#that being said i do love aus where bill is like stuck on some human form or some shit and has a weird friendship with mabel

[irregularbillcipher]

i'm so sick of people who use the fact that mabel is very much like bill (yes, true!) and that bill even likes mabel (again, yes, true!) and understands her in some ways (again yes!!! true!!!!!!!!!! what was the bubble but a party that never ends with a host that never dies?) and then twist it to fuel their mabel hate. like for one, every pines family member has some deep commonalities with bill because he's an effective villain and plays off the heroes of the story so well! but ALSO because it completely disregards how their core philosophies about the world and people around them differ and it bums me out

i have said this before, exactly like this, and i will say it again. the main difference between bill and mabel is that bill finds the universe and the people in it constricting and dull and frustrating while mabel sees the beauty in dull people and things and sees them as full of potential. bill sees something boring, he destroys it, mabel sees something boring, she gets out her glitter glue. mabel is so filled to the brim with love and affection for others and such a wild desire to make everyone, including herself, happy at all times, and bill is trying so hard to be happy that he deliberately hurts people, ruins his own life, ruins the lives of everyone around him and then doesn't understand why he's so miserable. like these two are fascinating because they are both remarkably similar and WILDLY different and, most importantly, they are interesting to look at as foils because mabel is a good person

[prodigaldaughteralice]

Hello ProdigalDaughter !

Thank you for naming your tumblr on your AO3!

I had another dream about beloved blorbo Creed and needed to let you know.

In this dream, something interrupted Belos whilst he was murdering Creed, enough that he had to leave temporarily. Creed managed to get to his staff and get away, but he passed out before he got further than Darius’s chambers/apartment (this bit was kinda unclear). Darius walks in and sees his bf bleeding out on his carpet and proceeds to freak out.

The dream had a timeskip after that and it moved forward to Creed relearning how to walk with Darius (because of his messed up legs). Darius had a peacock palisman and was lending it to Creed whilst they talked about finding Creed one. I think his was a canid of some sort, but that bit wasn’t clear either. Due to his inflicted injuries, Creed’s voice and legs were permanently damaged, so him and Darius talk in sign, including the tiny little mini abominations.

The dream ended with Darius spotting Hunter and having the same reaction as in the fic canon, until Creed tells him “There was never anyone else, Darius, I promise. Only you.”

And then the dream ended.

Sorry for the ramble, I just thought you might like to know.

Hope you feel better soon, and get plenty of rest,

Gerald.

Hi there I want you to know that you are absolutely making my goddamn day, you seem to have seen my post about being sick but yeah I have a high fever (down from 101.3 to only 99.8 now!) and I’m trying to get my finals stuff done at the same time and this has just absolutely made me so happy. So goddamn happy aaaaa

I love the idea of Darius with a peacock palisman, that suits him so well!!! I love that omg. And I’m such a sucker for the whole slow recovery from injury/adaptation to disability with the help of a loved one thing, I was convinced through most of the midseason hiatus that Raine was going to have significant atrophy from being stuck in Kiki’s cocoon. What a wild dream to have had, thank you so much for sharing with me!!!!

Silver and I have talked a bit on discord about a Self Indulgent AU in which Creed escapes from Belos and somehow ends up stumbling through the door into the Human Realm but then can’t find his way back, and he ends up wearing hats or sweatbands all the time to hide his ears, and he gets a job in a local restaurant in Gravesfield, (he’s worried they won’t hire him because of his hands, but they kind of just look at this massively scarred-up guy with blatant PTSD and no papers and go ”yeah you’re good we’ll get somebody else to do the delicate work” and he slowly learns to cook human food and by ten years later it’s his restaurant, where there’s much less employee turnover than most because he cares about his employees and makes sure they’re paid well and also won’t stand for anybody being assholes to them. He has an (uncropped, undocked) doberman as a therapy dog and Camila vaguely knows him due to her checkups.

The reason I share this is that this morning Silver suggested the kids ending up at Creed’s restaurant after the s2 finale and I wrote a thing and it seems appropriate to share it since you said such nice things <3

——————————————————————————————————

They’d been to the restaurant a few times before they actually saw him. The food was good and they could afford it on summer-job pay; why wouldn’t they? When they did see him, the almost-identical stranger wandering out of the back to check on something, eyes had locked, and there had been a moment, and then Hunter had run. Just got up out of his chair and left the restaurant in a total panic. Gus had gone after him, and the stranger had hurried away with a baffled flush across his face. When their food had come, there was also a piece of cherry pie that no one had ordered and wasn’t on their bill, and a couple of take-away boxes. Willow had carefully transferred her, Hunter, and Gus’s food into them, along with the pie, and gone after the boys, Clover flitting ahead to find them and lead her.

It had ended up being a very, very weird date for Luz and Amity, left behind.

They did come back. The others were ready to avoid the place like the plague, if that was what Hunter wanted, but he said he did want to go back, so they did.

They went a little after lunch rush on a Thursday, so the place wasn’t roaring, but it wasn’t empty either. The waitress told them to sit anywhere they liked, so they found their way to a six-top and positioned themselves around it, Hunter at one end, the others at either side. The waitress handed them menus, smiled, asked if she could get them anything to drink, and it wasn’t in any way weird that she disappeared into the back to get those (two lemonades, a cola, an iced tea, and a tomato juice) but it still felt very much like she was going to fetch the stranger.

Which maybe she was, since he emerged not long after.

He looked tired but gentle, a purple fleece beanie pulled down hard over his ears, brow raised in concern. He put a hand on the back of the unoccupied chair, across from Hunter, and waited until he got a nod from him before sitting down. He didn’t quite meet their eyes at first, none of them, looking down at his hands, latex cook’s gloves not quite hiding his crooked fingers or the way they trembled. Hunter sat still as one of the statues outside, staring, waiting, not ready to speak.

“Hannah-Marie scolded me for not telling her I had a son, after you kids came in last time,” the stranger said, and his voice was painfully familiar. “I tried to say I didn’t know what she was talking about, but she saw the way we both— I ended up saying you were my little brother. Hadn’t seen you in a while. But I think—” and here he raised his head, met Hunter’s eyes with his own, that same colour, one mangled lid that it took real effort not to visibly wince at— “I think you can tell me better than anyone.”

Hunter swallowed. Simultaneously, Willow and Luz reached over to put comforting hands on his knees under the table, and he nodded.

“I think… my uncle might have also been your uncle.” He hesitated, searching for the words, for a way to be more specific without saying things it was still almost impossible to say. He settled on tilting his head a little, brushing his thumb across the scar on his jaw, as if to say this was him, he did this.

The stranger nodded.

“I called him brother,” he said, “at least to myself. But I think you might be right.”

And he offered his hand to shake, across the table, and Hunter took it.

[froggie-recs-fics]

Fic Roundup (up to 9/26/21)

I'm gonna start collecting fics I've read recently to recommend them, because making trope lists takes too long and many fics fall by the wayside. Let me know if you like this new format!

The fandoms in this list are as follows: Marvel (SamBucky, HTP, SpideyPool, WinterHawk, WinterIron, Stony, Stucky, SpiderShield), DCU (Bane/Blake), Inception (Arthur/Eames), Teen Wolf (Sterek).

A * signifies a particular favorite (though I love all these fics)

Marvel

Sam/Bucky

double back by flowermasters (E, 12K, Post-Endgame, Time Loop, Time Travel)

Sam gets stuck in a time loop. In 1943.

Things could be worse, but they could certainly be better.

Companion piece here: quick time

I'll explain everything to the geese by napricot (Post-Endgame, E, 50K, Sam can talk to birds)

Bucky is so competent that it hurts my feelings is not a rational complaint to have about a person, and yet, after a year of being Captain America and partnering up with Bucky for the new and improved, post-Blip Avengers, that’s kinda how Sam’s feeling.

It’s not great. It maybe leads to Sam making some rash, ill-advised decisions like claiming he has a previously undisclosed superpower, and then getting caught in a web of lies when he ends up actually developing that surprisingly inconvenient superpower. Talking to birds had seemed like a harmless superpower, but it turns out that birds have a lot of opinions, and they don’t hesitate to tell Sam about them, especially when it comes to his supposedly subpar courting skills. Which is ridiculous, because Sam isn’t courting Bucky. Right?

Rumlow/Bucky

**blueprints for a better world series by itallstartedwithdefenestration @astralhux (CATWS, Post-CATWS, Noncon, E, 115K, Dark Main Character)

When Pierce discovers the asset is no longer capable of getting himself hard during recreational use, he tells Rumlow to figure out what the problem is, and to fix it. The solution turns out to be more complicated than anyone expected.

I can't recommend this series enough

Peter/Wade

*Dead Men Walking series by doctorestranged @lazystrawberrymilkshakes (E, 235K, Identity Porn, Slow Burn)

When a series of murders take place, Peter Parker goes undercover in Sister Margaret’s to get intel on Tony Stark’s prime suspect: Deadpool. Peter goes in hoping to get enough information so that Spider-Man can save the day, but like everything in Peter’s life, it becomes a bit more complicated than that and it soon becomes apparent that he might not be the best fit for the job.

All About Chemistry by TwiceBakedPotato @sedatedkoala (No Powers AU, M, CNTW, 74K, Teacher-Student Relationship, Slow Build)

After serving his 20 years in the Marine Corps, Wade Wilson is cashing in his GI Bill and going back to college. He feels like the old man on campus, but that doesn't matter. He likes his classes. He likes learning. And he especially likes his Chemistry professor with the messy brown hair.

Clint/Bucky

Making Me A Habit by Kangofu_CB @kangofu-cb (No Powers AU, T, 20K, Pet Store, Slow Burn, Pining, Misunderstandings)

Bucky is a disabled vet struggling with reintegrating into civilian life. He has a routine and a rhythm, and he doesn't like to let anything - big or small - disrupt it. That all changes the day Bucky finds himself inside CATastrophe, the local pet rescue, recovering from a panic attack in the back room of the shop.

He’s used to walking by the place, not visiting, but the next thing Bucky knows, he’s hanging signs and being used as a climbing tree for a bunch of freshly-acquired kittens. And he just...keeps going back. First for the kittens, then for the disaster shop owner who rescues actual kittens from actual trees and teaches archery as a side-gig, and eventually because he’s hopelessly in love.

(Clint was in love before Bucky ever walked in the door.)

*Nameless by AvaKelly (Post-CATWS, M, 101K, Time Travel, Time Loop, Slow Burn)

A gun is pointed at him before he can even move from his position, the Soldier's metal arm steady in its aim. Clint sighs.

"Nemo," Clint says. "It's tattooed on your wrist, right here," he lifts his right hand and taps his left index finger where his palm ends.

The Soldier's eyes widen. "How do you know this?"

"I put it there."

Glitter, G-Strings and Other Mission Hazards by flawedamythyst @flawedamythyst (T, 16K, Undercover, Stripper Clint)

“Which is why you need me to shake my booty for cash,” said Clint.

“Precisely,” said Coulson. “You’re the only agent we have who wouldn’t need additional training in the skills of an exotic dancer to take on the mission, and we want to get someone in there as soon as possible.”

Clint nodded, shutting the file. “Okay, awesome. I’ll dig out my sequined g-string.”

“You’ll have full access to requisition any costumes you might need,” said Coulson.

A mission requires Bucky to be Clint's back-up as he goes undercover as a stripper, which gets more difficult with every new costume he comes out in.

Paternal Error by EVVS @skylarkevanson (Post-CATWS, T, 33K, Kid Fic, Established Relationship)

Bucky has never once thought of being a parent. Not since the Winter Solider happened.

Until he falls in love with Clint Barton. And that idiot just keeps collecting children for his flock.

Now Bucky has to pretend like he's good at parenting.

Bucky/Tony

Forms of Love by bear_bell (Post-CACW, E, 33K, Split Personalities)

Months after the Avengers' dispute in Germany, the team returns to the US and moves back into the tower. As always, everyone pretends that nothing happened. Tony is just fine with this. He's used to pretending, and he'll be damned if he lets any of them see him flinch.

Tony's the bad guy, after all. He's used to it. He's fine with it. He's good at it.

Only now, there's something far worse loitering around the tower - The Winter Soldier. No one notices the guy at first, but when they do, Tony figures that he should have the soldier's back.

Birds of a feather should flock together, and the bad guys should start a book club.

Steve/Tony

While You Were Sleeping by betheflame @betheflame (No Powers AU, M, 65K, While You Were Sleeping AU)

It's been years since Steve Grant Rogers Drysdale has spoken to his twin, Ransom. So it was quite a shock when he was summoned to a hospital and found out that Ransom was in a coma.

Even more shocking? That Ransom is engaged. To Tony Stark.

Steve/Bucky

The Road Goes Ever On And On by PipGraham (Omegaverse AU, M, Noncon, Graphic Violence, 20K, Road Trip, Pre-Serum Steve, Past Domestic Violence)

When Brock's continued domestic abuse puts not only Steve's life in danger, but also that of his unborn pup, he flees into the night with just a small backpack of clothes and almost no money to his name.

Steve quickly runs into trouble as he tries to embark on a 3-day cross-country bus journey back home to New York City.

He meets a kind veteran when he most needs a helping hand.

Just Words by LadyRazzle (crimegimp) @ladyrazzle (Pre-CATFA, Soulmate AU, T, 2K, Fluff)

Inspired by that now legendary post: "soulmate AU where you wake up on your 18th birthday with the first words your soulmate will say to you tattooed on your body so you’ll know them when you meet them." Well what if they appear the moment you turn 18, rather than just the day? And what if by the time you turn 18, you'd already fallen in love?

Bucky wasn’t eager to discover what the words said. He already knew what he wanted them to say. He always had.

Peter/Steve

Forgetting It's There by spinstitcher (stygian) (NR, 8K, Crack, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Porn)

“You’re Captain America,” he blurts out.

