#only now noticed the second medicine cat's name was covered

[mist-the-wannabe-linguist]

My newest ClanGen clan! (and one I might actually pay attention to lmao)

[jezabelle9299]

Sick day S.R x fem!Reader

Overture:Reader’s sick on paperwork day, so Spencer goes to check on her.

Warnings: descriptions of a cold/ flu, taking liquid medicine without measuring it, terrible fire safety, some parts are a teensy bit suggestive because I can’t resist. (It’s all inner monologue stuff, no one actually does anything, but R is in a short nightgown that is very distracting for Spencer), also she has a cat named Buttons

You felt like death warmed over. It was paperwork day at the office and you were mostly caught up, so you decided to just send Hotch a quick text letting him know you couldn’t come in before moving sluggishly around your apartment. By the time you made it back to your bed you had a small box of tissues, the longest movie you owned in the dvd player, and a bottle of Nyquil with a straw in it. You didn’t have the energy to measure. You lit a candle to try and keep the stale feeling of sickness from completely overtaking your room. You felt gross and needed to change before the cold medicine totally knocked you out, so you chose a short nightgown in an attempt to keep you from sweating as much as you were in the fluffy pajama set you woke up in.

Every couple hours you drifted awake, enough to get a small sip of water, and pull your hair up out of your face. You didn’t even notice the knock on your apartment door, same as you hadn’t noticed the calls from your concerned coworkers. They knew you lived alone and weren’t feeling well, so when you didn’t answer their calls they sent Spencer. He finished his paperwork already, so he left before everyone else. When you didn’t answer your door he thought of every worst case scenario, before getting it together and letting himself in with the key you gave him. He’d never used it, but everyone on the team had a copy for safety.

What you did manage to notice through your delirium was a knock on your bedroom door. It didn’t really surprise you, Penelope came over a lot and when she did, she often let herself in. You grumbled something that was supposed to sound like “come in” but was more like a vague groan. You only noticed it wasn’t Penelope from the cautious way he opened the door, and his small “hey” and accompanying wave. You opened your eyes the rest of the way, and sat up in bed, wincing from the small movement. Spencer walked into your room, as you rubbed your eyes.

“Hey, what’s up? Is there a problem at work?” You started to gently move the covers, in a terrible attempt to get out of bed and back on the job. Spencer quickly covered you back up, really trying not to notice your attire. He was there to check on you, not stare. You may be the most beautiful person he’d ever seen, but you weren’t doing this for him. He knew that. He did not know that the possibility of him seeing you in this version of dolled-up (Sans fever and red nose) had crossed your mind, several times in fact. It was probably for the best that he covered you back up though, because there was no way you were successfully making it out of that bed.

“No, no case. Just checking on you, you weren’t answering your phone.” it was said without accusation or inconvenience, and you once again realized how sweet Spencer is. As if you needed a reminder. You still apologized, you didn’t want him or anyone on the team to worry.

“Sorry, my phone’s around here somewhere, I guess I just didn’t hear it.”

“Oh no, it’s ok. We just wanted to make sure you were ok, plus I finished my paperwork early.” He looked away from you for half a second, and the still lit candle caught his attention.

“I’ll spare you the fire safety statistics for now because you’re sick. But this is going out when I leave, because you really shouldn’t sleep with it lit.”

“For the record I’d love to listen to you talk about– well, anything really. And ambiance over safety is something I’ll choose any day.” He looked like he was going to have a stroke. You assumed it was the blatant disregard for fire safety, which was part of it. But it was mostly his heart jumping at you wanting to listen to him. You were always sweet to him, but it was something he never got used to, never got tired of.

“I’ll tell you later, it’ll be long and unconversational.” You just gave him the best smile you could manage, you were excited, but also in ridiculous pain.

“Also how long has that song been playing, and how have you not gone insane yet?”He was referring to the soundtrack on the dvd menu of your movie. It bothered you a few hours ago, but by now you’d chosen to just tune it out. The TV didn’t have a remote and you weren’t annoyed enough to get up to deal with it.

“A few hours, and that time has come and gone. The TV doesn’t have a remote, and it’s not bad enough to deal with yet.” He reached over and turned it off for you, making it look so easy. As you were about to respond you were cut off by an incredibly painful coughing fit, which sent your cat running from his spot under the covers, back to the floor. Spencer jumped back, almost falling over at the sight.

“You have a cat?!” He was clutching his chest like he was having a heart attack, but you just giggled at the ball of fur cautiously approaching him before falling at his feet. It was a gross, congested laugh but Spencer still thought it was the most beautiful sound in the world.

“I do, his name’s Buttons. Seems like he likes you.” Spencer got down on one knee, to give Buttons a small bit of his attention before turning it back to you and standing up.

“Is there anything I can do? Do you have a fever? Did you eat? I know you need more electrolytes, I could get you a bottle of water.” You loved listening to him talk, but you were still in a dense fog. By the time he finished you couldn’t remember what he started with. You knew you wanted more medicine, but you had no idea what time it was, and if you could take more.

“What time is it?” Spencer quickly looked down at his watch and replied “3:48” and you let out a huge sigh of relief, it had been almost 6 hours, so you could take more.

Oh thank god. Could you hand me that bottle of cold medicine?” When you pointed to your nightstand, and among the dvds and books he saw the bottle, no cap, no measuring cup to indicate dosage, and a pink bendy straw sticking out of it like it was soda.

“Have you been drinking this straight from the bottle?” You were already in for a fire safety lecture, why not one on the importance of proper dosage? You faked outrage, actually just leading to another small coughing fit.

“Of course not. I drank it through a straw like a lady.” He looked between you and the bottle twice before grabbing it, and muttering a quiet “absolutely not”. Then he walked out with the medicine, back down the hallway.

“Spencer Reid, get back here” You attempted to call out, but your voice was hoarse, and you had no idea if he could actually hear you. Of course he came back not even a minute later, with a proper amount of medication, as well as a cold bottle of water. And you immediately downed them both.

“Now do you have a fever?” You gave a vague shrug, which was definitely not the answer he was looking for.

“Can’t be certain, I don’t have a thermometer. I assume so though.” When he leaned forward to put a hand to your forehead, you moved back just as quick. You were already embarrassed he was seeing you pale, red, and exhausted. You didn’t need him to feel the sweat definitely occupying your forehead. But you didn’t want him to think it wasn’t ok to touch you other times, when you were feeling a little more confident. You weren’t quite coherent enough to lie and make up another reason that he shouldn’t touch you, so you looked away and mumbled the truth.

“You don’t want to touch me right now. I’m gross. And full of germs.” You tacked on the last part, because if nothing else deterred him, you figured the prospect of germs might. But he rolled his eyes at you, and leaned further until he could finally feel your temperature. Both of you were actively trying to ignore how he was leaning over you in your bed.

“We spend most of our time together, we’re past the point of avoiding each other's germs. Not to mention that diseases are most contagious before symptoms appear, and I sat next to you on the plane yesterday.” He sat back, and you got up from where you were practically laying down.

“You definitely have a fever, but the Nyquil will help soon. Have you eaten today?”

“Yes” You weren’t a great liar on a good day, you certainly wouldn’t fool Spencer now. He just gave you a look like he couldn’t believe you were even going to try.

“I brought soup, let’s go to the dining room and I’ll heat it up for you. The little bit of walking will be good for your circulation if you’re feeling up to it.” You nodded and he held both of your hands to get you up as smoothly as possible. Then by the grace of go you put on a large jacket that covered you a little bit more, and helped Spencer feel a little less crazy, stupid, and creepy.

You ate together, in a companionable silence. Every once in a while you’d ask Spencer to tell you about something obscure and wonderful, and he would, with a passion that never ceased to make you smile. By the time you were done, the medicine started to make you a little loopy. Spencer coerced you back to your bed, picked up your cat to put him next to you. Which didn’t work even a little bit, as soon as he put him down he jumped back up to hide under the bed, but the thought was very sweet.

“Get some more rest, I’ll tell Hotch you need a few more days, and I’ll see you at work when you get back. Penelope said she’d make you her mothers vegetable soup recipe if it was the last thing she did, so expect that tomorrow.” You gave a delighted hum, Penelope didn’t like cooking, she didn’t really do so often, so this was huge for her. And the fact that it was for your benefit made you feel fussed over in a way you never thought possible. Loved, and yet somehow not suffocated. You snuggled back into your pillows, and let words slip you had said in your head a million times.

“This is why I love you Spencer, you’re so sweet to me” you had no idea you just shattered his heart and put it back together in a second. He dreamed of you saying those words to him, frequently. And the first time he actually hears them from your lips you’re half asleep and giving off enough heat to cook an egg. The fact you likely wouldn’t even hear him, let alone remember by the time you’re feeling better and the fog has lifted he allowed himself, just this once to be honest in this regard.

“I love you too.” Then he quietly left you to sleep peacefully, blowing out the candle on his way out, and secretly wishing you meant what you said. He didn’t believe in wishes, and in many religions that use candles as part of rituals or spells, blowing out the candle defeats the purpose, with the flame needing to burn to its fullest, or be gently snuffed out. But he wouldn’t, or couldn’t, stop himself from chanting his wish in his head as the flame went out, leaving only a puff of smoke behind.

His words echoed through your brain in sleep, to the point where you weren’t sure he’d actually said them by the next morning. You told yourself it didn’t even matter. If he did say them, it was platonic. He was just placating you while you weren’t feeling well. 2 days in bed, 24 hours fever-free, and a long talk with Penelope later (Over her fantastic vegetable soup) you decided to tell Spencer how you felt. At this point you’d rather be awkward coworkers who have a hard time speaking than whatever this is. This is painful, and leaves you crying because you can’t think of why you can’t get over this crush. If he liked you back, which you truly hoped he did, it would be like that small piece of what you wanted fell perfectly into place. And if he didn’t, which was a thought that terrified you, but you tried to brace for, you at least needed to know for certain.

First thing in the morning, you got there as early as possible, catching up on paperwork while waiting on Spencer to get there. You greeted a majority of your team before, trying not to let them see your nervous energy, playing off any odd behaviors as residual from your sickness. You couldn’t tell if it was working. (It was not working, but they weren’t going to say anything).

You asked Spencer to help you find a file for your paperwork and he thought he was in the clear. You either didn’t remember his little love confession, or were ignoring it for his benefit. Either way he was happy, he could continue to peacefully, painfully, pine for you without ever having to hear the finality of his inevitable rejection. He could imagine a world where he was yours, until the idea alone withered him to nothing. He could just follow you to the file room like a lost puppy dog.

Once the door was closed behind the two of you, you must’ve cleared your throat 3 times by now. You planned out what you were going to say, but everything felt off, too planned at best.

“So—um, sorry, I haven’t really done this before. I. I really like you, and not in like a friendly coworker way, in like a dating, relationship-y way. And I totally get it if you don’t feel the same way, we can totally just forget about it, but I just wanted to…tell you, I guess.”

It was like every nerve in his body blinked. Like his entire nervous system shutdown from happiness. He couldn’t believe it, he couldn’t respond, because he couldn’t speak. But you were looking at him, for any sign one way or the other, so he got an extremely rushed response out, slower than the stream of his thoughts, but still barely understandable.

“I like you too, in a romantic sense, I mean. I thought you knew, I can’t believe you actually— you actually like me, like that.” You held his hands and gave him a kiss on the cheek, pulling him down a little bit so his face was actually within the reach of your lips.

“How could I ever not?” He pulled you in for a hug, and if it was any tighter he probably would have popped your back. Until you whispered into his collar.

“We should probably go back, we are technically on the clock, and I don’t know if you’ve noticed but we have some pretty nosey coworkers.” He laughed as he pulled back from you. But the laugh subsided into a nervous smile.

“Will you go to dinner with me tonight? For our first date?” He still sounded scared that you’d run away, that it was all some cruel joke and you’d yell ‘sike’ as you left him behind in the small room. But you didn’t you smiled and nodded and he held your hand when you walked out.

But when he opened the door for you, Penelope, Derek, and Emily came tumbling out, nearly falling over in the process. Clearly having been leaning against the door trying to eavesdrop. Unsuccessfully apparently, since they don’t hear you coming. When you cocked an eyebrow at their actions Penelope just waved you off.

“So?how’d it go? New power couple? Can I alert the masses?” You just laughed, she still hasn’t noticed you holding hands.

“Seems like you already did.” Then you ignored everyone’s questions walking off to your desks, as Emily pointed out your interlocked hands to Penelope and she practically swooned on your behalf.

[grossrottie]

Favourite Fireheart ships 👀? His just so shippable and I wanna hear your thoughts.

OOOH WHERE TO START!

I love so many Fireheart ships. In no particular order:

Fireheart x Tigerclaw: Yesyes it's one of the OG delicious ships, but it still has my heart. Whether it's angsty, toxic, fluffy, loving, AU or canon, it's *chef's kiss*. Seriously tho, the options are endless and decadent! Canon!Tigerclaw manipulating Firepaw and dragging him to the dark side? Evil!Fireheart using Tigerclaw's actions as a scapegoat ("He's so evil, maybe I can frame him for my murders and use his reputation to keep myself clean")? Lonely Firepaw needing a father figure and leaning towards Tiger, even though it might (or might not) put him in a difficult spot? Fireheart admiring Tigerclaw and not realizing why he gets so flustered when he sees Tigerclaw in combat? Firepaw growing jealous of Ravenpaw having Tiger as a mentor, even as Fire acknowledges that Ravenpaw wants nothing to do with his mentor? Yesyesyes, all of it is good!

Fireheart x Cinderpelt (and then Cinderheart): Unrequited love + star crossed lovers + pining + broken dreams? OH YEAH! Cinderpaw had a crush on Fireheart from the start, and she was secretly determined to become his mate once she became a warrior. Then her leg was crushed by a monster and her dreams were ruined. Not only the dreams of having Fireheart as her mate, but her dreams of even having him close to her. As a medicine cat, she was now forbidden of any kind of romantic love, not just her adoration for her former mentor. Now with multiple things keeping her from Fireheart, she reluctantly accepts her plight and lives her life just admiring him from afar, or at most, as a friend. Then she dies and she's reborn, given another chance to achieve what she's always wanted. The new, second Cinderpaw grows up with an intense interest in her leader, even though she has no idea why she feels so strongly. He's a good leader and she respects him, but her body tingles with jealousy when she sees him with Sandstorm. She watches him with sharp eyes and a pumping heart, unsure why she feels the way she does. It's almost all-consuming. She becomes a warrior and is dubbed 'Cinderheart', after the medicine cat who gave her life to let Cinderheart and her siblings be safely born. Over the next few moons she learns that she was reincarnated and she regains the memories of her old life. Now with a strong body, a warrior name, and no Starclan-damned rules about mates, she can have what she wants. Who she wants. How she goes about it is up to debate! It could be obsession, or love, or a quiet pining that grows and eventually explodes. Depends on what plot/theme you'd want!

Fireheart x Spottedleaf: This one is a bit 'basic'/common, but I like it regardless. The canon is neat, but I think I prefer mine with a bit of angst. Firepaw, freshly joined to Thunderclan and pretty much alone, is approached by a kind, sweet-smelling she-cat who comforts him and gives advice. She encourages Firepaw's interest in her. The power imbalance would be unnoticed by Firepaw ("She's so mature and beautiful, I can't believe she likes me! This is amazing!") but others might notice or comment. However Spottedleaf is sweet, kind, and a wonderful medicine cat, so not many pay attention or oppose her interest in Firepaw.

Fireheart x Graystripe: I'm a sucker for best friends also being lovers. There are two flavours that could be radical! 1) Graystripe sneaks off to meet Silverstream as in canon, and Fireheart covers for him. But even so, Fireheart watches longingly and wishes that Graystripe would love him rather than a Riverclan cat. He can't bring himself to hate Silverstream, he knows that she's done nothing wrong. She makes Graystripe happy and vice versa, and Fireheart wouldn't sabotage that. When Silverstream dies, Fireheart doesn't know what to say—especially since he almost feels happy. The realization shocks him and makes him doubt himself, and he wonders if he truly is Graystripe's friend. After all, a proper friend wouldn't have a sick sense of relief that his best friend's lover died. It makes his skin crawl and maybe he retreats from Graystripe, becoming slightly distant even though his friend needs his support now more than ever. Graystripe is confused and leans more on Fireheart in response, seeking support and love from his best friend. Then comes a potential fork in the story-telling road. Is Fireheart a good-hearted cat? What does he do in response? Or for more flavour, does Fireheart genuinely feel happy about Silverstream's death? Is he unrepentant and uncaring that Graystripe is upset, as long as his competition is out of the picture? Or did Fireheart perhaps have something to do with Silverstream's death?

Fireheart x Ashfur: This one is a bit out there, but imagine! "Squirrelflight rejected me and I'm heartbroken. My leader notices and offers support and a shoulder to lean on. I eventually let my leader see into my inner thoughts and my worries, and Fireheart assures me that I'm a valued member of my clan, whether his daughter notices it or not." But then Ashfur notices that Squirrelflight is angered by his closeness with Firestar. She demands to know what Ashfur is up to, but he says that he isn't 'up to' anything. However Squirrelflight's response makes Ashfur consider his options. Mainly, the option to infuriate Squirrelflight and spite her by Ashfur growing even closer to Firestar. It also gives Ashfur a bit of wiggleroom in his own mind, as this gives him the chance to say "I'm not truly this in love with Firestar, it's just a bit of pretending to anger Squilf" and distance himself from the emotion and admiration that truly grows in him, each time he hangs out with Firestar and shares tongues.

Hmmmm do I have any other ideas off the top of my head...

OH WAIT I HAVE ONE MORE

Fireheart x Scourge: I saw a fanart of Rusty joining Bloodclan as a kit and it made me so happy omg. Imagine Rusty being accepted into Bloodclan and made into Scourge's protegee/adopted son. The thought of Rusty trying hard and working to be the best that he can be, and Scourge grows more and more proud of him. Perhaps later on, when Tigerclaw comes into the picture, Scourge is murmuring to himself about what might happen to Bloodclan. Rusty is sitting nearby, as usual, and listening. Scourge doesn't reveal his worries to many cats, but Bone and Rusty are two who know most about him. As things get rockier for Bloodclan (it's been a while since I read that arc so my ideas for the specifics are a bit rusty, pardon the pun), Scourge grows a bit more worried. He wants his clan to be the strongest it can be. Eventually Tigerclaw approaches Scourge and suggests an alliance, and Rusty doesn't let that slide. Some random tom appearing out of nowhere and trying to convince Scourge to join him? No way! Rusty approaches Scourge and demands (as best he can) that they become mates. Scourge is shocked—He's practically Rusty's dad! But Rusty rolls his eyes and dismisses that comment. He's admired Scourge from the start, and he's an adult now, he can choose what to do! It takes some convincing, but Scourge and Rusty become partners and face off with Tigerclan together, not bothering to give Tigerclaw the benefit of becoming allies. (or perhaps they still team up, but Scourge's/Rusty's two-cat leadership gives them more power, and Tigerclaw struggles to be the top-dog.

[randynova]

Poor Petal, she must have had a panic attack when she found out she was pregnant for the first time.

She was downright terrified.

She broke down crying, screaming into her pillow, refusing to let Doma hold or console her. Surprisingly, he left her alone, letting her deal with her emotions on her own.

The only words he left her was, "Oh, [Name], I'm so happy. Soon, we're going to be parents, my sweet pretty petal!"

[Name] just couldn't understand how this happened. She was careful, so diligent in taking the tea every night. She began racking her mind, trying to make sense of it all, and search for a possibility why this small mistake occurred.

Until she recalled two months prior, where Doma's insatiable hunger for his wife consumed him. Like an animal in heat, he forced himself on her, ignoring her pleas to stop, releasing his fertile seed deep into her womb. Over and over again, he made sure every night she was filled with his cum, having the sole mission to make her bear his children.

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

Doma had to travel southward for demon duties and he felt this was the perfect opportunity for you both to get closer. A whole week together, all alone while he was free from his duties, a chance to finally have some quality bonding time without his cult. It was a dream come true.

However, this place was in the middle of nowhere, hardly any villages, let alone stores, around. All the sources you used to protect yourself from Doma were gone, the foods and teas you consumed to prevent a pregnancy out of reach.

The only people around were fellow upper moons, who stayed far away from your husband, especially you.

Thus, you were forced to endure his doting behavior, forced to play his dangerous games, and forced to let him breed you.

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

"Pretty petal. So pretty, so beautiful. You're taking me so well, hah," Doma laughs, snapping his hips harshly, thick balls slapping against your skin. You bounced with every thrust, mewling and whimpering, begging him to slow down. It only stirred him on to go faster. "No, no, no, this is the best way to ensure maximum success with fertilizing you. I have to make sure my seed is as deep as possible inside you, my petal!"

The aching between your legs grew, arching your back as an orgasm washes over you once again. Your juices release over his thick cock, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your velvet walls constrict around him. "Ah! Ah, D-Doma!"

"Mm, hngh! P-petal! Petal! Petal! " Doma whines out, biting his bottom lip, grinning like a madman as the sweet relief of climax fast approaches him. His thrusts turn sloppy and his hips stutter. Quickly, he pulls out and leaves you feeling empty for a few seconds. He grabs your legs, hooking his arms around your knees, and pushes your thighs to your chest, claws digging into your plush skin as he starts to hammer into you. "So-so good! Such a good girl! You'll be such a good mother, sweet petal! Just you wait! I'll make you a mommy, ok? Just- fuck!"

He releases long, thick ropes of cum, painting your womb white with his fertile seed once more. He thrusts weakly, head falling back as he gasps. "Mm, ah-ah, [N-Name]...!" You squeeze your eyes shut, looking to the side, swallowing bitterly as he fills you to the brim, cum leaking out as he slides in and out. It drips onto the bed, staining the pristine, red cotton sheets.

"Oh, petal, please don't look away. I want to see you," Doma croons, pulling out with a shaky breath and looking down at the mess between your legs with a grin. White painted the sheets below like a puddle. He pulls out with a groan. Seeing the way your pussy gushes out his cum, flexing around nothing, it makes him want to take you all over again. He slides two fingers up across your folds, gathering his seed, and pushing it back into your sopping hole with his fingertips. He hums whilsts you whine, rocking your hips at the weird sensation. "Such a pretty sight, you took me so well, petal. I'm so proud of you!"

He's met with silence. Though, it doesn't bother him as he already fulfilled his task for the night. After five long rounds, he believes its enough for the day and he'll repeat the process tomorrow. For now, both of you need rest, we'll, mainly you if you're going to stay awake during the whole ordeal.

You were in a daze as Doma cleaned both you and himself up, changing the sheets into soft clean ones, and covering your body with the blankets, tucking it in.

"Good night, my pretty wife," Doma whispers, taking his spot beside you, his arms slithering around your frame and pulling you close. His chest pressed against your nude back, his legs tangling in yours, and he buried his face in your hair, taking a deep breath of your sweet aroma. "I love you..."

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

Immediately after coming back from your journey, Doma became busy, his schedule packed to the brim with orders from his master. It irritated him, saddened him even, that he would be apart from you for a while.

As much as he loved ravishing your body every night, he had to focus on completing every task with precise accuracy. He doesn't want to disappoint his master after all.

But before he left you alone the first night back, he replaced your assigned follower with a different one. One that reported back to him and carried out his orders, their loyalty to the demon overriding their morals to protect you.

He wasn't stupid. It didn't take long for him to figure out the tea you drank prevented you from becoming pregnant, a huge change to the tea he got to make you fertile. The news did upset him, but he hid the discovery and played along with your little antics. It made him try to come up with a solution, where he disguised the tea you drank to better fit his wishes.

Like an unsuspecting mouse, you walked right into the cat's claws.

Anyone who tried helping you was either eaten by Doma or killed by him in another manner. If the actions of a stupid, disloyal follower was keeping him away from his dream of having a family, the demon won't hesitate to get rid of them. They should know better.

Doma's dreams are his followers' orders.

If he says he dreamt of eating a hundred virgins, his followers should offer him the bountiful feast of meat from a hundred virgins.

If he says he dreamt of growing his cult, his followers should go out and recruit people to join them.

Now, if he says he dreams of a child with his wife, his followers should offer their help and make sure he gets his child.

By god, did they live up to his expectations for once. Everyone - from the ones who prepared your meals to the new members who brought you gifts - made sure every small action built up to the final wish of their leader's plan.

Every food and drink you consumed had been carefully chosen to help make you plump and help the baby grow. Every bath had been filled with excotic herbs to soothe your changing body. Every offering had slowly been gearing towards a human smaller than you. Yet, you never really paid attention to the small differences.

Doma noticed how tired you seem lately, how you complained to the follower assigned to you about the tenderness of your breast and the pain of your abdominal and pelvis area, and even how different you looked, almost glowing.

At first, he didn't put the pieces together. Surely all women were like this, right? Yet, that wasn't the case.

He found himself always wondering why your emotions were easily more unhinged, why you ate the foods he hand-fed you more easily, or why you were napping in the afternoon. Yes, he liked these changes and welcomed them eagerly, believing you were finally warming up to him. But why?

After nearly six weeks, you were worried why your period didn't come. You speculated the stress could have been a prominent factor in causing your late cycle, sometimes occurring in your youth. You seem bloated lately as well, you note, or it could've been weight gain due to the food you have been eating lately. Thus you brushed it off.

It'll come soon, you just know it. Afterall, you're still a human and change is a part of life.

In another area of the temple, a different situation was unfolding. When the trusted follower reported to Doma about your very late menstrual cycle, he clapped with joy like a child being entertained. Of course! How slow can he be?! You finally are carrying his child! The hormonal changes affected how you behaved with him and the sudden weight gain explained it all.

Oh, he just couldn't wait for the day to come!

However...

He had to make sure you did nothing irresponsible to push back his dream.

Doma became more strict and possessive with you. He didn't let you go anywhere alone. Even if you were in the privacy of your room, someone had to be there.

The days where you spent waiting for him in your bedroom were now spent at his side. He forced you to sit on his lap like before, feeding you more than you're used to. Any question concerning his increase of doting behavior was met with a laugh and a kiss to your cheek. "I just love you so much, I want you to be healthy!"

Doma isn't stupid. He knew the moment he mentioned, or even insinuated, you were pregnant, you would break down and possibly affect the baby negatively. He didn't know if you were capable of taking drastic measures of getting rid of it this far along, but he didn't want to find out.

With careful, watchful eyes, Doma made sure everyday you were fed well, that you were always protected, and made sure nothing upset you. He went the extra mile to find medicine and herbs incase you ever fell ill. The demon made sure your attention was always occupied to keep from noticing your changing body.

To say it worked was an understatement.

By the fifth month, you realized despite your growing stomach, you weren't gaining weight anywhere else. Most of your clothes fit like a glove except around your abdomen.

Your heart began to race as you wracked your mind of the events for the past few months.

When was the last time you had gotten your period?

You don't recall changing your sheets every month because you stained it, nor do you recall dealing with the hassle of keeping yourself clean. Come to think of it, you felt at ease these past few months, the usual cramps and cravings you felt no longer bothering you like before.

Ridding yourself of your clothes, slipping your kimono off until you're left in your undergarments of hadajyuban and susuyoke. You undid your sash and revealed your stomach. You're met with the sight of your bulging tummy and tender breasts. Pressing a finger pad to the skin of your stomach, it seemed firm instead of soft and plush. With a shaky breath, you pressed your palms against your stomach and...

Kick. Kick.

You removed your hands immediately, face falling. No...

No. No! No! No!

How didn't you notice it before!?

Your chest fell and rose quickly with every breath you took, hyperventilating as the situation dawned on you. You were pregnant. Actually pregnant with that damn demon's child. A bellowing scream ripped from your throat, the high-pitch intensity resonating like shattering glass throughout the temple.

Doma raced to your bedroom, fearing the worse as he heard his wife scream. He ran into the bedroom, only to be met with your form bawling on the floor, hunched over as sobs wracked your body. Followers tried to console you, yet you ignored them.

Doma approached you carefully and crouched down, but the moment he put a hand on your back, you whipped your head and cracked your hand across his face like a whip. He fell back, catching himself, shock etched into his features. You... You hit him? He paid no mind to the followers who raced to his side, asking him if he was okay. He was more surprised you dared slap him.

The stinging of his cheek didn't hurt , but it caught him off guard. He looked up and leered at you with wide eyes. Yet he clashed with the burning, sorrowful gaze you held.

"Fuck you! Goddamnit, leave me alone, you monster! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!!" You screech, standing up and burying your face in your hands. Tears slipped through your fingers and dripped to the floor.

Doma smiled, finally understanding why you were reacting the way you were. He began chuckling, then giggling, and then he broke into a fit of laughter. He stood up and held a hand to his face, looking at you with a crazed, delighted expression on his face. Gleefully, he spoke, "Oh, petal! You finally caught on!"

You shake your head and begin crying louder, turning your back to the demon. "No, no, no...," you whimper.

"We're going to be parents...," Doma croons, taking small, quiet steps towards you. Like before, he tries pulling you close but you brush him off.

"Please... Please, just leave me alone...!"

"Oh, [Name], you'll see. Once our baby is here, you'll love being a mommy. Just like I'll love being a papa...!"

"No... I didn't want this...."

"But I did! I told you for so long...," Doma whispers, uncomfortably close to you. He lets out a breathy laugh. "And now that you're finally with child, I'm going to make sure I see my baby no matter what."

You could only stand in horror, listening to his voice. The panic crawled up your throat, fear taking hold of you as you froze up. With bated breath, you wait for him to leave. But his next words made your heart drop and blood run cold.

"I'm willing to do anything for our child, [Name]. Even if it means I may have to hurt you to guarantee their safe arrival."

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

Doma is not submissive and breedable. He is dominant and fertile.

He finally has his wish of having a family with the woman he loves.

And he'll do anything to make it come true.

Even if it means he has to become the monster and hurt you to get it.

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

©𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚟𝚊 || 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚍 || 𝚗𝚘 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜, 𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚜, 𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚎𝚝𝚌. 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚌𝚒𝚛𝚌𝚞𝚖𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜,

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 8,347 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: the Greene farm Warnings: Language, violence, gore, attempted sexual assault, discussions of trauma, typical TWD A/N: This is Part 1 of the new miniseries! This should be 2 or 3 parts total, and it's kind of intense and a bit dark at certain points so heed the warnings ya'll. Summary: Y/N is considered quiet, standoffish, and even a bit odd by the group, but Daryl knows how much she does around camp to care for everyone. After a traumatic incident while searching for Sophia, Daryl starts to discover why Y/N is the way she is.

Your name: submit What is this?

The group was all sitting around the low campfire, eating some breakfast. The two Greene girls came out with baskets in hand. Beth approached Rick and held hers out. “We have some more eggs for you all. Our hens lay more than we can eat,” she said.

Rick gratefully accepted them with an earnest look and a nod. “Thank you. That’s very kind.”

“And some potatoes,” Maggie offered. Lori grabbed her basket.

“Really, you all are being so kind. If there’s anything we can do to help around the place just let us know,” she said.

Beth was looking off into the distance at you sitting alone, away from the group, your back to the farmstead. “What’s wrong with her?” she asked, without really thinking.

“Beth!” Maggie scolded her.

“Well, I—I just mean she never eats with ya’ll. She seems like she’s always off on her own,” Beth explained, a little sheepish from her sister’s scolding.

