do you mean?” Lydia asked with a confused smirk.

“I... would like you to...” But instead of finishing her sentence, Evie rose from her chair and hurried over to her wardrobe. She opened the door and reached inside, taking out a simple but beautiful blue dress. “I would like you to wear this. I think we’re about the same size, and... something tells me... tonight will be special.”

The look on Evie’s face, though, made it clear she didn’t just think tonight would be special but she knew. As if someone had actually told her.

“My Lady,” Lydia murmured, aghast. She walked over to the wardrobe, reaching out and grasping one side of the dress in-between two fingers. “Oh, I couldn’t. This is much too fine for a maid to wear.”

“You could, and you will,” Evie insisted. “I’ll help you get changed.”

“But --”

“You know how stubborn the Hawthorne sisters can be,” Evie interrupted. “I am not taking ‘No’ for an answer.”

Lydia tried her best to act exasperated with Evie’s insistence, but she was secretly (or maybe not-so-secretly) delighted. It would most certainly be the most beautiful dress she’d ever worn, and she had a strange feeling it would be a special night.

Maybe not for her, but certainly for Evie.

...But also maybe for her, too.

All around the manor, nobility and servants alike were preparing for the Mistletoe Ball. All the decorations and food were ready, the orchestra was warming up in the entryway, and the first guests would be arriving any minute now.

Upstairs, Evie finished buttoning up the back of Lydia’s dress, holding back a squeal at how beautiful she looked.

Daehyun snuck into the bedroom he shared with Cassie, admitting to wanting a peek before the ball began. The couple shared a warm kiss (or five) and whispered loving compliments to each other.

Joey examined herself for the sixtieth time in the full-length mirror in her room, smoothing down the skirts of her gold dress and wishing she could smooth the rapid beat of her heart.

Grace forced out another cough, assuring her aunt that her illness was nothing serious. Just a head cold. All she needed was rest, and she would be fine tomorrow. And she tried not to think about Jaehyun waiting for her out in the garden, hopefully not freezing his fingers off.

Brian slid Yongguk’s jacket onto his shoulder, brushing off any stray hair or piece of lint. He ignored the nervous breath his employer let out because he knew by now Yongguk would rather not talk about whatever anxieties were on his mind. And also he didn’t have time for any sort of pep talk now because he had to go downstairs and get ready himself.

Speaking of downstairs...

Seo Joon furrowed his brow as he tugged at the cuffs of his jacket. It was probably time to replace the only nice suit he owned that wasn’t his uniform, but it was too late to worry about that now. He had plenty of other things on his mind.

Anna let out a squeal before clapping her hand over her mouth, not wanting to draw attention to herself. Taeyong, like Daehyun upstairs, had snuck into her room to see her, and he’d greeted her by tiptoeing silently up behind her and grabbing her suddenly around the waist.

And then the footman standing by the front door opened it, greeting the first guests to arrive and effectively starting the evening.

Even though Yongguk and Evie hadn’t verbally agreed to meet in the library half an hour into the evening, he still knew that’s where he would find her. Over the past few weeks, it had become their special place. They had spent hours together in the library, and... Well, it was where he’d fallen in love with her.

Truthfully, Yongguk had never been in love before in his life. He wasn’t exactly certain what love was supposed to feel like, but... if what he felt for Evie wasn’t love, then he had no earthly idea what would be.

Every spare moment, he found himself thinking of her. Or wishing he was with her. Or coming up with an excuse to find her and spend time with her.

He dreamed of her, both at night and during the day. He imagined his future, and every single time, the only person he imagined sharing it with was her.

When he had approached Daehyun just yesterday and confessed all of this to him, hoping to get some advice, his friend had surprised him by letting out a victorious ‘whoop.’

“More than half the reason I brought you here was because I knew you would like her,” Daehyun had admitted, clapping Yongguk on the back. “I just adore when I end up being right.”

But then Daehyun had given him actually helpful advice and had told him to just... go for it. Tell her how he felt. Put his heart on his sleeve.

Yongguk had never been great about doing that, but he was positive Evie returned his romantic feelings. If she wasn’t quite in love with him yet, maybe she would be in the near future.

But Daehyun was right. He would never know unless he told her.

So, he was going to tell her.

Tonight.

Right now, actually, because -- as he’d suspected -- she was in the library already.