“What?” says Captain America, looking a little wide-eyed. He casts a nervous glance at the girl at the counter – he has nothing to worry about there, she’s rocking out to her iPod and could care less what they’re talking about – and says, “No, uh, Steve, it’s just, I’m Steve.”

“Right,” says Peter, and then because his brain-to-mouth filter had apparently been completely destroyed in the fight on Oscorp Tower: “Hey, your butt really is as tight as it looks on TV.”

DCU

Bane/Blake

7 Deadly Ass(as)sins by teacuphuman @teacuphuman09 (AU, E, 23K, BDSM)

Bane and Barsad own a sex shop and John needs a job.

Straws by Menirva (Bane/Blake/Barsad, AU, E, 38K, BDSM)

John works in a smoothie shop.

He has a knack, a second sense if you will, for being able to look at a person and know what they're going to order. It's not the most spectacular gift in the world but he likes being able to figure people out and he's never wrong.

Except for this scruffy asshole who is clearly just ordering the wrong thing to fuck with him.

How is he even finishing an extra-large?

Inception

Aurthur/Eames

Rough Trade by Whisky (whiskyrunner) @whiskyrunner (AU, E, 23K, Internalized Homophobia)

Arthur is an investment banker. He is professional and efficient. He's a halfway decent cook. He's totally independent and has been since the age of eighteen. Maybe he's tired all the time because he works about ninety hours a week which is twice what normal people do, but he's rich and he's competent at his job. He's almost thirty, and already a success.

And there are some things Arthur is not. For instance: Arthur is not gay.

Lucky by earlgreytea68 @earlgreytea68 (M, 37K, Kid fic)

Arthur finds a baby.

Teen Wolf

Stiles/Derek

Cut to the Bone by standinginanicedress (Omegaverse AU, E, 112K, Secret Relationship, Enemies to Lovers kinda)

“Not that it’s any of your god damn business, but my name is Stiles. Do you need something?”

The alpha grins. All teeth, shiny white, straight as an arrow. He’s got this sculpted perfection to him that Stiles is sure has worked on all the omegas he’s ever encountered before, but Stiles stands his ground and narrows his eyes. “A date.”

Stiles looks him up and down, slowly, from the black shoes on his feet, to his uniform khakis and blazer littered with pins, to his face. He frowns, makes a face, and says, “pass.”

Cornerstone by Vendelin (Human AU, E, 83K, Marine Derek, Blind Stiles, Friends to Lovers)

Suffering from PTSD, ex-Marine Derek Hale moves back to Beacon Hills to open a bookshop and find a calmer life. That’s where he meets Stiles, completely by accident. Stiles is talkative, charming and curious. Somehow, despite the fact that he’s blind, he’s able to read Derek like no one else.

Stand Fast in Your Enchantments by DevilDoll, Rahciach (AU, Graphic Violence, E, 76K, Captivity, Feral Derek)

"Stiles knew damn well what a pissed-off wolf sounded like, and every hair on the back of his neck was telling him that somewhere in this room was a very pissed-off werewolf." An AU in which Derek is feral, Stiles is magical, and they eat a lot of fast food.

The Payoff Pitch by Leslie_Knope (Sports AU, E, 83K, Coming Out, Friends to Lovers)

Derek is on the cusp of his second season with the LA Dodgers, and as the reigning runner-up Rookie of the Year, the pressure’s on him to become the team’s star pitcher and lead them to the playoffs for the first time in five years. He’s trying to deal with the burden of expectations and really has zero desire to spend any extra time or energy on anything that isn’t baseball.

But then he meets Stiles.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

tuxedo iv, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader, mentions of previous jungkook x reader

summary: Your life? Oh, it’s normal. Your cat turned into a man yesterday and you just now humped his leg to orgasm. Sorry, what? That’s not normal? O-Of course, it is! It’s like... having a roommate! You argue because you recorded him without his consent. You eat noodles that he’s trying not to bat at all meal. There are skeletons in your closet. Your fingers get stuck in a Chinese finger trap and then you get fingered. Totally normal, by the way!

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, mentions of the coronavirus pandemic; possibly full-on crack; Yoongi LOVES his box; smut (fem reader, mild restraint, penetrative sex, forced orgasms, intentional voyeurism (tsk tsk, Shooky), fingering); domestic and soft moments with your cat-man; non-idol!AU - cat!Yoongi x human!reader; ft shy boy Jeon Jungkook (gasp!!!) POV and bestfriend!Kim Seokjin POV; breaking of the fourth wall; you ARE a furry, oh well

yes, I reference Jin’s iconic Billboard interview answer, The Lion King (1994), Yoongi’s BTS café cereal milkshake, Bill Nye the Science Guy, PENTAGON’s ‘DO or NOT’ / ‘Shine’ / ‘Humph!”, “you got no jams”, The Addams Family (1991) – also there’s a bit of a meme scavenger hunt, I reference too many to list XD

–

part i | part ii | part iii

-

So.

You kinda.

Humped your cat-man’s thigh to orgasm.

You animal.

“Ah… Yoongi,” you started as your cat… man tilted his head, blinking slowly. Unnerving. Why was he staring like that? It reminded you of his previous cat self, where Shooky would watch you with his minty-green eyes, cat face expressionless, whiskers unmoving. What were cats thinking about all the time anyway?

Better yet, what the fuck was Min Yoongi thinking?

You knew what you were thinking. You were thinking that you couldn’t stare at you cum stain on his pink silk pajama leg all day, because that was a master yikes. He had tons of clothes still piled next to the front door of your apartment. All you had to do was convince him to change his outfit. Simple. Easy. Don’t make this weird. Be casual. Be cool as a cucumber. Chill out.

“Um… You should… take off the pajamas… so I can wash them… there are still more clothes you need to try on from the order, right…?”

Your dignity threw up their hands. Why do I even bother being here? I get ignored, the brain in here is smoother than KY Jelly on glass, and you would know, wouldn’t you, you–

“Take them off for me.”

“… P… Pardon?”

“I’m joking.”

He raised an eyebrow, glancing down at your raised hands. You abruptly dropped them, shoving them behind your back. When did that happen? Why did you make grabby hands like that? Surely not because you were expecting anything, right? Definitely not. Not you.

You need help. 

Yoongi turned around, black fur tall swishing, the back of his pink silk pants half-lowered. Your jaw went slack, only to forcefully shut back into place as you realized he was still wearing his black boxer briefs since you had spent yesterday sewing tail holes in his convenience store underwear. Of course, he was still wearing them. There was no reason to take them off.

What, did you want to look at his booty again or something?

(Yes.)

He went through the doorframe of your bedroom without saying a word. 

Hold on a second.

Did Yoongi let you ride his thigh to orgasm, be sweet to you for two seconds, only to fucking bounce without a peep of acknowledgment? Just fucking yeet? Act like that was totally ordinary behavior and saunter off?

Say sike right now.

A millisecond of bravery shot through you and you bolted out of your chair, your desk rattling with your sudden action.

"Yoongi–!"

You nearly collided into him. You weren’t expecting him to be facing you and you yelped in surprise, skidding on your heels. His hands stopped your hips, freezing you in place so you didn't barrel headfirst into his chest. You flailed about, struggling to regain your balance. All this happening while he continued giving you that deadpan stare. Did anything faze this (cat) man? Shit, you were too close to his face. So close you could feel his breath on your nose. 

"You should change too."

Brain malfunctioning at the softness of his tone.

"... W-What?"

Then your neck, ears, face, even your past and future self, the whole timeline became hotter than a supernova, brain erupting into nuclear fusion as Yoongi's deft fingers slid up to the waistband of your leggings, hooking underneath, stroking your skin. He leaned forward, dark eyes out of your vision, chin hovering above your shoulder. 

"Urk?!"

He started pushing your leggings down. 

He started.

Pushing.

Them. 

DOWN!!!

"You can't stay like this all day, right?" Yoongi murmured gently, voice so deep it was resonating in your empty brain, completely clear of all thoughts except those cool fingers pushing your black leggings down, the skintight fabric catching your soaked panties and taking those on the path to hell too, which was probably where you were headed at the rate this was going. "It would be a good idea to change clothes, I think."

You think, Yoongi?

Not you. 

You don't have think. 

A shrill barrage of low meowing cut through the silence.

Your phone was ringing violently in your room. Yoongi paused, backing up with a frown.

"Why is your ringtone a cat chattering?" he asked, tilting his head quizzically. The continuing sonata of cat chitters escalated before his dark eyes narrowed in recognition. He glared at you and pulled his hands away from your hips, snapping you out of your daze.

"You recorded me?"

"What, what, what?" You blinked rapidly, hearing the familiar sharp chirps and barks of Shooky the cat yelling at birds outside the window. "Oh! Well, yeah... it was funny," you explained weakly, trying to shake out the fog of your horny brain. 

"There's nothing funny about trespassers," Yoongi hissed, turning his heel and swiftly marching away. 

"Trespassers?" you echoed, blinking in confusion. That’s why he yelled at them as a cat? Did he think he owned all the land the sun touches or something? The sound was getting louder and louder, indicating the call was about to be missed. No time to think about it. You rushed back into your room, nearly half tripping with your leggings only partway on your ass, scrambling to answer your phone. There was an uncomfortable squish between your legs. Yikes. You did need to change. 

"Hello? Oh, yes, the video? I'm putting it in the Dropbox right now," you babbled, clicking out of a bizarre pop-up ad with some brown-haired guy in a sienna floral shirt and a boxy smile before placing the exported video in the shared Dropbox folder. 

"Sorry, yeah, I know I usually have it done earlier. It's been a weird couple of days..."

-

Kim Seokjin was furious. 

Furious! 

His best friend ignored his face. His beautiful face! How could she! He fumed, deciding to instead spend his time wisely, as he always did.

He stared at his reflection and nodded, stroking his chin. Yes. A true winner. Look at that brilliant smile. Perfect. He looked great today, as he did every day. Seokjin looked away from the mirror on his desk and went back to his MapleStory life.

-

After a quick change and final edits of the completed video sent off to the client, you left your room to find that Yoongi had stacked his new clothes on the coffee table. The brown cardboard box was on the sofa with him (???), as if it was a human being instead of an ordinary box. He had neatly folded the plastic packaging and placed it on the kitchen counter so you could sort it into the correct recycling. 

"Oh... thanks."

He was now wearing a white t-shirt and black pants that actually seemed like they fit, the back of said pants halfway down his butt to accommodate for his tail. He was watching that historical drama; eyes glued the television. The dark brown orbs were hidden by his curtain of black hair. His pointed black ears were turned away from your direction, as if he had no desire to listen to anything you had to say.

As usual.

Yoongi's response was grunting disapprovingly at you. 

You sighed, feeling a little guilty.

"To be fair, I couldn't really ask your consent when you were a cat."

Your cat-man appeared to be out of fucks to give. "You should do laundry," he huffed gruffly. 

You scooted away awkwardly. "Er... yeah. Let me order some delivery for lunch first..."

-

"Yoongi."

"What?"

"What are you doing?"

He stared at his chopsticks, holding them up high. 

"Hmm..."

His pink lips twisted, narrowing his eyes. The fingers in his other hand twitched. He had been staring at the noodles in his ramen for the past five minutes. They were probably cold now. You were getting a bit worried that he didn't like carbs or something. But then you realized that wasn't the case.

His fingers twitched again. 

"They're noodles. Not string."

Yoongi didn't reply, itching to bat at the long noodles. 

"Just put them in your mouth."

He gave you this look. As if to tell you, you don't usually say that. Usually someone else tells you that. 

You thinned your mouth into a line. 

"I know you're admiring the skinny legend that is noodles, but, yes, they're edible. Need I remind you that you used to eat string and I had to pull it out of your mouth when you choked on it?"

Yoongi scowled. Apparently, he did not like being reminded. It wasn’t that pleasant for you to remember either. At least you never had to wait until it passed through his body and never had to pull it out of the other end (ew). He peered them for several more seconds before putting them in his mouth. You noticed his ears perked up as he ate. 

"You like them?" you asked.

He hummed, not looking at you. Was Yoongi still angry about the recording thing? You weren't changing your ringtone regardless of his dissatisfaction. It was cute. You liked it. And he was being a drama queen, acting all catty.

Hold on. 

He was a cat. 

(Man.)

-

"What is this?"

"Dessert."

You took a sip and choked a little at the grainy taste. 

"Is that cereal?"

"Yeah. It's too hard. Better this way."

You gawked at him, holding the weird cereal milkshake with one hand and his half-sewn pants in the other. Was Yoongi being serious or fucking with you? You couldn't tell. His expression was completely neutral. His cat ears were straight up, trained in your direction, judging your reaction. He lifted his free hand and dropped a handful of rice crisps on the top of the thick white drink.

Well. 

Not your preferred thick white drink. 

(You nasty.)

He nodded sagely and sat down beside you. 

"Show me how to sew."

-

We interrupt your regularly scheduled program for you to, please, consider the following. 

See, by all recommendations of building healthy relationships, you should have been a responsible human being and had a serious, but necessary, conversation with your (new?) cat-man. 

Hey, Yoongi, I find you quite physically attractive and we had that moment in my bedroom, so maybe there's some chemistry and, oh, I don't know, maybe you could stick that prefect looking dick inside me because I've been thinking about it nonstop since (checking watch) the literal second I realized it existed, not to be too forward or anything, you know?

That kind of speech could get you a quick restraining order in most cases, but this was your cat (man) who had lived with you – maybe against his will but, then again, he got fed regularly and when you were previously a stray you can’t complain.

So. 

Do or not?

Hmm...

You could have admitted these things, but, alas, this was not the way. No, the way was to remain an absolute fucking mess every time Yoongi leaned over your shoulder to inspect your needlework, nearly stabbing yourself in the finger, your heart leaping your throat, strangling yourself with anxiety. 

Fun!

Could everything be quickly solved by telling the truth?