The rest of the group was looking your direction now too, many of them asking the same questions in their minds.

“C’mon, now. That’s enough,” Maggie said. “Daddy needs help with the laundry.”

The group watched them head back to the farmhouse and Shane was the next one to break the silence. “It’s a fair question,” he said, chuckling to himself wryly, glancing back over his shoulder at you before leaning in to grab another helping of breakfast. “She hasn’t exactly meshed into the fabric of the group, has she?”

“Shane, give it a rest,” Lori said sternly.

“No offense meant but I don’t think I’ve ever heard her say more than two words at a time,” Andrea said. “You can’t pretend like there isn’t something… odd there.”

Dale hummed. “Not that it’s really our business, but she’s never said anything about what happened to her before we found her out by the quarry. I’ve tried to ask her about her family, what she used to do before all this,” he shrugged vaguely. “Never got a thing out of her. That’s her right if she doesn’t want to talk about it, but it does seem a little strange.”

“That’s all I’m sayin’,” Shane said. “Somethin’ weird with that girl,” he trailed off.

Daryl stood up, annoyed. “Ya’ll are a buncha busy body gossips. If ya’d open your damn eyes for two seconds you’d realize she does more for this group than most of ya combined,” he growled. “She gathered that wood burnin’ in your fire right there. Them mushrooms mixed in with your damn eggs, who the hell ya think found those? Ya think they just magically appeared along with that stuff you’re usin’ to make tea every night?” He tossed his empty plate down on the grass and scoffed. “People who don’t trust easily usually got a damn good reason. ’M outta here.”

Shane watched him go in slight amusement, but most of the others looked a little ashamed of themselves. Daryl was right, of course. You did do a lot for the group. You just kept to yourself. You didn’t make a big show of bringing back some meat or foraged food. You never complained when Rick or Shane asked you to do something. You took more than your fair share of the night watches. And the fact that no one knew anything about your past, the fact that you didn’t talk much, didn’t need any explanation to Daryl. Based on his own background, he could guess there was a reason you were the way you were.

A short time later, Daryl noticed you gathering up your pack and grabbing your pistol and recurve bow. He wandered over as you were snapping your knife into its sheath at your hip. “Ya headin’ out to search again?” he asked softly. You and him seemed to be the only ones who hadn’t completely given up hope of finding Sophia. You simply nodded once.

“Alright,” Daryl drawled. “What’s your plan?” Asking a question that wasn’t a simple yes or no was always a toss-up with you. Half the time he’d get a short answer, half the time he wouldn’t.

“North side of the ridge,” you said. Your voice was always quiet and measured. The archer usually wished most people would talk less, but with you he always hoped to hear more. The little that you said was purposeful and deliberate. There was no idle bullshit.

He nudged his nose up in a nod at you. “Alright. I’ll start by that creek and work along the south side. We can be close by in case either of us gets into trouble with walkers,” he said.

You simply nodded again and gave him a long thoughtful look. You did that a lot. Daryl had the feeling there was a lot going on behind your eyes, but you never spoke any of it. Surprisingly, he never felt nervous or uncomfortable when you looked at him like that. He just hoped someday maybe you’d open up a little bit more. The next moment you had turned and were heading toward the tree line already. Daryl scrambled to gather his gear and set off after you.

He could see your figure ahead, disappearing into the brush and soon he couldn’t see or hear you at all. He set out along the south side of the ridge as planned, picking his way along the creek, scrutinizing every inch of ground and hoping for a shoeprint.

Along the north side you were doing the same. You frequently knelt to examine some little scrape in the litter or soil and as you went you filled the little cloth bag you carried with edible and medicinal plants, berries, and fungi. The day wore on with no sign of the little girl and your frustration and fear grew even as the sun reached its apex in the sky and started to drift back down toward the western horizon.

You turned and started picking a new path back, heading toward the farm now rather than away. The deepening shadows made detecting print or trail more difficult but you kept your focus sharp on the ground as you moved, your bow slung over your shoulder next to your quiver.

You were becoming tired when you noticed an impression in the mud. You knelt, one knee of your jeans sinking into the damp soil. It was a boot print, but certainly not left by Sophia. You stared at the detail of the sole impression and your brow drew down low immediately. You have everyone’s shoe designs memorized. It wasn’t one you recognized. Your eyes drifted up and you could see a worn trail through the underbrush and more prints, heavy in the mud. There were at least three men who had left this trail, and they weren’t walkers. The path was straight ahead with no stagger and you could tell they were picking their way through the underbrush. You crouched and started to follow the trail. You needed to get eyes on these people. They were awfully close to the farm… Close enough, certainly, to see the smoke rising from the chimney and your fire circles.

You ghosted through the woods following the trail, moving as silently as you could. You’d been on the path for probably ten minutes when you could hear careless, noisy movement ahead. You must have caught up with them. Your heart hammering in your chest, you stayed low and crept closer. As you moved around a partially downed tree you could finally see the shapes of two men ahead. They were scruffy and filthy, clearly living on the move in the woods. You needed a closer look. You wanted to see what kinds of weapons they had on them. If you could scout out the group, you could determine whether something needed to be done about them or not.

As you tried to shift to another patch of concealing cover, you didn’t notice your bow catching on a low hanging dead branch. By the time you felt the resistance it was too late. The whole branch pulled loose with a loud snapping sound as it bent and cracked other dried branches and twigs on its way down. The two men you had been watching spun immediately and had weapons raised, rifles pointed in your direction. You were swearing under your breath and instantly on your feet aiming your pistol right back.

“Well, shit! What the hell do we have here?” one of the men asked, shifting a little to get a better look at you. “You alone out here, sweetheart?”

You fell an immediate swell of anger and dread rising up in your chest.

“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” the second man asked, grinning and revealing teeth that were tobacco stained and yellow.

“What’s a fine little thing like you doing out here by yourself? Don’t you know it’s dangerous? There are all kinds of monsters in these woods,” the first man said, looking you up and down thoroughly. His companion laughed.

Fuck. This was bad. Why had you pushed your luck and crept in so closely? Now you were outnumbered and you knew there was at least one other man somewhere that you didn’t have eyes on.

Your chest was heaving with anxious breaths from the rush of adrenaline. The first man stepped a bit closer again and you responded by taking a measured step back, your pistol aimed squarely at his chest. Now what? Should you make a run for it? Would they shoot you? Based on the animalistic looks in their eyes you knew things could go very bad, very quickly if you couldn’t get the fuck out of there. Your mind was whirring.

Suddenly, you heard a stick crack behind you and you turned instinctively to see a third man now rushing you. He landed a fist into your jaw and your vision went black as you fell to the ground, holding onto your pistol as tightly as you could. The pain radiating from your jaw into your head was overwhelming. You blinked, willing the darkness to clear, but it lingered as you suddenly felt rough hands on you, rolling you over and ripping both your bow and rifle from your back.

You struggled blindly and managed to get yourself onto your back again as the darkness in your eyes faded instead to the outlines of blurred shapes. You could make out the shape of the man standing over you and you instinctively raised your pistol and squeezed several rounds which sounded like cracks of thunder in the close woods. You missed, the scene still foggy, and you immediately squeezed again and discharged another round but the man leapt down on you with a wild yell, knocking your arm to the side and pinning it into the ground. His weight pressed down on you and you were vaguely aware of an acrid smell filling your nostrils, causing bile to rise up in your throat. He pried your pistol from your hand and tossed it away into the brush.

You writhed beneath him, struggling to get clear of his grasp but he was much bigger than you and soon there was another set of hands on you. You were rolled onto your stomach again and your arms were pulled back behind you and held painfully tight.

“We got ourselves a wild cat here, boys!” one of the men laughed. “Get her up,” he ordered. You were pulled roughly onto your feet, still trying to blink away the remaining fuzziness in your eyes and struggling against your captor.

The first man, who seemed to be the leader, paced over, watching you with a look of satisfaction on his face as you still tried to fight loose. His rifle was now dropped casually by his side. He grabbed your chin cruelly and pulled it up so you looked right into his eyes. His fingers dug into the tender spot on your jaw where the other man had hit you. “Ain’t you a pretty little thing,” he murmured silkily.

You yanked your face from his grasp and he chuckled, glancing back at the other man standing just behind him. “She’s a good one,” he said, a sick smirk on his face. He looked back at you and his eyes roamed perversely over your body. “This’ll be fun.”

He turned violent and grabbed the front of your light cotton shirt, ripping it harshly down off one shoulder, tearing the breezy plaid fabric easily and popping off the first three buttons. The man holding you only tightened his grip. Your throat constricted so tightly it was hard to breathe. You felt like your heart was beating so hard that it would surely burst. You could feel everyone’s eyes on your newly bared skin. Next the leader withdrew a knife and pressed the point into the center of your chest just above your bra. You cringed at the feeling of the biting cold metal pricking your skin.

He stepped close into you and moved the knife up to your throat, pressing it to the side of your neck and drawing it lightly across your skin just enough to cut you. You winced and shut your eyes, trying to keep as still as possible with that blade to your throat and you soon felt a rivulet of warmth rolling down toward your collarbone. You opened your eyes as the knife left your throat and he slipped it under your exposed bra strap, rotating it and lifted up until the fabric started to separate along the sharp edge. Finally, it gave and the strap hung loosely down. He sucked in a hiss of breath through his teeth, his eyes hungry and crazed. “This will be a lot easier on you if you just cooperate. Then again… I like a woman with some fight in her,” he snarled. “Your choice.” His companions let out more appreciative laughter as fear twisted your stomach.

You felt yourself going numb. Suddenly, you couldn’t feel any pain anymore. You couldn’t feel the man’s hands pinning your arms back. You couldn’t feel the blood that was now running down your chest. Your eyes drifted to the leader’s cold, blue blade and then unfocused so the scene simply became a haze. And you suddenly realized that they hadn’t taken your knife. It was still in its sheath on your hip…

A short distance away, Daryl had been thinking that it was probably about time to call it a day and head back when he heard a series of loud gunshots. His body went rigid and he turned frantically, staring off into the brush. He strained his hearing to its limit. They’d definitely come from your direction. Abandoning any other thought, he sprung into motion, racing through the woods as fast as he could in the direction he thought the blasts had come from.

Back in camp, everyone else had heard the shots too. Shane turned and looked at Rick, his gaze intense.

“Were those gun shots?” Lori asked, fear in her voice.

“Yeah,” Rick said, rising to his feet and rushing to grab his gun from the stash of weapons in the RV. “Shane, T, Glenn, let’s go! The rest of you stay here!”

Hershel stepped out onto the porch and watched the group of men racing across the pasture toward the trees. He had a bad feeling in his gut. Maggie and Beth came out, the slamming screen door punctuating the piercing silence that fell after the shots.

Daryl smashed through the brush carelessly, his eyes scanning the ground for a trail, any trail, something to follow. Finally, his eyes locked on boot prints that were surely yours. He vaguely registered that there were much larger impressions in the soil too, several different boots much larger than yours. And they certainly weren’t from walkers.

“Son of a bitch,” he cursed under his breath. He froze and scanned the thick greenery. He strained his hearing again, listening for some sound, anything, to give him an idea of what was happening. Please don’t let me be too late, he thought frantically. He took off again but more cautiously, following the tracks you had clearly also discovered. Probably what had led you right into something…

Rick and the others were well into the trees now but Shane stopped everyone. “Rick, what the hell are we doin’ man? We don’t have a clue where Y/N and Daryl are. We can’t just go blindly crashing through here or we’re gonna end up in a bad spot too.”

Rick’s eyes frantically whirred over the seemingly endless tree trunks.

“Wait—I saw Y/N’s map yesterday. She had the whole thing sectioned out into search areas,” Glenn said. “Most of them were already crossed off.”

“Well, which ones weren’t?” Shane urged, checking to make sure there was a round chambered in his gun.

“Uhh—” Glenn’s mind raced. “I think—I think by that ridge, straight north of here. But I can’t be sure,” he trailed off.

Rick rubbed a hand over his face. They all listened for any sound, but the woods were oppressively silent now. “Shit…” he cursed under his breath.

“It’s the best we got,” T gasped, out of breath from the frenetic dash from camp.

Rick nodded. “Alright. Then we head north. Keep your heads on a swivel and your eyes peeled for any sign of Y/N or Daryl.”

Daryl moved as swiftly along the trail as he could. Suddenly, he spotted something lying on top of the litter out of the corner of his eye. Your pistol. Daryl grabbed it and the muzzle was still warm. Clearly, you’d been the one to fire at least some of those shots. “Fuck. Fuck…” He tucked it into his waistband and moved more cautiously now. His heart was pounding and sweat was pouring down his forehead. His knuckles were white on his crossbow. He rounded a downed tree and froze when he saw a dark shape on the ground ahead. His heart dropped into his stomach. Please don’t let it be Y/N… He was almost paralyzed with fear but he forced himself to take another couple steps. As he rounded the brush and straightened up, he knew it wasn’t you but his apprehension didn’t evaporate. It was a large man, clearly dead, completely covered in blood. The hair on the back of Daryl’s neck suddenly stood on end and he spun around, his crossbow up to his eye, ready to fire. But he dropped it involuntarily as he took in the scene before him, his jaw dropping partially open and his eyes narrowing as he tried to figure out what the fuck he was seeing.

You were standing there in front of him trembling from head to toe, your hands out in front of you with your knife clutched in one like it was a lifeline. Daryl could easily see the shakiness in your hands. You were completely covered in blood. Your clothing and skin were soaked in it, like you’d bathed in a crimson river. There was thick splatter on your face, neck, and chest. Your eyes were wide and fixed and you didn’t show any awareness that he was there in front of you. Daryl registered that your shirt was torn down from one shoulder and your bra strap had been cut. He didn’t need an explanation to know what the fuck had happened and rage swelled in his chest, stoking an intense fire. His eyes drifted down to two more bodies lying at your feet, each with uncountable stab wounds and one with his throat cut, his clothing drenched. The metallic smell of blood was in the air and Daryl could almost taste it on his tongue.

Still you showed no awareness that he was there. You seemed frozen, catatonic. He now registered that you had slash wounds through the fabric of your sleeves and cuts on your arms. Defensive wounds where you had blocked a knife attack. There was a purposeful cut partially up the hem of your jeans at the bottom, clearly from one of the men… It was nearly impossible to tell if you were hurt anywhere else because there was just so much blood…

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he murmured. “Y/N?” He took a cautious step toward you. “Y/N? Can ya hear me?”

Nothing. No reaction at all.

Just then Daryl heard the noise of several people in the woods nearby and he planted himself between you and the sound, raising his crossbow. “Ya better get the fuck outta here unless ya want an arrow between the eyes!” he roared.

Rick straightened up. That was Daryl. “Daryl?!”

Daryl gulped. “…Rick?”

“Yeah, it’s me, Shane, Glenn, and T! We’re comin’ to you! Are you alright?”

Daryl glanced back at you again. You were still just standing there shaking. “‘M fine. Wasn’t me who fired…” Daryl swung his pack off his back and dug inside it.

The men crashed through the underbrush and came into view, taking in the scene. “Oh my God.” The words spilled from Glenn’s lips. They were all glancing from the bloody bodies on the ground to your blood-soaked figure.

“Jesus Christ,” Shane uttered, pacing closer and bending to look at the slash wound in the one corpse’s neck. Daryl finally laid hands on his poncho and yanked it out of his bag. He turned to look at you and began approaching cautiously. “Y/N? It’s Daryl. Can ya hear me?”

Nothing.

Rick was slack-jawed as he looked at the scene. “Daryl… be careful,” he cautioned, eyeing the knife still gripped in your fist.

Daryl glanced back at him. “She ain’t gonna do nothin’ to me,” he drawled.

“Do you see this?” Glenn asked him urgently indicating the bodies. “This is insane. You don’t know that! She looks completely out of it, like she doesn’t even know we’re here!”

Daryl’s jaw clenched and he turned back to look at you again. “Don’t ya fuckin’ see her? She’s terrified. Look at her clothes. They were tryin’ to rape her,” he growled. “They deserve what they got.”

Shane straightened up from examining the bodies, glancing furtively over at you. “Maybe but… on the force, we’d call this ‘overkill’,” he said, backing up and exchanging a glance with Rick.

Daryl ignored him. “Y/N? It’s alright. You’re safe. Nobody is gonna hurt ya. Just lemme take your knife, okay?” There was no recognition on your face, your eyes still wide and fixed, until Daryl’s hand gently closed over yours and started to open your hand around the handle of your knife. He could feel you shaking beneath his fingers. “S’alright,” he said softly as your eyes landed on his face and then locked with his. Your brow drew down low, casting a shadow over the vaguely confused look on your face. As Daryl gently took your knife, he could see there was a very deep gash in your palm. It was bleeding heavily. He guessed it was either another defensive wound from you putting your hands up to stop one of the men’s knives or otherwise your hand, slick with blood, had slipped down onto your own blade when you’d been fighting them. “Glenn, get some gauze out of my pack and bring it over here,” he said. He spoke calmly and softly. He glanced back over at Glenn when he didn’t move from his slack-jawed frozen position. “Glenn. Gauze.” Glenn snapped himself out of it and went to Daryl’s bag. The archer gulped and draped his poncho over you, covering your ripped shirt. “S’alright,” he murmured again.

You didn’t take your eyes off his face. He wasn’t even sure if you realized the others were there. Glenn walked forward and handed Daryl the small roll of sterile gauze before backing up slowly. The look in your eyes was haunted and dazed and it left all of them feeling empty and concerned.

Daryl opened your hand flat and your eyes drifted down to watch him wrap the bandage over the wound on your palm. You couldn’t feel it. You couldn’t really feel anything, except Daryl’s hands on yours.

Shane turned to Rick. “Rick, what the hell are we gonna do about this? We can’t just waltz her back into camp covered in blood. You don’t want the others seein’ this… Carl? Lori? Or Hershel. Look at her. She looks completely unstable. This might be enough for him to kick us out right now.” He looked back at you over his shoulder.

Rick sighed heavily. “So, we’ll get her cleaned up first.”

Daryl was keeping one ear on the conversation going on behind him. “She needs stitches on this hand,” he drawled. “And who knows how else she’s hurt. Can’t see a damn thing on her right now. And since ya’ll are more worried about yourselves than her, I’ll take care of it. Why don’t ya just get the hell outta here,” Daryl growled.

Glenn stepped forward. “We are worried about her. But you have to admit that this is—this is—” He didn’t even know what word to use. Daryl just stared at him. You were hugging your arms around yourself now, still shaking. Your eyes were downcast, staring unseeing at the ground.

“Listen, I don’t give a shit what ya do. I’m gettin’ her outta here and taken care of.” He hastily shouldered his pack and his crossbow.

“Just—Daryl,” Rick started, pinching the bridge of his nose, the situation weighing on him heavily. “Clean her up a bit before you take her to Hershel to be looked over.”

The archer eyed him through a narrow glare for a moment before he nodded. He turned back to you, your frame swallowed up in his poncho. “C’mon. Let’s get ya home,” he said gently. Your eyes snapped up to his face again and you allowed him to lead you back toward the farmstead.

He picked a path carefully and finally the two of you broke out from the edge of the forest. The others back in the camp were staring at the tree line, wracked with nerves. Lori straightened up as she recognized movement. “Dale—someone just stepped out.”

Dale, standing on the RV, raised his binoculars to his eyes. “Oh my,” slipped from his lips.

“What? Who is it?” Carol asked anxiously.

“I think it’s Y/N and Daryl,” Dale said. “I can’t quite tell properly, but I think something is wrong with Y/N.” He squinted into the binoculars again. “My God. Her jeans are covered in blood and it—it looks like there’s blood on her neck, her face…”

Carol pressed a hand over her mouth. “Is she hurt?” she asked anxiously. “Was she bit?”

Dale shook his head, lowering the binoculars again. “They’re too far. I can’t tell what’s going on.”

Daryl looked up to see everyone standing almost in a line watching the two of you as you started across the field. He gulped and then put a hand lightly on your back, nervous and unsure of how you would react to the contact. He guided you toward his camp which was closest and was set apart from everyone else’s.

“C’mon and sit down, alright. We’re just gonna clean ya up a bit and then take ya to Hershel.” The look in your eyes was worrying him immensely but you sat down on a round of wood pulled up near the fire ring. He anxiously chewed on his bottom lip, trying to figure out how he could reassure you. “Hey. S’alright. You’re safe.”

You met his blue eyes and he finally saw some sense of relief in them. His stomach flipped at the way they softened and he nodded. He took in the sight of you in his poncho again and realized you’d need something else to wear to go see Hershel that wasn’t half ripped off you. “I’m gonna, uhh—” he cleared his throat nervously. “I’ll put a clean shirt out on my cot for ya. Ya can change in in my tent and then we’ll just clean ya up a bit, alright?” He knew better than to wait for a response and climbed to his feet and disappeared into his tent to set the clothes out. He dug around in his duffel bag until he found one that was still folded tightly, definitely clean, and he set it out for you. You watched the handsome archer reemerge from inside his tent and nod his head toward it. “Alright. Go ahead. I’ll just be right out here.”

He watched you get up and disappear, zipping the door behind you. He paced in front of the fire circle, rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip thoughtfully as the image of you standing there in the woods, frozen, absolutely soaked in blood with your shirt half torn surged forward in his mind and he felt another sickening swell of anger. Jesus. Things could have gone so bad with those men… and they were fucking lucky they were already dead when he got there.

The soft rustling of the tent fabric interrupted his thoughts and you stepped out in his long-sleeved flannel, looking a bit dazed still but more grounded. He nudged his nose up in a nod. “C’mon and sit down,” he said, gesturing to the round of wood again. You sank down on it. Daryl grabbed a bucket of clean water that had been warming in the sun all day. He grabbed a cloth from inside his tent and caught sight of your bloody and torn shirt discarded on the floor, feeling another tight twist between his lungs, like someone had tugged a knot there.

You watched him kneel down in front of you and sink the cloth into the bucket of water, wringing it out before bringing it close to your face. He hesitated short of touching you. “S’this alright?” he drawled.

You gave him a questioning look but finally nodded, just one slight tip of your chin. You closed your eyes as the fabric came in contact with your cheek and Daryl started wiping away the blood. The cloth stained crimson quickly. He cleaned the splatters from across your forehead and your nose and the spots on the other side of your face. With the red stains gone, Daryl could see the shadow of a deep bruise along the side of your jaw. Without thinking he gently clasped your chin and turned your head so he could examine it, a heavy shadow falling over his blue eyes. He sunk the cloth back into the bucket of water and wrung it out again, this time pressing it to the side of your neck.

Despite how gentle he was being, you involuntarily sucked in a sharp hiss of air through your teeth as the cloth found the cut on the side of your neck from the leader’s knife. Your eyes blinked open through your wince.

“Sorry,” Daryl drawled, pulling back to look at the wound. “Jesus… Those assholes had a knife to your neck?” he asked. It was rhetorical and he didn’t expect an answer. He wiped at the blood spatter and you closed your eyes again, trying to breathe deeply and still the trembling you still felt wracking through you. Daryl could hear a shaky quality in your breathing. Soon, your face and neck were clean and Daryl turned his attention to your hands. Your eyes were still shut as he rinsed the cloth out again in the bucket. “Lemme see your hands,” he said softly. You found the deep gravel of his voice comforting.

Out of everyone in your group, you usually felt like Daryl was the only one who really saw you. You’d wanted to get to know him better, but held yourself back. He seemed to seek solitude like you did, and you didn’t want to force yourself into his world.

He took your hand, your palm resting against his, and he swept the cloth lightly over the back of it and down each finger. The sensation sent goosebumps rising on your skin and you glanced up at the concerned and intent expression on his face curiously. You couldn’t even remember the last time anyone had shown you so much attention and care. He took your other hand in his now, the one with gauze around it and the deep gash in your palm. He rubbed the blood from the back of each finger and then flipped it over in his hand. He frowned as he noticed that your blood had soaked through the bandage. “Probably need stitches on this one,” he murmured softly. The cloth tickled over the underside of each finger now, sweeping off the ends. “Alright. Push up them sleeves,” he said, dunking the cloth into the bucket again for what felt like the hundredth time.

“What?” He was startled by your voice and his eyes snapped up to look at you.

He straightened up, one of his eyebrows quirking down at the question. “Ya had a buncha cuts on your arms. We need to clean ‘em up and check ‘em. See if ya need stitches anywhere else.”

You shook your head.

He gave you a questioning look for a long moment and chewed on his bottom lip. “Alright. Ya can do it. I’ll just go tell Hershel you’re on your way in, alright?”

You stared at him for another long moment as he set the cloth on the edge of the bucket, whose water was now stained a dark pink. You glanced up as he climbed to his feet and nodded.

“Alright,” he said. “C’mon up when you’re done and we’ll get that hand taken care of.”

Daryl started over toward the farmhouse and as he approached Carol rushed up to him. “What happened?” she urged him. “Are you okay? Is Y/N?”

He stopped, his hand on one hip. He glanced back out toward the trees and saw the rest of the group making their way back toward camp across the field. “‘M fine,” he drawled. “Y/N ran into some men out there when we were searchin’.”

“Men? What men? What happened? Is she alright?”

Daryl chewed his bottom lip and shrugged vaguely. “I don’t know how to—how to answer that,” he said truthfully.

Confusion muddled Carol’s expression and she glanced in the direction of you over at Daryl’s camp. “Well, what happened?” she asked again.

Daryl looked at her seriously and shrugged vaguely. “Y/N killed ‘em. Didn’t have no choice.” He continued his path up to the house and bounded up the porch steps, knocking on the front door. Carol stared after him, a bit shocked. Maggie answered, looking worried.

“Were those gun shots earlier?” she asked.

Daryl nodded. “Mhm… Hey, can your dad take a look at Y/N?”

“Of course. What happened?” she asked, holding the screen door open so he could step inside.

Hershel was there in an instant. “Daryl. What happened? We heard those shots.”

“Y/N and I were out lookin’ for Sophia. There were some men. She—she ran into some trouble.”

Hershel took a deep breath and nodded. “Is she alright?”

“I think she needs stitches in her hand. She took a good hit to her jaw too. Might have a concussion. I dunno,” he said. He anxiously chewed on his bottom lip again. “I know she’s got some cuts on her arms, defensive wounds, but she wouldn’t let me look at ‘em. Got a cut on her neck.”

“Oh my God,” Maggie said, her hand flying up to her mouth.

“What happened to the men?” Hershel asked.

Daryl quit chewing the side of his thumbnail. “Dead,” he said, watching the old farmer’s reaction closely, but the man’s face was blank. He simply nodded.

“I’ll get my kit. Have her come on in.”

Daryl headed back onto the porch to see how you were doing and you were on your way over. His eyes caught on the dark splatters and stains of blood on your jeans and the slit at the bottom. His stomach twisted. Maybe he should have had you change clothes completely… You were trying to ignore the eyes on you as you made your way over to the house.

Andrea and Lori exchanged a look at the state of your clothes.

“Come on in here and sit down,” Hershel said kindly. “Let’s take a look at that hand.” You offered up your gauze-wrapped hand and Hershel laid it out on the table, unwrapping the already blood-soaked bandage and taking a look at the deep gash. “Pretty deep cut here. Definitely need stitches.” He grabbed a needle from his kit and pricked the end of each of your fingers. They all twitched in response. “You can feel that?” You nodded. “Good. Looks like we dodged any nerve damage. Much deeper and you would have needed major surgery for a cut tendon and who knows what else. Maggie, dear, would you get the sutures set up while I clean this off?”

Nerve damage. Cut tendon. Daryl shifted uncomfortably in his spot leaned up against the wall. You hardly seemed to react to the news at all.

Hershel swabbed at your hand and you shut your eyes against the bite of the alcohol. “Now, Daryl tells me you took a good hit to the jaw. I’m just gonna check it and make sure nothing is broken.” He palpated both sides of your face, across your cheekbones and up your jawline. “Just a bit swollen,” he said. “Did you lose sight when you were hit?” he asked you, grabbing a small pen light and checking the dilation response of each of your pupils. You gulped and nodded. “Do you remember your name?” he asked you. You nodded again. “I need you to answer my questions verbally. I’m interested in your answers but also your speech.”

“My name’s Y/N.”

“When is your birthday?” Hershel asked.

You stared at him. “No one here knows my birthday. How will you know if I’m right or not?”

A small smile grew on Hershel’s face. “I’d say your speech and cognition are fine. Probably a mild concussion though with your eyesight blacking out. You’ll need to take it easy the next few days, rest and fluids, and let me know if you develop any new symptoms like vomiting or nausea, confusion, a worsening headache. Understand?”

You nodded again. “Yes. I understand.”

“Sutures are ready,” Maggie said.

Hershel put on a pair of clean gloves and prepared. “I’m afraid I don’t have anything to numb you,” he said, propping your hand up on a towel so he could see it better.

“It’s alright. I would have told you to save it anyway,” you said. Daryl straightened up from his place against the wall and came to stand next to you. You could feel his eyes on your face.

“You’re one tough cookie,” Hershel said. “Let’s get this taken care of.” You hardly flinched as he passed the needle through…

Outside, Rick and the others were just arriving back at camp. Everyone gathered around and seemed to read on their faces that they were all unsettled.

“Rick,” Lori said, grabbing him into a hug. “What happened? We saw Daryl and Y/N come back. Her jeans were covered in blood.”

Rick looked down at her. “Nothing to worry about. It’s been taken care of.”

“Well, what was it?” Lori pressed him, her eyes still a bit wide and fearful.

Carol spoke up. “Daryl said she ran into some men and they’re—she killed them.”

Glenn and T were avoiding everyone’s eyes while Shane let out a frustrated sigh and paced away from the group, disagreeing with Rick still about the decision not to tell everyone you had clearly gone slasher on those assholes. Provoked or justified or not, Shane felt like that was something everyone should know. He’d gone far enough to describe you as a serial killer before Rick had stood him down. Rick nodded and looked at his wife and then at Andrea and Dale. “Y/N was attacked and she dealt with it. Hershel is gonna patch her up and there’s nothing to worry about.

“What if there are more of those men?” Carol asked fearfully.

“We only ever saw three different boot prints out there,” T reassured her. “But we’ll keep watch like we always do. We’ll be fine.”

Everyone still looked uneasy, but settled back into their tasks. Lori was about to go fetch some more water when Shane grabbed her arm and tugged her around the side of the SUV. She gave him a stern look and pulled her arm from his grasp.

“What?” she snapped at him, a bit unkindly.

“Rick ain’t tellin’ you everythin’,” he said.

Lori just stared Shane with a guarded expression. “I trust my husband. And you used to, too.”

“Yeah, well… What happened out there today? It should concern everyone.” His expression was dark and Lori felt her sense of unease grow.

Shane rubbed a hand over the stubble on his face. “Y/N just—” Shane let out a sigh that had the edge of a growl to it.

“What are you talking about?” Lori pressed him in an undertone. “Are we in danger?”

Shane straightened up and pressed his lips into a thin line briefly before meeting her eyes. “Honestly? I don’t know. But I’m not taking my eyes off that girl.”

Inside, Hershel tied off the final stitch and snipped the suture. “All done.” He applied a layer of antibacterial ointment and wrapped your hand in a fresh dressing. “Try to keep it dry. And I mean it,” he gave you a pointed look, “take it easy for a few days. Daryl, you hold her to that. Anything else you need me to look at? Your arms? Daryl said—” You shook your head no. “Alright.”