The creak of the door closing alerted Evie to his presence, and she jumped slightly, almost dropping the book in her hands.

“Oh,” she breathed, though a smile came to her lips when she realized who the intruder was. “I was wondering if you’d find me here.”

Yongguk tamped down a smirk as he slowly made his way over to her. “We said we’d be wallflowers together,” he reminded her with raised eyebrows. “We can’t do that if we’re not together.”

“You are absolutely right,” Evie replied, giggling softly.

“And you,” Yongguk said quietly. He was now close enough to truly take in her appearance, and his breath caught in his throat as he attempted to continue speaking. “Are… exquisite.”

Evie’s cheeks pinkened, and her smile turned bashful. “Lydia did my hair. She said this clip --” She lifted one hand to point to the pearl hair clip above her ear. “-- was the perfect finishing touch.”

Since he was now standing directly in front of her, as close as he could get without just taking her in his arms, he lifted his hand to touch the clip. Though, really, he would have taken any excuse to touch her.

“It does look beautiful,” he murmured. “But... you don’t need a perfect finishing touch to make you look beautiful.”

Evie blushed even more, her cheeks now a very deep pink as she tried to hold back a grin. “My Lord, if you keep saying things like that to me, I fear my heart may beat right out of my chest,” she said with a soft chuckle.

Yongguk shifted his gaze from her hair clip to her eyes -- her soft yet sparkling eyes -- and took a deep breath. “Evie... As long as your heart is mine, I don’t care what it does.”

Evie’s grin fell, her eyes widening as she returned his gaze.

“Surely you must know already: my heart is yours. I think it’s been yours since we met, and it...” Yongguk took a nervous breath, hoping he could say this without sounding too forward or too sickly sweet. “It shall be yours for as long as I live.”

Evie’s eyes now filled with tears, and even though Yongguk assumed they were happy tears, he still lifted one hand and gently cradled her cheek. He trailed his thumb delicately underneath her eye, and he found he couldn’t stop his lips from pulling into the tiniest grin.

“Do you really mean that?” Evie replied in a choked whisper.

“I do. I know we’ve only known each other for a few weeks, but I never imagined I could feel this way about someone before, and I --”

But she cut him off with a kiss.

Yongguk hummed in surprise, but it only took him a few seconds to gather his bearings and kiss her back. He slid his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to his chest and feeling as if the world was turning upside-down because she felt so good against him.

Evie kissed him desperately, her lips obviously inexperienced but also hungry. And when she pulled away, she only did so enough to speak. “I’ve felt the same way,” she whispered, her breath fanning over his lips as she talked. “It’s been so strange because I didn’t understand, but now --”

“I love you,” Yongguk told her, and he tightened his hold on her.

“I love you, too,” Evie replied with the most delighted tone. She sounded happier than any human had any right to be, and Yongguk knew he would never forget this moment for the rest of his life. And then she repeated herself, her smile brighter than any Yongguk had ever seen. “I love you, too.”

Yongguk leaned in to capture her lips in another kiss, and he knew -- deep in his soul, he knew he would never kiss anyone else ever again. And that knowledge made him the most content man to ever walk the Earth.

“I hardly even recognized you,” Joey stated as she arrived on the dance floor with Brian. “You actually don’t look half-bad.”

It took everything in her not to blurt out that he was probably the most handsome man she’d ever seen in her entire life. He was wearing a dark green, well-fitted suit, and he’d slicked his hair back from his forehead. Apparently, that was all it took to make Joey’s heart leap into a frenzy.

“You look...” Brian began, his eyes shifting down to her gold dress. “All right, I guess.”

“What a compliment,” Joey replied as she pursed her lips.

“You’re welcome.”

Brian then slid his arm around her waist, taking her hand in his and pulling her close to him -- maybe a bit too close, but surely no one would notice. And when he began to lead her into a sway in time with the music, her heart began to beat even faster -- maybe a bit too fast, but surely no one would notice.

“So, are you happy now?” Brian asked quietly, just a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Why should I be happy?” 

“Because you told me I’d better dance with you at the Mistletoe Ball, and now here I am. Dancing with you at the Mistletoe Ball.”

“Yes, but I also said I would dislike dancing with you, and that’s why you should do it. Because you adore doing things I dislike,” Joey pointed out.

Brian let his smirk take over his lips just a little more, and his gaze was rather intense as he looked down at her. “But do you dislike it?”