Debatable. Yoongi didn’t seem like the kind of (cat) man to give you a straight answer. Not because he couldn’t. Mostly because he seemed to enjoy watching you struggle. Were you picking up on that? 

No. You were too busy thinking about dick. 

His dick. 

Honestly, don't know if you should laugh or cry right now. 

-

Jeon Jungkook flipped his phone around and around in his hand, scrunching up his face.

Should he say something?

Yes. No. Yes? No. Yes… No, no, no.

He sighed and threw his phone onto his bed.

He missed and it slid off, hitting the floor. 

That was a bad sign.

“Shit.”

He dived onto the bed, scabbing around on the hardwood to pick up the fallen device. Ah, how come he was thinking about this now? He knew why. He had watched a funny cat video of a tuxedo cat and it reminded him of a certain naughty little fluffball always following around a certain owner. Jungkook hadn’t contacted said owner in nearly a year. Wouldn’t it look bad if he said anything now? But he couldn’t not think about it either. That smile was on his mind all the time now. That feeling from back then, floating around in his head. He sighed again, followed by inhaling with his upper teeth pressed against his inner lower lip, creating a loud sucking sound that no one else could hear because he lived alone.

Alone.

Jungkook lifted his phone, dying sunlight reflecting off the screen, a shine that blinded him for a short moment. He clicked his tongue, squinting as he spied the number still on the screen.

“Ah, why am I always a loser in front of love?”

He wasn’t really saying it to anyone in particular. No one could reply to him anyway.

He tossed the phone carelessly on the pillow and it slid behind it, falling in between the mattress and the bedframe.

“Shit!”

Jungkook spent five minutes fishing his phone out of the narrow crevice before firmly placing it on the bed beside him, pointing at it angrily, glaring at it.

“No! Bad.”

The phone did nothing. It was not sentiment.

Humph! He let out a frustrated puff of breath and flopped down on the bed.

His phone flew up from the force of his flop and smacked him in the nuts.

“SHIT!”

-

“Huh, you pick up things so fast. So meticulous.”

You watched as Yoongi brought the needle through the fabric in slow but clean strokes, following your previous demonstration. For someone who only had opposable thumbs for less than two days, he was surprisingly dexterous. Seemed like he could do a lot with his hands. No. Stop that. Stop being weird.

“Are you a genius?”

Yoongi didn’t hesitate, not looking up.

“Of course.”

You regretted asking. He continued, oblivious to your annoyed expression.

“I’m a cat.”

“All cats are geniuses?” you retorted disbelievingly.

“Most of them are.” His eyes flickered to you, eyebrows raising. “Compared to humans anyway.”

Was this a dig at you and your missing brain cells after running into things chasing after him and your brain exploding at his hotness? Which he wasn’t, by the way. Yeah, that’s right. Take that, Min Yoongi! You’re being mean, so therefore your attractiveness points are going down in this brain, yes, they are and there’s nothing you can do about it, yup, absolutely NOTHING–

He held up the pants, showing off his handiwork.

“Did I do a good job?”

His voice was soft, unsure, head slightly tilted, velvety ears eagerly perked to listen to your response.

Oh no.

Oh nooo.

Oh nooooooo.

He’s cute.

“Yeah. That looks amazing, Yoongi,” you heard yourself saying, smiling at him.

His fair-skinned cheeks flushed pink, lowering the pants quickly to snip the excess thread off, placing the needle in the cat-shaped pincushion like you had done earlier so he could carefully tie a knot to seal his hard work.

Shit.

You were whipped for him.

Damnnit.

To be honest, nothing had changed. You were whipped for him as a cat too.

“I’m going to clear out some space the closet so you have somewhere to put your clothes, okay?”

“A-ah… Thanks…” he mumbled, picking up another pair of pants. Jeans this time.

“Oh, with these you can simply cut the hole. No need to sew because this type of fabric won’t fray too much. Ah, but not directly on the seam. Maybe here?” You pointed slightly to the right of the back middle seam. Your mouth kept talking despite not having any more instructions for him. “Did you know the butt rip was fashionable among women for a little while? Under the pocket though, not the center. That’s just weird.”

Yoongi tilted his head the other way.

“Women are weird,” he said in a deadpan voice.

You narrowed your eyes. “Oi.”

He picked up the scissors, raising an eyebrow at you. “Are you not weird?”

You opened your mouth to reply, but nothing came out. He’s got you there. Shit. You puffed your cheeks and turned around, stalking off to your bedroom. Why was he always right? One day, he won’t be right and you’ll mark it on your fucking calendar. Humph.

You slowed at your doorframe, remembering his sheepishly proud face as he showed off his sewing. Crap. What was Min Yoongi so cute for? And how were you supposed to look at other guys after knowing your cat (man) was so damn adorable? And observant and diligent? And driven to be independent, asking questions and trying to do things on his own not even forty-eight hours after becoming human? Cooking, sewing, folding his own clothes… what’s next, playing the fucking piano?

Yeah, right.

You snorted and went into your bedroom.

-

“What’s this?”

You looked up, half-buried in idol merchandise you didn’t even know you had. How long had these sweatshirts been sitting here in their plastic packages? And these posters left in the tubes at the back of your closet? You shouldn’t own so much stuff. You should sell it. You weren’t going to, because these were limited edition items and you would have to be crazy to sell stuff with the cute faces of your favorite idols. You stuck you head out of the closet to see what Yoongi was referring to.

“What? Oh, that?”

You wheezed in embarrassment, ducking back in the closet, pretending to be busy.

“Uh… so… YouTube and Twitch had a crackdown on using copyrighted music and I thought, well, maybe I could maybe make my own, so I brought a keyboard but, uh…”

You rubbed the back of your head sheepishly, trying to figure out how to say you had no musical inclination and only had the ability to appreciate it.

“Basically, I got no jams.”

The keyboard was still in its box. You had opened it and attempted to learn piano, but well, you were shit. Also, you gave up pretty quickly. It was embarrassing considering you had spent so much money on it and were all confident when buying it, only for it to become a hidden occupant in the back of your closet. This was before Shooky – er, Yoongi – had come into your life. Yes. It had been there for literal years.

“I was going to donate it,” you added with a sigh.

You suddenly noticed something out of the corner of your eye. You frowned and reached in, grabbing the thin, hard object before pulling it out.

A…

Skeleton in your closet.

A long-lost Halloween decoration? Why was this here?

“Can I have it?”

You looked up, holding the mysterious plastic skeleton like a small child. “What?”

Yoongi pointed to the keyboard box, black tail swishing rapidly. There was a liveliness in his dark brown eyes and his pointed ears were sticking straight up. You narrowed your eyes.

“You don’t want that skinny box for some reason, do you?” you accused.

He pursed his lips at you, scowling. “No, you can throw away the box. I want to keep the keyboard.”

Huh? “Uh… okay, I guess. More space in the closet, I suppose. Oh, wait…” You stumbled into the back of the closet, feeling around. “I brought a stand for it, hold on… fuck!” You jammed your finger against a metal pole and howled, quickly retreating your hand to massage it. Fuck, that hurt! Scowling, you reached back in to grab the metal keyboard stand and yank it out from between your tightly packed clothes.

“Are you dead?”

“Shit!”

You jumped nearly ten feet, almost banging your head on the clothing rail if it wasn’t for Yoongi’s swift movement of grabbing your shoulders, pulling you to him. He didn’t have to pull far, because he was right behind you. How did he always sneak up on you when he wore a damn bell around his neck that announced his presence? Sorcery. Aliens. Voodoo witchcraft. Now you were convinced these things existed.

(Your cat turning into a man wasn’t enough for you to believe in magic? What’s wrong with you?)

“You’re really clumsy,” Yoongi remarked.

No, you’re spooky, you thought. One of your hands was on his chest. Instant heart palpitations. And handsome. Crap.

“Are you going to do something weird again?”

Weird? You were never weird. What was this man going on about? You needed to reprimand him. Put him in his place! Enough is enough, Min Yoongi! You can’t win over me every time! You raised your head to face him, opening your mouth to give him a piece of your mind.

Yoongi was centimeters away from your face.

You froze.

Ice effect overlapping your whole body.

You dropped the keyboard stand.

Thankfully, it simply fell against your clothing, leaning against your sweatshirts. It stayed upright, held up by the clothing. You didn’t have to worry about it for the time being. It was perfectly fine, unlike you. You were not fine. Not fine at all, staring at Yoongi’s upturned upper lip and unreadable dark brown eyes, slowly blinking at you. Hands on your shoulders, holding you close to him.

Not letting go.

!!!

-

Jeon Jungkook placed his phone on his desk and chopped the air, threatening it.

It wasn’t sentient.

He still didn’t trust it.

He glared at his phone angrily and shuffled back to his bed to have a nice, calm rest that didn’t involve his nuts getting destroyed. Ugh. He was bored. He had plenty to do. Schoolwork. Studying. Cleaning his room covered in clothes. Attempting to cook.

Jungkook made a face at the ceiling.

The last time he tried to cook some glazed sweet potatoes they had been glued to the plate somehow. A neat magic trick, but not edible. He couldn’t get them to unstick, much less be eaten. He had to order out that night. Come to think of it, he spent most of his money on ordering out. Maybe that was a bad habit.

He ran a hand through his bleached, blond hair that had too much toner in it so it had turned slightly silvery-purple. An at-home experiment. Another bad habit.

Jungkook groaned, rolling onto his face.

“I need someone older to take care of me,” he mumbled into the sheets.

Someone older… with a certain tuxedo cat, perhaps? He pouted even though no one was there to witness his cuteness.

“Ahhhhhhh…”

He yelled quietly into his bedding, letting go.

Finally thinking about you.

In front of you, he could tease. He could poke fun. It was easy. You were just so flustered around him, not really trying to hide your attraction to him. The first time he had met you was when he went bowling with Seokjin-hyung (he won, much to the disdain of his hyung). You had stopped by to say hello and Seokjin had introduced you two. It had been a fairly innocent meeting, mostly because for a long time Jungkook couldn’t open his mouth to say anything at all. You were wearing a huge white t-shirt with a colorful strawberry graphic, a wide-brimmed straw hat, and white sneakers with black laces. It had been a hot summer day, he remembered. You were already pretty simply by standing there, chatting animatedly with his hyung. Jungkook tried not to look too closely, sneaking glances in between your conversation.

Seokjin had absolutely no qualms about shitting on your outfit.

“Yah, grandma, you’re off to pick some strawberries in the field or something?”

You had shoved him, rolling your eyes. “You’re a grandpa too! Look at you, losing to kid.”

Was that referring to him? “Ah, I’m not a kid.” Shit. His Busan dialect slipped out a little in his nervousness, deepening his voice.

Your cheeks had peppered pink. “A-ah… right…”

Oh?

Oh!

Oh!!!

You shook your head abruptly and reached into your tuxedo-cat-printed tote bag. “Here’s your freaking hard drive, you monkey,” you had said to Seokjin, handing over the small paper bag.

“Did you manage to restore all my files?” Seokjin asked worriedly, completely ignoring your insult.

You shrugged, looking rueful. “I don’t know how many you had, but I did the best I could.” You leaned forward, eyes narrowing, whispering in his ear. Didn’t matter. Jungkook was close enough to hear.

“Stop downloading porn!”

Jungkook snorted.

Seokjin glared at you. “Excuse me, I am living a healthy lifestyle, do not judge me!” he hissed. “And not in front of the child!”

Yeah, well, Jungkook didn’t let you think he was a child for long.

He wasn't really sure why he was attracted to you. It wasn't only because you were pretty. He just had a strong urge to get a reaction out of you. Ah, maybe that was it. He liked seeing your reactions to things and did everything he could to get more and more interesting reactions out of you. You never told Jungkook to stop. You told Seokjin to stop all the time.

"I swear if you make one more pun, I'm going to tie your tongue into a knot!"

"Then I'd really be tongue-tied, eh? Eh?! WAIT, NO, WATCH THE FACE, NOT MY FACE!!!"

Jungkook couldn't help himself. He had to mess with you. 

Fuck. 

(Yes, actually.)

He couldn't stop. It was too fun. It didn't help that you had a cute surprised face. Didn't help that you had a great smile. Didn’t help that you had an amazing body under your clothes and knew exactly how to use it (Jungkook wouldn’t admit it, but he learned a lot from you). Didn't help that you would chase after your tuxedo cat and scoop up that furball even after getting railed by him, which Jungkook found very impressive. 

"Shooky, you loon, I told you to stop running on the counters..."

And you would cradle that cat to your chest, petting his head and waiting for him to purr and lick your nose before releasing him, satisfied that he was no longer going to be a menace. He still was though. He was a cat. You forgave Shooky every time. 

Just like how you let Jungkook get away with everything. 

Present Jungkook frowned, rolling onto his back, frowning at the ceiling. Maybe you thought he was a fuckboy and had a negative image of him. He scratched his head, tongue in cheek, thinking hard. No. You didn't seem like the type. You were never angry at him, not really, not even when he interrupted your work to mess around in bed. Exasperated, maybe, but it never seemed like you were holding an internal grudge or upset at his nonchalant actions. Ah, but he hadn’t tried to talk to you in almost a whole year. Would you think he was a dick if he tried to contact you now? He couldn’t ask you. He couldn’t ask your best friend. Seokjin-hyung still had no idea. 

Jungkook laughed to himself. 

He kind of went behind his hyung's back, whoops.

He looked to his left side, the side you used to fall asleep on when he spent the night. He could imagine it, your past self and his past self, your hair on your pillow, blankets loosely over your chest, his hand on your breasts as you slept. 

A pair of mint-green eyes glaring at him from the left side of your body. 

Jungkook remembered poking that pink nose with his index finger, the rest of his hand still on your tits. The tuxedo cat had given him a very displeased look. 

"Are you mad?"

The cat didn't reply. He was a cat. 

"You're really lucky. You get to be with her every day," Jungkook had whispered, not wanting to wake you up. "She takes good care of you, you know. I see how much she loves you."