The archer straightened up as you climbed to your feet. “Thank you,” you murmured to Hershel.

Daryl held the door for you and you cringed at how everyone’s eyes were on you immediately as you stepped out onto the porch. You avoided them and started heading in the direction of your camp. Daryl was still in step beside you and you hazarded a glance in his direction.

He could read a question in your eyes. “I’ll keep ya company for a bit if that’s alright... Besides, ya should be restin’ and somebody needs to make sure ya take care of yourself.” You didn’t say anything, but that also wasn’t a refusal. Daryl could tell you were still reeling a bit, and he wanted to be there just in case.

You arrived at your separate camp area and watched as Daryl immediately went and stirred up the coals in the fire, adding more wood and soon having a nice blaze going. You headed for your tent and glanced back over your shoulder at him. “Just gonna change,” you said softly. He nodded and went about heating something for you to eat along with water for tea. He was sure you had collected more ingredients and remembered that your bag was still sitting at his camp. He jogged to grab it and brought it back along with your bloodied and torn shirt, not sure what else to do with it. When he got back, you were sitting by the fire in clean and comfortable clothes, his shirt resting over your lap. You held it out to him as he dropped your pack beside you.

“Thanks,” he murmured. The fabric was still warm from your body. “Dunno what ya wanna do with this,” he said, holding yours out in turn.

You stared at it for a long moment before your fingers closed on it and Daryl watched as you immediately tossed it into the fire. In a moment, it was only ashes and embers. He sank down beside you and felt you studying him. He turned and met your eyes and was surprised when you spoke. “You aren’t afraid of me now? Like the others?” you asked softly.

“Nah. Why would I be?”

Your striking eyes focused back on the crackling campfire and the embers dancing upward on the warm torrent of air. “You saw what I did. Why wouldn’t you be?”

Daryl peered at you curiously for a long moment. “Ya were only protectin’ yourself. Can’t say I wouldn’t have done worse if I’d been there,” he drawled, and you could hear anger in the tension in his voice.

“I blacked out,” you said suddenly.

“When they hit ya? Ya, yer gonna have a good bruise tomorrow.”

“That’s not what I mean.” You cradled your injured hand absently in the other. “The last thing I remember was the one starting to cut my jeans and then—then I was just covered in blood and they were all dead. And next thing I know you were taking my knife from me.” You shut your eyes for a moment. “I don’t remember anything else.”

Daryl considered the regretful expression on your face. “Don’t matter. Yer safe. That’s what counts. Those men? They had it comin’.”

You looked up at him in surprise and he simply nodded and then grabbed a mug and filled it with hot water for you. You accepted it and dug into your bag, pulling out the small sack of foraged herbs from the day. You dropped a few berries and leaves into your mug and cradled it with your uninjured hand.

It was nearly sunset and the quality of the light was cooling, oranges turning to reds and then fading into deep purples and inky blues. You allowed yourself to frequently study the archer as he shoved a bowl of reheated stew into your hands or added more wood to the fire. You felt surprisingly at ease with him there and he didn’t seem at all bothered by the passing of so much silence. Maybe the concussion just had you slightly numb, but you didn’t think so.

“You aren’t going to ask me?” you finally said.

Daryl looked over at you and he felt a stirring in his chest at the way the firelight was catching the shine and colors in your hair and the soft shape of your lips. “Ask ya what?”

“How I—Why I—” You didn’t even know how to phrase it really.

Daryl watched you struggled for a moment. “Ain’t none of my business. But if ya wanted to talk about it, I’ll listen. Not gonna lie and say I haven’t wondered about what came before ya were with the group.”

You had been on the verge of speaking it but suddenly lost your nerve and sipped at your tea again. Daryl watched you withdrawing again and rubbed a hand a bit nervously over the back of his neck. Darkness had fallen completely now. “Well, I’ll leave ya alone. Yer probably sick of me anyway,” he drawled. “Get some rest, alright?” Daryl had climbed to his feet and started to head in the direction of his own tent but your voice froze him.

“It’s not that I want to be alone all the time…” Daryl could hear the crackling of the fire in the silence that followed. “It’s just that alone usually feels safer.”

He glanced back at you, turning partially. “Ya. I know the feelin’,” he said gently, pacing back.

You looked up at him and something about your expression, your wide eyes, went straight to his core. “Stay,” you said quietly. “Please.” You chewed on your bottom lip for a moment. “Being with you feels safer…” you admitted, timidly.

Daryl felt an ache in his chest and nodded. He grabbed a seat beside you again and puzzled over this unprecedented turn of events.

You seemed to come to some decision suddenly and looked over at him intensely. He caught your eyes briefly and then watched as you pushed up your right sleeve. At first all he saw were the knife cuts, crimson against your skin, but you turned your forearm toward him in the firelight. “This is what I didn’t want you to see,” you said. You gulped. You’d never told anyone, never shown anyone, literally never talked about what had happened to you since you got out. You’d vowed that you would just move on, but the longer you suffered in silence the worse it seemed to get, until you felt like it would consume you. And then today, with those men, you’d just completely lost it. It had triggered something, a memory or maybe more like a nightmare, and when you came to you were bathed in blood and didn’t even recognize yourself, couldn’t believe what you’d done. Enough was enough. Maybe if you spoke it, admitted it, dealt with it in some way… maybe it’d get easier.

Daryl stared at a scar on your forearm. It looked like a brand and the skin was still slightly pink, showing that it wasn’t that old. It was four numbers. 1048.

[ey8508]

Helm

Rumors and Secrets: Victor | 李泽言  

[ He always knew how to insert each screw where it should be. ]

Note:

R&S for this card (CG above)

Chapter SPOILERS up to Season 2: Chapter 14-17 (read at your own risk)

Contains 5 chapters

Translation isn’t 100% accurate (or include grammar errors)

Every part for LZ’s dialogue would be in “this setting”

Do not repost to any other site (reblog is fine)

Chapter 1 Page 1 -Caerus, there is an investigation task for you. - Target name? - Guozi is a newcomer who organized the audit. Her relevant information is in the attachment. - Once received, when do you want it? - Before next Wednesday. - with such little time, the salary has to be increased by 20%. After the dialogue on the screen was stagnant for a while, the other side only replied a word: OK. Page 2 Duan Junjie put down his phone and was about to continue to look at the acquisition contract in front of him when he was suddenly patted on the shoulder. The colleague smiled and asked him: "Lawyer Duan, our department is going to have a dinner on Sunday. Would you like to come together?" "Sorry, there is something on the weekend, I can't come." Duan Junjie shook his head. The man's face was a bit unpleased: "Last time you also said that when something happened, why didn't you stay active with everyone? Eating a meal is also a way of communicate feelings." Page 3 "Forget it, I have been in Huarui for so long, and I haven't seen lawyer Duan participate in the department team building!" The female colleague opposite Duan Junjie smiled and replied, "I would rather offend the high-level staff and never work overtime. You still want to occupy his weekend, don't even think about it." The colleague left angrily, but Duan Junjie kept his head buried in work without commenting on the evaluation of him by the people around him. At exactly six o'clock, he sent the compiled attachments of the acquisition contract to the mailbox of the president's office, ready to pack his things and get off work, when the computer suddenly received a notification. Page 4 Is President Li so optimistic about the contract?  Although he knows that the person in charge of the Huarui Group is extremely efficient, the time limit is too ridiculous.  He clicked on the message and found that it was an anonymous email with a bunch of garbled characters. Duan Junjie frowned. This string of garbled codes was in disorder, but he soon discovered that it was an e-mail with two layers of special encryption, and the secret key was only available to members of BLACK SWAN.  After deciphering the garbled code, he found that it was a sentence and a "S" symbol with a thicker style at the end. Come to the conference room of BLACK SWAN headquarters. Page 5 Duan Junjie read this sentence silently, and frowned. The other party does not use the B.S. communication channel, but uses an anonymous IP to send it. Obviously, it wants to bypass the surveillance of some people in the organization. After the establishment of the BS board of directors, the original Twelve members did not easily surrender to the BOSS. They were secretly engaged in a few small actions, although Duan Junjie is just a crew responsible for intelligence, because of the nature of the work, someone from Twelve has either hinted or tempted him, They secretly made a few small moves. Although Duan Junjie was just a screw responsible for intelligence, because of the nature of the work, there was also TW elve.  Duan Junjie refused either by suggesting or tempting him but Duan Junjie refused. And now... Duan Junjie looked at this email and realized something vaguely. Page 6 He glanced at the time, and now he is leaving to meet the sender of the email. It should be too late to get home at eight o'clock and cook cat food for Amo. Although he was mentally prepared, when he opened the door and saw the man sitting across the long table, Duan Junjie still couldn't help but blurt out: "Mr. Li" The man opposite the long table did not erect the barrier to cover his face. He wore a suit with a straight back and a calm expression, no different from sitting in the office of the president of Huarui Building. Duan Junjie paused, then changed his words, "BOSS." Page 7 Li Zeyan pushed the document in front of him, "I know that your superior has just sent you a task, push that task, and do this first". "Push it." Duan Junjie took the file, "Does it mean that I don't have to keep in contact with him again?" Li Zeyan did not speak. His silence indicates his answer. Duan Junjie fixed his glasses and read the document roughly: "When do you want it?" "Before next Wednesday. Is it difficult?" Page 8 "It's not difficult, but it will take up a lot of my rest time. And I see that this part of the document is just a lead, and the things that need to be explore later are much larger than these papers." He emphasized, "This will be a long work, BOSS." "State your salary expectations." Duan Junjie seriously considered his mortgage and car loan: "Fourteen salary." "Sixteen salary." Li Zeyan looked at him directly, "correspondingly, you have to get back information worth this value." Chapter 2 Page 1 Duan Junjie’s life is very regular. He gets up at 8 in the morning and makes a cat meal for Amo. Then he takes the subway that arrives at 8:27, leaves the station at 8:47, and walks for five minutes to Huarui building, go to the cafeteria to get an egg, two buns, and a cup of soy milk. Sometimes, according to the mood of the day, he changes it to milk, and make sure to turn on the computer at nine o'clock and start working. He is just a screw built in the Huarui Group, as long as he is firm and wedged in where he should be on time everything should be fine. It’s just that there are accidents occasionally in a regular life, such as today. Page 2 At 8:51, when Duan Junjie was about to walk to the door of Huarui building, his footsteps suddenly stopped because a fallen leaf was hanging in front of him for five seconds. An Evolver has used their ability. Duan Junjie quickly reacted. He looked around, cars, pedestrians, even the giant screen advertisements that flickered forever in the distance stopped. In the world of silence, the sound of leather shoes stepping on the ground seemed so clear. Page 3 Duan Junjie saw Li Zeyan appear from the other end of the intersection, walked calmly to the middle of the road, came straight to a car and bent down.  When he got up again, there was a tabby cat in his arms. When Li Zeyan hold the cat and stepped onto the sidewalk, time began to flow again.  The noise reappeared in the city in an instant, the cars and the crowd were intertwined, and no one noticed the small change just now. Li Zeyan stepped forward, suddenly as if he noticed, that he turned his head to look at Duan Junjie not far away. "Mr. Li." Duan Junjie greeted him and walked over. Page 4 Li Zeyan nodded, took the cat to a safe place and put it down.  The little cat was shocked and still seemed to be reluctant to leave Li Zeyan. After stepping on Li Zeyan's hand back and forth, it turned around and jumped into the bushes of flowers. Duan Junjie looked at the back of the cat, and inexplicably thought of his own Amo: "It has a labelled ear and it is a sterile cat." "The cats in this area have been neutered." Li Zeyan replied. These two sentences have no beginning and end, but the atmosphere is calm. Duan Junjie continued: "I didn't expect you to be a cat lover." Page 5 Knowing that all the cats in this area have been neutered and willing to use EVOL to save a cat, it really does not fit Duan Junjie’s impression of Li Zeyan. "It's just a matter of effort." Li Zeyan took off the cat's fur on his cuffs. "If it is not careful, it will not be saved every time." As soon as the voice fell, a thin mist gathered in Li Zeyan's always firm eyes, and his expression became a little dumbfounded as if something had touched his mind. Page 6 Duan Junjie saw Li Zeyan with this expression for the first time, but he intuitively felt that he shouldn't ask more. So he took a step back, "Then I will go first, and the yesterday's document will be sent to you before a quarter past ten in the morning." At 8:57, Duan Junjie arrived at the Huarui cafeteria. Today he bought one less egg because he wants to save time and punch in on time.

Chapter 3 Page 1 Whether as Caerus or Lawyer Duan, he has been very busy this time.  Huarui's acquisition plan has advanced to a critical stage, and the investigation of the "small syringe" has also fallen into a bottleneck. Even Duan Junjie, who has no commercial sense, knows that this kind of medicine that can enhance Evol can create huge benefits that can change the world.  He once suspected that Li Zeyan’s reason for being particularly concerned about "small syringes" was the instinct of capitalists to seek profit, but if they were chasing profits, they should put this unstable pharmaceutical package on the market as soon as possible, instead of letting him investigate  The "black hand" behind the shadow of the "Syringe" incident. "Lawyer Duan, we'll be going first." Page 2 "Okay, bye." Colleagues picked up their bags and said goodbye to him. When they walked to the door, they could still hear a faint sentence floating over there: "Lawyer Duan also works overtime. It's really rare." The sky gradually darkened, and the neon lights of the city outside the floor-to-ceiling windows lit up for the first time.  Duan Junjie was the only one left in the huge office. No breathing could be heard in the silent environment, only the monotonous keyboard percussion sounded in the ups and downs! A sharp alarm interrupted Duan Junjie's work. He quickly opened the alarm interface and found that the source of the alarm was actually for Li Zeyan's office of the president! Page 3 "The sound pulse in the office fluctuates abnormally" Duan Junjie whispered while looking at the screen, "someone went there?" It’s not surprising that Li Zeyan would be watched. Duan Junjie was surprised that someone dared to do something in Li Zeyan’s office. He immediately sent an encrypted signal to Li Zeyan to get the other party out of the office immediately. However, after a long time, Li Zeyan on the camera  still motionless.  Immediately he saw a girl pushing open the door of the office, still holding some documents in her hand. The boss of Huarui Investment’s gazed at the film and television company, also a member of BLACK SWAN, Miss NOX. "That's it, there wasn't anything major?" Page 4 Seeing this scene, Duan Junjie breathed a sigh of relief.  It also reflects that the time for NOX to report on official business is the anti-tracking time given to him by Li Zeyan, and he must be worthy of the sixteen salary that Li Zeyan gave him. An hour later, Duan Junjie stood in front of Li Zeyan's office and knocked on the door three times. "Come in" Duan Junjie walked in, first closed the door carefully, and operated the small anti-eavesdropping device in his hand a few times and installed it on the door.  Then he turned around and said straightforwardly: "Boss, it's done." Page 5 "Tell me." "The source of the eavesdropping was traced to a tea room in Xicheng District. This is the background check of the tea room owner and the personnel he has been in close contact with recently." Duan Junjie operated a few times on his mobile phone, and the corresponding intelligence content popped up on Li Zeyan's computer.  , "A few people have contact with the small syringe".  The person who installed the eavesdropping has also been found. It was the cleaner who cleaned your office yesterday. According to the monitoring comparison, they were not from Huarui, but they should have sent someone in disguise.  People have been arranged to go to the Dingsha Tea Room, and they can act at any time. Page 6 "Understood" Li Zeyan's tone was always faint, his expression calm, it was not like he had experienced a tense eavesdropping crisis one after another, or for this man, he had experienced countless things. Things that are unimaginable even by Duan Junjie's thoughts. More dangerous than this, more knife-pointed. The scene of life and death on the front line. He scanned the page for a few times, pressed the button, and said: "Go to the next stage." Page 7 The meaning of entering the next stage is that he does not need to care about how those eavesdroppers will be dealt with.  Duan Junjie nodded knowingly: "I understand." Li Zeyan's gaze cast through the floor-to-ceiling windows, to the distant ground, as if he was talking to Duan Junjie, or he was saying to the invisible opponent: "The line has been laid long enough." Page 8 Duan Junjie lowered his head: "I will continue to report to you if there is a new situation." He turned to leave the office, and suddenly wrinkled his nose before leaving. A faintly sweet smell that he did not know where it came from, on the tip of his nose, it was like the caramel scent he would smell when he passed the dessert shop downstairs. This type of scent should not appear in Li Zeyan's office. It might be an illusion, Duan Junjie thought.

Chapter 4 Page 1 Unknowingly, it was the end of the year again. At this time, the center of the topic in the tea room of my colleagues will be more and more to rely on a lottery draw in the main link of the Huarui annual meeting. "Last year based on the report someone in the department next door got paid for a month of paid travel and wine!" "I want to pick a camera. Maybe the equipment is configured, and my photography skills will also improve." "Lawyer Duan, what prize do you want to win?" "The Sunshine Award." Duan Junjie replied. Everyone went silent. Page 2 Duan Junjie thinks this topic is meaningless, and he doesn't think he has the luck to win a lottery. Excessive surprises are often accompanied by huge risks. He is greedy for peace and stability, and does not want to give life too many twists and turns. It's better to go home and cook an extra meal for the cat when you have the time. Huarui’s annual meeting has always been very lively. In addition to the people at the headquarters, some cooperating companies will also come to socialize. The police, like the boss of the film and television company of the company, will not be absent every year. Page 3 After the last eavesdropping incident, probably out of affirmation of his work ability, Li Zeyan handed him more tasks. As a result, he came into contact with this woman who had an unusual relationship with the BOSS. Although he exchanged information online, the other party did not know his identity in reality. He glanced at the energetic girl, and then turned away, not intending to say hello to her as Huarui's lawyer. Page 4 What Duan Junjie didn't expect was that he won the second prize at this annual meeting. The moment his name appeared on the big screen, his colleagues seemed to be more excited than him. These guys who usually claim to be the elites of the law surrounded him laughing and making noise, and they said that they should be invited to share the joy, "You're from our department. Duan Junjie you finally won this year's prize! " Duan Junjie was so upset by them that he simply slipped out of the annual meeting with an excuse.  He had just gotten in the car and was about to start, and suddenly two figures flashed in the corner of his eyes who shouldn’t be there at this time. Page 5 Li Zeyan and NOX walked to the garage side by side, and the two seemed to be talking about something.  Duan Junjie thought it might not be an official business, because the girl’s face had the brilliant smile that she have on her age. She carried a bag of vegetables in one hand and gestured twice with the other. Li Zeyan’s eyebrows were still the same. It's cold, but there is a slight arc in the corner of his mouth, and if Duan Junjie is right, is this BS BOSS carrying a bag of cat litter in his hand? It's the same cat litter as Amo. Duan Junjie raised his eyebrows, he felt as if he had discovered something extraordinary. Page 6 So Duan Junjie asked questions unrelated to work for the first time in the work email when he went to work the next day. Why is the poster of the Huarui Annual Meeting is a Siamese? Li Zeyan quickly answered him. That is my cat, it is a Ragdoll. Chapter 5 Page 1 Affected by the public opinion of "Huarui's malicious acquisition of pharmaceutical companies", the atmosphere in the company has recently become much sluggish than before. The pantry is no longer full of laughter and gossip, but turned into quiet discussions and sighs. "When I went to drink coffee across the street today, the clerk saw my badge and said that he would not accept it. He won't even talk to me afterwards" "Hmph, he didn't accept it?, you should complain to him at that time, not only complain, but also wear a Huarui badge every day to buy as a Huarui employee, it is never a shame!" "Yes, I should do that" Page 2 Duan Junjie was stunned and stopped for a while, and the colleague in the pantry had already noticed him: "Lawyer Duan." Duan Junjie nodded at them and poured the remaining water from the glass into the sink.  A female colleague smiled and greeted: "Lawyer Duan, how is Amo at home?" "It's ok, Amo has not been losing weight recently." "By the way, we have recently established a Huarui cat-related group. Lawyer Duan are interested in joining?" a female colleague asked him with a smile, "Occasionally I can see President Li's cat too, Pudding!" "Thank you, I'll think about it." Page 3 After bidding farewell to his colleagues, Duan Junjie set off for the BS building. One or two minutes before, he sent a message from the special communication channel of B.S. saying that an emergency meeting would be held. Before coming to the meeting room, he habitually knocked on the door three times, and after getting permission from Li Zeyan, he walked in. "BOSS" "The next phase of the plan can start." "Understood, I will arrange manpower." Page 4 Li Zeyan ordered him to do the next thing as usual, until a silver-haired man suddenly broke in and interrupted Duan Junjie's bargaining over the length of overtime. The two talked in private. Before the silver-haired man glanced coldly on him, Duan Junjie turned around and left the meeting room. Only doing what should be done, not listening to what should not be heard, this is the work principle he has always believed in. Page 5 Duan Junjie feels that his current life is very good. Both Huarui and BLACK SWAN are huge and sophisticated machines, requiring countless from 'attorney Duan' and 'Caerus' as screws to maintain their operation. The man at the helm who directs the operation is Li Zeyan. Screws can get stuck occasionally and can be replaced, but Li Zeyan make no mistakes, let alone replace any mistakes, the consequences are fatal once it appears. Perhaps in terms of risk, following Li Zeyan is already the biggest gamble in Duan Junjie's life. Page 6 His chips were all bet on this man, and he inexplicably believed that Li Zeyan could win, not because of the gorgeous numbers in the Huarui annual report, nor because B.S. continued to grow these crowns and glamorous surfaces under his leadership. It is because the stray cat was rescued, the brand new "small syringe" industry chain, and the badge on the chest of a colleague. The reason lies in these small things. Duan Junjie turned on the phone and opened a chat window before starting the next stage of work. "What is the cat-related group number?"

[kwonhoshi0]

𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝

navigation | requests : open | 2nd march 2021

pairing : bakugou x fem!reader

genre : fluff, heavy angst

warnings : mutual pining, soulmate AU, !quirk world, heartbreak?, eating, vomit

themes : falling in love, unfair world, ‘it had to be us’, slow burns

desc : in a world where when you see your soulmate in their most vulnerable state your eyes change to the colour of the one you’re meant to be with, but sometimes soulmates aren’t allowed to be together, the way the universe was made is cruel it hurt.

a/n : i’m about to cause so much pain so i’m sorry in advance 🕴

listen to :

this world was cruel, that much was clear.

one couple in a thousand are fated to be apart, the thought didn’t scare you much since people in love always find a way, right?

when you touch your soulmates hands for the first time you feel a little spark, like electricity but for 1 couple out of 1000 they’d get thrown apart, quite literally thrown apart. they’d repel like the opposite ends of a magnet.

reading people’s experience on the matter broke your heart, people fated to be together only for their wishes to become nothing but that, wishes.

the same happened to your aunt and uncle, they’re together but apart, not allowed to touch eachother without being repelled apart. you watched it firsthand and it hurt seeing them live so happily apart in this unfair world.

your other uncle was no other then pro-hero all might, he raised you from the age of 3, your parents died when you were young, in a villain attack. they died fighting and their last wish was for you, their daughter to grow up a happy child in the care of your fathers brother, all might.

your uncle is an amazing guardian, he was nervous but he taught you everything he knows, your wish is to be a pro-hero exactly like him, exactly like your parents and that’s what he wanted for you as well even if there were dangers who was he to say no to your dream?

he trained you carefully, your quirk was powerful and sometimes hard to manage when not in control of your emotions, your quirk is telekinesis, you can lift yourself into the air with enough power and your hands stabilise the quirk, your nose bleeds when you start overusing it and you get lightheaded but with the help of all might you slowly got better at handling the power.

-> FIRST DAY OF UA

‘y/n you’re up next’ you walked up to where your class teacher aizawa was standing, steadying your feet a little you flicked the ball into the air only above your hand and then using your mind and hand you shot it up into the sky, everyone watched in amazement as you got the best score by barely trying. your eyes locked with a blondes, his eyes stood out, they glistened gold and crimson in the sun dancing in the light hitting his face but you looked away feeling your face heat up at his looks. ‘hey y/n right? you did amazing out there my names mina ashido!’ you smiled at her friendliness, ‘hi, you did pretty great too’.

-> HIM

as the months went on you caught yourself staring more and more at a certain blonde, sometimes you caught him staring back. it was no secret that you’re attractive anyone with eyes could see that, someone had recorded you trying to regain your breath during the sports festival and it went viral. when you caught him staring at you from across the table, you simply smirked at him before going back to talking to denki and mina.

at first you thought your attraction to him was only because of his looks, until you started getting to know the boy underneath. he’s caring, he’s thoughtful, he would never say it but he is. you noticed when he would do things for others, when you all moved into the dorms after the USJ attack you started to notice his small gestures to show he cares, they may not be big but you noticed.

in his eyes you are incredible, he often thought about your strength, physically and mentally. everyone thinks that you’re lucky because you got to learn from all might but they never thought about the circumstances in which you got there, your parents died but you still fought on. at first you were closed off, until you became friends with mina who introduced you to the bakusquad, you all clicked immediately. your sarcastic humour paired with their loud and bakugous equally sarcastic humour fit like a puzzle.

-> love birds

‘hey idiot, come here’, it was 8pm and the dekusquad had sneaked out to watch the sunset along the beach. you hopped down from the railing and traced it with the tip of your fingers before reaching him, ‘what is it blasty’, you looked at him, the crimson sky faded along with pink, the sun only illuminating the colour onto his face making him look beautiful he looks pretty , she looks pretty. if only you could hear eachothers thoughts.

‘look at them’ you looked down from the perch to see denki kicking water at kirishima and sero as mina threw wet sand balls at them both, you giggled at the sight, even her laugh is pretty he thought.

‘hey love birds!! get down here!’ the pink haired girl yelled.

‘SHUT UP PINKIE’ neither of you denied it, maybe because that’s what you wanted.

you all sneaked back into the dorms when it got dark, you clicked your phone ‘12am’ you whispered to your friends, thankfully no one snitched on you. the wooden floors creaked a little as you made your way to your room, you grabbed your towel and slipped off your clothes before slipping into the shower, once you got out you threw on a large hoodie which almost went down to your knees. ‘y/nn bakugou is being annoying can you help’ denki pouted making grabby hands at you. after agreeing you skipped downstairs to see the boy nagging over the dishes, smiling a little you walked over to him.

you started cleaning up the dishes he was nagging about as he made you all food since you were all hungry from the beach. ‘thanks’ you grinned hearing those words leave his mouth, even if they were quiet ‘what was that blasty?’ he glared at you ‘i will deck you’ you stifled a laugh at his words as your eyes connecting with his crimson ones for a second, both of your eyes widened looking into the others before you quickly went back to the task at hand.

he just has pretty eyes.. that’s it fuck, no i don’t like her, fuck.

———

falling in love with katsuki bakugou was not in your plans, but the way the blonde haired boy fussed about cleaning and things that you’d think he’d give no care to struck you. the way he’d pick a stray fluff or hair off kirishimas clothes but not tell him, the way he’d use his anger to mask him affection. it all endeared you, but why?

maybe it was the night you went to the beach, when he looked down at your friends messing around like it’d be the last time he’s seeing them, or the way he looked at you when you sneezed with a grin on his face,

‘why are you smiling at that’

‘you sounded like a fuckin cat’,

was it because of his eyes, his stupid pretty crimson eyes telling you to come closer, telling you to kiss him. — or the night he looked after you when you got drunk in the dorms, you had drunk a little too much and felt yourself feeling sick, before you knew it you’d ran upstairs to your bathroom and started vomiting into the toilet, he followed you and lifted your hair out of your face, ‘idiot take these’ he handed you some medicine for the pain in your head. — and he stayed with you that night so you wouldn’t be sick by yourself.

it’s been almost two years since you caught feelings for him. two years since you fell dangerously in love with the angry blonde boy.

———

today you were attacked by the league of villains while training and everything was okay, you were fighting alongside him, while you were fighting back to back you hadn’t noticed the villain to the side of you, he was aiming for bakugou, you did what you could in the moment and took the hit for him. you didn’t know what the persons quirk did but it didn’t seem to affect to you at all. ‘IDIOT GRAB MY HAND’ you quickly shook your head to get rid of the dizzy feeling taking place and grabbed his hand.

as soon as you defeated everyone you gathered near the front of the facility and that’s when you felt it. feelings from your past, the pain of having zero to very little memories of your parents, the pain of everyone but you knowing them, most of all the anger. you screamed crouching to the ground throwing your hands over your ears trying to get rid of the emotions they were overwhelming and painful. bakugou told aizawa that you got hit with a quirk but it didn’t do anything, he ran over as soon as he heard you scream.

‘y/n!, can you hear me.. fuck what’s happening’ you squeezed your eyes shut yelling out again as the stabbing feeling covered your body like needles, aizawa tried erasing the quirk but it was no use.

you gasped for air as the pain finally stopped and opened your eyes, ‘FUCK YOU SCARED ME SO FUCKING MUCH’ you smiled weakly as you realised he’s cradling you, — your eyes change colour when you see your soulmate in their most vulnerable state — ‘wait what is-’ you looked up at his words to see his crimson eyes replaced by your [c] ones, your own eyes now crimson, in only 5 seconds his eyes turned back to crimson as yours turned back to [c].

‘bakugou’ you were afraid to look at his expression, he tilted your head up and he smiled at you ‘i’m glad it’s you, i’m so fuckin glad it’s you’ you beamed at him as tears welled up in the base of your eyes.

that night you were planning on going on a date together, just you and him. mina and denki were sat on your bed crying and screaming about what happened, ‘ugh the way you looked at eachother makes me want a relationship!!’ she sobbed as her lips formed a pout, you laughed at her antics as denki did your eyeliner for you. ‘is this okay?’ you went for very ‘you’ clothes and you were pretty satisifed with your outfit, smiling you turned to them. ‘now this isn’t fair how do you look good in everything’ you scoffed before booping the pink girl.

you had butterflies in your stomach before even meeting him, the way he made you feel nervous but ecstatic. ‘hey’ you turned at the voice, smiling when you noticed you accidentally matched, you wore a black jumper with a skull on it as he wore his black skull t-shirt. you both noticed this and smiled.

‘gonna keep staring at me dumbass, come on?’

you walked after him smiling at his eagerness, ‘where are we going blasty’ he quickly looked up at the stars before saying ‘to see some memories’. after 10 minutes of walking you noticed the beach, it was the same one you came to with your friends, the one where you watched the sunset together, when you were oblivious to the others feelings. you talked and laughed about how oblivious you both were,

‘i kinda knew it was you, i think, i don’t know it’s fuckin weird.. i saw you and i just, knew?’

your heart did backflips at his words, ‘when i first saw you, at the first day of UA, you caught my eye maybe it was the pretty red eyes or the angry face-’

‘I DONT HAVE AN ANGRY FACE’ even his anger made you fall for him.

you’re down bad, you both are.

after your walk along the beach you talked more and walked until you realise it had been hours and you should be getting back to the dorms, somehow this entire time you hadn’t touched hands, it’s not that you didn’t want to you were just so immersed in talking to him it felt like you could talk to him forever.

as you got back to the dorms you stood outside the door and edged closer to him, his eyes sparkled just like they did that day, he entwined his hands with yours.

but instead of feeling the spark you felt a jolt, like a pain and you both pushed apart like magnets.