The tone of his voice -- the gentle teasing, the subtle flirtation -- was enough to make Joey’s breath catch in her throat. “...What would you do if I didn’t?”

Because she certainly did not dislike being so close to him. She did not dislike the feeling of being in his arms.

“It may surprise you to hear I also adore doing things you don’t dislike.”

“You’re right, this is surprising.”

Brian chuckled softly, and Joey couldn’t keep herself from smiling at the sound of his laugh.

“You know...” Brian murmured, almost whispering. “You -- you’re beautiful when you smile.”

“You flatter me,” Joey replied instinctively, trying to tamp down her grin.

“I’m not in the habit of flattering anyone,” he stated. “Especially not you.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“I only mean -- I like to just be honest.”

Joey lifted her eyebrows slightly, and when she heard the orchestra winding down, finishing up the song, she suddenly felt an urge to take action.

“Can I be honest?” she asked quietly.

Brian simply nodded, his gaze somewhat intense and causing palpitations in Joey’s heart.

She opened her mouth to speak... but the music stopped, and all the couples around them ceased their dancing to applaud politely. So, Joey took Brian’s hand and led him to a small room nearby. Her gaze shifted around to make sure no one noticed, and once she had herded him inside, she closed the door.

Since no one had previously occupied the room, there were no lights on. The almost complete darkness settled around them, and it took a few moments of blinking for Joey to be able to see Brian’s outline.

But she could feel him. She felt his presence and the intensity of his gaze. And she felt his hands gently grasping at her arms.

“Honestly,” she whispered, stepping as close to him as she dared. “I never thought I would meet someone who could put up with my personality. Who would challenge me and -- and accept me and --”

She had been about to say ‘love me,’ but she wouldn’t go there. Not just yet.

“You drive me absolutely insane,” she continued. “But in the best way possible. And I think, after all this time of thinking I would never find my match -- I think... I have. In you.”

Brian didn’t say anything for a few moments... several moments... more than several moments, and Joey was about to excuse herself out of embarrassment.

But then she suddenly heard Brian move, and before she knew it, his lips had crashed down on hers, kissing her more intensely than she’d ever imagined.

Her heart leaped up into her throat, her stomach flipped over and then dropped down to her feet, her breath got caught inside her lungs... but despite her body’s physical reaction to the kiss, Joey accepted his lips. She cradled them and pulled at them and moved her hands to the sides of his face and tangled her fingers in his hair and let out a soft moan when she felt his arms around her waist, pulling her closer.

And then Brian suddenly pulled away.

Joey whined instinctively, reaching to kiss him again, but Brian spoke before she had the chance.

“I’m just a valet,” he breathed. “And you’re --”

“If you think I care about that, I’m walking out of here this instant,” Joey interrupted before she pulled him down into another kiss.

As his lips melted her insides, as -- eventually -- his tongue slipped into her mouth and explored, the beginnings of an idea unfolded in Joey’s mind.

A certifiably bonkers idea, but...

When Joey could no longer breathe, when her lungs were burning from kissing Brian for so long, she broke away.

“Take me away,” she panted.

“What do you --”

“I want to be with you, but I don’t know if it would even be possible if we stayed here,” she explained. “Do you want to be with me?”

“More than anything,” Brian whispered, tilting his head to press his forehead to hers.

“Then let’s go. Let’s go somewhere no one will judge us or try to keep us apart. Somewhere we can drive each other crazy and no one will know who we are.”

Brian chuckled softly, leaning in and capturing her lips in a quick, tender kiss.

“You want to run away together?” he smirked.

“Yes. I want to run away together.”

She knew it was crazy, but... truthfully, only her head knew it was crazy. 

Her heart knew it was right.

Seo Joon had tried so many times to approach Lydia, but every single time he had taken a step toward her, someone else had beat him to it.

He’d never known Lydia was so popular until tonight.

Of course, she was, though. She was...

Well. She was the most amazing person he knew. Kind and gentle and loyal and caring and beautiful and --

And if he didn’t go through with his plan now, he felt like he would burst.

She was currently speaking with one of the housemaids, and Seo Joon felt rude for interrupting... but he had no choice. Not anymore.

“Excuse me,” he murmured when he approached the two ladies. “I... I was wondering if I might ask Lydia to dance?”

The housemaid tamped down a smirk and took a few steps back.