The cat closed his eyes, resting his furry head on your arm. 

"Do you love her back?"

Maybe. Maybe not. Jungkook didn't know. He wasn't a cat. He couldn't ask in cat language. He let go of your breasts for a second to scratch the top of Shooky's head, right between those velvety ears. He began purring like a little motor. 

You continued your adventures in la la land, oblivious to this interaction. 

"I guess cats are kind of simple, huh?" Jungkook mused, smoothing out the black fur on top of that little head. "You don't have to think about much. You don't have to get a job, plan for the future, or worry about being a good husband."

His hand lowered.

"But I do."

You breathed softly against him, nuzzling closer to his body. Jungkook put his hand back on your breasts and you stilled, lost in your dreams. He breathed out, warmth against your skin. He saw the side of your lips twitch ever so slightly upwards, but maybe it was only his imagination wishing to see what he wanted.

Only a wish.

He had placed his nose by your cheek and breathed in, losing himself in dreams as well. 

-

Yoongi looked into your eyes. 

Then both of you turned to opposite sides and sneezed loudly.

"Fuck–"

"That was horrible," Yoongi hissed, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand and backing up. "Ugh, human bodies are awful."

You shook your head roughly. "Someone must be thinking about me... and you, I guess..." you mumbled, clearing your head before prodding him in the chest. "Also, last time I checked, now you're human too, so jokes on you. Hope you enjoy the suffering!" You stuck your tongue out childishly.

Yoongi gave you an annoyed look, reaching over you to grab the keyboard stand. You stiffened at his closeness, but he quickly withdrew, taking the metal stand and leaving you disappointed, but not surprised. Couldn't even pretend to be shocked.

He lifted it up so it wouldn’t drag on the floor and began to walk out of the room, ignoring you.

Classic. 

You thinned your mouth into a line and picked up the white plastic skeleton. What to do with this? Fuck it. Back into the closet it goes, along with your winter wardrobe, summer wardrobe, and other knickknacks.

Well. 

Maybe you could donate a couple things to charity. 

Like this Chinese finger trap. Why was this here?

You stuck your fingers in it. 

S... shit!

Yoongi reappeared to grab the keyboard. You opened your mouth, about to ask for help, looking up to see your cat-man standing in the doorframe of your bedroom, glaring. Very displeased and disapproving, reminding you a whole lot of a certain tuxedo fluffball.

"I'll say it again."

Huh? You gave him a confused look. 

He pointed to his pointed, velvety black ears. 

"I'm a cat, duh."

And then he walked out. Fuck him. You didn't need his help. 

-

You couldn’t get it off.

Panik!

Yes, you can. It was just a finger trap. You were smart. You graduated university. You had been a human for many more years than Min Yoongi. He had been human for two days! And besides, Yoongi was mean. You didn’t need a meanie to help you. You were a strong, independent woman who didn’t need no (cat) man.

Kalm.

You…

You…

You couldn’t get it off!!!

PANIK!!!!!!!

-

“… What are you doing?”

You were the epitome of the emoji holding back tears.

“Y… Yoongi…” you whined.

He blinked at you, holding the manual of the keyboard upside down. The keyboard was already set up on the stand, pushed up against one of the walls of your living room. He was using the cardboard box that his clothes came in – he really loved that damn box – as a makeshift seat.

“Are you dying?”

You held up your hands, pouting. The bronze dragon Chinese finger trap was still stuck on your index fingers. It had been roughly twenty, maybe thirty minutes.

Your cat-man just blinked at you and it.

“I… can’t get it off… Help…”

He raised an eyebrow and put the manual on the keyboard before walking over to you. He placed his chin in between his index finger and his thumb, frowning. Looking this way and that. The realization was slowly kicking in.

Yoongi wasn’t hiding his smirk very well.

“You know how to take it off!” you howled, smacking him in the chest.

He cackled, backing up as you repeatedly whacked him with the back of your hands, furious because it was obvious that he knew what to do and was simply not doing it to piss you off, his grin getting wider and wider, still not saying anything, this little shit, backing up into your living room as you chased him, stupid cat-man was fucking fast, dodging you easily, your joined hands and annoyed demeanor making you a bit wobbly.

“Min Yoongi, I swear I’ll–”

“You’ll what?” he teased, raising his hands in mock innocence. “Maybe I don’t know?”

You scowled at him. “You definitely know.”

He smirked.

Shit.

It was sexy and you were supposed to be mad!

You were next to the keyboard now. And a certain something. Hm. You jerked your head to the cardboard box. His eyes widened.

“You wouldn’t do such a thing.”

“I would.”

“You wouldn’t, you heathen.”

“You better fucking believe I would!”

(You’re threatening to recycle a cardboard box to force your cat-man to get you out of a metal finger trap that you put yourself in. Um, are you okay? Better yet, are both of you okay???)

He marched over to you, relenting with an angry huff, yanking up your hands.

“There’s a trick to it, of course.”

He pressed the dragon’s horns in tandem with the dragon’s beard on either side and the trap released your red fingers, making you gasp at the sudden freedom. Holy shit. You stared at your freed index fingers. You had two hands. Wow. Amazing. Show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique…

Yoongi placed the finger trap on the coffee table.

“Hmph. This thing is probably only worth three dollars.”

You poked your index fingers together, suddenly ashamed. “Sorry I threatened your box.”

Yoongi grunted, cat ears flicking back and forth in annoyance.

You poked his stomach with your index fingers. “Er… I just… wanted you to help me...”

“You weren’t going to do it anyway.”

You puffed your cheeks, narrowing your eyes, irritation flaring back. “Well, maybe I was! What were you going to do, leave me like that, unable to use my hands for the rest of my life?” You jabbed him repeatedly in the chest, driving your point home in between your snappish words. “Hmm? I need hands to do things! Important things!”

Yoongi suddenly grabbed your wrists and held them up over your head.

(Aw shit, here we go again.)

“Y-Yoongi?!”

He raised an eyebrow at you.

“What important things do you need to do with your hands?” he asked.

Oh shit.

Oh no.

Why was his vice suddenly so deep? Did he even know???

Your eyes widened, brain malfunctioning, your last two working brain cells rushing to the library to find the book titled ‘things you can do with your hands’, opening it, reading, handsy things. That was it. That was all you had at this moment. Why was it that your brain had the memory equal to the RAM of a fucking Tamagotchi every time your cat-man touched you?

Oh, yeah, that’s right, because he was a cat literally two days ago and you never thought about fucking your cat because that’s just fucking weird, but now he’s a man, so maybe it’s okay, unless it’s not, and then what does that make you? FUCKING WEIRD, THAT’S WHAT.

You yelped as your back collided to the wall. When had you walked that far? What was going on? What was life??? You were yanked back to reality as Yoongi leaned down, tilting his head, eyebrow still cocked, dark eyes darker from his fluffy black hair falling over his eyes.

“I hear you don’t always like being able to use your hands.”

Holyfuckingshitcrap.

Instantly, your cheerful brain decided to play the memory of you begging Jeon Jungkook to hold down your wrists so you couldn’t stop him and his relentless assault on your pussy, one hand grasping both your wrists and the other rubbing two fingers on your clit, thrusting his hard cock in and out of you as he abused the sensitive bundle of nerves, pinning you to your bed, panting in your face.

“You like this, noona?” Jungkook had purred.

(Respectfully.)

Voice low, deep, and sexy, driving you insane, waves of pleasure crashing into you over and over, pussy throbbing with repeated orgasm.

“F-Fuck, yes, oh fuck, Jungkook, yes… don’t s-stooop…”

Shooky had sat on the highest level of his cat tree, glaring down at you two.

Shit, shit, shit…

Yoongi leaned in even more, eyes disappearing, lips next to your ear. You felt him transfer one of your wrists to his other hand, now holding both with one hand as the other fell against your body.

“In fact, I’ve seen it firsthand,” he whispered, low, soft, dangerous.

Your brain ended the film reel in your head, giving you two mental thumbs-up and beaming happily at you as if it had done a great thing.

No, brain.

You’ve fucked me over and now I’m horny as fuck!

A needy whimper popped out of you as Yoongi’s free hand slipped between your bodies, fingers dancing deftly across the fabric of your sweatshirt, following the rhythm of your racing heart as it went down, down, too fast, sanity unable to keep up, you rising into his touch, his fingers sliding underneath the waistband of your leggings. This pair wasn’t as tight as the previous pair, but the fabric still clung to your skin just as tightly.

Wait. Is that you? Moaning?

(Yes.)

He dragged them down your hips, having to let go of the waistband for a moment to push them past the sides before resuming, you moaning in the space where he should have a human ear, but he didn’t, because Yoongi was a cat-man and his pointed furry ears were at the top of his head.

“Y… Yoongi…”

“Hm?”

His soft lips lightly pressed against your ear and you shivered. His grip on your wrists wasn’t very tight. You could break out any time. He was only loosely holding you.

“I… I am…” you quivered, voice shaking.

“I want to make you feel good.”

His murmur was so gentle, so calm, so quiet that it almost didn’t feel real. Almost a purr.

“Do you want me to make you feel good?”

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

“Yes.”

You said it.

Your panties were leaving with your leggings, shoved down mid-thigh. Your name in your ear, spoken by Min Yoongi, his body hovering over yours, black hair against your cheek, his fingers slipping between your legs, your heart slamming in your chest, thighs squeezing his hand.

“Feels nice here,” Yoongi mumbled, breath feathering on your skin. A single finger grazed your wetness and you gasped, his raspy chuckle in your ear. “Wet.”

Your eye twitched, slightly annoyed. No, really? Thanks for letting me know, it’s not like I can fucking feel it myself or anything, I absolutely need your riveting play-by-play–

“Urk!”

Yoongi scooped two fingers into your pussy and felt around inside, rubbing his fingertips against your throbbing walls.

“Ah…” He was breathing hard, pushing them in joint by joint, his own inhale shallowing. “Fuck, it’s so tight in here, are you alright?”

Oh, my fucking God, Yoongi, just fucking destroy me, I’m not a virgin!

You sucked in a shaking breath, mentally beating your inner thot back down. “F-Feels really nice, Yoongi… just… a little more…” He sank his fingers all the way to the knuckles. “Fuuuck, yes, oh, fuck yes…”

You rocked your hips into it, moaning, eyes closing, building up a pace, not really waiting for him to figure out that he could move his fingers too. It didn’t matter though, because Yoongi was highly observant and diligent, and, as much as you avoided to admit it, he had seen you get fingered hundreds of times, all over the apartment, in all sorts of embarrassing positions and with plenty of visible, graphic, high-definition detail, better than any porn video.

By – yup, you guessed it – Jeon Jungkook.

Yoongi began his own pace to match yours, thrusting his two fingers in and out until you were a hopeless mess, whining and bucking against his touch, your juices coating his hand, staring up at the ceiling with the tips of his black ears in your peripheral vision, tilted towards you to listen to every single one of your sounds. His heavy exhale invaded your head, lost in Yoongi’s rhythm that was uniquely his, only able to cry out, harder or faster, losing yourself in him, his scent, the smell of your vanilla body wash, and the rapidly strengthening sweetness between your legs rising up despite it dripping down your thighs.

“Yoongi… oh, fuck, Yoongi…”

It just felt too good, speed, strength, sound, wet messy squelches of his fingers entering you over and over, your pussy responding in kind, shuddering around them, clenching tight, hips rocking into every plunge to deepen the stroke, prolonging your own orgasm, savoring the moment.

“You feel so good…”

That wasn’t you.

That was Yoongi.

Whispering in your ear, probably not even realizing his own dirty talk.

“So fucking wet and warm,” he murmured, the rumble purring in his chest, soothing but also far too sexy. “Sucking my fingers back in, fucking me back… You really like me this much?” His lips brushed your ear, chaste kisses compared to the rough fingering of his slippery digits pushing into you repeatedly, the sounds getting louder and lewder because you were getting wetter and wetter. “Am I really that good-looking to you?”

Yoongi, are you BLIND, DEAF, or BOTH???

“Fuck yes, you are, what the fuck?” you gasped out, turning your head slightly, one of his dark brown eyes locking with yours, your jaw clenched with the effort of you holding back your orgasm to respond to his ludicrous question. “You are so fucking handsome I couldn’t even last two days of being in your presence, thirsting after you!”

You heard Yoongi chuckle, the sound resonating and teasing your ear.

“Actually, you couldn’t even last one, remember?” he drawled slyly.

His knuckle grazed your throbbing, aroused clit.

“Fuck!”

Your body twisted, whining wail torn out of you as you came, pushing your head and hands against the wall, nerves sparking and shaking, intense pleasure flooding all over your senses from holding back, breathless whimpers of Yoongi’s name, grinding into his hand. He let go of your wrists. They prickled with pins and needles of lost circulation, but you didn’t give a shit, grabbing his hand between your legs and shoving it back in you before it could retreat, riding out your orgasm, milking it for every single gram of ecstasy, cherishing every single second of another’s hand inside you, not just another but your disturbingly attractive man who was previously a cat sleeping in your lap exactly forty-eight hours ago as you innocently watched American Horror Story.

“Y… Yoongi?” you panted, orgasm petering out, trickling waves subsiding.

“Y… Yes?”

He wasn’t making fun of you. You could hear the nervousness in his voice.

“Can I kiss you?”

His face appeared in front of yours.

“Yes.”

You didn’t think twice.

You closed your eyes and leaned forward, lips on his, your satisfied sigh tickling his skin, kissing him hard, the intimacy you desired for so long, moments you spent all year trying to keep it at bay, no one to show your affection but tiny kisses on Shooky’s furry head, but now one of your hands was cupping Yoongi’s cheek, deepening the kiss, him pressing back against you, sandwiching you between the wall and himself. You let go of his hand between your legs and held both his cheeks, peppering light pecks against that lovely mouth. You wanted to kiss him over and over, so nice, so lovely, his barely-there gasps drifting on your lips with every kiss.