‘wait.. What, no this isn’t happening i held you this morning, what fucking changed’ he looked at you hurt and in shock, you couldnt breath, it was happening, the one you love but never be able to touch.

‘y/n, don’t fucking cry i’m here, i’m still here’.

‘but you’re not, it’s like we have an invisible box around each other you’ll never be able to hold me, or kiss me’ it was like you couldn’t feel anything but you felt everything at the same time.

‘there’s gotta be a reason, i held you fucking hours ago y/n, maybe it’s that fuckers quirk’

‘bakugou this is what happened to my aunt and uncle, they were fine for the first couple hours until i-it happened’

‘you deserve someone you can hold’

‘but i want you, you’re my fucking soulmate don’t be stupid’

‘you cant even fucking touch me bakugou’

‘call me blasty again.’

‘what?’

‘please’

his eyes were filling with tears, threatening to spill.

‘bakugou, i’m sorry, i love you’

‘then we’ll make this work’

‘we can’t blasty, you know we can’t’

A/N :

🕴i am very sorry for the pain i have caused i made myself cry

taglist :

@todoroki-shoto-is-life @blazedbakugou @luluwiie @blue-gold-demigod-clouds @gazelle-des-pres

[haru-luo]

[CN Translation] Victor’s S2 Chapters 14-17 R&S <Steerer>(掌舵者)

!Spoiler warning! : The followings contain contents for future chapters of MLQC/Love and Producer. If you do not wish to be spoiled then please refrain from going undercut.

This is the karma that accompanies the following Rumors and Secrets. I suggest you to read S2 Summary(Volume 2:Ch 2-3), a bullet-point summary recently translated by amazing @cheri-translates​ to get more idea on what this “Small Syringe” thing is going on.

The translation is undercut. You have been warned about spoilers.

If you see “--” sign then it simply indicates the beginning of next page.

{STEERER} 

He always knew how to embed each screw in its place.

[Chapter 1]

“Caerus, there is an investigation task for you."

"Target name?"

"MC. She is a newcomer who organized the audit. All the information needed about her is in the attachment."

"Received. When do you want it?"

"Before next Wednesday."

"This task is a bit different. My pay has to increase by 20%"

After that, the dialogue between the two was stagnant for a while before the other side only replied a small word; "okay" --- Duan JunJie put down his phone and was about to continue to look at the acquisition contract in front of him when he was suddenly patted on the shoulder.

The colleague smiled and asked him, "Lawyer Duan, our department is going to have a dinner together on Sunday. Would you like to join us?"

"Ah, sorry, I have plans on the weekend so, I can't join." Duan JunJie shook his head.

The person's face turned a bit upset, "Last time, you also said that something happened and left. Why don't you stay with everyone for once? It's a pity because eating a meal together is also a way of communicating feelings."

"Forget it, I've been in LFG for so long and I've never seen Lawyer Duan participate in any department team building activities!" The female colleague opposite to Duan JunJie smiled and replied, "People would rather offend a high-level staff than work overtime all the time. If you still hope to take his weekend then give up, don't even think about it."

The two female colleagues left while groaning in complaint and Duan JunJie remained silent and quietly observed those around him before continuing to work again.

At six o'clock, he sent the compiled attachments of the acquistion contact to the mailbox of the CEO's office. He was ready to pack his things and get off work when the computer suddenly made a loud noise. -- CEO Li replied about the contract so soon? Although he knows that the person in charge of LFG Group is an extremely efficient boss, the speed is too ridiculous. He clicked on the message and found out that it was an anonymous email with a string of jumbled up characters.

Duan JunJie frowned.

The string of jumbled codes seemed disorderly but he soon discovered that it was an e-mail with two layers of special encryption and the secret key was only available to members of BLACK SWAN. After deciphering the garbled codes, he found that it was a sentence and a "S" symbol with a tick at the end.

'Come to the conference room of BLACK SWAN headquarters.'

Duan JunJie read this sentence silently and raised his eyebrow. The sender did not use the B.S communication channel but used an anonymous IP address to send it. Obviously, it has to bypass the surveillance of some people in the organization.

After the establishment of the B.S board of directors, the original TWELVE members did not easily surrender to the BOSS. They secretly made a few small moves. Although Duan JunJie was just a screw responsible for intelligence because of the nature of the work, someone from TWELVE has tried to lure or tempt him but Duan JunJie refused.

And now...

Duan JunJie looked at this email and realized something vaguely. -- He glanced at the time and now he is leaving to meet the sender of the email. It would be too late by the time he gets home to make cat food for Amo. Although he was mentally prepared, when he opened the door and saw the person sitting on the opposite side of the long table, Duan JunJie still couldn't help but blurt out, "Mr. Li."

The man opposite the long table did not erect against the barrier to cover his face. He wore a suit with a straight back and a calm expression. No different from when was sitting in the office of LFG Building as the CEO. Duan JunJie paused, then changed his words, "Oh, BOSS." -- Victor pushed the document in front of him, "I know that your senior just sent you a task. Push away that task and do this instead."

"Push away..." Duan JunJie accepted the document, "Does this mean I don't have to connect with him again in the future?"

Victor did not speak. And not speaking is his answer.

Duan JunJie adjusted his glasses and scanned the document in his hands. "...When do you want it?"

"Before next Wednesday. Is it possible?"

"It's not that it's impossible but this will take up a lot of my rest time and I see this part of document is just a lead. The things that need to be explored later are much larger than these papers." He emphasized, "This will be a long work, BOSS."

"State your salary expectations."

Duan JunJie seriously considered his mortgage and car goods, "14th salary."

"16 salaries." Victor looked at him directly, "However, you have to get me the information worthy of this value I offer you."

[T/N : Just in case, ‘14th salary’ means the payment of an additional month's salary or a form of compensation ^^]

[Chapter 2]

Duan JunJie's life is very regular. He wakes up at eight in the morning, makes a cat meal for Amo, then takes the subway that arrives at 8:27am, leaves station at 8:47am and walks for five minutes to LFG. Goes to cafeteria to get an egg, two buns and a cup of soy milk. Sometimes he changes to regular milk according to the mood of the day. He makes sure to turn on the computer at nine o'clock and start working.

He was just like a little screw in the LFG Group. As long as he makes sure that he is firm and fits where he should be on time, it’s fine.

It's just a regular life where accidents will occur occasionally, such as today. --- At 8:51am, when Duan JunJie was about to walk to the door of LFG Building, his footsteps suddenly stopped because a hanging leaf was in front of him, staying still for five seconds.

An Evolver has used their ability. Duan JunJie reacted quickly.

He looked around. Cars, Pedestrians and even the giant screen advertisements that were flashing in the distance have stopped. In the silent world, the sound of leather shoes against the ground seemed so clear. --- Duan JunJie saw Victor appear from the other end of the intersection, walking steadily towards the middle of the road, and went straight to the bridge of a car. He leaned down in front of the car and when he got up again, there was a tabby cat in his arms.

When Victor embraced the cat and stepped onto the sidewalk, time began to flow again. The noise reappeared in the city in an instant, the car and the crowd were intertwined again, no one seemed to notice what happened just now.

Victor stepped forward and suddenly, as if he noticed something, he turned his head to look at Duan JunJie not too far away.

"Mr. Li." Duan JunJie greeted him and walked over. --- Victor nodded in response, took the cat to a safe place and put it down. Little cat was shocked and still seemed to be reluctant to give up Victor. It walked back and forth, rubbing on to Victor's hand for a while before turning its head and leaping into the flowers.

Duan JunJie looked at the back of the tabby cat and inexplicably thought of his own Amo. "Its ears are labeled and looks like a neutered cat."

"The cats in this area all have been neutered." Victor replied.

These two sentences are not exactly settling but the atmosphere is relaxed. Duan JunJie continued, "I didn't expect you to be a cat lover too." -- It is known that the cats in this area have been neutered, but the fact that Victor used Evol to save a cat, didn't really fit Duan JunJie's impression of Victor.

"It was just a matter of hand." Victor took off the cat's fur on his cuffs. "It should watch itself, someone can't come to its rescue everytime."

As soon as the voice fell, Victor's always firm eyes turned into a purple mist. Something seemed to have touched his mind and his expression became a little dazed. -- Duan JunJie saw Victor with that kind of expression for the first time but he intuitively felt that he shouldn't ask more. So, he took a step back, "Then I will go in first and the yesterday's document will be sent to you before quarter past ten in the morning."

At 8:57, Duan JunJie arrived at the LFG canteen. Today he bought one less egg because he wants to save time and start work.

[Chapter 3]

Whether as Caerus or Duan Lawyer, he has been very busy this time. LFG's acquisition plan has advanced to a critical stage and the investigation of the "Small Syringe" has also fallen into the bottle.

Even Duan JunJie who has no commercial sense, knows that this kind of medicine that can enhance Evol can create huge benefits that can change the entire world. 

He once suspected that Victor's reason for being particularly concerned about “Small Syringes" was the instinct of capitalists to seek profit but if he really was chasing profits, he should've put this unstable medicine package on the market as soon as possible, instead of letting him investigate the "black hand" behind the shadow of the "Small Syringe Industry."

"Lawyer Duan, we'll head out first then." -- "Alright, bye."

The colleagues picked up their bags and said goodbye to him. When they walked to the door, he could still hear a faint sentence floating over to his ears, "Lawyer Duan is also working overtime. It's really rare..."

The sky gradually darkened and the neon lights of the city outside the floor-to-ceiling windows lit up for the first time in the night. Only Duan JunJie remained in the large office. In the silent environment, no breathing could be heard, only the monotonous keyboard percussion sounds in rugged manner.

-BEEP!

A sharp alarm interrupted Duan JunJie's work. He quickly opened the alarm interface and found that the source of the alarm was Victor's office. --- "The sound pulse from the office is fluctuating abnormally..." Duan JunJie watched the screen as he whispered, "...Someone is eavesdropping?"

It's not surprising that Victor will be exposed by some people. What surprised Duan JunJie is that someone dared to do something in Victor's office. He immediately sent an encrypted signal to Victor, asking the other party to come out of the office immediately. But even after a long time, Victor in the camera remained motionless. Not too long after, he saw a girl pushing to open the door of the office, still holding some documents in her hand.

She is the boss of [Miracle Entertainment or MC's company name], a film and television company invested by LFG and a member of BLACK SWAN, Miss NOX.

".....So that's it. You don't want to stun the snake, huh." --- Seeing this scene, Duan JunJie breathed a sigh of relief. It also reflects that the time for NOX to report on official business is the anti-tracking time given to him by Victor. He has to be worthy of the 16 salary that Victor offered to give him.

An hour later, Duan JunJie stood in front of Victor's office and knocked on the door three times.

"Come in."

Duan JunJie walked in, closed the door carefully and operated the small anti-eavesdropping device in his hand. He fidgeted it a few times and finally installed it on the door. Then he turned around and said straightforwardly, "BOSS, it's done." --- "Speak."

"The source of the eavesdropping was traced to the tea room in Xicheng District. This is the background check of the tea room owner and the personnel he has been in close contact with recently."

*[Note : Searched and found out that Xicheng District is an actual district in Beijing, China i.e popular for dining, restaurants and nightlife.]*

Duan JunJie operated the device a few times on his mobile phone and the corresponding intelligence content popped up on Victor's computer. "A few people had contact with the "Small Syringe". As for the person who installed the eaves dropping device, they have also been found. They are the cleaners who cleaned your office yesterday. According to monitoring and comparison, they are not really from LFG but they disguised as staffs to enter. People have been arranged to go to the town's tea room, they can act at any time." -- "Got it."

Victor's tone was always faint, his expression calm as if he had not experienced such tense eavesdropping crisis one after another or perhaps for this man, he had experienced countless even more dangerous situation that not even Duan JunJie can imagine. More knife-pointed, like the scene of life and death on the front line.

He scanned the page for a few moments, hit the button and said, "Move on to the next stage." -- But the meaning of entering the next stage does not mean that he does not need to care about how those eavesdroppers will be dealt with. Duan JunJie nodded knowingly, "Understood." Victor's gaze flew through the floor-to-ceiling long windows to the far ground, as if he was saying to Duan JunJie or as if he was saying to an invisible opponent, "The line has already been put for long enough." -- Duan JunJie lowered his head, "I will continue to report to you if there is a new situation."

He turned to leave the office but suddenly wrinkled his nose before leaving. A faintly sweet smell was floating on the tip of his nose which he doesn't know where it came from was like the caramel smell he would sense when he would pass the dessert shop downstairs the building.

This kind of sweet smell is not supposed to appear in Victor's office. It might be just an illusion, Duan JunJie thought.

[Chapter 4]

Without even realizing, it was the end of the year again. At this time, the center of the topic among the colleagues will be drawn more and more to the LFG annual meeting.

"Last year, someone in the department next door got paid for a month of paid travel along with wine reported!"

"I want to get a camera. Maybe also with an advanced equipment and so my photography skills will improve..."

"Lawyer Duan, what prize do you want to get?"

"The Sunshine award." Duan JunJie replied.

The atmosphere suddenly became silent. ---- Duan JunJie thinks this topic is meaningless and he doesn't think he has the luck to win a lottery either. Excessive luxurious prizes are often accompanied by huge risks. He is only greedy for peace and stability and does not want to have a life full of too many twists and turns.

It's better to go home and cook an extra meal for the cat when you finally have gotten time.

LFG's annual meeting has always been very lively. In addition to the people from the headquarters, some co-operating companies will also come to socialize. Backed up companies owners such as the boss of [MC's company name], MC will not be absent any year either. --- After the last eavesdropping incident, probably out of affirmation of his work ability, Victor handed him more tasks. As a result, he came into contact with this woman who had an unusual relationship with the BOSS. Although he exchanged the information online, the other party did not know his identity in reality.

He glanced at the energetic girl and then turned away, not planning to say 'hello' to her as LFG's lawyer, Duan JunJie. --- What Duan JunJie didn't expect was that he won the second prize at this annual meeting.

The moment his name appeared on the big screen, his colleagues seemed to be more excited than him. These guys who usually self-evaluate the law elites laughed and made noises while surrounding him and asked him to invite guests to share this joy.

"You are the King of our department this year, Lawyer Duan"

Duan JunJie was so annoyed by them that he simply made an excuse and slipped out of the annual party ahead of time. He had just gotten in the car and was about to start when suddenly two figures flashed in the corner of his eye that shouldn't have been there at this time. --- Victor and NOX walked to the garage side by side and the two seemed to be talking about something. Duan JunJie thought it might not be an official business because the girl's face had a brilliant smile that seemed appropriate to her young age. She carried a bag of vegetables in one hand and the other hand was making gestures from time to time. Victor's eyebrows were still sharp and cold but the corners of his mouth have a slight arc. And if Duan JunJie is right, is this the B.S BOSS carrying a bag of.....cat litter?

It's the same cat litter as Amo.

Duan JunJie raised his eyebrows. He felt as if he had discovered something extraordinary; something he shouldn't have witnessed. --- So, Duan JunJie asked questions unrelated to work for the first time in the work email the next day.

"Why does the poster of LFG annual meeting feature a Siamese cat?"

Victor quickly answered him.

"That is my cat. It is a mascot."

[Chapter 5]

Affected by the LFG's malicious acquisition of pharmaceutical companies from the outside world, recently, the atmosphere in the company is much more sluggish than it used to be. The laughter and gossips are no longer in the lounge, they have become quiet discussions and sighs.

"When I went to get a coffee across the street today, the clerk saw my staff badge and said that he would not accept me as a customer. I was really speechless..."

"Huh, if he didn't accept you then you should've complained to him and not only complain but also wear LFG badge everyday to buy the coffee. It is never a shame to be a LFG employee!"

"That's right!" -- Duan JunJie was stunned and stopped for a while but a colleague in the pantry had already noticed him. "Lawyer Duan!"

Duan JunJie nodded at them and poured the remaining water from the glass into the sink. A female colleague said with a smile, "How is Amo from Lawyer Duan's family?"

"He's okay, just losing weight recently."

"By the way, we recently established a 'LFG cat-lover group'. Does Lawyer Duan want to join?” The female colleague laughed at him and while asking him that.

 "Occasionally, We also see CEO Li's little pudding!"

"Oh, thank you. Let me think about it." --- After bidding farewell to his colleagues, Duan JunJie set off for the BS Building. One or two minutes before, he got a message from the special communication channel of B.S that an emergency meeting was to be held.

Before entering the meeting room, he habitually knocked the door three times and after getting permission from Victor, he finally opened the door and entered.

"The next step of the plan can start."

"I know. I will arrange the needed manpower." --- As usual Victor was ready to withstand his(Duan JunJie's) next actions until a silver-haired man suddenly broke in and interrupted Duan JunJie's bargaining with Victor over the length of overtime work he has to do.

"You two can talk slowly."

Without waiting for the silver-haired man to scan his eyes coldly, Duan JunJie turned around and left the meeting room very wittily. He's only doing what he's supposed to do, not listening to what he shouldn't listen to. This is the work principle he has always believed in. -- Duan JunJie feels that his current life is very good. Both LFG and BLACK SWAN are huge and sophisticated associations, requiring countless "Attorney Duan" and Caerus as screws to maintain their operation.

The man at the helm/steer who directs the operation is Victor.

Screws can get stuck occasionally and can be replaced but Victor cannot make any mistakes, let alone replace him. Once he makes any mistakes, the consequences are bound to be fatal.

Perhaps in terms of risk, following the word "Victor" is already the biggest gamble in Duan JunJie's life. ---- His tokens were all on bet because of this man. He inexplicably believed that Victor could win, not because of the gorgeous numbers in LFG's annual report, nor because B.S continued to grow these glamorous crowns and success under his leadership.

But is the stray cat that was rescued, the brand new "Small Syringe" industry chain and the badge on the chest of his colleagues.....The reason lied in these things.

Duan JunJie turned on his phone and opened the messaging app before starting the next stage of work.

"What was the 'LFG cat-lover group' number again?"

[R&S CLEARED]

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

T/N : Thank you for reading. Do let me know if there are any errors.

But the biggest question still prevails. What was the cat groups number?

[lavishedinjimin]

Cowards in love (m)

— synopsis: You and Jimin had been friends for a long seven years. But will a novel coworker of yours replace the tightly-knit bond you had with Jimin?

Confess? He can’t. He’s too afraid of that.

↳ pairing: jimin x f reader

↳ rating: 18+

↳ genre: friends to lovers!au, smut, angst, fluff

↳ word count: 9.5k

↳ warnings: office worker OC, possessive jimin, dom jimin, sub reader, jealously, ownership, filthy dirty talk, unprotected sex (NO GLOVE NO LOVE!), rough sex, hair pulling, oral (m receiving), slight IMPREG KINK during intercourse, spanking, name calling (slut, brat), pussy slapping, multiple orgasms (and I mean two)

A/N: Contains fake texts screenshots! Sorry if you don’t like those - but I do - so yeah :D

“Miss Y/n, as usual, you have done amazingly well. You have pleased me and the company so much that I decided to give you another promotion.” 

You smirk, sitting upright on the leather chair. Your boss sat across from you at the long wooden table, a black envelope in his hand. You nodded and bowed your head in respect. 

“We see how you work nonstop and we want you to rest for a while. Go and treat yourself, y/n.” He slides a white envelope to you. As you grab a hold of the paper, your lips curves up in a smile as you feel how thick it is. Peeking inside, there lays five hundred bucks. 

Your boss stands up, and you copy his actions. He walks over to you with such poise, lifting his hand to you. Shaking his hand, he nods his head once. “Congratulations, Y/n. We expect a lot from you.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Lim. The company has all of my passion.” 

~

“You are quite the dime, petal.”

Scoffing, you turn around to your best friend, Jimin, who was sitting on your bed and checking you out. “Don’t try to woo me now, Park Jimin,” you turn back to the mirror, applying more of the burgundy-colored lipstick that he specifically bought for you. You notice him smirk through his reflection, standing up. He places his hands on the pockets of his jeans as he shrugs his shoulders, walking closer to you.

“The guy who wins your heart will be so lucky,” he muses, eyes shining in awe. 

Jimin stares at your image in the mirror, smiling at how gorgeous you looked. Your short hair falling to your shoulders, a burgundy blouse that matched your lips, black tight slacks that were flared on the very bottom, giving a 70′s vibe. Paired with black stilettos and your ‘signature’ black cat-eyed glasses. You look back at him, smiling, “Don’t you consider yourself lucky that you have me as your best friend?” 

He laughs, making your heart warm instantly. It was one of your weaknesses, that laugh can heal your sorrows and all negative things that the world throws at you. He was your medicine. 

Jimin steps closer and wraps his arms around your waist for a back hug, placing a quick kiss on your cheek. “I am. Now go and finish up while I start the car.” 

“Okay.” 

He leaves the room with a heavy heart, allowing a loud sigh escape his lips. Jimin has agreed to come with you to celebrate your promotion with a couple of your coworkers. As your best friend, he couldn’t say no to you.

When you were finished getting ready, you walk outside of the house, locking the door behind you. You smile grateful at Jimin when he opens the passenger’s side door for you. “You’re too sweet, Jimin.” You giggle.

He lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “Only for you,” he mutters, quiet enough for you not to hear.

The drive to the restaurant wasn’t that long as the two of you were having a normal conversation. “Who have you invited?” He asks.

“Not a lot actually. My office buddies – Sunmi and Chungha.” Jimin nods with a hum, allowing you to continue. “There’s also, of course, Namjoon, Yoongi, and a guy that’s new to the company.”

“New guy?” Jimin chuckles quietly, “What’s his name?”

“Park Jinyoung. We’ve become close ‘cause he’s working right under my field. Don’t worry, you’ll love him! He’s quite intimidating at first but that’s only because of his menacing eyes. He’s a wonderful man.” You titter, turning your head to look at his direction as your eyes glittered in enthusiasm. But what shocks you is the deadpan expression on his face, eyebrows slightly creasing with his bottom lip between his teeth. He looks annoyed, and you did not know why.

“What’s wrong?” you ask with a gentle voice. His breath suddenly hikes up slightly when you rest your hand on his thigh.

He closes his eyes for a brief moment before reopening them. “Nothing,” he gives you a fake smile, “I bet he’s lovely.” He says sarcastically.

“He is!”

Jimin wished you could’ve said something else. 

Your heart flutters when Jimin opens the door for you, sending you his charming smile. His eyes turning into little crescents, lips curving up. You give him your thanks while as you enter the restaurant. Jimin suddenly interlocks both of your arms together, but you didn’t mind. You were used to his clinginess.

There was not a lot of people inside the restaurant even though it was a busy Saturday. As your heels click against the black tiles, your eyes scan around the area to find the table where all of your friends were.

“Isn’t that Chungha?” Jimin says and points to his right. You immediately smile widely when Chungha raises her hand to signal their location. Jimin chuckles adoringly when you remove your arm away from his, quickly running to the table.

“Y/n! Congratulations!” Chungha stands up and gives you a tight hug, “You totally deserve it.”

“Thank you so much!” you squeal. Sunmi and the boys stand up as well to congratulate you.

Jimin watches from afar as he walks towards the round table, eyes taking a good look at Jinyoung. He quirks a single brow up when he catches how Jinyoung rakes your body up and down.

Clenching his jaw, Jimin hurriedly makes his way to your side to wrap an arm around your waist.

“Oh, there you are!” Namjoon exclaims on his seat, “We haven’t seen you in a while, Jimin!”

“Uh, hah, yeah,” he tries to calm himself down, “Been busy.”

You glace at Jimin oddly before turning back your attention to the group. “Oh, Jimin! This is Jinyoung, he’s grown to be a good friend of mine.”

Jinyoung stands up from his seat without hesitation and reaches out to shake Jimin’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Jimin. Y/n has told me a lot about you.”

Jimin doesn’t hide his bitter scoff, “Only good news, I hope.”

Jinyoung only smirks at that, leaving him baffled.

Sitting down on one of the unoccupied chairs, you called for a waiter for everyone to start ordering. “Since I’m treating all of you today, please get whatever you want!”

“Y/n! No judgment, okay?” Yoongi gives you a knowing look, understanding what he already means by that.

“Yes, Yoongi. As much as you want.”

As everyone chooses their meals, Jimin scoots closer to your side. You look at him with a smile on your face but he pretends to ignore you, scanning the menu in front of him.

“Do you wanna get some glazed steak rolls?” he asks you, “They’re your favorite, right?”

You frown, tilting your head to the right as you read the menu carefully. “Uh, yeah – but I’m not in the mood for steak right now.”

“Hmm, alright. Oh, look! They serve roasted lambs, Y/n,” Jimin asserts.

“Heh, no lambs for me today, Chim.”

“Well, how about—”

“Y/n,” Jinyoung suddenly blurts out across from you.

“Yes?” you lift your head, smiling at him.

Jimin listens attentively, his eyes shooting up to burn holes into Jinyoung’s eyes. But he doesn’t seem to mind. Jimin feels his blood boil from the way he was looking at you.

“Didn’t you told me yesterday that you were craving for shrimp? Try ordering their shrimp pasta, it’s delicious.” Jinyoung talks with a smirk, the corner of his mouth lifting. He knows what he was doing to Jimin, amused from his annoyed reactions.

“I should!” you exclaim, “Thanks Jinyoung.”

“No problem, Y/n.”

Jimin feels a hard punch in his heart.

Humiliated, disappointed, infuriated.

As time passed by and everyone got their meals, Jimin was over your side. He’d be so touchy, resting his hand on your thigh and keeping it there the whole time. He would also often wrap an arm around the back of your chair, pulling you close. You’ve never seen him act like this as if something was bothering him, but you just can’t wrap your head around it.

“So Y/n,” Sunmi says to get your attention, “you know that you’re so lucky to be promoted in such a quick time! How do you do it?” she chimes as the others quickly agree. Jimin, on the other hand, didn’t react as he was busy eyeing Jinyoung up and down.

“Ah, as expected from Y/n. I’ve never seen anyone so dedicated and hardworking to be honest,” Chungha replies, making your cheeks blush from their kind words.

“You guys are too nice. I just love my job a lot, I guess,” you shrug with a quiet laugh.

“Jinyoung, how does it feel working with Y/n?” Yoongi asks him, “Does she treat you like hell?” All but Jimin laughs at his statement, and you feel him grip your thigh a little bit harder. You send him a quick glare, grabbing his wrist and pushing his hand away from your thigh.

“She’s amazing, Yoongi,” he says in awe, “I won’t ask for anyone else.”

You blush at Jinyoung’s words, lowering your head from embarrassment as the group gives approving sighs.

“Y/n, are you blushing?” Namjoon spills as he chews on his medium-rare steak. Immediately shaking your head, you cover your face with your hands, “No! I’m not!”

“What’s going on here, huh? Y/n? Jinyoung?” Yoongi grins at the two of you knowingly, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Nothing!” you reply in a speed of light.

“I said what I said,” Jinyoung shrugs his shoulders, making direct eye contact to Jimin for a split second before returning his gaze back on you. “Y/n’s such a great person to work with. I adore how she’s so optimistic, always striving to help people. She absolutely deserves everything.”

Jimin crinkles his nose.

“Jinyoung, please,” you giggle, your smile wider than it already was.

“It’s true! I can’t help but love my job when I have someone like you.”

“Damn! Someone fine me a guy like Jinyoung,” Chungha says jokingly, giggling in her seat.

“So you’re making moves now on her, is it?” Jimin finally snaps. His voice bitter, squinting his eyes at the man across from you.

Everything suddenly falls silent, all eyes on Jimin. “If you wanna compliment her then I suggest you just go straight to the point.” He fakes a smile at him, however, Jinyoung was not about to back down.

“Jimin? Isn’t it quite ironic that you tell me to go straight to the point when you can’t even do it yourself?”

Jinyoung knows. He knows that Jimin likes you, it was obvious from the way he looks at you, from the way he acts around you. It was clear to him that he was in love with you, but he doesn’t seem to know why he’s unable to confess.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jimin grits, closing his hands into a fist.

“I think I do, Jimin,” Jinyoung snickers, “Anyway. What I was trying to say since I was rudely interrupted – will it be okay if we watch a movie together tomorrow?” he gives Jimin a scorching glare, “alone?”

“Sure! I—”

“No.”

You felt your heart drop down the floor. Whipping your head to face Jimin, you look at him with a disgusted expression, “Jimin? What do you mean ‘no’?”

He suddenly grabs a hold of your wrist with one hand, his eyes burning holes into yours, “I said, no.”

“Jimin, sorry dude, but you don’t really get to decide for Y/n.” Chungha retorts, “Who are you to say no?”

Jimin felt his heart clench from the harsh truth. He was nothing to you but your best friend. The atmosphere around the room gets thicker and thicker as each long minute passes. Everyone had their eyes on you and Jimin, offended from his words.

“Let Y/n do whatever she wants. If she wants to go out with Jinyoung then let her!” Namjoon tries to sound calm but fails at the last words.

“Jimin,” you say to him calmly, trying your best to handle the situation, “What’s wrong? Just tell me, I won’t be mad.” Jimin sees how your eyes grow wide, the desperation evident in them.

He shakes his head, frowning, “I-I can’t.”

You were about to reply before Jinyoung cuts you off, “So what do you say, Y/n? This time I’ll be the one treating you.”

Ignoring the way Jimin tightens his grip around your wrist, you smile at Jinyoung. “Sure, I’ll come.”

Jimin can’t take it anymore. He abruptly slams his hands on the table as he stands up. The loud noise he created caused multiple heads to turn to your groups’ table. “Jimin!” Yoongi warns, but he cancels his voice out of his mind.

“I’m finished eating. I’m gonna go home.”

Jimin gives you one, final look. You can catch the hurt and sadness in his eyes before he begins to walk away.

You stand up and try to catch him, “Jimin, wait!” but you got nowhere near him because Jinyoung’s hand catches your arm.

“Let him go. If he was really your best friend then he won’t do this to you.”

“B-But,” you stammer, feeling your chest tighten. You feel like everything was your fault, staring at Jimin’s back as he walks out of the restaurant. You waited for him to at least look back at you, yet he doesn’t.

“Y/n, let him be. This is supposed to be your day, remember?” Sunmi pouts, “Just enjoy your day, don’t let him bring you down.”

As Jimin brisk walks to the parking lot, feeling as if he was carrying weights on his shoulder. His mind was clouded in anger; towards Jinyoung, to you, and to himself. He feels betrayed yet he completely knows that he has no right to be.

He waits inside his car for a few minutes, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel as he waits for anything, something to happen. He can’t stop thinking about the way how Jinyoung looked at you like you were a piece of meat, he hates how you blushed every time he talked nicely to you. Hell, even the simplest things he did made him pissed. He hates the way Jinyoung teased him, he despites how he mocked him in front of everyone.

Jimin grunts loudly, his mind pounding harshly as he rests his forehead on the steering wheel. But every time he closes his eyes, you appear. He can imagine the way you smile, the sound of your laugh, your touch of your hands, your melodious voice, everything he loves about you made his heart ache.

Why can’t he just tell you how he really feels?

He waits in his car for a little bit over five minutes, figuring that you weren’t coming to talk to him. It was ridiculous for him to think that you would. He starts the engine and drives away.

“Jinyoung can drive her home,” Jimin mutters under his breath.