“Of course,” Lydia answered, her cheeks pinkening as she reached up to slide her hand into his.

Seo Joon led her onto the dance floor, pulling her into his embrace and trying not to blurt out what he needed to tell her. She just looked particularly beautiful tonight, and he had been holding his feelings in for so many years...

But another few minutes wouldn’t kill him. Probably.

“You look lovely,” he said as they began to step around the room in time with the music. “Is that a new dress?”

“Oh -- it’s Lady Evie’s,” Lydia explained with a blushing grin. “She lent it to me.”

“It...” Seo Joon gulped down his nerves. “It looks like it was made for you. I’ve never seen that color blue complement a person so well.”

“Seo Joon,” Lydia chuckled, her cheeks getting pinker. “Well, thank you. I appreciate your kind words.”

Seo Joon simply smiled down at her before silently leading her in the dance for a minute or two. His brain was working a mile a minute at the moment, and he knew if he said anything right now, it would all come out in a jumbled mess.

He’d had feelings for Lydia for so long now; if he didn’t sort through all of his thoughts and emotions, he knew he wouldn’t be able to properly convey to her just how...

Just how much he...

Well, now that he was thinking about it, there was really only one thing to say.

“Lydia, there’s something I need to --”

Before he had the chance to finish his sentence, Lady Evie hurried up to Lydia with an expression of stricken panic.

“Lydia,” she hissed. “Lydia, you must come quickly. I cannot find Joey, and Yongguk cannot find Brian, and we think --”

“Oh, dear,” Lydia said with a whimper as she began to turn away from Seo Joon. “I am so sorry, Seo Joon, please excuse --”

“No,” he interrupted, his tone more sharp than he’d intended. “I have to --”

“Will you help us look for them?” she pleaded as if she hadn’t even heard him.

“Lydia, wait. I need to tell you --”

“Please,” she said, grasping his arm and trying to pull him off the dance floor.

He felt the words coming up his throat, and he knew there was no way he could stop them. He hadn’t wanted to tell her like this -- rushed and in front of so many people -- but he had to. He couldn’t wait even a second longer.

“Lydia, I love you.”

Lydia paused. Lady Evie paused. Even Lord Yongguk paused.

“I love you, and I’m sorry for telling you like this, and I’m sorry for not telling you years ago. Please -- accept my humble apologies for going about this all the wrong way, I just --”

To his -- and probably everyone’s -- surprise, Lydia stepped up to him, rose up on her toes, and pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

“I love you, too,” she replied earnestly. “So very much. You don’t ever have to apologize to me, but will you please help us find Lady Josephine and Brian?”

Seo Joon searched her eyes, his brow furrowed deeply. But before he could agree, Lydia spoke again.

“I promise we will talk more later. But right now --”

He nodded and swiftly took Lydia’s hand, striding off the dance floor and toward the closest room where two people might hide.

Even though Lydia stayed close by his side for the next twenty minutes, Seo Joon was able to focus on the task at hand. He wanted to lock her in a room with him and kiss her like he’d always wanted to... but he knew there was plenty of time for that later.

After searching every single room on the first and second floors of the manor, there was still no trace of either Joey or Brian. Seo Joon and Lydia were headed to the entryway to meet back up with Lady Evie and Lord Yongguk when, all of a sudden, he heard two voices.

The door leading to the downstairs staircase burst open as did the front door to the manor. Anna (and Taeyong) came through one, Grace (and Jaehyun) the other.

“Lady Evie!” Anna cried breathlessly, holding a piece of paper tightly to her chest.

“Evie! Cassie!” Grace called out at the same time.

“What?” Lydia answered, hurrying down the stairs to meet up with the two of them. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“A note,” Anna answered immediately. “From Lady Josephine. She’s --”

“I saw them,” Grace interrupted. “I didn’t know who it was at first, but it was definitely Joey.”

Evie and Yongguk appeared in the entryway then, and Cassie and Daehyun followed behind them.

“What on earth is going on?” Cassie asked, her brow deeply furrowed.

Lydia jumped a little, her heart pounding in her chest. She didn’t want to, but she knew she should be the one to break the news to her mistress. “We believe... Lady Josephine... has... run off. With... Brian.”

Before Cassie had the chance to gasp or cry out or yell, Yongguk stepped in front of her and took her hands.

“I will find them. And, if it helps, I know my valet. He would never do anything to hurt your sister.”