His fingers slipped out and touched your thigh.

You drew back, heart thudding, still holding his face, his round cheeks a little squished in your hands.

He raised his hand and put his pussy-soaked fingers in his mouth.

You jerked your hands back. “Y-Yoongi!” you exclaimed, shocked.

His pink tongue slipped around his fingers, tiny kitten licks to slurp it all up. He hummed, small smirk playing on his lips. You gawked at him.

“Y-You don’t have to–”

“You like it, don’t you?”

You shut your mouth, cheeks burning with heat.

Yoongi smirked wider, nimble tongue slipping around and around, your eyes glued to the movement, brain already dreaming up lecherous scenarios. His dark brown eyes flickered to you, eyebrows rising.

“Hmm…”

“W-What?” you snapped, trying to collect yourself. He was giving you that look again. That enigmatic expression of maybe-maybe-not. Yoongi shrugged, taking his fingers out of his mouth.

“I think we should do that again sometime.”

Your mind went blank.

Again? Now? Later?

Next Tuesday?

WHEN, MIN YOONGI, WHEN?

“… Urk?”

Those cunning dark brown orbs sparkled with mischief. “Hmm, then again, maybe we’ll do something different next time,” he pondered out loud, taunting you with the suggestive depth of his voice. He backed up, tail swaying from side to side, his grin widening, turning into an open-mouthed smirk that showed off his pretty teeth and devious expression.

His next words were the verbal equivalent of pushing your full glass of brainpower right off the table and sending it crashing to the floor.

“I have a lot of things I want to try.”

-

part v

--

masterpost

[dontcallmecarrie]

Replying to the commenters of this post [heads up for angst]:

To @kine-iende, who said:​

hot damn. if "our" justin was a mom-friend in their home-universe, here people would start questioning if justin was in secret a very motherly scrull or something (and be fine with it ^^). but yeah, love the trope too. was it "for the want of a nail" or "through a mirrorm darkly"? well, contrast and a what could have been would be lovely. feel enabled, whenever you want to write this :)

.

I am not very familiar with the concept of Skrulls [...iirc, that’s something introduced in Captain Marvel, which I have yet to get around to], but yeah, that tracks. Assuming it’s a thing they know to look for, though, because here Justin’s being themself is the biggest and most obvious way to establish that they are not canon!Justin.

Sure, they’re identical physically, but the moment either Justin opens his mouth, the jig’s up. 

As is, not five minutes into this strange hellscape where their oldest rival looked at them with no small amount of disdain in his eyes at first, Justin had already managed to charm their way out of holding and into a very relaxed “we’ll keep an eye on him” Avengers custody. 

Well, on paper at least— in reality, most of the team doesn’t really give a damn one way or another, whereas Tony starts out morbidly curious as to just how different NHDD!Justin is to the one he’s used to dealing with, and ends up getting a concentrated dose of All The Feels™ because the moment NHDD!Justin realized this Tony had a metric buttload of undiagnosed-and-constantly-belittled mental health issues and a support system that was equal parts duct tape and caffeine, he went “oh, so this universe is the Hell Timeline, okay, makes sense :) :) :) dammit Ivan you’d better fix this stat”. 

In retrospect, Justin’s not sure when exactly the horror show started; if it was the absolute lack of concern or care the Avengers had for their Tony, or the minute they noticed the gauntness in his face. Maybe the tension between Iron Man and Captain America, or the obvious bravado this Tony used– and the fact that none of the others so much as noticed.

All Justin knows is, a version of someone they care about is hurting, hurting badly and has been for a long time now, and that’s more than enough for them to go “oh, okay, mine now”.

.

For his part, Tony has no idea what the hell’s going on. The non-annoying Justin Hammer who crash-landed an Avengers debrief is...something else, and he’s torn between shock, pleasant surprise, and no small amount of existential angst and jealousy because in the span of a few hours, Tony’s had a brief taste of what some other version of him had for a lifetime, and...

Tony’s not sure how he feels about it. He’s a genius, he can wrap his head around string theory and all that good stuff, but numbers are one thing, having to live with the fact that somewhere out there, a version of him grew up with someone so unfailingly kind and supportive and—Tony can’t think of a better word for it than nurturing— and, in the span of seconds, had been able to call him out on his bullshit and seemed to instinctively push him to be better but not in the demanding way his father or the rest of the world had—

If he thinks about it too long, it makes him want to cry, just a little. Somewhere out there was a Tony who’d been enough for someone, who had never been asked to change himself, who’d been pushed up instead of repeatedly torn down and he didn’t know how to deal. 

He’d thought having a non-annoying Justin around would be funny.

This was not, it was goddamn distressing is what it was, because Tony hadn’t even known it was a possibility but now he is acutely aware of the fact that he got stuck with his Justin— the human embodiment of one of those yappy dogs who nipped at people’s heels thinking they were so tough, despite not being able to back it up.

This Justin was, uh, not that. Tony wasn’t sure if he was always like this, or if it was only with him because he shared a face with someone Justin cared about, but... was he always this much of a mom friend? And where’d that granola bar even come from, anyway? Not that he minded, it was a nice change of pace, but really?

...Tony was really going to miss him, once they figured out a way to send him back home.

.

To the commenter who said:

Stephanie isn’t a canon character, is she? Because if not, NHDD!Justin might be able to pull off a “the birth of my little sister awakened my previously deeply buried parental instincts” to explain his whole… [gestures uselessly].

.

Technically, she could be, in that Justin Hammer has a sister and nephew in canon [according to the wiki and a deleted scene, apparently]. I chose to make her a younger sibling in NHDD, to really emphasize the ‘reincarnated with shitty memory’ aspect of this AU. Specifically, while it’s never specified, Justin’s past life was...not great, and part of it was the fact that their younger sibling was sick. 

With what, they don’t remember anymore, but sick enough that they know health isn’t something to take for granted; sick enough that towards the end, they remember their parents had to choose between paying hospital bills and electricity, remember going to bed hungry because meds were expensive and their next paycheck wasn’t until Friday.

...suffice it is to say, there’s a reason Justin’s so protective of those he cares about, even if his memories faded a bit on the specifics as time went by.

To be fair, canon!Justin also cares for his sister and nephew; it’s just that NHDD!Justin acted more like a third parent than a sibling, once Stephanie was born. 

Bear in mind that canon!Justin’s situation is very different than NHDD!Justin’s, because canon!Justin was basically set up to fail from the start as a normal kid who was constantly compared to a child prodigy two years younger than him and terrible parents. While NHDD!Justin’s situation is similar on the surface, the difference is they’re literally a reincarnated OC, with all the baggage that entails.

Maybe, if their second life hadn’t been surrounded by adults with A+ Parenting Skills, 0/10 Do Not Recommend, their issues and traumas from last time wouldn’t have been exacerbated. If they’d been born to a regular family, Justin would’ve been a good kid but nothing special, and their memories of a past life would’ve faded away by the time they hit puberty.

But instead, they were born to the Hammer family, and proceeded to be put through the wringer. 

Which is bad enough, and meant they immediately started leaning hard on everything from their past life because these people wouldn’t know good parenting if it bit them on the nose, but...then Justin’s little sister was born, which immediately kick-started every older sibling instinct they’d ever had because last time they’d been responsible for their younger sibling’s health and safety and you can probably see where this is going. 

aka yes, some of Justin’s behaviors could arguably be called trauma responses and/or coping mechanisms and it’s something I only realized as I was writing this, and no, this AU was not supposed to be this messed up

Justin’s responsibility, their willingness to deal with shitty parents and do tremendous amounts of emotional labor if it helped anyone they took under their wing? That’s no accident, that’s what happens when a soul has to be the adult, has to step up because nobody else is going to. There’s a reason Justin has so much disdain for Hank Pym and Howard Stark’s immaturity, why they have so little patience for their parents as time goes on; their mental age means the older they get, the more they’re looking at the adults around them and judging them hard.

...ahem. Sorry for getting a bit off-topic, but hey, at least now you know a bit more about what’s going on inside Justin’s head!

And yeah, if he had to bs an explanation for why he’s such a mom friend, Justin’d be more than happy to point to his little sister as an excuse. So long as they know she exists, anyway; if not, he’ll just laugh it off and try to chalk it up to one of the differences between their universes.

.

edit to remove the stuff that got through my nonexistent brain-to-mouth filter because I was averaging a not-optimal amount of sleep as I got used to my new job

[moondustaeil]

cynosure ⌖ lee jeno

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ✧☾.·:·.cynosure

⠀ ⠀⠀ about

⋅  genre : contract killer/gangster!au : romance, fluff, angst

⋅  characters : Jeno x fem!reader and ot21

⋅ word count : 17k (yes, it’s a lot)

⋅  warning : violence, use of weapons, gambling, kidnapping, betrayal, blackmailing, timeskips, murder, blood, character death, roughly based on bap’s skydive. Don’t read if you’re not ready

⠀ ⠀  ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀⠀ synopsis

⋅  Contact-killer Jeno finds himself lurking between twenty possible perpetrators. One mission-based game with only few chances to save y/n, if it’s not too late that is. Only one gets to be the last man standing, but who will be the lucky cynosure?

suıǝ 

“Lee Jeno”

The voice of unofficial leader Taeyong made Jeno look up from the tiled floor. It was the strictness of the voice that required him to pay attention. “What?” He asked.

“I just did the casting but if you’re uninterested, don’t bother to come. You know what that means, right?” Taeyong asked, his white hair falling in front of his eyes as he tilted his head to the side. Not that Taeyong expected an answer, and not that Jeno was willing to give the answer even if it was expected from him. All twenty-one members were aware of the one unwritten rule, perhaps a little selfish to remember that one but forget the remaining ones. Everyone knew, and yet there was one person who felt like reminding everyone. “More money for the rest” words said by no other than wiseacre Doyoung.

A silent sigh threatened to escape from Jeno’s lips, but the word “money” kept him hostage despite not being interested in a new robbery. “Just give me my task please,” he said while his eyes traveled from Taeyong to the other nineteen people around him: wearing the same black outfits, carrying the same uninterested attitude, and still it was him who got called out. “Easy. You and Yangyang, clean up after the rest leaves.”

“Cleaning up your mess? Am I a trashcan or something?! All I’ve been doing in the past weeks is clean up behind your dirty ass, wiping blood from floors like I’m cleaning snot from a baby’s face” Jeno opened his book of mental complaints, letting them flow out mindlessly. It wasn’t exaggerated as in the past few weeks he had only been paired up with younger members, given the task to make proof disappear as stars disappeared from the night sky. 

“Audition for a different part next time, loverboy” Taeyong shot back upon hearing the complaint about his casting method, his words gaining strength from Donghyuck who was making soppy kissing noises in the background. When was the teasing finally going to stop? Did he prefer scolding instead? Yes, he did. At least scolding wasn't as hard to ignore as bratty behavior. "At least I'm not lonely" Jeno quietly protested despite feeling lonely in the group of twenty other young men, no one seemed to take his side and those who considered taking it were silenced. 

Laughter followed after his words. These were his friends, his enemies hidden behind a tight string that tied them together. This was neo culture technology, and he belonged to the limitless set of demons. 

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

"I'm not from NCT, I'm a part of wayV" Yangyang insisted as he pointlessly raised his finger in the air to prove his point.

Jeno couldn't help but let out an annoyed sigh at the younger boy. After nearly three-quarters of an hour, he was tired of the constant boyish behavior... Little did he know he acted like that too around older members.

"That's the same thing, just not in public. You're even lucky you got in, I bet no one else wanted an annoying orange" Jeno shot back. Pacing back and forth in the dark alley, shadows didn't even follow him as there was no light to give him the double life. "At least I didn't get stuck in a group named dream, with some other teenage kids. Speaking of, when are you going to graduate?"

Jeno swallowed thickly when he heard the question, his focus changing from the annoying boy to the content of the things he said. It was ridiculous to fear a simple graduation while he risked his life at least once a week. No one in the dream team dared to urge a word about graduating, scared it would speed up the process.

Where would he go once he graduated?

Perhaps his rank would be higher as he moved into another unit. Or this was the end of his young life in the environment, or even in the world. Time would give him an answer, though he preferred not knowing the answer to that question.

Dream was a wonderful unit as the name already stated. Wonderful enough to make it sound like they were a clubhouse rather than a gang.

"I don't know" Jeno answered truthfully, his eyes lowering towards the black earpiece in the palm of his hand. With a sigh, his fist clenched around the piece of plastic. "We should focus on the mission now. Even if we're just the blood wipers, I want to know what's going on" he said, moving the earpiece from the palm of his hand into his ear.

Yangyang was quick to follow the lead despite his natural reaction of following his own nature. The millennium kid had made his official debut to the gang in 2019, January to be exact. The training he was required to follow before that date didn't prepare him much for the real job. When he wasn't being annoying, or rather, when he was feeling insecure, he would follow the lead of older members. And apparently, this minute had hit a certain level on his insecurity meter.

Gunshot

The sound seemed to break the talk Jeno and Yangyang had between the two of them but in reality, it was the earpiece that separated their vocal connection momentarily. Nothing but footsteps and some incomprehensible words falling from voices he didn't recognize.

Gunshot

This time things seemed to get more frantic. The quiet footsteps seemed to turn into a nonexistent escape route and he could hear Taeyong yelling something to the rest of the team.

"Take the money"

Protests followed after those words, the same voice from before begging for either his life or the packs of money. But between gangs: there was no such thing as concern for justice, peace, or respect for each other. Humans were no people, they were animals hunting for the prey. 

Gunshot

That was the cue. The third gunshot existed but ended just seconds after its birth. "Go" Jeno announced to Yangyang, pushing the boy out of the alley as he followed behind.

Multitasking between looking around to check surroundings and listening to the other members leaving the site was hard, surely when he had Yangyang to watch over as if he was a toddler from barely two years old.