Jimin wasn’t responding to your texts. After the fight he and Jinyoung had earlier, Jimin thought it would be fun to ignore you.

Sure, what he did in front of everyone in the restaurant was wrong, and it was so low of him. He never acted like that in all your years of being friends, acting so possessive of you. There’s nothing wrong hanging out with another guy! You hang out with Namjoon and Yoongi all the time during work, how was Jinyoung different?

It was obvious that Jimin didn’t like him, but why was he acting out like this now? In your seven years of being best friends, he was always on good terms with your guy friends.

You check your phone endlessly tonight, hoping, praying that he will at least leave you on delivered. But he doesn’t.

Groaning loudly, you shut your eyes closed while you flop down on the soft comfort of your bed. You feel like your heart was about to burst any minute. You don’t want to lose your best friend.

Jimin feels like a piece of shit for leaving you. There was no excuse for him to act like that, letting go of his feelings and he allowed it to control him.

He just couldn’t hold back anymore.

He wants you.

He wants you for himself, and no one else.

Jimin knows that you’re a lovable person. You’re loved by many of your coworkers, and you were always so nice that it won’t be hard for you to make new friends. He’s selfish and he knows it, but he’s been hiding his feelings under the rocks for two years. Two years of jealousy, two years of enviousness, and it was hard. He always tried his best to keep you close, but it was difficult to be with someone who doesn’t feel the same way.

And perhaps running away from you will let him run away from his feelings, too.

Finally opening his phone, his heart pounds loudly in his chest, feeling like absolute crap.

“I’m sorry, petal,” he breathlessly says, heart breaking into a million pieces. “But I don’t know what else to do.”

Confess? He can’t. He’s too afraid of that.

It’s been four days since you last talked with Jimin, and it’s been rough. You couldn’t focus on anything but him, because losing his presence scared you. Losing your best friend was more heartbreaking than any other relationship.

You missed your late-night calls with each other, talking about each other’s day, ranting about anyone and anything. You missed his presence, seeing his charming smile, hearing his delicate voice, his hugs and kisses, and his irritating teases. You didn’t know how much you adore him until he was gone.

“Fucking shit,” you cursed, feeling a headache beginning to occur. Letting your elbows rest on your wooden desk, you cover your face behind your palms. You were so frustrated, totally ignoring the piles of paper in front of you. You had so much work to do that was due in a couple hours and you haven’t started on anything.

There was a sudden knock on your door, and you quickly shoot your head up. “Come in.”

Jinyoung appears with a black portfolio on his hands, greeting you with a kind smile. “Here are all of the records you asked for, Y/n.”

He approaches your desk and you grab the files, adding it onto your mountain of documents. “Thanks,” you say blankly.

“A-Are you okay?” Jinyoung asks carefully, trying not to piss you off.

“I, uh…” you stammer, huffing a heavy puff of breath. “I’m fine.”

Jinyoung doesn’t reply yet he suddenly approaches your desk, placing both of his hands on the table. Your eyes widen, gulping the lump in your throat. Jinyoung looks at you with a little grin on his face, his eyes sultry. “W-what are you doing?”

“Oh, Y/n,” he sighs, lowering down to rest his forearms. Your heart pumps rapidly in your chest when his face was mere inches away from yours. “I think it’s time for you to rest your mind for a little while…”

“Jinyoung, what are you saying?”

The smirk on his face doesn’t wipe away as he moves his face a little bit closer. You can smell his minty scent, refreshing your senses. Yes, you can agree that Jinyoung was pretty hot and he had the looks. He knows what to say to make anyone fall for him. But something feels wrong.

“I know what’s going through your head, babe. You can use me, you know that?”

“U-Use you? Jinyoung I don’t—”

He suddenly grabs the back of your face with his right hand, pulling you even closer so that your lips were centimeters away. He slowly bites his lip, making your stomach turn from the sight. “Use me to get your mind off of him.”

You were too tired to argue, too exhausted to fight him. But perhaps it’ll work.

So without thinking, you press your lips onto his.

Jinyoung chuckles in surprise, smiling into the kiss. He holds your face in his hands while you stand up, inviting more of him. He breaks the kiss for a couple of seconds to move around your table, approaching you. Your hands fly to his hair, his hands on your hips as you both continued your ministrations. Jinyoung groans when you tug on his locks, electrifying currents shooting down his back.

Suddenly, he lowers his hands until it reaches the bottom of your spine. “Is it okay if I…” without any warning, he drags his hands further down until he reaches your ass, giving it a firm squeeze.

“Oh!” you gasp, and Jinyoung uses your startled state to slip his tongue in, meeting yours.

This is wrong.

“Mmm, Y/n,” he mutters with a smirk, “I love how you taste.”

Jinyoung pushes your body up on the nearest wall and he traps your hands against it. He winks at you.

“Jinyoung, t-the door isn’t locked.”

“Oh, is that a problem babe?” he snickers, peppering kisses all over your neck, making you shut your eyes. “Wouldn’t you want people to see?” he tantalizes.

No.

“Jinyoung,” you whimper in protest, but he misunderstands it as a moan. His grip on your wrists was hard and firm, and you were slowly getting irritated. You didn’t want this, you want nothing but him.

Jimin.

“Jinyoung, please stop.”

You were shocked when he actually pulls away, a confused expression slapped on his face. “Y/n?”

“I-I,” you shake your head. You thought that kissing him might help you get rid of your tense feelings and thoughts yet it was only making things worse. You can’t focus on him, you just can’t. Your mind goes directly to Jimin, what he might think if he sees you like this, what he might feel.

“I can’t do this,” you laugh nervously, looking down. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he says quietly while he nods his head. “I-uh, I should go.”

“Yeah,” the air thickens. You scratch the back of your neck timidly, “I have w-work to do.”

“Right.”

No one moves for a while, and you just wanted to crawl into a little ball and die from awkwardness.

He was the first one to move, giving you a quiet ‘see you later’. You hear the clicking of his shoes getting farther and farther away before he exits your office.

Running your hands through hair, you close your eyes in frustration.

What the fuck did you just do? Your mind was going crazy, wishing that you could just go back in time and stop him. This just made the situation worse.

Sitting back down on your chair while huffing a breath, you pull yourself closer to the desk and you unload the pile of papers. You tell yourself that you have to stop being so childish and start working, but truth be told – you just need a distraction.

You and Jimin were both cowards. That’s one thing you know for sure.

It has been a total of one week since you’ve last talked to your best friend, and every day was horrible. You never knew that you could miss someone this much.

“I can’t stand his behavior,” you groaned as you talked to Sunmi through the phone. You were drinking white wine on a Saturday night like the sad single moms you see on TV. “He doesn’t respond to any of my texts and calls. It’s like I don’t even exist anymore.” You rant.

“He’s acting really childish, Y/n. He started the fight with Jinyoung and now he’s hiding from everything. It’s not even a big deal!”

Your mind backtracks to the moment where he was gripping your thighs so hard whenever Jinyoung was talking to you, and when he held you by your wrist. He was being so suspicious.

“I don’t get it,” you rub your face with your hand, “I don’t get how he can just hate Jinyoung when he doesn’t have any problems with my other male friends. He’s ridiculous.”

“Maybe Jimin knows him and they have a dark past together?”

“Wow, isn’t that too farfetched?”

“Who knows, Y/n.”

But you miss Jimin’s presence. A lot more than you expected.

“I just miss him, Sunmi. I can’t lose him now,” you shake your head, your heart getting heavy. “Not like this.”

You put your phone on loudspeaker, flipping your body over so now you were laying on your stomach. You cross your arms in front of you, burying your face in them. You wanted to cry.

“I miss him,” you whisper.

Jimin was a friend that everyone asks for. He was always there for you, taking care of you, loving you, adoring you. He was there during your ups and downs, being by your side during your best and worst moments. Jimin was all that you could ask for. He was never the one to judge you because he loves you for the way you are. You can never get bored when you hang out with him, his charming smile can make your day a thousand times better.

“Sunmi, can I tell you something?” you speak up after a few moments of silence.

“Of course Y/n, anything.”

“Jimin was never mine, but losing him broke my heart.”

Sunmi coos at your words, noticing how your voice cracked amid the sentence. “Aww, Y/n, Y/n,” she sighs, “You won’t lose him, silly. I know that he won’t throw your seven years of friendship away just like that. How about you just go talk to him in person? Go to his house and let him explain. C’mon, girl. You are both adults now, I’m sure he won’t mind.”

You hated how you can only think of negative thoughts and outcomes. “And if he doesn’t answer? What if he just kicks me out?”

“Then keep trying.”

You gathered your courage to knock on his door, just the thought of him ditching you was making your chest hurt.

You stare at the black wooden door, holding your hand up.

Holding your breath, you knock at the door three times.

No response.

The cold wind blows and you can feel goosebumps arise from your skin. The breeze whooshes your hair that it covers your face, and you push the strands away with a puff. You quickly knock on the door again, louder this time, yet there was still nothing. Not even muffled footsteps to indicate that he was there.

“Please open the door,” you whine, about to knock once more but a sudden voice startled you.

“Y/n?” Eyes growing bigger from the realization for who it belongs, you turn around.

Your best friend stands there, his hands inside the pocket of his jacket as he looks at you with the same surprised expression. He was wearing black skinny jeans that enunciated his long legs, a black and white patterned bomber jacket plus a black cap. He looks good.

“Y/n, hello?” he raises his voice up, making you snap back to reality. “I asked why you are here.”

“I, well…” you gulp, “I want to have a talk with you.”

Your heart drops down low to the ground when Jimin scoffs bitterly. You step aside when he comes up to unlock the front door.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he snaps.

“Oh my god, are you actually serious?!” you raise your voice at him, stepping inside his house even though he didn’t tell you to. Jimin removes his hat and runs a hand through his hair, the frustration evident in his face. You feel frightened when he suddenly throws the hat on the couch vigorously, turning his head to face you. His once soft features were replaced with rage and irritation.

“Go on then, yell at me,” he takes long strides towards you, your feet automatically walking backward. Your chest feels like it weighs a million pounds as his words stab daggers into your heart. “Go! Tell me how much of a fucking asshole I am to ignore you for a whole week. Shout at me for how immature I am, come on! Y/n, I know you want to—”

“Jimin, stop!” you yell, pushing at his chest. “I just want you to explain!”

“I told you already, I can’t.” Jimin turns his back on you, heading to his bedroom. You release a deep, exasperated sigh as you follow behind him.

“Why? What can’t you explain?!”

He doesn’t answer, silence filling the air. Jimin removes his jacket and places it on his bed, his short-sleeve shirt giving you a full view of his arms. You flutter your eyes away for a moment.

At least you saw him today. Even his presence made you feel better.

“Jimin, please?” you say softly, grabbing the courage to walk up to him. Jimin doesn’t look at you directly, putting his gaze on somewhere else as you grab a hold of his forearms. You notice his Adam’s apple bob when you do so.

“Hey, hey, look at me,” you grip his head, applying a gentle force to turn his head to you.

He wasn’t angry anymore, you can see it in his eyes. But this time was different. He looks… vulnerable. Your heart smashes into a million shards when you see the sad glint in his eyes.

“You don’t know a thing.” He mutters underneath his breath, voice low.

“Then tell me!” you plead, eyebrows knitting together. You don’t let him get away from your hold as you keep him close to you. You were not going to let him run away again, not ever.

Jimin closes his eyes, inhaling a deep breath. You wonder what this thing that was bothering him could be.

“I love you.”

Your mouth goes dry.

“I-I love you too, Jimin, and you know that—!”

“No, no, Y/n.” he unexpectedly holds your hand tightly, letting him tower over you as he slowly pushes your back against the wall. He traps you there, your hands in between the two of you. “I love you more than a friend. And it scares the fuck out of me that if I tell you this, you’ll leave.”

“Jimin…” you try to comprehend all that he said, but your mind was clouded in too many thoughts all at once.

“I tried, fuck,” he turns away for a second, finding it hard to look at you. “I tried to fucking distance myself from you in hopes that my feelings will disappear, but it only made everything worse.”

You don’t respond, allowing him to continue.

“I only wanted you more.”

You can feel his hand tremble as your own turns sweaty. Jimin loves you.

But how can you tell that you love him back?

“I’m such an idiot for running away, Y/n. I’m a coward who can’t face his own feelings. I was scared because my feelings for you were getting worse. Jinyoung…” he looks at the ceiling, sighing, “Jinyoung was, I guess, my last straw. I couldn’t stand it anymore, the thought of you being happy with some other guy. My selfishness was taking the best of me and I wanted you for myself. It’s so hard for me to say it because I’m afraid to lose you.”

“H-How,” you swallow, forcing yourself not to cry. “How long?”

Jimin understands your question as he gives you a sympathetic smile, “Two years, petal.”

Your body slumps as you frown, guilt occupying your body that he had his feelings longer than you. Jimin endured a lot of heartaches and hurt during those long two years, but he loves to be around with you. That was the only thing that kept him going.

Jimin’s eyes widen when you suddenly wrap your arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. His heart warms in his chest as he releases a light chuckle, hugging you back. Your press your cheek on his shoulder, closing your eyes. “I love you too.”

Then, Jimin’s body goes stiff.

Did he hear correctly?

Were his ears deceiving him?

You giggle when you feel him stop breathing, looking up to meet his gaze. “I love you too, Jimin. More than you can think of.”

“T-tell me that you’re serious, Y/n.” he holds your chin gently, hoping that you won’t look away, “Don’t say you love me if you don’t mean it.”

“What are you saying, Jimin,” you playfully smack his arm, “I’m not joking. I have feelings for you too.”

Jimin’s heart swells in happiness, getting a huge weight off of his shoulders. His face blushes in red, smiling like an idiot, “Really?”

“Really.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

“Petal, don’t mess with me,” he suddenly lowers his tone as if scolding you.

“I’m not!” you giggle, “I’m in love with you too, Park Jimin.”

A loud squeal leaves your lips when he surprisingly wraps his strong arms around your hips and lifts you up in the air. He spins you around and around, a wide smile plastered on his face as he admires your reaction. You laugh, swinging your arms around his neck for support as you tilted your head back. Wiggling your legs, you try to squirm but he grips your tighter.

Your heart swells in joy.

“Jimin! Put me down!” you yelp when he doesn’t stop spinning you. Jimin laughs uncontrollably before flopping your bodies down on his bed. Eyes growing wide, your breath hitches up when the proximity between your faces was at least three inches away.

His smile doesn’t falter, eyes shining like a child who just received candy.

“So…”

“So?”

“I guess it’s finally time to call you my girlfriend, huh?”

Nodding your head shyly, you feel your face warms up as a blush forms your cheeks. Jimin sees this and coos at you, “Aww, someone’s blushing! You like it when I call you my girlfriend?”

“Yeah,” you mutter timidly. “A lot.”

Jimin sighs and plops beside you. He grabs a pillow and places it underneath your heads. Slinging his left arm around your body, he tugs you close for a cuddle. You and Jimin cuddled before, of course, but you feel something different this time.

You snuggle your face into his body, inhaling his pleasant scent.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you had feelings for me at the time? Were you just as scared as I was?” Jimin asks, his voice soft and gentle.

You chuckle, “Unlike you, I actually just couldn’t get myself to admit. I was always trying to throw my feelings at the back of my head because I was afraid that it was impossible for you to like me back. But I was wrong.” You tilt your head up to look at him, giving him a cheerful smile, “We’re always so intimate, you know? Like you can kiss me on the cheeks and I can kiss you on the cheeks, you’ve seen me half-naked and I’ve seen you half-naked, I know how big your di—”

“Y/n! Oh my fucking god,” he cuts you off by placing a hand above your mouth, stopping your words, “Shush!”

You push his hand away, a smirk on your face, “Anyway, what I was saying… we’re so close.” your heart flutters when Jimin starts to caress your cheek lovingly, feeling butterflies inside your stomach from his simple action. “And I’m glad that we’re finally official, petal. I can kiss you whenever I want now, letting the world know you’re mine.”

Today marks the company’s 85th anniversary, and Mr. Lim decides to treat all employees for drinks at one of South Korea’s most luxurious bars – The Southside Parlor. And of course, you and your friend didn’t back out.

Chuckling, you place your phone back on your bedside table. Your friends had no idea that you and Jimin were a thing now, and you decide to drop the good news later this evening.

Slipping on the short, satin red dress, your mind wonders if your outfit is too revealing. Is it too inappropriate?

‘Fuck it’, you thought.

You only have Jimin to impress.

You curl your hair into natural-looking waves, your short hair falling right above your shoulders. Then, you apply a good amount of makeup and of course a red lipstick to top it all off. You quickly snap a mirror selfie of you and your chosen outfit before sending it to the group chat.

“Oh my god,” you mutter under your breath, covering your mouth from Namjoon’s little comment. You couldn’t hold back the laughter as you shake your head in dismay.

You grabbed your purse and went to put all of your necessary items; your phone, wallet – even though the drinks are free – mints, and of course, lipstick.

A sudden knock on your door sends shivers running down your spine, knowing exactly who it was. Quickly putting on your heels, you make your way to the front door of your apartment to welcome Jimin.

“Hi!” you pull the door open, greeting him with a big smile. Your eyes sparkle when you study how good he looks, wearing a black long sleeve button-down shirt tucked in some tight black slacks that really makes you want to focus your attention on his crotch area. Nice.

But there was no response from him. He furrows his brows as he rakes your body up and down, licking his lips slowly

You giggle, a tint of red forming on your cheeks. “Jimin, are you checking—”

“You’re not going out wearing that.”

Immediately, you roll your eyes from his sour words. Crossing your arms together, you lean on one hip, “And why not?” you challenge.

A smug smirk appears on his face, right eyebrow raising in authority. You were not going to lie, but his reaction turned you on. He slowly walks over to your figure, shutting the door behind him. But what shocks you is when you heard a little ‘click’ of the doorknob, indicating that he just locked the door.

“U-Uh,” your mouth instantly dries up, but you try your best to keep your composure. “Why am I n-not supposed to wear this, huh?”

Jimin’s gaze suddenly turns sultry, as if a switch was ignited inside of him. He looks at your body, taking his time to check you out from bottom to top. And that man, oh god, he was biting his lip. He knows what he was doing to you, he knows that you’ll feel butterflies, he knows that it’ll turn you on.

“Hmm,” he hums, shuffles closer until he’s got his arms around your hips. He tugs you closer until your bodies were pressed against each other. You can feel your palms starting to sweat, knees wobbly like jelly. “You really wanna know why?”

“Y-Yeah,” the way you stuttered so easily made your cheeks blush, and you quickly cover it off by clearing your throat. You tilt your head up a little bit, making it seem like his actions didn’t bother you at all when it was clearly the opposite. “Yes. Tell me.”

Without any warning, Jimin grabs the back of your neck and he moves his head right in front of your left ear. With the sudden closeness, you can feel his hot breath hitting against your skin, causing small little bumps to appear on your arms and legs.

“Because I don’t want any other men to look at how fucking hot and beautiful you are.”

He doesn’t even let you reply as he pushes you against the door, trapping your arms above your head, your purse dropping to the floor. Your breath stops when he suddenly places fervent kisses all over your neck, making you release quiet moans in pleasure. Your nerves were on fire as you feel his soft, plump lips on your skin, your fantasies finally coming to life.

“Call me possessive, call me controlling, I don’t give a fuck,” he growls “You need to know that this body right here,” he runs a hand down your spine and onto your butt, giving your asscheek a firm squeeze, “belongs to me.”

“J-Jimin, oohh,” you whimper when he continues to mark your neck, for sure leaving hickeys and bite marks. He was marking you as his, letting everyone know that you’re his property. You can feel him smirk every time he leaves a purple bruise on your skin, knowing that he’s the only one that can see you like this.

“You’re too fucking sexy to share, petal. And this dress? Fucking hell baby,” he breathes out a slight groan, “I can’t let you go without fucking you.”

His words ignite a fire in your stomach and you don’t waste any more time, pulling him into a kiss. Jimin immediately grins, lips molding together, tasting your lips as if it was his last time to ever do so. He cups your face while you run your hands through his hair, knowing how much he likes it.

You groan when he bites your bottom lip all of the sudden, tugging on the soft flesh with his teeth. He chuckles when he hears you mewl, his dick growing hard under his tight dress pants. “Jimin, please,” you beg, “more.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” He swiftly picks you up bridal style, earning a squeal from you as he brings you to the bedroom.

He removes your shoes and gently plops you down on the bed, but then a sudden thought invades your mind. Faking a pout, you say in a little voice, “What about the free drinks?”

Jimin scoffs, unbuttoning his shirt while your mouth waters from the sight of him. He likes your reaction, slipping the top off his toned body. “What do you care more about, petal? Drinks, or…” he hovers above you, slowly grazing his lips right above your own, “my dick?”

You almost want to laugh out loud, but you didn’t want to ruin the mood.

Smirking, you reply, “How about both?”

“Oh petal, need to stuff that smart little mouth of yours my cock, huh?” he groans, removing his pants all the way down. He kneels on the bed in front of you and signals you to get up, “on all fours, baby.”

Your cunt clenches around thin air when you were face to face with his covered cock, the outline of his hard shaft evident in his tight briefs. He palms himself for a moment, using his other hand to grip your chin. He tilts your head up, “Look at me,” you obey, staring at him with wide eyes.

“Oh, fuck,” he smirks, “you don’t know how many nights I’ve dreamed about this. Your pretty lips wrapped around my cock so nicely, taking my cock so deep down that throat, can you handle it baby?”

With each word, your pussy seems to get wetter and wetter, drenching your poor little underwear. You whimper, nodding your head. Just the thought of him tilting his head back in pure pleasure, his hands on your hair, forcing you down on his dick made you hornier and needy for him.

“Take my cock out, petal.”

Without saying anything more, you lift your hands to tug his briefs down, his cock finally springing out, slightly hitting your face. You gasp when you saw how big and thick it was, veins prominent as a little bit of precum dripped down from the tip. With your mouth agape, Jimin uses this chance to grab his base and rub his head against your lips, smearing the precum all over your mouth.

“Mhmm, fuck,” he grunts, “my pretty little baby. Have you thought about this, hm? Ever fantasized about sucking my cock?”

Fluttering your eyelashes at him, you smile lustfully, “Yeah, every time you wear those dress pants or your grey sweats. Just whenever you dress up and down basically, I can’t get the thought out of my head. Everything’s just hot about you, to be quite honest, whenever you—”

“God this fucking mouth just doesn’t shut up, huh?” he suddenly grabs a bunch of your hair, tilting your head back forcefully. You release a whine from the sting, but Jimin doesn’t seem to care. “Open,” he growls, and you obey. “Suck on my dick like a good girl.”

Jimin gasps when you wrap your lipstick-stained mouth around his cock, lathering your tongue around his head teasingly. Covering his dick with your spit, you suck deeper, bobbing your head up and down slowly. Without losing eye contact, you give him a playful wink.

“Little slut,” he tsk-ed as he abruptly thrusts his hips, making you gag. The sound created deep waves of pleasure all over Jimin’s body, riling him up. “Don’t you try to tease me, petal.” He grips your hair tighter, shoving more of his cock down your throat, “We both know who’s in control here.”

“Mnggf,” you mumble, forcing your eyes open as it grows heavier and heavier with him pushing your head closer to his pubic bone, gagging and choking around his cock. Spit dribbles down from your chin, and Jimin seizes the opportunity to wipe your saliva with his thumb. He sucks on the digit seductively, making direct eye contact with you. You mewled from the hot sight, eyes watering.

Jimin grunts as he starts to fuck your throat, your red lips trying to take his dick made him crazy. He leans forward, forcing your head all the way, and he hikes your dress up to your waist. He suddenly delivers a harsh, loud spank on your ass. You gag uncontrollably, your stomach fluttering as he spanks you for a second time.

“This ass is mine, petal, yeah? You belong to me.”

He pulls his cock out for a moment to let you breath, slapping the head right against your cheek. You felt so dirty, but you like the feeling of being used.

Opening your mouth with your tongue sticking out, Jimin slaps his dick against the wet muscle. He groans from the feeling, tugging on your hair harshly. “Dirty little slut,” he chuckles, “you love my dick, hm?”

He thrusts in and out, ignoring your gags, ignoring how your hands fumbled to grab a hold of the sheets. Your pussy was dripping wet, clit throbbing in need.

He forces your head down until your nose touches his pubic bone once again, before finally pulling out. A thick, messy string of saliva connects from your wet lips and to the tip of his cock. Jimin growls, “Fuck, such a cockslut you are. You wanna be fucked baby? You want me to fuck you hard and rough, hm?”

“Yes, yes!” you instantly reply with a slightly hoarse voice, “Want your cock in me.”

A fire ignites inside Jimin’s veins and he suddenly snaps, flipping your body down so that you lay on your back. He roughly hikes your dress up, impatient. “All I can think about if we went to the party is ripping this dress off of you. You wouldn’t want that, do you?”

You shake your head no, biting your lip.

He helps you pull the piece of clothing off, raising his brows up when he sees that you’re not even wearing a bra. He tilts his head to the side and sighs, “Ah, petal, you’re so fucking beautiful. A reason not to share you with anyone.” Quickly diving his head down, he wraps his mouth around your perked nipple as his hand occupied the other one. He nips on the erect bud with his teeth, smirking when he hears you squeal. He flicks his tongue fervently up and down, sending quick shocks of pleasure to your core.  

“Mhmm, Jimin, please, please fuck me already,” you beg, but he only chuckles.

“Is that all you can do to beg, petal? C’mon my baby girl can do much better than that.”

Your boyfriend crawls down, his face right in front of your wet pussy. He groans, inhaling your scent. He sees the wet patch on your panties, and he uses his fingers to delicately stroke your pussy against the thin clothing. You involuntarily close your legs together, but he firmly pushes it back open with a grunt. “Keep your legs open for me, petal.”

Bringing his hand to your core, he uses his thumb to gently apply pressure on your needy clit. He bites his lip, inspecting your reaction.

Your cheeks were flushed, eyebrows contorted in frustration, “Please…” you whisper.

“I told you petal, beg.”

“A-aahh, Jimin! Oh god!” He suddenly prods his tongue right on your clit, rubbing your sensitive bud. He wasn’t using any hands, just his tongue accompanied by the friction of your panties. The corner of his mouth crooks up, liking how your buck your hips up in need, tugging his hair.

“Beg.” He growls, finally pushing your underwear down. His eyes shine with lust when he sees that your pussy was dripping in slick. “Beg, or I won’t fuck you.”  

You find it difficult to talk when he was licking bold stripes from your entrance and up to flick on your clit, your heart pounding out of your chest. You try your best to speak despite all of your moans and whines of pleasure. His tongue was so long. His eyes staring at you with a menacing look that made your cunt clench around nothing. He flicks your clit frantically, making it hard for you to breathe. 

“Please, Jimin, please fuck me. Fuck me rough – ohh yeah – fuck me however you want, I don’t care. Please – aahh! Just let me feel your cock inside me. Please please please, Jimin, I’m begging you!”  He gives one final suck on your clit, pulling at it with his lips. You almost came then and there.

He chuckles, stroking your thigh, “Good girl. That’s what I like to hear.”

Jimin flips you over and instructs you to be on your hands and knees. He grunts when your pussy was out there all in display, just for him. “Fuck, so pretty,” he runs his hand on your ass, admiring your curves and your wet cunt, “Only for me.” A hand comes down your butt once again, spanking you.

He positions his cock right against your entrance, teasingly prodding his tip in and out of your pussy. You whimper, wiggling your ass in need.

“Ah ah ah,” he warns, slapping your ass again, harder. Your body jolts forward from the sudden harsh blow. “Stay still.”

He teases the head in and out of your hole, coating the tip with your wetness. Your arms claw on the sheets in desire, your stomach curling. His dick stretches you out real good. The girth of his cock made you feel blissful as your cunt tried its best to take it all. Jimin’s eyes roll to the back of his head, gripping your hips possessively as he pushes further in. “Holy fuuuuck,” he draws out, smirking as he feels your pussy sucking him in, “you feel so fucking good, petal.”

He watches how your entrance stretches around his cock deliciously, your juices covering his shaft. “Shit, look at you, cunt so good for me, hm?” he starts to thrust in a slow pace, waiting for you to adjust, “Cunt feels so fucking good.”

“Mhmm, l-love your cock,” you stutter while your arms fail you to keep your strength, your upper body falling onto the sheets, ass up in the air.

The new position caused Jimin to go deeper, hitting all the right nerves that’ll make you closer to your edge. He fucks you faster and harder, his grip obviously leaving red marks on your skin from how tight he was holding you, sweat forming on both of your bodies.

He was thrusting his hips so hot and blissfully, making your cunt clench around him. Jimin grunts, “Oh, fucking hell petal, do that again or I’ll cum inside you.”

His words send currents throughout your body, your eyes rolling back in pleasure as his dirty words did something to you. Jimin gasps, feeling how you clench around him again, but this time tighter.

“Ohh, you like that, huh? Like being a disobedient brat?” he growls while leaning closer to your ear, fucking you balls deep.

“Jimin! Yes, fuck,” you pant, your hips meeting his as you felt his balls slap against your pussy with each thrust.

“Mhmm, you like the thought of my cum inside you, huh? Filling you up? Make this tummy round with my kids? Your pussy trying to take all of my cum, trying its best to keep it all in.” Jimin chuckles darkly, snaking a hand down to play with your clit.

“Yeah, o-oh my god!”

“What a filthy little slut I have right here, huh?” your body shudders when he carelessly slaps your clit, the action bringing your orgasm closer. He does it again, harder, as he bites the shell of your ear, “You want your tight pussy to be drenched in cum, yeah? Ohh you like that?” he laughs, his tone as if mocking you.

“I-I’m gonna cum, please, let me cum Jimin,” you say breathlessly, burying your face on the mattress as your hands gripped on the white sheets. Jimin feels your cunt tightening, and he allows you. “Go, petal. You can cum.”

“Fuck yes,” your jaw drops when a powerful rush of intense pleasure erupt from your core and throughout your body, your mind going blank as you can only focus on the euphoric feeling. But Jimin doesn’t stop. He controls his own edge and he flips you on your back, your legs finally relaxing but the burn from your previous orgasm doesn’t go away.

“Jimin, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you huff, knowing that you’re already going to hell anyway so you can curse all that you like.

“One more, petal. Cum around my fat cock one more time.”

He fucks you harder and rougher that you did not even know was possible. He uses his right hand to cup your cheek as he props his forearms down between your head. Jimin whispers in your ear, “You know I’m not actually going to cum inside you, yeah?”

You still find the energy to giggle at him but was immediately cut off when he starts pounding his dick right on your g-spot. You wrap your legs around his hips, giving him more room to fuck you. “I-I know, aaahhh shit, I’m not r-ready to have kids.”

“I know, but remember that you’re gonna have them with me.”

Your heart suddenly flutters uncontrollably from his sentence.

A painful pleasure starts to form down your core, your cunt covering his dick with your previous orgasm as he fucks you into another one. Jimin looked so good, some strands of hair sticking onto his forehead, his pretty lips bruised from all of the lip bites while his expression was just hot. He longed for this in so long, and he’s taking all of the time in the world to fuck you.