“It’s not him I’m worried about,” Cassie told him with a shake of her head. “I don’t know what she’ll do!”

“I’ll go with you,” Daehyun volunteered.

“I’ll drive,” Seo Joon nodded. “Come, we needn’t waste any more time.”

“Please be careful,” Cassie implored, gripping Daehyun’s arms before he had the chance to leave. “I’ve only just got you back.”

“I will return,” Daehyun assured her with a grin. “I promise you.”

He leaned in to kiss her, whispering his love against her lips and then kissing her again.

Yongguk turned to Evie, reaching up and delicately cradling her face in his palms. “We will find them. And as soon as we get back, I’m asking you to marry me, all right?”

Despite the frightening situation, a smile curved Evie’s lips, and she couldn’t stop herself from standing on her toes and kissing Yongguk -- her future husband.

“All right,” she whispered. “Please hurry.”

“Seo Joon,” Lydia called out, hurrying after him and grasping the sleeve of his jacket. “Shall I come with you? I don’t want Lady Josephine to be frightened --”

And she then realized how utterly silly that sounded.

Lady Josephine? Frightened?

Seo Joon, who had turned to face her, looked down at her with a lopsided grin. “I don’t think that’s possible,” he chuckled. “Besides, I think Lady Cassandra needs you here.”

Lydia simply nodded, but she tightened her grip on his jacket before she said, “And... we’ll talk when you return.”

Seo Joon’s gaze softened, and he lifted one hand, pressing it gently against her cheek. “Yes,” he whispered. “When I return.”

And as Cassie, Evie, and Lydia stood in the entryway watching Daehyun, Yongguk, and Seo Joon rushing through the front door out to the garage, they all held their breath.

Evie linked her arm through Cassie’s, holding her older sister close to her side and resting her chin on her shoulder.

Lydia slid her arm across Cassie’s back, her fingers brushing against Evie’s shoulder. Anna and Grace joined them, providing their own comfort and assuring the two ladies of the house that everything would be all right.

Cassie wasn’t sure if everything would be all right. She had no way of knowing what would happen when -- or if -- they ever found Joey and Brian. Nor did Evie.

But what they did know was there had never been a Christmas quite like this at Mistletoe Manor. It was certainly one nobody would ever forget.

The End

[sheilarice1]

Silver Death - Part 8

Disappearing act:

How did they not realize that I knew about Captain's crush? It was rather obvious.

The quick glances from the corner of his eye. The hurt expression when I only gave Winter a hug. The look he gave me when I fell on the jet. The fight with Winter this morning.

It was rather obvious. Same with knowing that I was being assessed by Falcon. He didn't even try to hide his glances. Watching my posture and how I spoke. Trying to catch me crying. As soon as I had come to start supper yesterday and Widow had asked me if I was alright he stood from where he was in the living room and stood watching us. I could see him counting how long it took me to hug back. 3 seconds.

But whatever right? I have a task to complete.

Reaching the ladder that took me to the rafters I climb up and walk without hesitation across the 1 foot wide beams. Looking back I notice that two of the others are having a hard time. Widow is walking in her toes, probably from being a ballerina and having excellent balance there. Winter was wobbly but would be okay. Captain was having a horrible time, almost falling at each step.

He had come up he ladder right after me so he was closest. Turning around I walk over and offer him a hand. With his face flushed and Winter glaring at me he took it.

Now holding something to keep his balance he makes it to my nest much faster then he would have without a hand to hold. Stepping onto the nest I look at Hawkeye seeing how he has rolled closer to the edge than where he was before.

Being as carful as possible I stand on the edge of the nest and slowly slide him over. When his head is almost back at the pillow I stop and move it so I can slide him at least 4 feet from the edge.

Having him in the spot I want him I recover him with the blanket and put his head back on the pillow forgetting I had an audience.

Smiling down at Hawkeye I remember that the others are watching. Looking up at them I see Captain watching me closely, while Winter has a look of pride on his face and a smirk plastered on Widow's lips.

Shrugging the looks off I mutter "I'm going to go clean up my mess in the gym."

With the others starting to turn around I want to be fast so no one can help me. I am an independent and stupidly determined person. Turning invisible I sprint from the joist they are on to the one next to it and jump in front of Winter who had gone back first. Turning back to visible while giving Winter a scare I continue to sprint down the beam a jump to the ladder. Sliding down I rush to the gym and start cleaning.