Time ticked by as the members did their own tasks, as many members left the site: Yangyang and Jeno entered the site, Doyoung and Kun took out their earpieces from their hideout. That's how neo culture technology worked: alone together. Each with an own task, all for one pot of money.

Between the identified color of blood and forgotten bills of green gold. Jeno found himself with one earpiece dangling on his shoulder, replaced by his phone that was currently pressed against his ear.

"I'll be with you soon" he spoke into the phone to break the silence you had offered him. It wasn't an awkward silence until you connected the soppy sounds together with him not saying much, someone else's blood was getting erased from the floor but would drip from his glove-covered fingers instead. "Just be safe, not quick," you said in a soft tone, hushing yourself just in case the walls had ears.

Jeno couldn't help but chuckle softly at your worried nature, totally ignoring Yangyang and the task that he was given. "You know me," he said into the phone, already knowing which answer you would give, and he was waiting for those exact words. Your reply followed not long after, the smile audible as you spoke, "That's why I said it."

"See you soon, y/n"

ıǝʍz

The pearly white silk protected your skin from the fitted sheet that covered the mattress. Smoothly and without friction, your sleepy body turned itself forty-five degrees.

Heaven seemed to live its secret life in your bedroom: no sounds, no such thing as too much or too little. The symbolic golden spoon-fed you and Jeno, in reality, it was made possible with money from robberies and killer contracts.

A soft sniffling sound turned heaven a little bit cold, your eyes opening from your own sounds. Your side felt uncomfortable now that you turned to it but felt the bones through layers of skin, yet, your body had no intention to make you comfortable again.

Next to you was your boyfriend, Lee Jeno, your first and hopefully last. The naturally dark roots fell over his closed eyelids, shielding him away from the miracle of a new day. His broad shoulders half-covered with the sheet, the other half showing up from where the same sheet was crumpled together.

The peaceful feeling made you blink slowly, on the verge of falling back into a light slumber. Until, in the midst of blinking, your eyes noticed the lonely dot on the sheet.

As red as love, shot through the arrow of Cupid.

Sobered up from your drowsy moment, your body untangled itself from Jeno's. Your face hovered close enough to the red dot to see that the dot no longer seemed a dot: whatever it had been before, its wetness had seeped into the sheets overnight to create something that changed the circular form if you looked close enough.

The heap of sheets suddenly felt like a rag covered in blood, and you were in the midst of it. That little dot, that tiny little dot, made you feel even tinier than the few inches it was.

"Lie down, it's cold" Jeno's voice interrupted your silent investigation. A crime scene unfolding as you still had to check whether the blood was from either of you or not, but the map with possible hints was quickly thrown overboard when your boyfriend made his appearance.

Your body was frozen in its position, your lips tightly pursed together which prevented you from giving an answer to your boyfriend. "y/n?" Jeno asked, his eyes finally opening when he realized you weren't lying down with him again. His brown eyes were greeted with your silk-covered back, your shoulders tense enough to make it noticeable. "What's wrong?" Out of worry, he sat up as well, his arm lazily slinging around your shoulder as a sign of comfort.

"Please talk," Jeno said, the hand on your shoulder pushing you into his arms but your muscles wouldn't allow that. It was then that he noticed you were staring at something, his eyes angling themselves the same way as yours in order to see what you were looking at. And that's when he saw it,

the droplet of blood on the Virgin-white sheet.

As used as Jeno was to blood and gore, he found himself staring at the little dry patch for a few seconds. Unlike your mind, his wasn't focused on finding answers to questions, he just stared with a black expression displayed on his face.

"Whose blood is this?" You asked him, your arm pushing his arm as you immediately wanted an answer. Even if it was a lie, an answer was an answer. Jeno licked his lower lip before he separated the upper and lower part to start speaking "It's mine" he uttered out, the two words coming out slow even though he finished speaking after one second.

You looked away from the blood, instead, looking at your boyfriend. A question mark seemed to be written on your face, though, it was only a symbolic sign for your confusion. "Yours?" You asked him, eyes begging for an explanation instead of your words. "Mine. When we were cleaning up the scene I cut myself on a bayonet. I forgot about it and just went to bed"

Jeno's words made you throw off the sheets as fast as possible, not that you wanted to get rid of the little droplet, but if he was telling the truth, you had to clean up the wound for him. "Fuck, Jeno" you whispered in shock as the fitted sheet was now not only white but also had a red gradient in it. The patches were still partially wet, and those that weren't had started to discolor. 

Jeno's eyes didn't follow yours this time, knowing well enough what was going on near the end of the bed. "Let me get everything to clean it up," you said quickly, not waiting for a reply as you got up from the bed and ran around the place to get the first-aid kit.

Minutes after, you found yourself and Jeno sitting on the clean side of the bed. His back pressed against the soft headboard while you sat on top of your pillow, his arm resting in your lap while you took care of the wound. While you cleaned the wound, your tough contract-killer boyfriend had winced due to the stinging of the alcohol in his open gash. He should have been used to it by now, it was something monthly as sometimes they stupidly got hurt during their robberies.

"I should have told you, but you were asleep. And it was past midnight" Jeno tried to explain to you, looking at you rather than the open wound. He wasn't the type to look at it continuously, which probably was surprising seeing his profession. "You should've" you answered to his words, not giving him more attention since you didn't want to mess up and make the cut worse. "I will next time," he told you, but mostly himself. A spoonful of lies that he swallowed down, he wouldn't wake you up in the middle of the night for a stupid cut.

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

Jeno opened his eyes again for what felt like the second time that day, in reality, it was the second time that day. Tiredness had taken over his body after the crime scene cleanup, or two of them as he could suddenly remember how you cleaned the cut this morning.

"y/n?" He asked out loud, scanning his surroundings momentarily but was quick to conclude that you weren't there with him.

As tired as his body was, he sat up and got out of bed. Replacing his lazy sweatpants by the usual black outfit, not forgetting to layer over the bandage on his arm. No one had to know he got hurt, not even Yangyang knew as he had mistaken Jeno's blood for that of the enemy.

He called out your name again as his steps quickened once he was out of the bedroom. Panic spread through his body as he became aware of his hate for you living in your own apartment instead of at his hideout with the others. No one could protect you, apparently not even him when he was around.

"calm down, Jeno" your voice called out from the kitchen, immediately he followed the sound of your voice, and more than that the scent of fresh breakfast. The frown he unknowingly had on his face was replaced with a look of relief. "I'm calm" he answered, steps slowing down until he was able to reach out to you.

His arm wrapped around your waist in an attempt to pull you closer, or an attempt to apologize for not telling you about the wound. "You didn't even say good morning" he complained in a more playful way, needing affection as he did feel a bit down after what happened and the way he was treated by the others. "It wasn't exactly a good one," you said, trying to smile despite your feelings. Was it disappointment? Or were you just worried about him?

"I know, sorry" Jeno mumbled, his head meaning towards your neck before he placed a tiny kiss upon the skin. He could imagine that waking up to heaps of blood wasn't the most pleasant thing, he didn't have to imagine it though as he had gone through it together with you.

Your standard answer laid on the tip of your tongue, it was only a matter of seconds before your lips parted and you let the words escape. "It's fine" were those words, words that you used weekly if not daily. Jeno knew that it wasn't fine, and you knew that Jeno knew. Yet, neither of you protested against those words.

"I love you, you know that right?" Jeno asked you, his lips trailing towards the side of your face. You had a hard time not smiling, but as soon as his lips were placed against the corner of your lips, those corners curved upwards. "I know" you confirmed, your head lightly tilting to enjoy the warmth of his lips against your skin. "I love you too," you said back to him, finally turning your head for a small peck upon each other's lips.

Breakfast took place on the sofa, the two of you sitting intimately close to each other while having some minor talks. Talks about your life rather than his, because he didn't want to put you at a risk by giving you too much information.

"Why don't you live with us..." Jeno started his sentence but never got to finish as you held up your hand and finished it off for him. "It's a lot safer?" You asked, using your index and middle finger as quotation marks.

He nodded as soon as you finished what he started, nervously tugging on his lower lip with his teeth. "It's a lot safer and we would see each other more," he said. You would say yes because you would see him more, but you still said no because it wouldn't he safer at all. Moving in with him would mean that you stood in the midst of chaos, safe, but one mistake and the circle pulled you in as a guest.

"I don't know, I'll think about it," you said with a tiny smile on your lips, which disappeared due to the frozen reaction of your boyfriend. "Please do," he told you, putting down the finished bowl of cereal before he leaned back.

It seemed like he didn't care after that. Though in his mind war was going on: could he manipulate you into living with him? And did he do it for your safety or just because he wanted to be close to you?

ıǝɹp

Jeno [ 9 : 19 am ] : good morning x

The small hand of the clock had moved itself upwards while Jeno waited for a response, he hadn't heard the seconds tick by but was aware of how slow they were passing.

"Why aren't you awake yet?" He asked himself out loud, unaware of the members that were in the same room as him. Though it was Renjun who decided to get up and make his way towards his friend: as quiet and savage as he was, Renjun cared deeply and was ready to fight anyone who hurt his friends.

"What's wrong?" Renjun asked, his eyes on Jeno rather than his phone to give the man his privacy. Jeno's response was silence for a few seconds, but after a short sigh he decided to speak up. "y/n isn't answering my texts. She was busy today so she can't be sleeping" he said, slamming the phone against his free hand in frustration and worry.

Renjun couldn't help but smile to himself at Jeno's contradicting words. "Did you hear what you just said?" He asked, trying not to laugh because it was cringeworthily adorable to see Jeno worrying so much about you. Jeno didn't reply as he didn't see the point, he knew well enough what he said: you were busy so you couldn't be sleeping, which meant something must have happened to you.

In his head he was already imagining how another gang broke into your home and killed you without mercy, yet, he saw your alive form in his imagination.

"y/n is busy, that means she can't reply to you because she's doing other things. You said so yourself" Renjun pointed out, snapping Jeno out of his filthy imagination. Perhaps Renjun was right but that didn't stop Jeno from worrying about you, and yes, he had reasons to worry about you.

In the meantime Chenle had also joined, his read resting on Renjun's shoulder as he was listening to the conversation. "I think Renjun is right about that. y/n is probably busy, you just said that yourself so why are you expecting her to reply?" the youngster inquired. It wasn't a real inquiry as the two other boys were just trying to make Jeno see the context of the situation and the reason why you weren't replying to a simple morning text.

In their eyes, it had been merely one hour that passed by, in Jeno's eyes it was like you hadn't messaged him all week. It couldn't be ignorance, you would never purposely ignore him, not even on your worst day. The image of someone killing you continued to live on his thoughts.

"I bet you're right" Jeno concluded, his phone dropping on the little coffee table in the middle of the living space. His lips carried a fake smile, unable to kill his thoughts despite the tries of his dream team.

Everyone could see the smile was fake. Even Hendery who was on the other side of the room could see the fabricated facial expression. But no one spoke up about it: not even Renjun and Chenle who had been trying to guide him through the thorny path just seconds ago.

The minutes continued to pass by, it seemed like time had no motive to move forward, perhaps it even wanted to move back to another moment in its big fragment album.

When Taeyong walked in, the time had seemingly decided it was time to follow the leader. "I got our next mission" he declared, holding the big white envelope between his index and middle finger like he was proudly showing it off to the twenty guys in the room.

He opened the envelope, handing everyone a little bundle of white papers. The Korean writing on it revealing who they were supposed to kill, whether they had to take money, and if they could elegantly kill the person or if it would be a bloody job.

"We're killing this man for our mission. He's forty-one years old, one of the better people for his age... At least in his job." Taeyong quickly described as his own information sheet was thrown on top of the table, he knew his victims before they were even his. "Just a bullet through his skull, as elegant as possible. Clean up the scene and that's the job" he continued his plan, it became clear this wasn't a twenty-one people job. A maximum of five people could be assigned to this, otherwise, they would become their own victims.

"Price tag is 100.000 for the hit. Divided by the dream team who will do the job. Jaemin will lead the team and cast the others" Taeyong said, giving a bod as a sign that was all they had to do. Though behind the five-person job was a broader network: people who were always waiting somewhere close in case things got a red code, others who stayed at the hideout but listened through their earpiece and updated on possible information as they kept control over the surrounding streets.

Jeno glanced at his bundle of information. His eyes on the little picture of the man he was supposed to kill, unless Jaemin cast him in the cleaning team again, but he wasn't going to let that happen this time. His eyes needed only one scan over the text to get the man's name and situation, not missing how he had a daughter of nine years old and a son who was merely five. Information about a wife or partner wasn't included but guessed the man had no time for love or his children seeing his profession.

"Jeno, can you come with me? I need to speak to you" Taeyong asked seriously, his eyes on Jeno who still seemed caught up in reading the mission. Jeno looked up slowly but his eyes quickly shifted when the youngest, Jisung, snatched the papers out of his hand and threw them on the table. "Go," he said, trying to do his best on impressing the others even if he had been a part of the team for years.

Jeno nodded his head slowly, getting up from his seat and followed Taeyong towards the empty office space. Once both were in, the door was closed and silence filled the space like furniture was supposed to do.

"Something wrong with you?" Taeyong asked, his arms crossed, and yet his posture seemed open enough to trust him. Jeno shook his head at first: not ready to tell him how he was worried about you, and not ready to tell him even more than just that. "Nope" Jeno answered, his casual speech making him lore suspicious. And Taeyong who saw the tiniest details knew Jeno was giving false information.

"I'm just worried about y/n" Jeno admitted, breaking eye contact as he knew Taeyong could look through him. "I knew this would happen, that's why we don't have girlfriends," Taeyong said, though the tone he said it in didn't match the words, it was sounding more caring than the words truly were. "She didn't reply to my text earlier. It's been over an hour, almost two hours, and she still didn't reply" Jeno continued off where he left earlier, leaving Taeyong’s words in the dark.