The temperature in the room gets hotter and hotter, your bodies sticky with sweat but none of you cares. He grabs a hold of your left leg and hikes it upon his shoulder, providing him a new position, his dick reaching places that were never been touched before. Your breath hikes up, back arching in immense pleasure while Jimin groans. “Yeah, that’s it, feel my dick so deep inside you? Bet no one’s ever fucked you this good?”

He gives you one particular, hard thrust, making you throw your head back. “Answer me petal, do I make you feel good?”

“Mmm, yes, oh god. Y-you’re the fucking best, Jimin.”

“Good girl,” he praise, feeling his balls getting heavier, his climax drawing closer, “This cunt is mine, get it? Mmmh, you’re mine and only mine. No one will get to look at you like this, you belong to me and I belong to you.”

Your second orgasm blows harder than the first, your hands coiling into tight fists and your toes curling from the intense pleasure bomb. It stings, yet the pain was intoxicatingly good. You were making a mess on the sheets, drenching his cock further. “Shit, that’s good, keep creaming on my cock like that baby, yeaaah.”

His thrusts were getting sloppier, signaling that he was close. He croons his head down to your neck and starts to lick the purple bruises he marked earlier. Groans and moans fill the air, and the wet squelching sounds of his cock pounding your pussy drove the two of you crazy.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum,” he rasps, “I’m gonna cum, petal. Shit, where do you want me?”

“S-Somewhere not in my vagina, Jimin,” you choked.

You can catch him roll his eyes, making you grin. He pulls out and starts to pump his messy cock, using your juices as lubrication as he brings himself to his edge. Jimin throws his head back, watching him spurt his hot cum on your stomach, some up to your chin. He came so hard, his biceps and abs flexing in the process. “Holy fuuuuuck, petal,” he grunts as he kept going. You watch him with hooded eyes, breathing heavily as you tried your best to relax.

Jimin pumps himself until the very last drip, plopping down beside you. He runs a hand over his face, huffing out a breath, “Oh my fucking god, you’re the best, petal.” He turns his head to give you a gentle kiss, “Thank you.”

“Mmm, there’s no need for thanks, Jimin. But I’d suggest you clean me up—”

“Oh, yeah! Yeah, got it.” He quickly scrambles to the bathroom to get a wet cloth. You giggle when you stare at his bare ass. 

Even his butt was bigger than yours.

a/n: Thanks so much for reading! I love you <3

[away-from-anthills]

chapter eleven-

It became apparent to Antstar near immediately that Whitetooth and Marblepaw weren’t the only ones in the medicine den.

Next to Whitetooth lay Stripedwing. The gray molly seemed well, but even under the cloak of sleep her face looked troubled. Next to her were four small bundles of fur, one of which Marblepaw was tending to.

“What’s going on?” asked Antstar, his breath so low that he wondered if he was just thinking particularly loud.

“I believe I have told you in the past about the matter concerning Stripedwing’s family tree,” began Whitetooth. “For as far back as I or my late mentor can remember, the litters containing such ancestry are quite weak, and have difficulty surviving illness. You may recall that Rainleap and Stripedwing were born in a litter of four, yet only they survived their kithood.”

Antstar nodded, but worry began to dig under his skin like a short-tempered hare. These were Russetfoot’s children!

“They’ve all caught kitten-cough. It appears the other three in the litter- Runningkit, Rustkit, and Wheatkit- are safe and healthy, and Shadeflower is caring for them. But these four… these four, I worry about.”

Suddenly, Whitetooth and Marblepaw at once pricked their ears and pointed their long snouts towards the entrance, where a figure was standing. She was a calico tabby; half of her fur was an off-white color while her back and face were covered in splotches that were mottled orange and liver. She was a naturally rather demure thing, like a particularly thin workhorse, and her pale green eyes were cradled by thick, dark eyebags that had been tinged reddish from discharge.

It was Houndnose. One of the permanent queens.

“Are they alright?” she asked in a hoarse whisper, awkwardly walking forth to inspect. Whitetooth leaned toward her, causing her to back up into herself and arch over. “I cannot say they are. I and my apprentice are giving them all the care we can, but we do not know what will happen to them.”

Whitetooth was usually fairly tall, definitely within the upper half of WindClan’s heights. But their head only met Houndnose’s lower neck. She shot one last long glance at the kittens; her glance slowly lingered and met Antstar’s before she trotted away.

“Poor, feeble thing,” Whitetooth said, solemnly shaking their head. “All she wants in the world is to take care of kits and to be a mother. But every litter she’s had…”

Antstar didn’t need Whitetooth to finish the sentence. Houndnose’s first litter had been born two springs ago. But Dustkit was a stillbirth, and Privetkit and Newtkit slowly, agonizingly succumbed to illness. Her second litter the next year was healthier, but didn’t fare better in the long run, as a fox wound up getting them.

Antstar remembered how Shalestar had asked Houndnose if she truly wanted to continue being a queen after all that. But Houndnose was insistent: Queen life was worth all the heartbreak, all the pain; and her third litter would make it, whenever it would be.

“It must be horrible,” Whitetooth said softly, a true sympathy shining in their teal-green eyes. “Having to watch what happened to your own all over again- and not be able to do a single thing about it.”

They turned to inspect Stripedwing and her kits, and upon assuring themself that the molly and her kits were all in a deep slumber, they turned, in that sort of blank way they were so masterful at, to Antstar.

“I have heard about Stoatslink’s… suspicions, yes.”

“Well.” Antstar stepped back, a touch of incredulousness as he shifted his weight from one side to another. “What in StarClan do you suppose we do?”

Whitetooth squinted slightly before wheeling around to sort a stack of herbs near the back of the main chamber. “You are my leader, Antstar. I follow your command, not the other way around.”

Antstar opened his mouth to protest, but Whitetooth turned, their eye lidded with seriousness. “I do not kill my Clanmates, sir. I am simply the agent by which they join StarClan. If you truly think I’m going to kill Stoatslink on my own volition, you are sorely mistaken.”

Kill? Antstar had said nothing about killing. But in a strange sort of way, his mind was already headed there. And then he blurted out: “I don’t want to be the one to do it!”

“Quiet!” Whitetooth hissed, snapping at their leader. For a second, Antstar glimpsed their long white canines that had gifted them their name, and he was there in Sunningrocks all over again, when that flame-pointed ThunderClan tom had threatened him. Whitetooth’s mouth was very small and slight, and looked nearly invisible when it was shut. But inside- when they opened their mouth… it was nearly all teeth. Teeth that had never been dulled by the wear and tear of warriorship. Teeth that were long but with points so small that if they were to bite into something, nobody would notice but the victim, like hypodermic needles.

Antstar’s eyes darted over to the corner of the medicine den, where Marblepaw was curled up, eyes huge and glimmering with the shine of Whitetooth’s canines.

“You are going to wake her-“ -they gestured to Stripedwing, still asleep- “-if you continue, and the Clan will not understand us. And I know from hearing things that Clan cats have no trouble kicking out leaders if they decide they are no longer worthy. Why, it could be happening right now…”

“Right now?” said Antstar. “What do you mean?” “Not here in WindClan.” They tipped their head back cryptically. “I hear of things.”

“But what do we do?” asked Antstar. “What if- StarClan damn you for making me think of it, but- what if we were to kill him?” “Outside,” said Whitetooth, their tail still flicking towards the sleeping mother and her kits. “Now. Marblepaw-“ -they turned to address their apprentice, who was still hunched over from fear- “you watch Stripedwing and her kits.”

They were on the rim above camp now, the moon across the sky staring straight upon them.

“Well, now. What do we do?”

“Well, what does Stoatslink thinks he knows?”

Antstar tried to flicker back memories of all they had learned about the white tom. He was an analytical sort, yes. But he was stubborn, and seemed to fashion himself a genius. Bull-headed. An intelligent bull? Perhaps. But still one that would charge if he saw a red cape.

“He thinks a non-Clan cat killed Sparkthistle and threw her body in the gorge as cover.”

“Good, good.” Whitetooth’s voice slowly blended into a sort of hypnotic charm as it flowed through the air. “That’s exactly what we need. Here’s what I would propose.”

They stood back and tipped their head up and ears back, as if they were disposing of rotting crowfood, and spoke.

“We can make an example of Stoatslink. He is a family-oriented fellow, but has few friends because of his flaws. If he died-“

“What are you getting at? You think we can openly kill him to ‘make an example’? Are you mad?” Whitetooth looked offended, their nose slightly wrinkling with indignance. “Not openly, you shrew-headed fellow! And, personally, I was never saner than I am now. Listen. You know what happens, when Tatteredstar makes a faulty decision?”

Antstar nodded. Recently, there had been Rosefire. But he hadn’t been the only incident. He remembered that at his first Gathering as a warrior, she had announced that an ill-advised attack on a group of kittypets had killed her deputy. There was a sort of shock at it- he had quite liked seeing the fellow in question at Gatherings when he was an apprentice. And even before that, he remembered hearing from WindClan warriors returning from a Gathering- did you hear Tatteredstar didn’t let SkyClan get the herbs they needed, due to their prey dispute? And a bunch of SkyClan cats died because of it? I have no idea why ThunderClan adores her so much…

“Now. What else would happen shortly after?”

Antstar’s mind floundered at first, but as soon as he considered Tatteredstar’s other habits his mind latched onto something. “…They would attack RiverClan, and get Sunningrocks back.”

“Bravo.” Whitetooth drew back slowly, like he was leading Antstar with a carrot on a string. “A stroke of genius, on her part. In styling a common enemy for all her Clan to be directed towards, at once it removes the eyes from her and it unites the Clan together against this new obstacle. So even if the Clan is divided at her decision- they are swiftly united again by this distraction.” “So what you’re saying is-“

“I know the cats who live just beyond our territory. I would not say they are black of heart, but they are desperate. For food, for shelter… they shall do anything to get their claws on that sort of miscellany. I can arrange with them a deal- some of my medicinal herbs for them to kill Stoatslink, and then we shall throw him into the gorge. Solidify the belief he had in a killer outside the Clans- and then send a patrol to deal with the rogues that shall still be at the border.”

They turned away back into the medicine den, hearing Dewkit weakly cry as she began to stir.

“Think upon my words, Antstar, and consider it for now. If need be- I would consider it a necessary sacrifice to keep our Clan together for the oncoming of no-leaf.”

The last days of late summer slipped by, until autumn arrived in a hazy orange mist one day about a week or two later.

WindClan’s territory had always been at her prettiest in the mist- most of all when the sun still was able to shine through and cradle it with light. The sky above was mostly clear, but pale from its dawn youth. The trees, just slightly tinged with dappled shades of ginger, were practically painted gold by the sun’s light. The last morning stars slowly winked away just beyond the horizon, and the ground was so soaked with dew that WindClan cats nearly appeared to be RiverClan.

Antstar, however, had no time to admire newborn leaf-fall. He and Whitetooth, this morning, were on a mission at dawn. He had told Russetfoot he was helping Whitetooth find herbs, as it was important to do before the plants died out.

Russetfoot had accepted, numbly, his forest-green eyes staring mournfully at a small, freshly buried patch of earth that lay just beyond camp, where the last wildflowers of the season had begun to blossom. But Russetfoot had sighed and gone on with it, announcing names for the dawn patrol- mourning, in WindClan, was rarely ever a public affair.

Whitetooth always had a strange way of moving through the grass. It was almost like a swan: their top half remained still, except for the vague movements of the haunches and the flick of the tail; their legs, however, kicked away wildly beneath them. It was at once graceful and off-putting, as Whitetooth tended to be.

They went along, from the dewy grass to the slick, cold asphalt of the Thunderpath just beyond Mothermouth. They were traveling up it, parallel to the road. Antstar felt nervousness nip at his paws- ever since Rainleap’s death, which in truth had been only a season or so ago although to Antstar it had felt like eons, he had always had second thoughts about crossing roads.

And then Whitetooth stopped. They looked one way, then another, and then slunk across the road, Antstar in tow.

They stopped at a small, craggy cave, which resembled a much smaller version of the Moonstone’s cave- but with no tunnel, and no mystic monolith either. Inside, although it was dark, Antstar could see the silhouettes of a small group of rogues. They were all emaciated, and he tried to keep his distance- he could smell the fleas from here, and it appeared at least one of them had mange.

He heard a snarl and two cats caught his attention. One was a large ginger-and-white molly with patchy fur and scars webbing her shoulders, the other a much smaller, underfed little brown tom with a white underbelly.

“So you haven’t found any prey this morning?” asked the ginger-and-white molly, her voice thick with an accent that Antstar couldn’t place.

The smaller tom shook his head. He was visibly shaking, and his ribs were defined enough that Antstar could count nearly all of them.

“You know, Whimbrel, that this is the eighth straight morning-“ “I don’t want to go out to where the Clans are!” he squeaked, his voice hoarse.

“The Clans?” She scoffed. “You’re scared of the Clans?”

Whimbrel nodded. “I didn’t-“

At once the large patched molly leapt onto Whimbrel. He tried to flee, but there was little time before she was on top of him. She beat him around, as a kit would a moss-ball, and then thrust a thick yellow claw right into his eye. Whimbrel let out a wicked screech of pain.

“That’ll teach you,” she said, giving a crooked smile. Her teeth were cracked, and a few were missing altogether. “You’ve got more to worry about than the Clans, rag-pelt.”

Antstar winced. With no medicine, that eye was going to get infected- and it was already out of the question that Whimbrel would ever see in it again.

And then- speak of herbs- Whitetooth stepped forth, their chest puffed with confidence. “Sisters, brothers! May I see the leader of this fine group? I have a proposition I am willing to make.”

Antstar had no idea how much of Whitetooth’s words were laced with sarcasm, if any of them were. Yet some of the rogues seemed to know Whitetooth already, and acknowledged their presence with a nod. Antstar knew that medics were often entangled with connections to cats outside the Clans, and with each other; he didn’t want to press the matter further than that.

A large, muscly black cat came up to them. He had a sort of youthful swagger about him which was only further punctuated by mischievous yellow eyes and a white spot just above his left lip.

‘Name’s Captain.”

Captain? Fancy name, for a rogue, Antstar thought. He wouldn’t be surprised if this cat had once been a kittypet. Whitetooth nodded and bowed slightly in greeting.

“I and my companion here are willing to arrange a deal with you, provided you are capable of upholding our end of the bargain.”

The ginger-and-white molly from before trod up beside Captain, her hazel eyes clouded with suspicion. “They smell like Clan.”

“I am aware,” Captain whispered in her ear. “Hold on a moment.” He turned back to Antstar and Whitetooth, his gaze smooth. “What is it?” “I will give you enough herbs to last two moons, as well as a position on the edge of our land,” Whitetooth began. Antstar nodded along, not wanting to interfere- or get too close to the rogues, as he watched a yellow tabby tom pry a fat tick from his shoulder. “…So long as you get rid of this rogue that has been bothering us.”

“And you’re sure you’ll hold up this bargain?” asked Captain, leaning forward with interest.

“Certain.” Whitetooth turned to Antstar. “Are you sure you want me to continue?”

For a moment, Antstar’s mind faltered. He thought of Goldenpaw and Milkpaw, who loved their father dearly. Their final apprentice assessments were to be held that quarter-moon. If he continued now… they’d have no parents at their warrior ceremony.

But it had to be done.

By God, it had to be done.

He nodded.

As Whitetooth and Captain got into the specifics- he’s a white tom, rather muscular, face like a bull terrier, yellow eyes- Antstar felt his head swirl with excuses. No, he didn’t- wasn’t going to, rather- kill Stoatslink. It wasn’t his fault. These rogues were going to kill someone anyway, right? And someone had to die to unite the Clan. He hadn’t killed Stoatslink; he didn’t kill Sparkthistle. He spoke no lies- he was solely omitting what he had to in order to keep his Clan safe. And in the long run, turning WindClan on these rogues was the right thing to do, to train them, to compel them to fight and band them together.

His mind stopped. He was at no fault, he decided. This was going to happen any other way.

“We’ll get the job done,” assured Captain, giving Whitetooth a gaze that was almost playfully roguish. Antstar wasn’t entirely sure he trusted him. “Meeting, everyone! Meeting!”

The rogues in the den gathered around the black-furred tom, their gazes wary.

“We have a deal with these two generous Clan fellows. I am aware most Clan cats are heartless bastards,” he jested, “but these two have granted us both part of their territory and medicinal herbs.”

“That’ll be great for Whimbrel’s injury here!” half-heartedly said the patched ginger and white molly. Beside her, Whimbrel was trying to wipe the blood from his face, but the more his paw rubbed the uglier the wound became. He tried harder and harder to stop the bleeding, to soothe himself; but in the end he had made a mess of it, giving up entirely as the blood seeped through his fur.

“It will be,” said Captain, flinching with disgust at the rogue’s injury. “However, we must uphold our half of the bargain. They have asked we… deal with… a white rogue who lives on their territory, who goes by the name Stoat.”

“Oh, that bastard!” said an old, thin black molly with long fangs. “Heard of him! Could have sworn he was a Clan cat, though…”

“We follow what they say, Linsky, and we don’t ask questions.” He turned back to the other rogues. “Tonight, we’ll get rid of him, so we don’t worry about having to do it later. If we all gang up on him, we’ll outnumber him. We’ll set up two groups. Towser here-“ -he indicated the patched ginger and white molly- “-will lead the first group, I’ll lead the second- as we are the best fighters after all, especially in my case.”

A large silvery tabby molly in the group rolled her eyes.

“One group will chase, the other will ambush. He’ll stand no chance. Towser, you’ll have Peg and Scamp with you; you’ll chase him down. I’ll lead the ambush group, which will be myself of course, but also Linsky, Garlic, and Whimbrel. I’ll kill the cat, of course, as I have special experience and tact-“

“You don’t,” growled the silvery tabby.

“Peg, you must have forgotten my run in with the ShadowClan patrol a few moons ago. You see, there were five of them, and one-“

“Let us leave,” said Whitetooth. “They’ll take most of it from here. And I have a queen and kits I must care for, especially after poor Mousekit’s death the other day.”

The day seemed to take forever.

Antstar felt like he was going to vomit every time he caught sight of Goldenpaw and Milkpaw. Even though he had mostly trained himself now into accepting that Stoatslink’s sealed fate was fixed, and that he had no true hand in it, his gut disagreed with his brain.

What would be, would be.

He took solace in Whitetooth’s confidence, at least- if that’s what you could call it. Nothing about the pale-furred medic seemed to indicate any sense of wrongness, or even that something different was about to occur that night. Hell, ever since even before Sparkthistle had died, they had looked the same way; acted the same way.

Medics were close to StarClan- and if Whitetooth hadn’t been smote down by StarClan themselves the last time they had visited the Moonstone and trod upon StarClan’s own divine territory, Antstar had to be fine.

Goldenpaw and Milkpaw, meanwhile, seemed to be having a fairly average day. The wound Goldenpaw had received in the massive Sunningrocks battle had nearly healed, although it left a scar that twisted and snaked around her flank and leg like a tangled vine. It had been her first hunting patrol since, as Whitetooth had only released her from their care the other night. She was the only moor runner apprentice, now. Twigpaw had moved on to his tunneler training after he had gotten the basics of hunting and fighting, and Shadeflower’s litter had graduated. Antstar wondered if the small catch she brought- only a small, scrawny whinchat- had to do with the lack of recent training since the injury, or the fact she had no competition she could brag about her catch to.

Coalclaw had been on the hunting patrol also, his face seemingly-permanently twisted into what Antstar could only describe to himself as something between numbness and far-off horror. Rockscratch, who was the one who had dragged the dark gray tabby along, had hoped that a hunting patrol would lift Coalclaw’s spirit and “get him back into a fightin’ mood”, but Coalclaw seemed almost too dazed to catch prey, even missing out on a rather clumsy red grouse that his sister Spiderfoot caught without even having to think about it. At one moment, Coalclaw was able to catch a young hare that had been chased around to him by the other members in the patrol; but as soon as he was told to clamp down on its neck and kill it, he started to cry in an ugly, desperate way, and yet again Spiderfoot had to finish the job for him. It’s only a hare, his patrol members told him, it’s only a hare, they are living but they are our food and they live through us, but he could not stop crying and staring into the crimson of its blood, and eventually Webwhisker had had to bring Coalclaw early, where he resumed his usual position sitting at the edge of camp towards sunset; still as a stone but haunted by something within.

“Something’s wrong with him,” Rockscratch said, with an air of sympathy but also a slight twinge of annoyance, like he was inspecting a tear in a well-loved coat of his. “We have to figure out how to fix it. I quite liked how he used to be.”

Milkpaw, meanwhile, was quite successful as a tunneler. While traditionally, a tunneler’s job was dependent on hearing, a trait Milkpaw lacked, her other senses brought a new understanding to the job. She could not hear, but her eyesight was excellent even in the thick, clammy darkness of the tunnels, and she had a sense of motion in the ground that only the finest tunnelers could really tap into. It was understood that tunnelers had longer training periods than their above-ground counterparts, but tunnelers generally got their warrior names around the time they had learned all of the basics and not when their training had truly finished. A tunneler’s leaning never ends,they reasoned when asked about why, as it was rather silly to everyone else.

That’s what terrified Antstar the most. The warrior ceremony. If Stoatslink really was to die, those two would have neither of their parents at their warrior ceremony. He supposed he knew how it felt to not have any parents to begin with… but to have them, and lose them, was a cruelty Antstar felt like he’d never really comprehend, just as he never had anything to say to Russetfoot’s wild grief about his children slowly beginning to slip away.

He didn’t want to cause that. Goldenpaw and Milkpaw had done nothing wrong. The idea of naming his victim’s children made him sick.

But he reminded himself. It wasn’t his fault, it wasn’t him; it could never be him. The rogues by the Moonstone were going to be a problem. Perhaps some wandering patrol would run into them; even worse, perhaps they would see the medicine cats entering Mothermouth as a threat. They were going to kill some cat eventually. And he didn’t make the deal, nor did he tip them off- that had been Whitetooth. All he had been was there, due to absolutely nothing besides Fate and her wicked talons.

And he couldn’t simply expose Whitetooth, no. Whitetooth was the sole trained medic in WindClan; it would be a few moons before Marblepaw could even think about what her medic name might be. A Clan without a medic would be a death sentence, especially in the coming no-leaf season. And Whitetooth might turn on Antstar, which really wouldn’t be good for anyone.

Besides- as much as he felt wrong for admitting it, as much as he knew Whitetooth was a killer- he only truly felt calm, or perhaps the closest thing he knew to calm, by the white-and-brown cat’s side. There was something about their rich, dark voice; their eyes with pupils nearly always slit like a pocketknife had cut through the teal surface; their silent steps, their confidence. It wasn’t a romantic attraction, no. But it was like they were two souls, bound together by the limbs and thrown over the river; each pushing the other towards a direction only Hell and Heaven knew of.

The day was slow, but the night came quick.

“Stoatslink,” said Antstar as he approached the bullish white tom- he tried to sound confident- “I need to tell you about something. About what you said, regarding… you know.”

Stoatslink said no words, but nodded. At once he understood.

Thought he understood, rather.

“There’s a pack of rogues on the border,” Antstar began, his voice weary and hesitant like the first frost of a season. “I don’t know how many there are. But I am nearly certain they are the ones that may have killed Sparkthistle. You were right, Stoatslink.”

There was a moment of idle hesitation, and Antstar could see Stoatslink’s expression flicker between horror at the suggested reality and a strange, smug sort of pride.

“I’ll kill them,” the white tom grumbled. “I’m run them straight through. Nobody messes with WindClan. By the time I’ll be done with them, you won’t be able to tell they were ever feline.”

Antstar hoped to God and back that Stoatslink’s death would be quick, and that Captain’s group knew what they were doing. He knew he himself couldn’t take the white tom on in a fight- especially not with this attitude.

“That is why I want you, and you alone, to watch over the camp tonight. I hardly expect they’ll attack us. But just in case- I want you to sound the alarm.”

“Only me?” Stoatslink scoffed. His breath smelled like dried hare meat. “But what if they do attack?”

“Then the Clan will know about it,” continued Antstar. “And if the Clan knows about it, they’ll panic.”

“Rightfully so! They-“

“Do you want your daughters to live in fear or not!?!” Antstar yelled in a whisper. He realized he had never felt his voice go harsh like that before- at least, not since he had been a moody kit in the nursery.

But it was effective. Stoatslink backed down. His mouth opened up, as if another word had to escape his snout- and then, sensing he had no argument to speak of, it clicked shut like a music box with no coil left.

“I’ll do what I can, Antstar. And trust me- if they approach, the rogues won’t stand a chance.”

Antstar watched as the white tom sauntered away. He tended to sway about when he walked, like a basset hound; but from the way his shoulder blades perked up Antstar could see the purpose burning in his brain. Then, another white figure approached- Whitetooth, as smooth as ever. Antstar watched as the white cat took Stoatslink aside- or, really, rather just brushed him near, effortlessly; like a breeze guiding leaves. They whispered something in Stoatslink’s ear and threw a few glances.

This was all part of the plan. Whitetooth would convince the ever-bullish Stoatslink that Antstar was being too nice, that Antstar was underestimating him, and rile him up into a fury against these rogues. That way, Stoatslink would charge when he saw them, not caring to alert the Clan in a false belief he could manage on his own- and, therefore, charge into his own death.

It was a simple plan.

It was an awful thing to know.

It had to be done. For WindClan.

Perhaps Whitetooth sensed Antstar’s doubt. For as soon as Stoatslink set off, his vision cloaked in red, they slunk up to their leader and sat next to them, only for a moment whispering something into Antstar’s flattened ear:

“Rest assured, Antstar, this is needed. All of it is. You are doing what you can to keep your clan safe. Elsewise… evil would prosper in your failure.”

[tallstars-rewrite]

Chapter 42

chapter list / previous / next

Jake was a bit nervous leaving Talltail curled in on himself in the Thunderpath tunnel. Talltail luckily didn’t appear significantly burned, but a sharp stone had left a jagged gash in his front leg that may have been singed with embers as well. Jake didn’t know how bad it was. He wasn’t experienced enough with this sort of thing to know, up until then the house cat hadn’t been used to injuries worse than a couple claw scratches. What was it that Talltail had mentioned being good for infection? To stop bleeding? Could Jake possibly apply a clan cat’s gift for healing remedies? Oh why hadn’t he paid closer attention when Talltail talked about his medicine cat friends magic plants?

Lets see, gold-something…? Merry gold was it? What did that look like again? Well, it had to be golden colored, surely. He scanned one side of the surrounding forest, then the other. Ok, there were no golden plants around. Jake had never even bothered learning all the names of plants, they all looked the same, they were just plants for star's sake, how was he meant to tell them apart? 

There were some yellow flowers that grew outside his home, but he didn’t really want the housefolk to see him right now. His paws felt suddenly heavy with a sharp flash of sadness as thoughts of Dusty and Cris flitted across his mind. He shook his head. Nope, not now, now wasn’t the time to wrestle with the heavy weight of that loss. In a small way, despite the predicament he was in with Talltail, he was relieved to have something he could do to take his mind off it. Something other than wandering alone in that far too empty house… It would never feel the same again without Dusty. 

Maybe that’s another sign that this is where I'm meant to be right now...Now if only I could find a more helpful sign to point me in the direction of merry-golds.

Feeling hopelessly lost and overwhelmed by the plants and trees that all looked identical and green and useless, there was no choice but to do what he always did when he didn’t know what path to take. Just follow his gut. ...Not that that had done him much good recently other than get him into trouble, and run straight into a bunch of very rude “ShadowClan” kits with an apparent blood-lust.

But that was just one time, what were the odds of it turning out that badly again? Jake was absolutely not about to let something as small as “having absolutely no idea where he was or what he was doing” stop him from helping a cat that he cared for. So, with that newfound surge of (possibly undeserved) confidence, Jake took a breath and closed his eyes and focused. Which direction felt right? 

...Right...? Yes, ‘right’ seems like a good direction. So, right he went.

 One of his front paws stung horribly where he’d trodden on an ember the night before. He never thought fire would be so painful. No wonder Talltail had feared it so much when Jake first showed him his fireplace. He chased the stinging away from his mind, now was not the time to start fretting over a little pain. He would not think about it, he would only think about golden flowers, and how everything would be ok as soon as he found them. 

A sharp scent hit the roof of his mouth and made his lips curl. It was familiar, though he couldn’t place his paw on what it was exactly. A looming sense of danger flooded through him from nose to tail tip, making his bright ginger fur bristle. He didn’t have time to search through his memory before his question was answered for him. A russet red muzzle poked its way out of the bushes. 

By the stars, you can’t be serious…

It was a fox. A familiar fox at that, like the one he’d pathetically swiped at before running for cover several days before. A fox investigating the remains of a forest fire for unsuspecting prey without cover. It blinked at him curiously with hungry amber-ish eyes. Jake didn’t know any better how to deal with a fox now then he did then. But he was also hyper aware of how close he still was to the tunnel, and how easy cat scent would be to track back. 

It was a stupid thing he was about to do, and he knew that, but louder then his instincts to run up the nearest tree was an overwhelming flare of anger at this predator. There was no way, after everything he’d been through, that something like this could ruin everything now. The fox took another step towards him, it’s eyes alight like a kitten eyeing a helpless baby bird. 

Jake puffed up all his orange fur and screeched at the fox as loud and as fiercely as he could. “Listen here you dung-breathed flea-brained rat-faced bastard, I have had a really bad last couple days and I am not letting you go anyway near that Thunderpath or anywhere near me! You think you're tough? I’m not scared of you! I dare you to come closer!” 

Jake lashed out a paw, yowling and spitting, and the fox looked taken aback at how this very much alone cat was not acting at all as it should. It seemed puzzled as to how it should go about hunting something that it wasn’t chasing. Jake lashed out again and caught it on the tip of the nose. The fox yelped and snapped at Jake, who barely jumped out of the way before raising both his unsheathed paws up, claws flashing in the early morning light. The fox wasn’t really so much taller than him. It snapped again and caught Jake on the shoulder. It tried to shake him and Jake twisted around in its jaws, hoping his skin wouldn’t tear, and bit it hard on the snout just below it’s eye and stuck his claws above its other eye, sinking them in as deep as he could manage. The fox, now facing the prospect of blinding itself, flung Jake to the side. The house cat saw stars as his head cracked against a tree and he landed with a thump in a pile of wet charred leaves, but he was back on his paws and hissing just as fast, driven solely by adrenaline which was thankfully staving off the worst of pain. His instincts warned him well enough to not show any sign that he was hurt. 

“Try it again! You don’t scare me!” he screamed.

 The fox took a step back, perhaps deciding at last that cat prey really wasn’t worth this much trouble. Letting out one last angry yowl, Jake lunged forward and the predator jumped back and loped away into the bushes to search out prey with duller claws. Jake slowly sat back on his haunches and licked the new wound in his shoulder. It was bleeding more than he thought and his head was spinning. He was dizzy and suddenly aware of how much he hurt now that the adrenaline was wearing off. He sat with his head pressed against his forepaws for a while, trying to convince himself to get up again. 

Flowers. Golden flowers. You need to find those flowers. If they aren’t here, maybe in the twoleg gardens? But what if I pick up the wrong ones? There are so many yellow flowers! I’m hopeless!