By the time the others are down and decide to come help I am almost finished.

"You clean up quick."

"That I do Widow. That and I clean up nice." Sending Winter a smirk as I say this.

"Не дразните его слишком много Серебра. Ему может это не понравиться." Don't tease him to much Silver. He may not like it.

"О, я вижу, что Уинтер нашел свою игривую сторону." Oh I see Winter has found his playful side.

"Конечно, у меня есть Наташа. Но я технически никогда не терял его." Of course I have Natasha. But I technically never lost it.

With Steve looking absolutely confused we stop our Russian and they watch me hang up a new punching bag.

"Those way a ton. How are you lifting it so easily?"

"I am much stronger than I look Captain."

"Obviously. But your not even trying."

"Steve she could throw that thing across the shed if she wanted to. Zemo gave her serums that let her become in-"

"They made it so I could lift a jet without breaking a sweat or bulking up."

"You cut Bucky off. What don't you want us to know?"

"Well. I suppose it's about time for breakfast right Widow? Why don't you wake up Hawkeye and the boys will go wake up the others."

"You changed the subject. You have a secret. And I'm going to find it out."

"You won't have to wait for long Widow. I will explain at breakfast."

With a satisfied smirk she turns and leaves.

Looking at Winter and Captain I realize Winter looks guilty and Steve seems confused.

"What?"

"You were speaking in French."