"And why are you so worried? Usually, you're too busy to even notice she didn't answer." Taeyong stated, his eyes narrowing as he needed Jeno to specifically tell him what was going on behind the scenes. Perhaps he knew what was going on, but preferred to hear it from Jeno's lips instead.

"because someone sent me a picture of her while she was outside."

ɹǝıʌ

"So you're not staying the night?" You asked Jeno just to be sure, but the way he was preparing his gun didn't make it seem like he would stay the night. Your eyes picked up how he shook his head in response, his lips pursed not to spill more secrets about the contract he had signed for tonight. You would be the one killing him if you heard he was going to kill someone who had two young kids and still half of his life to live. You just didn't understand his job, which was the reason talks about that were nonexistent.

You nodded in response to his little signal, your phone clutched in your hand as you tried to hide a bit of the frustration. Fighting about this wasn't common, but arguments were as for him it was just a delete button that he had to press, while you saw it as killing real humans who had something to live for.

"And I'm going out with Dream after that" Jeno said quickly as he looked up at you, hoping that part would make you smile a bit. And to his surprise, that smile appeared on your lips. "Finally some time for yourself" you commented just as he expected you to. For some reason you always liked to see him doing his own things: going out with his friends, exercising because he loved doing so, going outside without a gun hidden behind his zipped up jacket.

You stood up and let out a silent sigh as you stepped towards your boyfriend. Once he was close enough, your arms wrapped around his body from behind, engulfing his body as you wished he would be safe tonight. "Be safe" you whispered, your nose pressed against his shirt to take in his homely scent.

"Always," Jeno said, his hand brushing over yours as they connected on his stomach. He noticed your smaller fingers under his, his hands standing out more due to the veins and the silver ring around his finger. As a promise he would be safe and come back to you, he slipped the thick band from his finger onto yours. "See if as a promise for now," he said, his body turning towards yours to look into your eyes. You looked surprised, still tense but he could also see a bit of relief upon your face. "You should take my necklace as a piece of good luck," you said, your hands reaching behind your neck to unclasp the piece of jewelry. Once you removed it from yourself, you carefully put it on on him.

"I love you" he whispered as he smiled, the relief you had on your face, reflecting onto his as well. He was more worried about you than himself: even if he stood at a bigger risk to get killed in the mission. "I love you too," you said back with a smile, your hands resting behind his neck where you just clasped the necklace.

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your lips, showing you indeed how much he loved you. His arms snaking around your body to hold you close: the fear of losing you still played in the back of his mind even though this time he had managed to hide it well from you.

"I should go now, I still have to get to the hideout and get the others" Jeno whispered against your soft lips, hesitating as he was trying to pull away but the warmth kept his lips glued against yours for a few seconds.

It wasn't him who eventually pulled away as you did, leaving his lips completely after one last peck. "You really should" you whispered as your body separated from his, the lack of warmth making you wrap your arms around yourself. Jeno nodded in agreement, knowing if he didn't leave now, the mission could go horribly wrong even if it was only a few minutes late.

"you don't need to tell me to be safe, I already know," he said with a small smirk on his lips, knowing you wanted to tell him those words once again. You let out a small laugh, your boyfriend knew you a little bit too well. "Still, be safe. And have fun with the boys later" you said, a soft and calm smile on your lips as you tried not to worry too much about your boyfriend... Even if he a part of the best gangs and contract killers, that didn't mean others couldn't make him a victim.

His hand brushed over yours as he walked past you, his presence leaving out of the door as soon as his body did as well.

The fortune-teller in your minds was right, troubles were on the way, even if you hadn't believed now. You would be a believer by the end of the day.

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

Jeno held the old-fashioned glass with liquor in one hand, the ice cubes within it making a slight ringing sound as the glass was moved towards his lips again.

"Does it take that long to clean up?" Renjun asked with a deep sigh as he glanced at the entrance, waiting until the door opened and the two youngest dream members walked in. But nothing seemed to happen, even if they had been waiting for half an hour already. "Jisung might have gone home, he can't drink anyway" Jaemin answered, an oversized wine glass standing in front of him which made the red liquid cover a part of his face.

Jeno didn't answer as he kept on glancing at the bar, his eyes on the man who seemed to sit there and enjoy his drink alone. "who is he?" Jaemin asked curiously as he tried to catch a glimpse of the man's face. Even though Jeno didn't come alone, he stood up, took his glass, and looked apologetically to his friends. "I have to talk to him, we just know each other," he told Jaemin who didn't seem satisfied with the boring answer.

Jeno went over to the bar and placed his glass down, catching the eyes of the man by just his manner of doing so. "Jeno," the man said with a slight smile on his lips, welcoming Jeno to sit next to him and talk for a little while. "Didn't expect to see you here. You dropped out before we knew it" Jeno said soft, his hand resting under his head in an attempt to look more interested than curious about the ex trainee.

"I wanted to make it alone in the world. More money for myself, fewer chances of getting caught." The man said, his wise words leaving an impression on Jeno even though he wasn't planning on leaving NCT just to get more money. "How about you? Are you still part of NCT?" He asked but already guessed the answer as he remembered Jaemin and Renjun from the few times they had seen each other while training.

"I am. I think I found my place there" Jeno answered with a smile, it felt sentimental to smile while thinking about his group of friends even though they were killers and did other things that no one was supposed to do. "You seem like you belong there, NCT is getting big. You deserve to be a part of it" He answered, his hand loving to Jeno's back to give it a little supportive pat.

Jeno's eyes shifted to the entrance as the door opened again, revealing not only Jisung and Chenle but also the other sixteen members. "I should go," he said to the man as he quickly got up, not wanting to be guilty of talking to someone else who did the same as him. He stood up but instead of going to his friends, he first went to the back of the club to try and call you.

His fingers were quick to find your contact within the list as the amount people that he saw outside of his gang were limited as well. The sight of your contact name already made a smile appear on his lips, he was just in love with you.

The beeping tone made him expect that it would last no longer than a few seconds. At this time of the night, you probably weren't asleep yet, in fact, you were probably waiting for his call. It was like a routine built up for nights when he wasn't going to be around you and yet when he wanted to update you.

"y/n?" He asked as he heard his line being connected to yours, the smile on his lips already prepared for what you were about to say. Slowly the corners of his lips tired themselves out when silence was his only reply.

Jeno repeated your name once again, the phone pressed tightly against his ear like that would make him hear the silence better. "Hello? y/n?" He asked, this time louder in case you hadn't realized you were on the phone with him.

Without realizing, he swallowed away the worries that collected in his throat. His heart seemed to beat slightly faster and out of slight panic, his fingertips quickly made an end to the one-way conversation. Yet, he kept the phone in his hand just in case you would call him back right away, or just to call your number again within a short time.

His feet to him back to the bar as he saw his glass still as filled as before, though, not awaiting for him as much as an unfamiliar black envelope did. The young man he had talked with minutes ago was gone as he had never been there, or like he had been replaced by the envelope.

Jeno's hands were curious and grasped the clasp envelope from the bar and between his two fingers, scanning the paper case for a handwritten message or name. Though only the black color greeted him from every angle possible. It didn't take long before the flap was undone from its glue and opened up.

Nervously his hand stuck inside the paper wrapper, gripping onto anything that his fingers could sense. He felt tense as his hand slowly revealed itself again with all of the collected documentation.

A picture was flipped between his fingers, his eyes unprepared for the image that was burned on the retina just seconds later.

"y/n" he whispered quietly as he stared at the picture of you. Jeno's eyes went over every little detail of the picture: your eyes closed but not entirely, your hands that weren't in the picture but from the angle of your arms they weren't really placed comfortably and your knees that were pulled up towards your chest like you were freezing. Something definitely was wrong.

Wildly Jeno began to look around in the club, searching for the culprit as the envelope couldn't have flown itself to here. His eyes began to examine all of the people around: the members who seemed all occupied in their own thing, a small group of girls who were just having a drink, the people on the dance floor acting drunker than they actually were. But where was the barman? Jeno was about to suspect him until he saw the man return with a few bottles of champagne.

The other documents in the envelope were forgotten as he went to his group, more specifically, Taeyong as he would know what to do. The urge to not say anything and go straight to your apartment overpowered him: anyone was a suspect, even his best friends.

Rational thinking didn't seem to pop up into his mind, straight away leaving the place together with the evidence. Even though he came with the others, he was stupid enough to run all the way to your apartment.

His veins were filled with dynamite

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

Steganography

A message within a file, that was what Jeno was staring at. The message had been revealed on the back of your picture, or the picture of you. His eyes scanned each syllable slowly even though, together they would form words that would turn into sentences once they were put together.

Invisible ink. Just those two words didn't sit well with him, and then he wasn't even thinking about the odd fragrance that was now stuck to the picture. Did he ever use invisible ink? No, but he knew people who used it. And those people were a little too close to him.

"It's do or die."

Jeno mumbled as he read out the words, staring at the unfamiliar handwriting until something else caught his eye. In the right corner of the picture was an address written, together with a very specific time. The place he knew all too well: another dark alley between a couple of houses that were open for rent, but no one was willing to live there because it was infamous to be a dealing place or even worse than that.

The words on the back of the picture slowly turned invisible again, so slow that Jeno didn't even notice how they faded before completely disappearing. He didn't need to see them again: it was printed in his mind like the image of his first kiss with you.

He turned his wrist and checked the time, mentally checking if it was close to the time that had been asked of him. "Shit" he silently cursed when he saw that in fact, there were only a few minutes left before he was supposed to be at the given address. Without thinking twice, he bolted from your apartment and started to run the way to the alley, hoping he would get to meet the person who had you captured, but wished it was you who just tried to pull a prank on him together with one of his members.

Though his wish wasn't granted, he didn't need a genie to tell him the wish he made was impossible, he knew it as soon as he stood in the middle of the alley, being over five minutes later than planned. It didn't feel like you could be there, this probably was one of the places you wouldn't even go because you knew what went on once innocent people found themselves in the midst of the gangs.

Silent footsteps made Jeno want to turn around, getting tense at the thought of someone being behind him. His fingertips reached behind his jacket, merely touching the grip of the gun but was interrupted by someone roughly pushing him forward against the brick wall.

Jeno's breathing sped up, perhaps a bit of fear jolted through his body and made his hands tremble so much that the light grip he had on his gun turned into non-existent. Out of habit, his head slightly turned to look behind him but as a result, his head was pushed against the wall roughly.

"where is y/n!" Jeno said loudly, his voice breaking the wince he was about to let out after getting his head bumped against the wall. The sound of a gun cocking made Jeno's eyes get darker, and just like he expected, the cold object was placed against the side of his head in order to keep him still. He was focused on that and that only, wanting to hear every little sound so that he could defend himself when things got out of hand.

Once more his head got pushed against the wall, his forehead falling to the side after it came in painful contact with the stone wall. It was like the world stopped spinning for a while, but once it did, he could hear footsteps running further from him.

His hand instinctively went to his forehead, soothing the possible wound in rough rubs before he turned his body around. Relief washed over him for a mere amount of seconds, until the real realization seemed to hit him: he still didn't have you in his arms, nor did he know who actually led him here. While continuing to rub rough circles over his forehead, his body bent over the lying black envelope. Once again the envelope greeted him without name written on top of it.

His bloody hand was quick to open the new piece of evidence or a new clue towards you, shaking the envelope upside down until its contents fell to the ground. A bundle of A4 papers faced him: more specifically a file that looked similar to how Taeyong received files of those they had to delete off of the world.

The handwritten text over the file screamed out his name before the picture did, the message was clear enough without the picture, and Jeno was willing to comply.

"Kill the informant"

ɟun̤ɟ

The sound suppressor attached to the muzzle of Jeno's pistol faded out most of the noise as a bullet was shot through the informant's skull. Blood spattered against the half-open window but left some small evidence upon Jeno's black coat.

He pulled his gun back as soon as he had reached it a few seconds ago, hiding it behind the long coat that was already in possession of a half confession. His eyes went to the man once more and the heap of files that were waiting on the seat next to him, minus the file Taeyong had taken with him when he left the place a few minutes ago.

A new mission for NCT, perhaps the last one now that Jeno had pressed a delete button in front of the informant's eyes. But he didn't care about that fact: he followed the path of the person who had you and didn't care how different that path was from the path he wanted to follow. Any path where you were on, was the path he would walk on too.

He stepped away from the car and left the place delict, no time for cleaning up messes as Taeyong would have made him do, no one would find out it was him. The man had more enemies than clients, and those clients were left in a dark hole while enemies were on a lovely display. His eyes went from left to right to check the surroundings, walking out in the open street once he saw no one else was around.

His hands were kept in his pocket before it was the two little devils that made people suspect him of unclean actions. He unknowingly wiped the bit of blood in the inside of his pockets, making the little hiding place feel uncomfortably moist and his hands perhaps bloodier than they had been before he put them there.

The walk to the hideout was longer than Taeyong's car ride, of course, as Taeyong drove past the speed limit. Wasn't fast driving a privilege of being a gang member too? Probably not but there was no reason he would keep the speed to its original limit at midnight. If he had known Jeno would be behind him, he would have given the younger member a ride, but that was the secrecy in friendship. No one needed to know Jeno was behind the murder of the informant and no one needed to know that Jeno was on the hunt for you.

"Jeno is back from his girlfriend. Did you get laid again, lucky boy?" Ten teased as soon as he saw who walked inside, it wasn't hard to guess as only one member was missing from the hideout, and as usual, that member was Jeno. Jeno dug his hand deeper into his pocket in an attempt to hide the blood on his hands and sleeves, clenching his fist in anger when Ten started his endless teasing.

No one could do it like Ten, sure Haechan was the biggest brat out of them, but there was no one as manipulatively teasing as Ten. The sweet smile he carried on his lips while he was at it made people want to punch him straight into the face, but it's what the boy did best. "I didn't," he said, holding himself back from saying that he hadn't been around you since you'd been kidnapped, but he wisely shut his mouth before the tea boiled over the pot.