While crouched on the ground, he thought he heard the sound of a fox's yelp followed by a furious yowl somewhere off in the woods, but he was still dizzy and couldn’t even be sure whether or not he imagined it. If that fox decided to come back, he really would be in trouble. But there was a new scent that warned another animal was nearby again. This scent was distinctly not fox. Jake shot his head up and got to his paws, trying not to sway. What else was going to go wrong today?

It seemed to come from nowhere, a once again familiar and unpleasant muddy taste, similar to a dead rat's fur. The taste that clung to those ShadowClan brutes. He froze in his tracks and whipped around, his greatest fear was realized in the pair of fierce orange eyes narrowed at him from a raised gnarled root. He hadn’t even heard the cat approach, but there she was, hunched with one eye squinted. She was big and stormy gray with long messy fur that could certainly use a good grooming. Deep scars that warned of experience from many past battles were carved into her face and pelt, striking through the tufted murky fur. The way she hunched over and her long, faintly yellowed teeth that stuck out of her mouth at a funny angle made her seem old at first, but looking closer showed there was no out of place silver of age. No, she was much younger than he’d originally thought, but there was an aged look to her hard fire colored eyes that felt wise beyond her apparent years.

 Jake fought the urge to shrink away as she studied him closely. He stood frozen, his fur still standing on end as he tried to think what to do. Taking a peaceful approach hadn’t worked out so well last time he ran into these cats… Try to run? He wasn’t very fast even on a good day, and in his condition, he’d be caught easily. Could he threaten her like he had the fox? There is no way a cat like that is going to be threatened by me! But if she attacked him now, he would attack back if he had to. Nothing would stop him from getting back to Talltail, no matter how battle trained this clan cat was. 

But her fur didn’t bristle with aggression, in fact, she hardly moved at all. She looked like she was sunning herself, unconcerned and blinking calmly at him. When Jake thought he could not handle the tension a second longer, she finally spoke in a steady raspy voice.

“You look lost, kittypet. A puny chewed up wad of fur like you is pretty easy prey for a fox. Or so I would have thought. ‘Looked like you had some kind of death wish, picking a fight like that.” She grinned, showing her long front teeth more clearly. “It won’t be bothering us again by the way, but I suspect you have greater things to worry about.”

Jake eventually let out the breath he was holding. At this point he was more exhausted and exasperated than afraid. “Are you going to try and kill me too?” 

To his immense relief, the molly shook her head, a rumbling purr of laughter escaping her throat. “No, I couldn’t be bothered. But my clanmates may feel different. They are rather tense right now. You didn’t even notice the scent lines, did you?”

He hadn’t, but he’d been rather distracted.

 “I haven’t time for scent lines!” he argued. “And if you’re gonna be nice enough not to kill me, I just need some merry gold I think, and uh….cobweb, I don’t know what that plant looks like though...you wouldn’t happen to know, would you m’am? I’m in a big hurry and I promise I'll get out of your fur as soon as I can.”

“Cobweb isn’t a plant, it’s just spider's web.”

“Oh...literal spider web? I thought it was a weird plant name...Look, I just want to help my friend before anything else happens, you see--”

“Yes, I know. Don’t worry, he hasn’t moved from beneath the Thunderpath.”

Jake felt himself bristle again. How did she know where Talltail was? Who else knew? I shouldn't have left him alone!

“Relax kittypet," she purred, clearly sensing his immediate panic. "I have no war with your companion. Quite the opposite in fact. Running into me was quite good luck on your part.”

“I was just following my gut. I didn’t know where else to go. I know that sounds silly...”

She shrugged. “I do a similar thing sometimes. But when you're a medicine cat, you call it following the signs of StarClan. Mind you, that doesn’t mean it’s always a good idea. But sometimes it works out for the best. The name’s Ratfang by the way.”

“Ratfang? That doesn’t sound like a very nice name,” he said before he thought better of it.

Her thankfully amused purr rattled strangely in her throat. “I have little use for vanity.” Ratfang got up and stretched casually, her frighteningly long hooked claws sinking into the bark of the root she perched on. “Anyway, I have what you need. Trust me, you’ll make a mess of things if you try to do this on your own. Let's get going then, shall we?”

Jake was stunned. “Wait--you… you really want to help me? How did you know what I needed?”

Ratfang stared deeply into his eyes, suddenly looking very serious. “Why, I know everything, kittypet. My StarClan given powers show me clear visions of the future.”

Jake stared at her in wonder. “Wow...really? You can really see the future that clearly?”

Ratfang broke her composure and laughed. “Of course not!  I’m just messing with you. Imagine StarClan making anything clear. If only my job were that easy! I simply scented strange cats around our territory before sunrise and thought I would investigate. I tracked you to the tunnel earlier, saw you both looked a mess, and went to fetch what I figured you’d need. It’s part of the medicine cats code to help injured cats, even if they aren’t from my clan.”

Jake was a little embarrassed that he’d been so keen on protecting Talltail yet he hadn’t noticed some cat had already apparently found their hiding place. However, that also meant if the ShadowClan cat meant to hurt them, she could have easily done so already.

 “Well, I really do appreciate it.” He hastily dipped his head to her. “My name's Jake by the way, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Ratfang bent to pick up a large leaf stuffed with sharp smelling plants that had been folded neatly between her forepaws, then she leaped off the gnarled root and began back down the path from where Jake had come without pausing. Her response was muffled through the bundle she now carried. “Well Jake, I hope meeting you will be a pleasure as well. But we will have to see.”

chapter list / previous / next

[familyagrestefanblog]

Ml analysis: Native American miracle box

While is it obvious that the new miracle box is of native American origin I still went to do some research on it to see if I can narrow it down to a certain tribe and find more connections hidden in the lore.

So not to waste any time, here is my result:

The native American miracle box is in possession of the Souix Lakota tribe. Just like with the Ml Tibetan guardian monks represent not only 1 but 4 groups, the native American Miraculous tribe is a combination of the Lakota, Dakota and Nakota and where we can safely say that the monks will primarily lean towards the Tibet representation, I would say here we will primarily lean towards the Lakota. Therefore, I will call the native America Miraculous tribe Lakota but know that the other two tribes are included in this as well.

So a dead giveaway for the identity of the ml Tribe is Jessicas Shirt. In general Jessica has the hairstyle, the physical features and the accessories typical for representing an “Indian” character and her shirt is a direct confirmation of that heritage.

On her shirt is an obvious reference to the Lakota flag which pretty much tells us that this is the Tribe we are dealing with. Nice, why cant it always be this easy?

Under the cut I cover three more points to go into more detail, read more if you’re interested ^^

1. The medicine wheel

I must give it to miraculous, using the medicine wheel for the upper layer of the miracle box is one genius move imo.

The Medicine Wheel is a sacred symbol and way of life used by the indigenous Plains tribes to represent all knowledge of the universe. Unfortunately, I don’t have enough time to really get into its teaching and living ways to be comfortable explaining its practice in more details, so in this part I want to cover only what has been directly acknowledged by Thomas Astruc. And that would be the animals (duh, obviously) and the elements.

The first thing I had to learn the hard way in this research is that there is not one "true" way for this symbol to be arranged. The way its used, what animal belongs to which color or element and even what KIND of animal is in it can vary STRONGLY from location to location.

So I accepted that the arrangement can not be pinpointed down to perfect accuracy through research. We were already given all the animals and colors, now all I can really do here is present to you a possible variation of the miraculous arrangement I put together after looking up and trying to understand the differences between the real life ones to continue from here on.

There are only two animals we know for sure the connected color of: The eagle, Jessicas miraculous of freedom and the Thunderbird. In his tweets Thomas mentioned the elements so I decided to include them in the arrangement, how or if they will be incorporated into the show I can not tell you though. But still I wanted the elements in here as well ^^

As already said, the eagle is red and the thunderbird is in the green center. As you can see I put the bear to black, the Wolf to yellow and the Buffalo to white. Those seemed to me the most likely combinations and even if they don’t end up right, it wont do harm to any of this.

Buffalo: white and air because the Lakota have a white Buffalo woman legend where air was one of the main elements she controled and used.

Wolf: yellow and fire. Fire because in Lakota legends the wolf/ coyote is a very unpredictable animal. He's both a trickster and a hero, not always moraly sound but always clever. It's a dangerous but strong and lively nature that I do think the show could represent with the fire element. Yellow is one of the two cases where I was left with this option by default.

Bear: I choose black and water because that's a combination I have seen the most

Eagle: I already know Red and choose earth in combination. At first I thought about putting fire in this place because of its normal association with red but in the end choose earth because I think it's the element that fits the best to Jessica.

But the reason why I decided to include the elements is because of the green thunderbird in the middle. Because where the other 4 animals are connected with the 4 elements, the thunderbird would here represent inner balance and harmony. Of course this isn't it's power, but the layout makes it quite obvious that the thunderbird is the equivalent of the ladybugs and cats yin-yang. My assumption right now is that this is how the show will cover the different types of "balance" although the world cultures it incorporates, but let me come back to this one another time.

2. more cultural references and meanings

The thunderbird represents the most powerful one of this miracle box because the thunderbird is the one animal that is present in every Souix Lakota tribe and holds an enormous cultural and spiritual significance. It is a mythological bird and is associated with several legends starting from controlling the storms, lightnings and thunder to being the protector of the humans and even being a helper of the creation of reality (Reality in Ml are the LB and Cat hence why its place in the middle of the box is well deserved) It only makes sense that it would be chosen for this and I know it may seem cliché but please hear me out, which is why im convinced this is the miraculous of the chiefs.

A couple of details do support this for me but please remember I'm not exposed to alot of native American cultures I'll do my best to get things right but if I do interpret something(s) wrong feel free to correct me.

For one, well, the symbol. While looking up the clothing for a later point I did see a symbol like this on some of the feather headdresses.

Definitely not on all of them, I couldn't figure out if there is a system behind the pattern usage or tied to a distinct area but I do know that it is THERE and not exactly rarely either. Noticeably it isn't a 1 to 1 fit but that is an all time returning thing in miraculous. Real life and historical things like this have to be slightly altered for the show to be able to incorporate them. A great example for this is the old English flag in "Darkblade".

So at this point I'm used to this pattern, so yeah, this could very likely be a symbol they took inspiration from.

The second reason why I think it it's the miraculous of the chiefs is because the piece with the symbol on it looks like one of these

In combination with the feather on it. The feather headdress is also called a war bonnet and was originally only worn in battles and only by the person who has truly earned that honor. Each feather represents a distinct honor earned in battle which is why we see feather headdresses in such different lengths. How this translates perfectly into a miraculous I think is obvious. The headdress is a symbol of true leadership and worthiness of such a status, hence why it were especially the chiefs to earn such impressive ones. Turning it into a miraculous wouldn't change too much about it since such a powerful miraculous is an honor and duty you have to be worthy of as well. Them being originally used only for battles is a perfect fit too, because so are the miraculous.

Then of course once again, the thunderbird.

The thunderbird being the great mythical protector animal of these tribes makes it naturally a perfect fit for the miraculous animal of the great chiefs. The chiefs were not only the leaders they also were the primary warrior in battles which is seen by the war bonnets. Having the Thunderbird be the miraculous of the chiefs highlights their status as the tribes protector in such a genuine way, I personally really really love it.

As the last point of 2. I want to bring up the outside top of the Miracle box and the way its designed. While looking through the clothing symbols and pattern I did notice some that looked similar to the ones on the box. I deliberately tried to find a more recent example of usage because in the end of the day Miraculous is a show for TODAY so if the show used patterns for example that may not have been used in the past but are now associated with the Lakota that’s still valid. So the possible matches for design inspiration I found stem from a picture of chief Arvol Lookinghorse who holds the responsibility of spiritual leader among the Lakota, Dakota and Nakota People to this day.

3. Their location and monuments

Researching the lakota made me think of where this guardian group has its roots, which made me remember something I found on my guardian mountain - mount kailash theory a while ago (I swear right now everything comes back to that theory). In it I showed you the monuments-line around the world always separated by a length of 6666km between each other (basically the height of Mount Kailash) and while I didn't mention it there, there is also one of those "mythical" monuments in the USA.

The bears lodge butte (in Wyoming)

I mean LOOK at this, that is out of this world and breath-taking in every sense of the word! That is a location of a miraculous guardianship if I had ever seen one. Also known under the (sadly) much more well known name of "Devils tower" but this will be the one and only time you will read of me calling it like that. The fact that this butte is still officially called by this disrespectful and bastardized white peoples name is a freaking insult. I'm calling it the bears lodge as this was its original english name.

The bears lodge is not just a monument in the USA it is the VERY FIRST official monument (1906) and the location of the butte also checks out perfectly with the areas the Lakota settled in real life. I couldn’t get the exact scale but I think you will still understand just fine.

Adding to the Bears Lodge butte I also wanna bring up the "other" medicine wheel. Which is, just like Bears lodge, located in Wyoming.

As we know the rest of the native American miracle box is made of the zodiac signs just like in our normal miracle box. Confirmed not only on Twitter but also in the very intro of the New York special.

But the same way the miracle box is similar to ours the Medicine wheel as monument reminded me of something as well. Of course I'm talking about the ritual circle in the Kwami "dimension" of the box seen in “Sandboy”.

And just like the native American monument it is also of "astronomical" nature. Taking a closer look at the Chinese Kwami circle one can see that the outer ring is made of specific places for each Kwami signified with a picture of their "animal".

And in the inner circle is obviously the moon circulation.

Meaning, put very simple, this is a design specifically meant to represent the Chinese calendar and culture this miracle box is based on. Therefor this should also exist for the native american one. My guess Is that for all the boxes/cultures Miraculous is gonna include they will also have an “ritual circle” equivalents for each based on all the different kinds of stone circle monuments around the world, including the medicine wheel of the Lakota.

But not only was the medicine wheel monument used for astronomical purposes, with it the people wanted to give things back to mother nature. They placed things right in the middle of the wheel under the stones so nature could take it back "spiritually" (for a lack of a better word on my part) through their rituals and chants. Which is something once again similar to what we see with the Kwamis.

First if all, when the Kwamis (who are the embodiments of the abstract concepts reality is made of) enter their "dimension" in the miracle box the guardian symbol opens right at the center point, letting them cross the layers of reality.

Second, the Kwamis are obviously able to take material objects with them to the in-between dimension. Supporting and verifying the Lakota’s ritual because at the very least in the ML world its actually true. And thirdly, when the Kwamis try to reach Nooroo they chant as well and once again the collected energy is combined in the middle to cross the layers of reality. Gabriel is transformed though so he, as Hawkmoth, is able to almost take over the connection and therefore the miracle box if the Kwamis hadn’t blocked him.

This shows that the spiritual dimension layers are interactive from both sides under certain circumstances. A normal human being wouldn’t be able to cross the layers and take control like this but the more a person is involved with/ powered up by the miraculous the more power they hold interdimensional. Which is the idea of a ritual to reach the spiritual side of nature brought to a new 11 as TV shows usually do.

 4. The design of the guardian.

I'm definitely not the right person to properly judge this in depth therefore I will just showcase my opinion based on the research.

The way I see it for the guardians design they tried to combine the guardian "look" with the native American one.

The pants, staff and robe-like upper part are obviously influenced by the guardian we already saw through Fu's flashbacks, whereas the colors, the hairstyle and shoes (etc) are kept more Lakota-like. Though, as far as my opinion counts in this, the much darker skin and the eyebrows in comparison to Jessica does make me question if he is supposed to represent the same native American tribes as her. His bushy eyebrows are a physical characteristic I recognize in rarely any real life photos and neither did I notice such a noticeable difference in skin color.

Jessica and the guardian simply do not really look like they are of the same heritage to me, but again, who am I to say this isn't a legit representation? Besides that, it makes alot more sense that this guardian wasn't lost for almost 200 years like the ones in Tibet, so it is a fair option to consider that this black guardian may not be of "original Lakota heritage" but he is simply a worthy man born in this area of the USA (who knows in what year considering the guardians life spans) who was chosen and trained for the guardianship simply because he was the right fit for it just like Marinette.

I think it's only fair to consider that option as well, especially since we have NO official background on him. But that's just my opinion.

 And as the last thing I want to bring up is the symbol on his robe because this is something I'm going to need help with.

We can hardly see it and I've tried my best to find something in my research but I just couldn't find anything fitting.

If anybody has the means and knows if this is a cultural reference as well, I would appreciate it if this knowledge could be shared here as well. I really would love to know ^^

[bangtanreadingcorner]

despite it all • park jimin

chapter 2 — soft spot

plot – when you finally go to the bar on 17th street, it's not for help.

words – 3.1K

chapter 1

For a long time you thought you would never take Jimin up on his offer to go to the bar on 17th Street.

Then the day came that you did.

***

Things go back to normal for a few weeks after the night you helped Jimin. You go to work and for the most part it's easy to put that night out of your mind. Then there's the hours when you can't sleep or you don't have a shift, and it all comes rushing back. You visit your dad's grave and you tell him about Jimin, asking if he'd be mad at you for helping him. You don't talk to your mother, she never could forgive you for becoming a first responder.

Three weeks after that night, you get called to the scene of a gunshot victim in an alley. You and your partner Jeongguk immediately start to help him. Or you try to, at least. He's so young, no older than eighteen or nineteen.

"Come on, kid, hold on!" You mutter under your breath as you try to stop the bleeding. You look at Jeongguk, who looked at the victim with wide eyes, face pale. "Hey! Snap out of it! We need to get fluids in him, start a saline and blood line."

You work on him for almost fourty minutes before he's gone. Your gloved hands and shirt are drenched in blood. You sit back on your heels, a sense of defeat coming over you. You take a second to pull yourself together before you reach over to close his eyes, sending Jeongguk to get a blanket to cover him with, and that's when you see it.

The outline of a tattoo on the left side of his neck. Your blood runs cold and you hope that you're wrong. You reach out with shaky fingers, turning his head just a little, to get a full view of the tattoo. You suck in a deep breath when you see it.

A serpent.

You were right. This kid is in the same gang that Jimin is in.

"Funny, isn't it?" A voice asks above you.

You look up, and the badge around his neck tells you he's a cop. You frown slightly at him, "Who are you?"

"Detective Choi, Gang Unit."

"Well, Detective, I don't see anything funny about this situation." You are tempted to glare at the man.

"They spend their days breaking the law, hurting people and then expect to be helped when they get shot as a result of their own actions." He said, sneering down at the body.

"They're still people." You say, heart twisting at the man's careless words.

"Barely." The detective scoffed, looking down at the body with interest, pointing down at it. "But this one. He was important."

You don't understand what a kid has to do with all of this as you frown crossly up at the detective. "He's just a kid."

"Yeah, but he's a Park." The detective says, a glint of excitement in his eyes. It makes anger stir inside of you. "Park Jihyun, in fact. Second in line to the most dangerous gang in the province."

"So, what? Because of that he doesn't deserve to live?" You scoff in disbelief as Jeongguk returns and start to cover the body. Before the press could arrive and take pictures and videos for the six o'clock news.

The detective shrugs, "I'm just saying, no one will cry over his death."

"You just said he has a family. I'm sure they will." You remind him.

The Detective shakes his head, "No, they're not gonna cry. They're gonna go to war."

"And what? You're going to use the war to catch his brother? While he's grieving? Seems a little cold." You say as you push to your feet. You could see Jeongguk frowning as he looked back and forth between you and the detective.

"I figured I'd give them a taste of their own medicine."

"Are you going to tell that to his brother when you notify him?" You retort, mentally yelling every kind of curse you could possible think of at him.

"I'm not going to tell him."

Your mouth drops open in shocked disbelief, appalled by the detective. "What? You have too. You're bound by law."

"They don't follow the law. Why should I extend them that courtesy?" He shrugs.

"Because his family will be worried sick! And you're a cop!" You exclaim, voice rising a little.

"I'm counting on it." The detective grins before walking away.

You clench your hands into fists, an overwhelming urge to hit the detective coming over you. You look at Jeongguk, who still seemed out of it. You frown at him, he's never reacted like this to seeing someone being shot before. "Hey, are you okay, Jeongguk?"

"Yeah," He nods quickly, a little too quick, but you don't say anything. "Just, his family . . .

they deserve to know."

"They do." You agree immediately. "And I'm going to make sure they find out."

Jeongguk's head whips to you, curious and kind of relieved. "How?"

"I know this guy, he's in the same gang as the kid is, or was."

For a second, Jeongguk looks amused. "You know a guy in a gang."

"Shut up." You feel you're cheeks burn, suddenly feeling shy. "And yes, I do. His name is Jimin and I helped him out once. He told me that if I ever need something to go to the bar on 17th Street. I may not need something, but I figure he would probably be able to tell Jihyun's family."

You turn to Jeongguk, who went quiet by your side. His eyes was open wide again, but this time there was a sliver of fear in them. "A guy named Jimin, who is in the same gang as the kid with a bar on 17th Street?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Nothing." Jeongguk all but squeaks, shaking his head furiously, eyes still wide.

You side eye him, "You're judging me for doing this, aren't you? Meh. Whatever. They deserve to know. I'm telling them."

***

After your shift, you immediately go to the bar on 17th Street. It was a nice, casual kind of place. On another day, you could see yourself having a drink there. You look around and you don't see Jimin, so you head to the bar to ask for him.

The bartender is tall and buff. And gives off a scary vibe with his tattoos and the emotionless expression on his face. You notice the same serpent tattoo Jimin has on his neck, on the bartender's forearm. This guy is probably your best bet on finding Jimin.

"Uh, hi, I'm looking for Jimin." You blurt at the bartender, who is busy wiping down the counter. You feel a flush rising on your cheeks. That sounded so demanding.

"Who's asking?" The bartender asks without look

"Y/N."

That gets the bartender's attention. He stops wiping the counter and looks at your with sparkling eyes, a boxy smile breaking the blank look on his face, making him look more like a puppy as he shakes his curls out of his eyes, "So, you're Y/N."

You're caught off guard by the fact that he seems to know you. It makes you a little defensive, "What does that mean?"

"It's means you're the girl, or woman, who saved Jimin." He says, looking like the cat who ate the canary.

Your cheeks heat up even more, "I didn't save him, just helped him out."

"The cops and the gang who he went after by himself, like the dumbass he is, was after him. If he was alone that night, he would have been killed. Or worse." The bartender tells you, restarting his task of wiping the counter, but there's only one thing that registers in your mind.

"I helped a fugitive?" You yelp, feeling your heart stutter in shock.

The bartender frowned at you, "I thought Jimin said you know who he is."

"I know he's in a gang."

The bartender stops in wiping the counter, looking at you with scarily serious eyes. "Y/N, Jimin isn't in the gang, he leads the gang."

Your mouth drops open and it feels dry. "I helped a gang leader, who is also a fugitive?"

"Aren't you one for the history books." Taehyung notes with a boxy grin.

"Not exactly something I'd like to be remembered for." You tell him, legs feeling weak all of a sudden.

"Eh, apples, oranges." The bartender shrugged, putting down his cloth. "I love strawberries, by the way. Anyway, my name is Taehyung. I'm Jimin's best friend and second in command, in case you were wondering. You said you're looking Jimin right? Well, he's busy right now, but he did say to call him right away if you ever come, so, I'll go get him for you."

And with that, the bartender - Taehyung - disappeared. You looked after him in bewilderment, "What the fuck?"

Less than five minutes later, Jimin walked out from the door where Taehyung disappeared into. He looked different from the last time you saw him. He was wearing black skinny jeans with a black polo neck sweater and a black leather jacket. He looked more dangerous than when he was covered in blood. More attractive, too. You very carefully cut that train of thought off before it could grow roots. You watched as everyone in the bar eyed Jimin, but also gave him a wide berth.

When he stopped infront of you, his features softened ever so slightly. You frowned down at his clenched, bloodied fists, "Have you been punching people again?"

"Punching people is in my job description." Jimin answered, jaw visibly tensed. He looked at you, and you could tell right then that something is very wrong. "You are always welcome here, Y/N, but right now I'm a little busy. One of my men has been taken and I am trying to find him."

You face falls and suddenly a lot of things make sense. "I think . . . I think I might know where he is."

Confusion falls over Jimin's face, "You? How could you know?"

"I had a call today. Gunshot victim in an alley. He had that tattoo-" You point to Jimin's neck, where his serpent tattoo is. "And I wanted to come and tell you. I mean, I didn't know if you know everyone in your gang, I didn't every know that it is your gang, until Taehyung told me just now, but I just wanted to tell you in case you knew him."

Jimin looks at you with wide eyes, a spark of light returning to those cold eyes. "What did he look like?"

"Uh, he was young. I didn't really notice much else, sorry. I was trying to save his life." You tell Jimin, and then something occurs to you. "Wait, one of the detectives on the scene told me his name. I don't know how they know but-"

"His name." Jimin interrupted, a little sharp, but there was an urgency to his voice.

"Uh. Jihyun. Park Jihyun." You tell him, watching as Jimin both deflate and light up in the span of five seconds. You almost get whiplash with how quick his mood changes.

"What hospital did you take him too?" Jimin asks eagerly, hopefully.

You heart twists, knowing that you're the one who has to break that hope. You soften your voice, making it as gentle as possible. "Jimin, we didn't. We tried our best, but we couldn't save him. By the time we got there, he had already lost too much blood. I am so sorry."

Jimin's expression shutters and it makes you feel like someone punched you in the gut. He takes a breath before saying, "Thank you for coming to tell me. And thank you for trying to save him."

Jimin walks away and you want to stop him, to comfort him somehow, but you don't because it's not your place.

You turn to Taehyung, who looks so incredibly sad it broke your heart a little. You know you should leave but you can't just put leave without at least trying to help. "Are you okay, Taehyung?"

"No," He shakes his head, fiddling with the cloth he used to wipe the bar down earlier. "But I will be."

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Yeah, actually." He says, surprising you pleasantly. You thought he would refuse your offer. Your heavy heart lifts a little, happy to help, and you nod at Taehyung, indicating to him to tell you what he wants you to do. He looks at you for a long while and it makes you fidget a little. He's not going to ask you to hurt someone, right? You sincerely hoped not. Finally he spoke and you could have never guessed what came out his mouth next. "Jimin is going to come to you. I don't know when, but he will. I don't know what exactly happened between you and him the night you saved him, but it changed something in him. He's been different since that night and it's because of you. So, he'll come to you and seek comfort and when he does, I only ask one thing."

You swallow thickly, having no idea what to do with everything Taehyung just dumped on you. "And what is that?"

"Please be gentle with him. People think he's dangerous and fearsome, and he is. For the most part he really is, but that's not all he is. Underneath that, he has the biggest heart. A heart he usually keeps hidden and locked far away, but somehow, you made it past all of his defences in a night. And right now, his heart is hurting badly."

You give Taehyung a strange look, thinking that he must be reading something wrong somewhere because you and Jimin didn't spend that much time together. Maybe two hours. How could that have been enough time to get past his defences, as Taehyung said? "Uh, I think you might be exaggerating the situation but okay. If it will make you feel better. I promise to be gentle with him. Whatever that means."

Taehyung was visibly relieved by your sincere promise. "Thank you."

"It's nothing." You waved him off. "Anything else I can do for you?"

"No." Taehyung smiles, small and much dimmer than the bright boxy grin he gave you earlier, but just as true. "But I think I'm starting to see it."

"See what?" You look curiously at him.

"Why Jimin has a soft spot for you." He answers nonchalantly.

You very almost choke on thin air. "I helped him out once and told me he'd return the favour. That does not mean he has a soft spot for me."

"Yes, he does. Have you not been listening to a word I've said?" Taehyung all but demanded, placing his hands on his hips.

"I'm listening," You give him a slight smile. "Still working on believing."

"Well, believe it." Taehyung huffs. "Earlier, when you came in and asked for Jimin and I went to get him? He was busy, uh . . ." Taehyung trails off, unsure how much Jimin wants her to know. He knows better than to outright lie though. He settles on a word that is both discreet and understandable. "He was interrogating a guy for answers about Jihyun's whereabouts. You are the only person on this planet I was allowed to interrupt that interrogation for."

"He did say to come anytime I want." You defend, feeling heat creeping up your cheeks again.

Taehyung looks like your words just proves his point. "Exactly."

You sigh, resigning yourself to the fact that you won't be able to change his mind. You glance in the direction where Jimin went and your mood deflates, "You think he's going to be okay?"

"I don't know." Taehyung admits honestly, eyes lingering on the door.

"I have this foreboding feeling that this is the calm before the storm." You say, nodding in the direction where Jimin went. "He was too quiet when I told him the news, but I could see the grief in his eyes. Was he close to the guy who was killed?"

"Very." Taehyung nods. "Jihyun is, or was, Jimin's brother."

You felt your heart drop to the bottom of your feet as the last pieces of the puzzle fit together. You should have realised, the detective told you Jihyun's brother is the leader of the gang and Taehyung told you Jimin leads the gang. "Oh my God."

"Yeah." Taehyung nods, biting his lip.

"I can't imagine how Jimin must feel right now." You say, wanting nothing but to barge through those doors and go hug Jimin.

"I think it helps that it came from you, instead of the police. Those smug bastards would have just rubbed his nose in it." Taehyung says with a distasteful look on his face.

"Why would they do that?" You ask, deciding not to tell Taehyung that the police wasn't even planning on telling Jimin at all.

"Because we're in a gang. Although, they can't proof anything against us. Especially against Jimin. They don't know much, but they know he's our leader. He took over from his dad when he retired, when Jimin was twenty-one. Which really pisses them off." Taehyung looked a little smug over that fact.

"I get that. I mean, my dad was a cop, before he died in the crossfire of a gang war. I was seventeen at the time, so I can still remember how he would get angry or frustrated when he couldn't solve a case or find evidence to prove his case."

"Sorry about your dad." Taehyung says, looking like he actually means it.

It makes you smile a little, "It's okay. I mean, it still hurts like hell sometimes, but they found the guy who pulled the trigger and he's spending the rest of his life in jail."

"Want me to take him out for you?" Taehyung offers. "We got a couple of guys in prison and I'm sure Jimin wouldn't mind."

"No, absolutely not!" You exclaim with wide eyes, heartbeat kicking up its pace as panic shoots through you for a second. "Jesus Christ, first Jimin and now you. What is wrong with you two?"

Taehyung's eyes get a wicked gleam and you somehow know what he's going to say before he opens his mouth. "We're-"

"In a gang, yeah, I know. That isn't an excuse." You sigh, running a hand over your face. A heaviness settles around your heart. "This is going to get ugly, isn't it?"

"Maybe. Maybe not." Taehyung shrugs. "But probably."

"Great." You mutter. Better stock up the ambulance then.

***

chapter 3

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it!

[geekywritings]

JUNGKOOK X READER PART 2 - Is this real life or am I in a drama?

Part 2 of my little Jungkook x Reader story. For all who need a recap of Part 1: You are a young vet, just trying to make your way home from work when suddenly Jungkook falls right into your car, taking refuge from a group of sasaengs. You give him a ride home and he exchanges contact details with you, promising to stay in touch.

The prompt for part 2 is: “It’s pouring rain, why are you here?”

For the next few days, all you could think about was that meeting. It still seemed so very surreal. And you didn’t even dare tell anyone about the incident, because who would really believe you? Even your best friends and work colleagues would just raise and eyebrow and shake their heads most likely. Such things simply didn’t happen to people. They were part of k-drama scripts or popular web toons and after a week, you did start to wonder if it had all been some kind of strange dream.