"Sorry Steve. Didn't realize that I switched to it. Winter they're bound to find out sooner or later. It's not a big deal. Now, let's go make Breakfast."

~~~time skippity~~~

While everyone was gathered around the table I look at Widow and smile. With a confused look on her face she watches me. Stabbing another piece of sausage with my fork I look to Winter and subtly nod. He coughs as if he's choking drawing Widows attention and during the few seconds she's looking away I disappear.

When she looks back towards where I should be she jumps. Because she's looking at my space at the table and seeing nothing. Eyes and faces are shocked as everyone turns to me, or at least where I should be.

Winter starts laughing at everyone's faces so they look from me to him. All except Captain. He's eyes are looking at my chair in disbelief.

I should- no I need to- tease him some more.

Since he's sitting directly on my right side I lean over and kiss him on the cheek. Leaning away quickly so his hand that rose to his face couldn't touch me I silently laugh. When he finally looks at Winter I become visible and continue eating as if nothing happened.

"What the hell Silver! Why didn't you tell us you could do that?" Stark Starts screaming right near my left ear

"Thank you for bursting my ear drum Stark."

"LADY OF SILVER-"

"Inside voice please Thor."

"Sorry m'lady, that is a wonderful magic trick. Could you do it again?"

"Of course." Slowly fading from solid to translucent to invisible I look at Captain once again. This is one of the few times I have ever actually looked at him.

I mean I saw him but never looked looked. Slowly standing up and clearing my plate making it invisible too "I can make whatever it touch disappear. That includes people. See?" Grabbing Captains shoulder he dissolved into thin air, only to reappear when I released him moments later. Walking to the other side of the kitchen and sitting silently on the counter I become visible.

"Ta-Da."

"So. You're quite the girl hey?"

"And what do you mean when you say that Widow?"

"Well HYDRA obviously messed with you a lot. You can produce fire from your hands, lift jets, and become invisible. Anything else we don't know about, that we should?"

"Not that I can think of off the top of my head. Winter? You have known me for most of my life. Anything we need to know?"

"You can also um, uh. Never mind. I'll talk to you later Silver. Then it will be up to you wether or not to tell the others."

"Okay. Suspicious but okay."

As everyone finishes their breakfast me clears the table, they disperse into what ever they want to.

I go back to the gym. I needed to burn off some steam. And I hopped Winter would find me out there.

[sunjaesol]

a possible shirbert s3 ending

Look, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert wasn't heartbroken. She was, for like a day, but then she had mustered all the power a Marilla glare could contain and got over it. Did she still love Gilbert? Sure. But she knew it was for the best; their paths simply didn't coinside. She was a summer storm, and he a winter sun. Her warm and wild, him collected and cheeky. Her grande adventure awaited her, yet he had already been through them. It was her turn to see Trinidad (or wherever the wind would take her).

Even if they shared the same intellect and wit and had a hunger for real connection and the worldly truth - it wasn’t meant to be. Perhaps it was fated. Perhaps she was destined for her heart to break, so that she'd find someone better in the future. She'd been hung up on Gilbert for far too long. Maybe at Queen's she'll finally find that dark, brooding character she has been writing about for years: no boyish smiles and winks and tinkling grins - a real man. (The thought made her shiver uncomfortably, but she ignored it.)

After a night of crying, she was ready to face the world again, to be diplomatic towards Gilbert ("Congratulations on the engagement! I really want that pen back though.") and focus on her goals. Being the best at Queen's and aiming to travel. She had always smelled the same scent, but she wondered how other counties smelled. Sweeter, or more bitter. Maybe the same as Canada. Maybe it smelled like nothing. Maybe it smelled like the future: metal and gas. Anne smiled, placing the last fork on the dinner table.

'What will you be doing today, Anne? Something eventful I presume?', Marilla asked, placing the porridge on the table. Right on time, Matthew came home, a sack of Blythe-Lacroix apples in his hand.

'Sebastian and Gilbert said hello,' he said, nodding.

‘I think I will visit Diana. We have ever so few days left before she departs to Paris,’ the word left a bitter taste in her mouth. Paris where Gilbert would be residing alongside Winifred, a place Anne hadn’t been able to offer. ‘Maybe I should make scones? What do you think, Matthew?’

He stared at her, surprised. ‘Uh, I think that would be nice.’

Anne clapped her hands. ‘It’s settled then, a dozen scones before noon. Should be fine. I’m fine, did I mention that? It’s an exquisite summer day and I will enjoy it to the fullest.’

Marilla threw her a concerned look. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Absolutely!’, Anne all but yelled.    

‘I will be off,’ Matthew interrupted, an awkward cough coming from his lips. ‘Tending to the foul and-’, he shrugged, leaving the kitchen and making haste towards the stable. Marilla rolled her eyes. The woman’s gaze fell back on her daughter who was busy assembling the ingredients.

‘Anne?’

‘Yes?’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes, Marilla,’ Anne sighed, exasperated, ‘I am . Gilbert made a decision and I will stand behind that. Now I only want to focus on my future. Have the results from the exams come in yet?’

Marilla stared at her for a moment, helpless. Only yesterday had she filled the girl with hope, to go after what she wanted and tell the Blythe boy about her feelings once and for all; to get that happily ever after she deserved. And yet. She was not one to think vile thoughts about another person, especially the lovely miss Winifred Rose, but in that moment she wished the lady didn’t exist.

‘No,’ she replied.

Anne puffed. ‘That’s alright. It must be tomorrow then, or later this evening.’

‘You mustn’t worry, Anne,’ Marilla reassured, ‘you’ll be fine.’

‘What about “perfect”?’, he girl retorted, beginning to mix the flour with the butter.

‘Again, it will be-’

‘Anne !’ The familiar, deep voice thundered across the Green Gables property, making both Cuthbert women jump in surprise. Anne’s heart rattled in her chest as she realised who it was. Despite the volume, he didn’t sound angry but rather excited.

‘Anne!’, he repeated, now closer.

‘Go,’ Marila ushered gently, taking Anne’s place at the mxing bowl. A promising smile adorned her thin lips. Perhaps…

Anne cautiously wiped her hands off on her apron, fear evident in her eyes. Was he going to cheerfully announce he was an engaged man? (If the situation ha dbeen different, she would’ve scoffed. “Man”, as if Gilbert Blythe wasn’t idiotic enough to be seen as a boy.) That the wedding was in two months across the pond so none of his family could celebrate? That he loved Winifred?

Or, she tried to calm her nerves, was it something else? Like Dellie saying her first word, or how great the schoolhouse was starting to look, or the results-

Anne’s eyes widened with glee, rushing out of the kitchen door onto the field where she nearly crashed into a sprinting Gilbert. His eyes were blown with esctasy, a crumpled piece of paper in his hand. For a second she thought it was her note, but upon taking a better look and realising it wasn’t the same, she relaxed.

‘The results! They’re in!’, Gilbert bellowed before she could say anything. Anne gasped, grabbing his forearm in a flurry of excitement. He didn’t seem to notice.

‘So?’, Anne shrieked, trying to snatch the paper from his hands. Gilbert smirked at that, keeping the paper above his head. Anne huffed, not even trying to get it as she knew she’d be fruitless. She has matured, thank you very much.

‘Guess?’

‘Guess what?’

‘Your ranking?’

‘Of the class? First, obviously ,’ she glared at Gilbert at the latter word, making his grin widen. It was then she realised the weight of the situation. He was here, in front of her, bathing in the bautiful morning sunshine. His hazel eyes glittered, hair deliciously fluffy (she’d lie if she said she hadn’t dreamed of it before), face right out of a romance novel.      

You’re over him.

Anne blinked, hoping he hadn’t noticed the staring. If she took a closer look, she’d see the blush on his cheeks as well. ‘And of the island?’ She bit her lip. ‘Tenth?’ Gilbert gave her a look. ‘Fine. Twentieth?’

Gilbert chuckled in disbelief, lowering his arm and giving her the paper. She grabbed it with shaky fingers. ‘Congratulations,’ he whispered.

Slowly, she unfolded the paper.

First. First of Avonlea. And third! Third in all of PEI! Her eyes skimmed past hers to look at the others. Gilbert right underneath her, but-

‘We’re tied,’ she whispered, horror on her face. After all these years of trying to one up him, they were tied . It only made the heartbreak more ironic, a bitter knife like a thorn in her eye. But then acceptance settled in her body. Sorbonne would accept him with these resuts, he’d be able to make his dreams come true, make his father proud. She should be happy for him.

Anne mustered a smile, ‘We’re tied.’

Gilbert’s gaze intensified as well. ‘Fair and square.’

‘Winifred,’ she perked up, noticing the frown marring his forehead, ‘must be over the moon. The Sorbonne will accept you with open arms.’

His eyes roved her face for a second. It unnnerved her, as if he could see right through her, straight to her soul where his name was etched in gold. ‘I’m not going.’

It felt as though she was struck by lightening. ‘You’re not?’ Her voice was frail.

Gilbert shook his head. ‘I went to Charlottetown yesterday to cancel everything. The courting, the engagement, Sorbonne, …’

‘But… your dream!’

‘Sorbonne is not my dream,’ he interjected, ‘I think I fell in love with the idea, rather than the place itself.’

Anne couldn’t focus on anything he said, his words buzzing in her brain without context. ‘And Winifred! How did- I- I thought-’

‘I don’t…,’ he gulped, ‘you know. I couldn’t see a future with her where I would be happy.’

Anne exhaled deeply, trying to take it all in. Why was he doing this, right as she started to heal her heart?! He lookd troubled too, the frown stuck on his face. If she had been his, she would’ve caressed the skin with her thumb.

‘So…,’ she murmered, staring, ‘now what?’

‘I’m going to Toronto, to the school miss Stacey suggested. And… I’ll wait. For the right person. I’ll know when I see her.’ She didn’t miss the notion that he was staring directly in her eyes, hazel glued to blue. A blush rose on her cheeks.

‘Anne! The scones!’, Marilla yelled from inside. The girl snapped out of it, giving Gilbert his paper back. Their fingers touched.

‘I have to get back,’ she whispered. Without awaiting his goodbye, she turned her back to him and walked back. Just as she reached the front steps, his voice beckoned her to turn around.

‘You know it’s you right?! It’s always been you!’ He stood there, helpless, desperation in his tone. Her jaw fell slack. The kitchen fell quiet too.

Gilbert loved her?

‘But it’s… it’s fine. I’ll wait,’ he raised his arms, ‘because I know I messed up.’      

Anne was speechless, staring at the boy ten meters away. Had he felt it too? All the moments in between where they didn’t do anything but be themselves and smile as if they knew something the other didn’t. All the nonsensical conversations and the deep ones, about politics and poetry. All the glares and locked gazes. Everything. It’s always been him.

Without realising her feet has rushed down the steps back to him, heart pounding in her throat as if trying to escape and place it in his hands.

‘Idiot,’ she breathed, ‘you don’t have to wait.’ And with that, she grabbed his neck and kissed him square on the lips, the way she always wanted to.

And there, on a summery morning at Green Gables - between scones and young fouls, between youth and adulthood, between a redheaded dreamer and a brunette charmer - the story of Anne and Gilbert continued.   

 “I love the ground under his feet, and the air over his head, and everything he touches and every word he says. I love all his looks, and all his actions and him entirely and all together.” - Emily Bronte