But exactly that evening, when you had just come out of the shower to enjoy a cup of tea and a new episode of your favourite show, your phone beeped with a new Kakao Talk message. You gave your phone a lazy glance and then almost dropped your mug when you saw it was from none other than Jungkook.

JK: “I’m sorry for the late reply, Miss Vet. Things got kinda hectic. But I have not forgotten my promise. I still owe you that thank you.”

You had to reread that message a few times and for a second you wondered if it was a scam perhaps, but who else would now about that event but him? For a second you wondered what to answer before typing:

Y/N: “No problem. You are an idol after all. And you did already thank me.”

It took only a few seconds until his answer popped up.

JK: “It still doesn’t feel like enough.”

Wow, did he know how cool that sounded? 

Y/N: “You don’t have to worry. Really. I’m glad I could help.”

This time he took a bit longer to reply.

JK: “Do you like flowers?”

Y/N: “Yes of course. Who doesn’t?”

JK: “Which ones are your favourites?”

That one was harder to answer. You liked quite a few and just named them all, allowing him to make the final choice.

JK: “Great. Can I send them to your workplace? I don’t think florists deliver late in the evening.”

It was sweet that he was so dead set on sending you flowers as a proper thank you and while part of you was delighted, the other part wondered how to explain the bouquet to your colleagues at the vet office. Still, you typed in your adress and sent it out. 

From then on you thought the conversation would end, but apparently Jungkook was in a talkative mood. He revealed that he had a free evening and was just relaxing on the couch with a good meal, before asking you what you were up to. You told him about the drama and he suggested watching at the same time, sharing comments through text. 

You had never done anything like it before, least of all with a stranger, but Jungkook seemed so nice and it didn’t feel so intimidating to write with an idol over messages. And after the first few shared comments, you actually started to really enjoy it. You two ended up talking throughout the entire episode, which was almost an hour long and then even half an hour on top until Jungkook announced that he was heading to bed. Noticing the time, you realized it was time to hit the pillows yourself. 

But as you laid there in your bed, you kept reading through the chat history, as if making sure it was still real. Especially that “Goog Night” with the cute little emoji brought a smile to your face, before you finally turned off the night light.

____

For the next two weeks, he kept writing texts every other day. Sometimes it was just a random “How are you?” or a comment to your recently posted Kakao Story that he didn’t dare post publicly. But sometimes he would ask if you were watching that drama again to share comments in real time. It had become kind of a ritual when the third week started and a day without his messages felt weird. You still couldn’t tell anyone about it, but your friends and colleagues did start noticing your smiles and your eager grabs for the phone. But whenever they teased, you just said it was some guy online. Their would never believe the truth and you didn’t want to put Jungkook in trouble either. You had seen how crazy his fans could be, so the last thing he needed was your chats to become the topic of online gossip. Besides, it was kind of exhilarating to have a secret like that. At this point, you had already totally forgotten about the flowers.

During the fourth week of knowing Jungkook, you were staying late at the clinic, taking your regular night shift to take care of your little patients. You had just made your rounds, giving all the animals their medicine and checking on their bandages, before sitting down in the reception area, in case of emergencies coming in. But it was a super quiet evening, so you took out your phone. Almost on cue, a message popped up: “Finished work?”

Y/N: “Nope, having a night shift today.”

JK: “Oh, sounds tough.”

Y/N: “Not really. It’s quiet tonight.”

Nothing came after that and you put the phone away again, turning your head to the entry, the glassdoor giving you a perfect view of the rain shower outside. It really was coming down hard today. Bored, you took another round visiting your furry patients, giving them an extra round of cuddles. Suddenly the sound of the door tore through the hallway and you were quick to place the cat with the broken paw down to go and check on the new arrival.

You were utterly stunned to see Jungkook standing in the half opened door, dripping wet and with a huge bouquet of your favourite flowers in hand. 

“It’s pouring rain! Why are you here?!”, you exclaimed, approaching him with a shake of your head. 

“Well, florists dont deliver at this hour.”, he said cheekily with a shrug. “So I came personally.” 

He held out the dripping bouquet to you, which you took gratefully, enjoying the heavy fragrance of the flowers.

“You really shouldn’t have, but thank you. They are gorgeous.”, you said, sending him a smile, before inviting him to the staff room. 

“Let me make you a tea and grab you a towel.”

“You got coffee instead?”, he asked, running a hand through his hair. It had changed color, you noticed, though you also instantly thought that you prefered it black. 

A few minutes later you came back with a small towel and a steaming cup of coffee, taking a seat across from him at the small table. The entire room was tiny, but it was enough for the team.

“So this is where you work, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s a good place. It has nice people and I like how we truly take our time for each patient.”, you explained. You knew that not every clinic was like that, having done internships elsewhere during your studies. 

“Aren’t you busy though?”, it was now your turn to ask him a question.

“I am most nights, but we do get our time off as well.”, Jungkook replied. “Our agency is a good place too.” You nodded, having read up a bit about Big Hit since your meeting with one of their idols. You also realized that you did know and enjoy quite a few of BTS’ songs, even though you had never been able to put a face to them. Now you enjoyed them even more.

“Do you want a tour?”, you asked, after a minute of silence fell between you, during which Jungkook tried to dry his hair. He agreed with a nod, before following you around. There wasn’t much to show, but he did spend some time in the patient rooms, giving the animals some pets and cuddles. He was good with them, you notcied and they seemed to like him in return.

“You have two cats at home, right?”, he asked, his hand still stroking a fat tabby, who was at the clinic because of stomach problems. The owner insisted something was wrong with him, even though you had determined that he just needed a change in food and a consistent diet. 

“Yeah, Mr. Paws and Pogi.”, you replied. “I got them both from here, when the owners didn’t want them anymore.”

Jungkook’s eyes snapped to you, one of his eyebrows raised. “People do that?”

“Sometimes, unfortunately. Mr. Paws has a missing paw, ironically. We had to amputate it and the owner thought his cat would need special treatment because of it. And Pogi just needs regular medication and special food.” Small things really, but some owners just couldn’t handle it. 

“I saw pictures of them and I never notcied the missing paw.”, Jungkook said.

“I don’t make a point of making it the focus on pictures.” 

You ended the tour back in the staff room, where Jungkook took his coffee for a few sips, the drink instantly helping to warm him up. 

“I have to miss our drama this friday.”, he suddenly announced. “So you have to give me detailed updates or at least a good summary.”

“You could just watch the rerun online.”, you suggested.

“It’s no fun alone. So unless you can wait a day for the new episode...”

“I make no promises, since the last episode ended on a cliffhanger.. but I’ll try to be patient.” He smiled at your humor, but you were serous. The show was more enjoyable with him. 

“How did you get here?”, you eventually asked.

“I took a cab, but told them to let me out in front of a restaurant nearby. From there I walked.” In the pouring rain no less. Probably so the cab driver wouldn’t tell where he went. It was a clever ruse, but it was a shame that it was even necessary. 

“Need a ride home?”, you asked. “I think I’m not a bad driver and I have some minor experience with idol passengers.”

His smile grew even wider at that. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“But I do stil have to work for an hour before I can take my break.”, you said, glancing at the clock on the wall.

“Just a break? What time do you go home?”

“This is just like a hospital with normal night shifts. Usually they are covered by our senior staff, but because some are on holiday, the task falls to me. So today, I’m staying till 7am. But I get the next day off.”, you explained. Those almost 24 hour shifts were draining, but rare, so you didn’t mind them at all. 

“Oh, I think I will need loads of coffee to make it until 7am...”, he said.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I might as well keep you company. That will be the perfect way to show my gratitude.”

“You really don’t have you...”; you started. 

“I have a free day tomorrow as well, so I don’t mind.”, he insisted casually. “Besides, we get a chance to talk about that drama in person. It’s easier than typing.”

You still didn’t get why he wanted to stay. Somehow you could not imagine that it was because he simply started to enjoy your company through your online talks.

For almost the whole night, you just talked and drank copious amounts of coffee. He followed you on your patrol rounds, helping you with minor tasks whenever he could. And although it was strange, it was the best night shift ever. Most of the time, it didn’t feel like you were hanging out with an idol, but just with a really nice guy. A really handsome one at that. 

“This is nice.”, Jungkook said, voicing what you had been thinking. “But I do need another coffee.”

“You could also just take a nap.”, you offered. “I’ll wake you before it’s time to go.” It was already 4 am at this point. 

He seemed to think about the offer. “Ok, but we will grab some breakfast together to make up for lost time.”

Did he really feel like he owed you all this time? You weren’t quite sure what to answer, so you just nodded and went to grab him a blanket. There was a small sofa in the staff room specifically for the nightshift or patients who could not see blood. 

“Goodnight, Jungkook.”

“Goodnight, Y/N”

Hearing it live was so much better than reading his text you decided. And with a smile you made yourself another coffee to last the remaining hours. 

[thelibrarbian]

Rating: T

Chapter word count: 3249

Read on Ao3

or below the cut:

Papyrus was well aware that his lessons with Captain Undyne did not include every aspect of the training a future Royal Guardsman should receive. There was, as far as Papyrus was aware, usually more emphasis on fighting humans and less on cooking pasta, for instance. But the chapter on first aid was a section that she had taken him through in detail, and he was very grateful for that right now.

To be quite honest, he was somewhat surprised by his own knowledge of skeletal anatomy and medicine; he was reasonably sure that not all of it came from Undyne's lessons, but he couldn't remember where else he had learned it. He didn't dwell on it, though - he had probably just read a book at some point and then forgotten about it, or it was simply instinct from being a skeleton monster himself - it only meant that he was even better equipped to take care of the unconscious monster on his living room floor, even if he hadn't realized the extent of his own greatness before.

He couldn't say he felt particularly Great, though.

Fell might have been no longer in danger of dusting, but actually healing his wounds proved much more difficult than it should have been. Not only did attacks deal more damage the more harming intent went into them, it also made them harder to heal - and what Papyrus could feel lingering where Fell had been hit was outright murderous. Healing it wasn't impossible, most certainly not impossible for the Great Papyrus, but if he had hoped to fully mend any of the broken bones right there and then, that was very clearly not happening. The most he could do was to ease some of the pain and encourage Fell's natural healing to do its job perhaps a little faster.

Well! That was a minor setback, but no matter! They could still patch Fell up the regular way, and everything would be fine. And while Sans couldn't assist with healing magic, Papyrus was very glad for the extra hands.

It took longer than he would have liked to admit, but eventually they had cleaned all the wounds, set and splinted the breaks, and wrapped what felt like the majority of Fell's body in bandages. Fell never stirred throughout it all, and Papyrus decided to be glad that he was sleeping through what could not be a pleasant experience from his end if he was conscious. The alternative train of thought that his unresponsiveness prompted was not one that Papyrus wanted to follow.

If Papyrus was perfectly honest, it surprised him a little just how eager his brother was to help. Not that he thought Sans would refuse to assist a monster in need, of course not, but... For reasons that Papyrus didn't entirely understand, Sans and Fell… did not usually get along particularly well, to put it lightly. Yet now it was only on Papyrus' insistence that yes, he really was able to handle everything else on his own that Sans eventually left the injured monster's side, taking Red upstairs with him to let him sleep on a proper (albeit ketchup-stained) mattress.

Papyrus would have preferred to move Fell to a bed as well so he could rest better, but the thought of carrying him up the stairs in this state seemed daunting. Of course, it wasn't that he didn't trust his ability to maneuver a badly injured skeleton through the house, who was probably going to dust if Papyrus accidentally dropped him, or knocked his head against a doorframe, or jostled him just a little bit too much… But there was also now an unoccupied, reasonably comfortable couch only two steps away, and lifting Fell onto that did not come with nearly the same potential for highly unlikely fatal accidents.

He was exceedingly careful as he looped his arms under Fell's shoulders and legs and lifted him up, using a bit of blue magic to make the move go more smoothly for his alternate and avoid aggravating his injuries. Once he had double checked and triple checked and quadruple checked that Fell's HP really was stable now and would remain that way even if Papyrus left his side for a moment, he darted around the house, picked up any additional pillows from the other rooms (excluding Sans' room because he was not going to subject Fell to the ketchup stains he would inevitably find on his brother's pillows - and besides, Red was probably using those), and rushed back to the couch. He carefully arranged Fell a little more comfortably, supporting his upper body with pillows, making sure there was no pressure on his injured ribs, and draping a blanket over him. And then another, because Fell's state called for more than one blanket.

Finally, he brought a chair from the kitchen and sat down next to the couch, reaching over to lightly rest his hand on Fell's broken leg and continue to channel a slow, but steady stream of healing magic into him. It may not have been helping much, but Papyrus had enough magic at his disposal to keep this up for the rest of the night. And probably the next morning as well.

It was more disturbing than he wanted to admit, seeing his alternate so still in the pile of pillows and blankets. A few months had passed since their universes had crossed paths for the first time, but they had remained in somewhat regular contact since then - mostly due to Papyrus' own insistence to invite their rougher counterparts to a biweekly cross-universal skeleton game and movie night. And as much as Fell kept grumbling about those meetings and adamantly refused to host one in his own world, neither he nor Red had missed a single one so far.

Still, as much as Papyrus would like to, he didn't think he was allowed to call his alternate a friend yet. Red and Sans got along well, exchanging puns and knock-knock jokes and generally bonding over their terrible sense of humor, much to Papyrus' chagrin.

Fell was a different matter.

His grumbling may have noticeably decreased since their first meeting, but Papyrus suspected that he thought of the get-togethers more as strategic missions for potential cross-universal allyships rather than socializing. While Red, just like Sans, easily kept up a friendly (and pun-filled) conversation without sharing anything consequential, Fell made no pretense of always keeping the two of them at a metaphorical arm's length, always politely, but firmly turning down any of Papyrus’ suggestions to stay for longer than initially agreed. (Which, in turn, had led Sans to certain comments about sticks and pelvic cavities.) The few times Papyrus had seen his counterpart soften, for lack of a better word, was when the topic of conversation turned to either cooking or his cat, and those moments never lasted long before his carefully kept mask slid back into place.

Papyrus didn't take it personally, of course! Their rougher counterparts just weren't the kind of monsters to make friends easily, and with what Papyrus knew about the 'kill or be killed' universe they came from, he couldn’t expect them to be. It was simply going to be a challenge to earn their trust and friendship, and the Great Papyrus wasn’t one to back down from a challenge.

The Great Papyrus also wasn’t one to doubt his chances of success with that particular challenge. He wasn’t one to linger on how long his friend quantity had remained stagnant despite his best efforts, or on the fact that, while he himself had just barely obtained a semi-official job as a sentry, Fell had climbed up through the ranks of his own Royal Guard in record time…

Fell, who was now not only a full member of the Royal Guard, but the second-in-command, outranked only by Captain Undyne and the King himself. Who, if Red was to be believed, was single-handedly responsible for turning the previously lawless town of Snowdin into one of the safest places in his version of the Underground. Whose name was feared and respected from Snowdin all the way to the capital.

Fell… was not supposed to look this small.

He had still shown no sign of movement other than his shallow breathing. His face, the only part of him not covered in blankets, was pale, even for a skull, devoid of the faint glow of magic that was usually the sign of a healthy skeleton monster.

Papyrus swallowed dryly and increased the flow of his healing magic.

He very decisively did not think about what could have happened if Red had been held up, or if Fell had taken any more hits, or if Papyrus' magic hadn't been strong enough to stop the bleeding in time. Worrying too much wasn't helping anything right now. Besides, Red was going to do enough worrying for all of them combined once he woke up, whether he would show it or not, and apparently, there was a good chance that Sans would be joining him. So all the worrying in this house was already more than taken care of, and Papyrus didn't also need to think about things that hadn't happened, or question whether Fell remaining unconscious was to be expected with the severity of his injuries or whether it was a sign that he was- Yes, no, that was exactly what Papyrus was not thinking about.

In the same line of not-thinking, he really hoped that Red was alright.

With a sigh, Papyrus let his healing magic fade out. He needed to refocus. He sat up straight, stretching his arms and back until his spine popped; bending over his alternate like this wasn't the most comfortable position to keep for long periods of time, he realized. Not that it mattered - he would gladly take some minor discomfort if it helped Fell recover.

As quietly as possible, he scooted the chair over so he could better reach his alternate’s ribcage. But before he could even touch him, a faint noise, softer than what he would have expected, came from the end of the couch, and Papyrus' gaze darted over immediately.

Fell's head was turned towards him, his eye sockets were open, and he was staring at Papyrus with an unreadable expression.

Papyrus' shoulders sagged with relief. "Oh, thank the stars you're awake! You had me worried there for a moment - not that I thought that someone as Great and Terrible as yourself could be kept down by anything at all, of course, what a ridiculous idea!" He gave a small and very much not nervous laugh. "But, I am rambling when I should instead be asking: How are you feeling? Do you need anything? Are you comfortable, or should I get more pillows?"

Fell gave no response, which, Papyrus could somewhat understand. That had probably been at least two questions too many for someone who didn't look like he was entirely awake yet.

"How are you feeling?" he repeated, fidgeting slightly with his hands and successfully stopping himself from continuing to ramble this time.

Fell still gave no response, although he stopped staring at Papyrus, his eye lights dim and unfocused as they scanned the room. Then, with a grunt of effort, he pushed himself up onto his elbows, looking as if he was fully intending to get up.

Papyrus gave a noise of alarm and quickly reached out to stop him. "Oh, no, I believe that is not a good idea at this moment! You might hurt yourself - I mean, worse than you already - well…"

Fell let himself be guided back into the cushions without any resistance, and that was somehow more alarming than his attempt to get up in the first place. Papyrus was certain that, in any other instance, his alternate would have snapped at him for the mere suggestion that he should lie back down, and if Papyrus hadn't been concerned before, he certainly was now.

Trying his best not to let his worry show, he lightly patted Fell's shoulder and carefully tugged the blankets back up. "There you go, that's better! You just try to rest, and let us take care of everything else! I can even read you a book to help you relax, that usually works for me - although I do not know if you would enjoy Fluffy Bunny. Maybe 'A History of Puzzles'? Or maybe not, if it's too interesting to fall asleep to, that won't do, either!"

He paused his chatter to give his counterpart a closer look. Despite leaning back into the pillows again, Fell still looked tense, dim eye lights darting back and forth as if looking for something. Or searching the room for possible threats. Or both.

"Sans?" His voice was rougher and quieter than Papyrus remembered, closer to a whisper than anything else, but he supposed that was to be expected given the circumstances. Right now, Papyrus was glad to hear him speak at all.

"Your brother? He's upstairs, sleeping. He was exhausted when he came here, but Sa- Comic said he would be fine, he just needed some rest." Papyrus gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "He brought you here, to mine and Comic's house, in case you were wondering how you got here. Or, er, where you were." He probably should have mentioned that right away, but, well, it couldn't be changed now.

Fell stared at him intensely, and Papyrus couldn't tell whether he was trying to judge the truthfulness of those statements, or if he just needed a while to process the words. Then he blinked a few times, looked over the room again, and something seemed to click in his mind. Some of the tension left his face as he exhaled, sinking back into the pillows.

For a moment, Papyrus considered asking what had happened to leave him in such a state, and he had already opened his mouth to do so when he paused. Fell didn't exactly seem like he was up for any sort of extended conversation at this point, and Papyrus decided to let him rest a bit more before he started needling him with more questions.

There were a few moments of awkward silence before Papyrus cleared his non-existent throat. "Well! I was just going to heal you a bit more before you woke up, so if that's alright with you, I'll just get back to that?" When there were no objections, Papyrus brought his hand over his alternate's blanket-covered ribcage, fingers starting to glow green.

Faster than Papyrus thought his alternate could move, Fell's hand closed around his wrist before he made contact.

Papyrus stopped moving immediately. He wasn't afraid of his alternate, although he knew better than to underestimate him even in this state, if Papyrus' approach had somehow registered as a threat to him. Still, he really didn't want to startle him.

But Fell only stared at Papyrus' hand with a somewhat puzzled expression, slightly tilting his head. "Whadda ya..." He paused, frowning at his own slurred speech. When he continued after a moment, it sounded like it was taking him quite a bit of concentration to enunciate the words clearly. "What. Are you… doing?"

Oh. Right. Healing magic was… not much of a thing in Fell's universe. Not that Fell or Red had ever explicitly spoken about the topic - they very rarely spoke about anything regarding their universe, Red's occasional gushing about his brother's accomplishments notwithstanding - but Papyrus had come to his own conclusions. (Although he had wondered, with him and Fell being essentially the same monster… but that was neither here nor there.)

Papyrus straightened up slightly, as much as he could with his wrist still in Fell's grip. "Like I said, healing you! If you will allow me, that is. Which I very much hope you will, because despite my best efforts I'm afraid that you're still… not quite back to full health yet." And if that wasn't one of the biggest understatements to ever come out of his mouth, Papyrus didn't know what was.

Fell still looked confused, but he slowly released him.

"Thank you!" Papyrus gave a bright smile, which came a bit more easily than before. "Now, I'm just going to reach over there and place my hand on the blanket, alright? It shouldn't hurt, but please do let me know if it becomes uncomfortable at any-"

Another noise interrupted him, but he couldn't make out what Fell was trying to say this time.

"Pardon?"

Fell blinked furiously as if he was fighting hard to stay awake. Papyrus knew better than to tell him to go back to sleep; instead, he waited patiently for him to sort his words. "Why're ya… you… on th' chair?"

Papyrus blinked back. "Because I am planning to stay here for a while longer, and while I could stand the entire time, there wasn't really any need to, so I brought a chair from the kitchen?"

Fell huffed softly, his eye sockets starting to close before he forced them back open. "Not… what I mean… why'ren't ya on th' couch?"

"Because. You are on the couch??"

Fell stared at him - he had been doing a lot of that since he woke up -, then slowly raised his arm and patted the space behind his head. Which was mostly occupied by pillows at the moment.

"You… want me to sit on the couch with you?" Papyrus had to confirm. While they had, of course, shared the couch on movie nights before, Fell wasn't lying down on those occasions… and he didn't exactly strike Papyrus as the cuddly type.

Fell scoffed. "Obv'sly. If you're gonna keep… doin' this…" He vaguely gestured towards Papyrus, the chair he was sitting on, and the hand that Papyrus was still holding awkwardly over his ribs without touching him. "Don' need ta… need ta..." Then he let out a tired huff, clearly frustrated with his apparent struggle to finish the sentence. "Couch. Sit," he commanded, closing his eyes without waiting for a response.

Well. Alright. That was unexpected, but if Fell was this adamant about it, Papyrus couldn't really object, could he? It took a bit of shuffling, but in the end, he managed to arrange himself on the end of the couch next to Fell's head, with his legs under the pillows, and Fell seemed to have no objections to essentially lying in Papyrus' lap - or rather, lying in the pile of pillows that Papyrus had on his lap. In any case, the lack of protest was probably more of a testament to Fell's not-fully-conscious state than anything else, but it was certainly a more comfortable position for Papyrus than sitting on the chair and leaning over his alternate.

"Can I continue healing you now?" Papyrus asked again after a few moments.

He received a vague hum that sounded half like confirmation and half like Fell was falling asleep.

Papyrus took it as a 'yes'. He positioned his hand over the blankets around Fell's ribs, careful not to press on the injury, and focused on keeping his intent warm and soothing, pushing his worries to the back of his mind. Now, with one arm over his alternate, the position felt almost like a hug - another thing that Fell certainly would not have tolerated if he was fully conscious. As things were, though, there was another, even fainter hum as Fell shifted minutely in the pillows, and Papyrus got the strange impression that he was trying to curl closer.

[trashforgubler]

My Cell

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: Spencer falls in love with the reader, who is the owner of a bookstore

Extra Info: Titled after “My Cell” by the Lumineers, which is one of my favorite songs ever, 11/10 should listen. Also the book I mention in here is one of my all time favs if you’re looking for a recommendation 

Requests: Open

masterpost

Spencer had a thing for books. At least, that’s what he told himself as he was walking into Bastet Books for the third time this week. Even though this bookstore was on the other side of town, and there were exactly three other book stores that were considerably closer to his apartment. He told himself this bookstore was better, even though the other ones had far greater selections (and lower prices). He told himself that he liked the white cat with one blue eye and one green eye that greeted him at the door every time he came in, and it had nothing to do with you thank you very much. 

 Of course, he had noticed that you were… attractive. But attraction is nothing but science. Anyone would be attracted to someone as beautiful as you were. The way your hands gently cradled the books in your arms as you restocked them on the shelf. The way your eyebrow furrowed slightly as you read, making you look lost in another world. Anyone would notice the smell of lavender and Old Spice as you walked by, excusing yourself with a soft voice and a shy smile, your bright eyes darting theirs as they moved past. This is what Spencer used to explain the butterflies that flew around in his stomach every time he saw you at the cash register. 

He did not have a crush on you, he was just observant.

 And as Spencer walked out of the bookstore with an armful of true crime and a copy of Twilight (in Russian of course, as he doesn’t read fiction in English, but still takes his friend’s recommendations), he realized he was going to have to think of some more reasons why he drives the extra 20 minutes to this bookstore, because the persistent itch in his eyes and nose were telling him he may be allergic to cats. 

 Three days later Spencer was back at the bookstore. The same bookstore that was an inconvenient distance away and had an animal that he was definitely allergic to. He told himself he got allergy medicine because there may be other times where it might come in handy and going into the bookstore was a good way to test it out anyway.

 The bell on the door welcomed him in. As always, he immediately looked to the cash register, secretly hoping to see you. No, I’m not hoping anything Spencer assured himself. Although his own mind contradicted this thought as he found himself disappointed when he laid eyes on not you, but an older man with a scraggly beard behind the counter. Funny, he thought for sure you worked on Thursdays. But he began browsing the shelves anyway because he was certainly here to buy books and that did not change based on who was working.

 He made his way to a section he hasn’t been down before: Historical Fiction. Usually, he preferred to keep historical and fiction books separate from each other, as he found the inaccuracies to be outraging when the two were mixed together. But he had already read all of the historical books in the store by now, and as he found last time, he was not a fan of complete fiction. Even in Russian.

 His long fingers traced the dusty spines on the shelves as he read each title to himself. The quiet music echoing down the empty aisle made him smile slightly, another reason he loved this store. The others were boring and dead silent. Stepping into them felt like walking around a prestigious museum more than a bookstore. Not here. Here, there was the strum of acoustic music that made everything feel alive. Small conversations could be heard from other aisles, and he liked how they stacked the books here. Not just on the shelves, but on top of them, and on coffee tables placed sporadically throughout the room. There were even books on the windowsills, as if the store were so bursting with words and stories they couldn’t be confined to a single space. 

 Spencer picked up a book from the top of the shelf: The Secret History by Donna Tartt. It was clearly used; the cover was bent at the corner and the spine was broken in several places. It was even starting to rip at the bottom. These were his favorite books. Ones that were read by so many people it was starting to fall apart but seemed to stay together just for him.

 “That’s a great book.”

 Spencer turned to the voice, but he knew he didn’t need to. He would recognize the softness of the words and the smell of lavender anywhere. You were standing near him, a box of newly shipped books in your arms, ready to shelve. Except the box was marked Contemporary, not Historical Fiction. Maybe it was this minute detail, the one that meant you had walked into the aisle he was in just to see what he was reading that gave him the courage to respond.

 “Yeah, it looks good. I think I’m gonna buy it.”

 He pretended to study the cover again. He wanted to keep talking, he really did, but the words seemed stuck in his throat. 

 “You’re Spencer, right?”

 Spencer looked up again and nodded, trying to keep his face and body language casual, even though he could hear his heartbeat in his ears. 

 “You’re in here a lot, aren’t you?”

 Spencer nodded again. Say something, he scolded himself. 

 “Yeah, I uh, really like to read.”

 He mentally slapped himself. Could he have picked something more stupid to say?

 “I can tell,” you said with a smile. God, you had such a beautiful smile. “I’m Y/N by the way.” You shifted the box of books into one arm and extended your hand to him. He shook it without thinking about all the germs that might be on it. For the first time in years, the thought never crossed his mind. Maybe it was because you were different than other people. Other people were germy and even the thought of touching their hands revolted him enough to spit statistics at them, lectures on how he would rather kiss a stranger on the lips than shake their hand if given the choice. The touch of your hand made him want to melt.

You stood in silence for a few seconds, smiling at each other politely. Spencer began to rock on the balls of his feet slightly, usure of what else to do. He should not be feeling nervous, but he was

 “Well, let me know if you need anything,” you said finally and leave the aisle.

 As soon as you were out of sight, Spencer rubbed furiously at his eyes. What was that? He interviews serial killers for a living but can’t have a coherent conversation with someone he likes? No, I don’t like them, he assured himself. Liking someone means going on dates and doing other things with them, and Spencer does not do that. He ignores the persistent voice in his head telling he would actually very much enjoy doing those things with you.

 A small purring object presses against the bottom of his pant leg, tickling his ankles. He looks down and sees the cat, rubbing his body against him. Spencer bends down and pets the top of his head, absently wondering if you had noticed that his hands had been shaking during the 30-second interaction. He looks back down at the cat and sees that they’re wearing a collar, Bastet it reads. Spencer smiled to himself. There seemed to be something unignorably adorable about naming a bookstore after your cat, and naming your cat after the Egyptian god of cats. Spencer liked the idea that there was someone just as nerdy as him.

 He gave Bastet a quick kiss on the top of the head and left the aisle. He turned right to go to the cash register but stopped when he saw who it was. Scraggly beard guy was gone, and instead, you were chatting with a customer as you bagged their items. Immediately, Spencer’s heartbeat picked up once again, and the butterflies returned to his stomach. Stop. He told himself. I will not let you get nervous over someone you don’t even like. When it was his turn, he put The Secret History on the counter and pulled the bills out of his wallet. 

 “Spencer, long time no see.” you joked. You scanned his book and took the bills from his hand. He would be lying if he said his heart didn’t jump when your soft fingers grazed his.

 Spencer forced himself to return the laugh even though he felt like throwing up. Why did he feel like throwing up? He avoided eye contact by shuffling the bills around his wallet until you returned the book to him. You opened your mouth to say something, but Spencer cut you off with a hasty, “Have a nice day!” before speed walking out of the store. He told himself it was because he didn’t want to hold up the line with another conversation, but he knew deep down if he looked at you for one second longer he would say things that were not rational, and Spencer was always rational. 

---

That night when Spencer tucked himself into bed and opened up the book, his receipt fell out of the first page and onto his chest. Only the receipt had something written on it in neat blue ink. 

 Spencer,

I’m not sure how to say this, so I’ll let someone better at words than I am say it instead (I’m a reader and not a writer for a reason). Read the poem "A Stranger" by Lang Leav. It’s one of my favorites and every time I read it, I find myself thinking of you. 

-         Y/N

 But Spencer didn’t have to read the poem, because he’s read it many times before. And every time he did, he found himself thinking of you. He smiled as he finally welcomed the butterflies and racing heart wholly at the thought of your name. And before he drifted off to sleep, he recited the poem in his head, and with every line he thought, a new butterfly appeared.

 There is a love I reminisce,

Like a seed

I've never sown.

 Or lips that I am yet to kiss,

and eyes

not met my own.

 Hands that wrap around my wrists,

and arms

that feel like home.

 I wonder how it is I miss,

these things

I've never known.

 Maybe falling in love, was not so scary after all.