"Admit that you did. You're such a pussy" Ten shot back and rolled his eyes, a laugh escaping from his lips as he seemed to see a flustered look in Jeno's eyes. Protective sub-leader Kun gave Ten a shove against the shoulder in order to stop the Thai man from provoking even more "stop it" he whisper-yelled although it was loud enough for Jeno to catch the words from a distance.

Jeno looked away, missing one last smirk that Ten gave him. He was about to go to the room he had for himself in the hideout, luckily he was the one who didn't have to share a room as his roommates would have easily found out what happened behind their backs.

"Meeting time" Taeyong announced right before Jeno was about to walk away from the others. A fake hum left his lips as Jeno turned around again to face his group. "Can I change first, I've been running from y/n's place to here and I'm sweaty" he said, making up the excuse without thinking twice about the unathletically long coat that covered his body, and the fact that there was no droplet of sweat running down his defined facial features.

"An hour. You all get an hour and now stop complaining" Taeyong answered unexpectedly, making Jeno get away with the lies he told and he wasn't planning on waiting another few seconds so that Taeyong could realize the lies. He went to his room at a fast pace, his hands urging to take off the coat before he even entered his room.

The bedroom door closed behind Jeno, shielding him in his own little cocoon for a maximum of sixty minutes. His mind ran overtime while Jeno tried to empty it from all thoughts: his layers of clothes getting taken off like a book revealing all of its secrets.

The blood-covered coat got its original spot back in his closet but with rolled-up sleeves, and the gun back in his drawer where he would always keep a gun out of safety. Despite it being after midnight, the reflection of the mirror picked up how he changed into a pair of black jeans and a white shirt. So formal for no one and nothing.

He picked up his phone from the bed before sitting on the spot where his phone lied before. His fingerprint unlocked his device so that his eyes didn't have to stare at the picture of you and him for too long, he didn't want to be reminded of the fact that he wasn't able to protect you. Even though he didn't want that, he found himself scrolling through heaps of collected messages to and from you.

Text messages that had been keeping souvenirs alive from even before you disappeared: messages that had been kept into his phone for months, messages that he would read whenever he felt down but couldn't reach out to you. Each time he scrolled past a sugary sweet message, he smiled at the memory of even sweeter memories with you.

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

Jeno brought his hand up to his eyes as soon as the feeling of being awake brought him back to reality. A cold but painful material scraping over his skin as he was in the process of rubbing his eyes, which made him pull away and open his eyes faster than the light allowed him to adjust to the new situation.

He opened the palm of his hand, still a little drowsy from the abrupt awakening, making something fall from his hand and onto his lap.  A silver necklace chain leading the trail to the charm of your necklace and his ring dangling from it as well.

His fingers tightened around the silver, lifting it in the air to examine it. His eyes soon enough fell to the charm that had been yours until you gave it to him as a sign of good luck, he would have smiled at the memory if it weren't for the ring dangling next to it. The same ring he put on your finger just a little over a day ago.

As the band twisted itself around the chain, Jeno's eyes continued following each little movement it created. He could clearly remember the way he slid it onto your finger like he would when he proposed, he could even remember how he said something about a promise.

The tight grip became a clenched fist as realization seemed to spread through his body, eyes never tearing away from the necklace. Looking at it wouldn't give him an answer to the simple question in his mind, but at least he received a hint. The hint that would open a new path towards you: and he was going through every little obstacle to get to you.

His fingertips began to thread around the little chain, consuming it within his first until only the little clasp was left to see. He could feel the charm leaving its print in the palm of his hand due to how hard he was squeezing the material, the pain was nothing compared to anything he had ever felt, but everything was nothing compared to losing you.

"it's one of us," Jeno told himself quietly, knowing very well someone - the culprit - could be listening from outside the door. His footsteps were loud as he approached the door and swung it open rather roughly which made it slam against the plain wall.  The hallway didn't seem as empty as it always had been, perhaps because he knew someone had been in his room the moment he fell asleep.

A hesitant step was made, glancing right, and left to get a better view of the hall. Even though he couldn't see anyone, it was hard to convince himself that no one was here: the others could be in the main space or in their own rooms, perhaps even out of the house. But out or not: it was one of them.

With forty minutes left before the new mission meeting would start, Jeno dashed from his room to the common room, his head wildly spinning from one side to the other to get a glance of those that were in the room. After a brief glance, he had managed to count all twenty people that needed to be there but still, his eyes weren't able to detect the perpetrator.

"Something wrong?" Jaehyun asked, immediately receiving Jeno's eyes on him. Jaehyun looked as confident as usual, especially with the deck of cards in his hands like he was sure that he would win the game already. Around the same table as him sat Taeil, Mark, Hendery, and Doyoung waiting for the cards to be dealt. "You look as if you've been visited by a ghost" Hendery pointed out, laughing at his own words even though they weren't funny. "Grab a drink and join us, we're not playing for money this round" Taeil said after silencing Hendery's loud laughter by just giving him the slightest slap on his thighs.

Without responding, Jeno used his eyes to go over everyone once more before he turned away and went back in the direction of his room. Not one of them looked like they were capable of kidnapping you but at the same time they all looked like suspects in his eyes: the words Hendery said nearly made it sound as if he had been in the room, and Jaehyun's confident glance gave away a little too much pride. Members who hadn't said anything seemed a little too quiet to be innocent.

Jeno reached to his room again and sat back at the same spot where he found himself falling asleep earlier. The piece of jewelry tightly clutched in his hand as his mind was drifting towards you again, the pretty memories overshadowed by the feeling of betrayal. Twenty possibilities but who was the hidden cynosure?

⋅ ⋅ ⋅ (this involves a listing system with flashbacks so don't read if you don't want to)

Taeyong and Ten "It would be better if I was the leader," Ten said to Taeyong, a smirk on his lips as the younger boy provoked even more by sitting on top of the desk. His fingertips lingering over a couple of files that laid around, hoping to get burned before anyone would see them. "I don't think so, you'd kill one of us" Taeyong answered Ten, not caring if the words were straightforward, everyone knew it was the truth. Ten could kill either of them for the leading position, but in reality, all of them would. "At least I wouldn't withhold money as you do, Taeyong"

Taeil "I get the first shot, I'm the oldest" Taeil announced as shots were being poured into the tiny glasses, more than half of it spilling past the mini-glasses but everyone seemed to blind to notice. "So that's one of the benefits of being the oldest?" Xiaojun asked in a rather playful way, though was not prepared to receive the attention of a pair of serious eyes. "If you'd only know my benefits, you'd feel poor."

Johnny, Jaehyun, and Mark "Do you think we should mislead him?" Mark asked with a tiny devilish laugh as he looked at Doyoung in the distance. Jaehyun's half-smirk didn't disappoint, showing off his sweet dimples but the smirk was what made it mischievous "I think we should" he said to Mark but looked at Johnny. Johnny twirled the car keys around his finger while he listened, of course, he was willing to mislead Doyoung, anything so that it wasn't him who had to clean up the blood. "Get out. We're leaving."

Yuta "Do whatever you want, I don't want to be a part of this" Yuta said as he raised his hands, instead of surrender it was a sign of how he wasn't going to participate anymore. The body of a man who wasn't meant to be killed hanging over the table as his last breath had been let out minutes ago. Some furiously began to clean up the mess in order not to get caught, but Yuta only watched as everyone worried. He sat on his knees, picking up some fallen money and shoved them into his pocket behind everyone's back.

Kun and Renjun "Tell my parents that I'm dead," Renjun told Kun, his expression staying blank as he said the words. Kun shook his head almost right away, sighing in disappointment. "Why would I do that?" Kun asked, glancing around the room to see if anyone was around, no one seemed to be around but walls still had ears. "They have been calling me non-stop and they don't need to know I like killing people for a living!" Renjun exclaimed, nearly showing his phone to the older member but stopped himself as he didn't want to give too much private information. "You shouldn't like killing people, Renjun" Kun said, trying to keep his voice down as the light footsteps seemed to come closer to them. "You shouldn't either, yet you did it for fun before joining us, right?"

Doyoung, Jaemin, and Haechan How was it that Taeyong's office was opened in the early hours of the morning? Did he leave it behind like that after he drank too much and forgot about the secrets that he was supposed to keep? "Look at the money" Jaemin whispered as he pulled Haechan inside of the office without hesitation, the pink-haired boy saw no problem in going inside to take the money. "Doyoung?" Haechan asked with a smirk as he saw an older member being nosy, or more than that, taking the bills of money out of the desk drawers. "Aren't you supposed to share with us?" Haechan asked, faking more interest while he looked at Jaemin with a slight smirk. Caught in the act. "Aren't you supposed to be in bed, nosy kids?"

Winwin The gunshot made everyone in the scene look up, but Winwin didn't seem to catch their eyes, his attention was on the prey and the prey only. The young man that was barely older than him limping in any way that was free to go, but a hunter wouldn't let his prey escape, right? Another gunshot filled the silence of the room, blood splashing right before the man's body hit the dirty ground. "Winwin, stop," someone told him, but Winwin had no intention of stopping himself. He went up to his victim, kicking against his body before the third gunshot left its mark on the man's forehead.

Jungwoo and Jisung "How are we supposed to set this up, Jungwoo!" Jisung screamed worriedly as he looked at the scene in front of him. Used bullets covering the floor but no victim in sight, simply because the victim no longer was a victim after he ran from the scene. "I don't know, just make fake blood and tell Taeyong he's been killed!" Jungwoo said, his voice filled with worry but also disappointment in himself. Jisung was about to speak and tell Jungwoo it was an impossible idea, but before he could even start, Jungwoo had already laid a new idea upon the table "we'll just kill someone else"

Lucas and Yangyang "We could easily disappear now" Yangyang whisper-yelled to the other WayV member, the hideout quieter than ever before as they were the ones who stayed there to lead everything and watch over from their position at home. "And what? Let the others get killed in this mission and have no money. The one who survives will hunt us down" Lucas said back, trying to make Yangyang change his mind. Though the youngster was hard to convince when the genius ideas took up a certain amount of space in his brain. "Don't say you don't want to. You kill everyone and I take the money" Yangyang said, licking his lip as if the thought only made him horny. "How about you kill everyone and I take the money" Lucas answered.

Xiaojun and Chenle "Let's burn down these files," Chenle said as he collected all of the papers that he found, all files of people who had already been robbed from their existence in this life. Xiaojun gave Chenle a look and got up from the chair "hang on, I have something else that needs to get burned" he said as he quickly ran to his room, took the object he wanted erased and returned. A couple of minutes later the two of them stood by the fire, watching evidence burn. "So what did you throw in there? Chenle asked, curiosity taking him over. "Invisible ink, needed it once or twice" Xiaojun answered casually.

Hendery Hendery's gun was aimed at Ten, or more specifically at his head like he was about to end the man's career before it even reached its climax. "Do you wanna die?" he asked, his finger on the trigger which made Ten reach his hands up in surrender. The power that Hendery felt made him spin some degrees to end up at another possible victim "do you wanna die, hm?" he asked Mark, a maniacal laugh slipping past his lips as he was unable to hold himself back. Power was a great thing, was it not?

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

"So in front of you, you will be able to see the new mission," Taeyong said as he motioned to the papers in front of every member, laid out unlike usual which made Jeno glance from bundle to bundle just to see if his was any different from the others.

Before falling out of tone, he held up the bundle of papers just like the others. He pretended to be interested in what he was reading, but his eyes not once read the text that was typed down in black syllables. Another sense of his was working hard on its job, despite the fact that it had to be hidden.

Invisible ink. Or at least the scent of invisible ink imprinted on the last page of the little bundle, probably the last page as it drew less attention than on the first one.

Everything Taeyong said went in one ear and came out of the other one, but this time Jeno was smart enough to sometimes reply with a hum, yes or no. From what he understood: there were no people that stayed at the hideout, no one to clean up the mission as it was too serious to waste time or leave members. A lot of money was promised, but only if the mission went exactly like it had been asked of them.

"When is the mission?" He heard Winwin ask Taeyong, the blonde-haired boy already mentally preparing for the fun he would have. Though at this moment it wasn't Winwin that Jeno suspected, suspect number one carried a different name.

Xiao Dejun

Why was Xiaojun his first suspect? Because he had seen Xiaojun burning the bottle of invisible ink together with Chenle. But Chenle didn't matter in the story as he hadn't been the one saying he used the bottle of invisible ink.

Jeno glanced at Xiaojun from time to time, each time his eyes got darker as he felt his heart beating faster. Luckily Xiaojun was too busy with pretending to listen to their leader, pretending, just like he seemed to pretend to be everyone's friend while he was the devil in disguise.

"Tomorrow," Taeyong said shortly, since it was included in the file and Taeyong wasn't the type to waste his time answering stupid questions. "But leave. I don't want to see any of you in this room, I have things to take care of" he said, urging everyone out by using his strict voice.

Without holding himself back, Jeno stood up from the chair and disappeared from the eyes of the others. The file was tightly gripped between his fingers, not noticing how he was crumpling the paper out of anger. Footsteps and voices followed behind him: he could recognize Lucas speaking Chinese to Hendery but had no idea what they were telling each other.

He quickly opened the door to his room, and as fast as possible slammed it shut once he was inside. It was as if outside his room a war was going on: all suspects but no one who dared to admit their deeds, despite doing it for a living pretty much. His mind traveled further, to the point where he started to imagine all twenty members being against him and coming up with the plan to kidnap you. Though, he still had some trust in a few of them… his dream team belonging to those few.

A couple of minutes later, Jeno found himself in his bedroom, reading the message that had been written over the last page of the bundle. It was faint but Jeno could see it clearer than it actually was. The set of numbers was not just a set or a code to decipher, it was a phone number presented to him. It had the same amount of numbers as a phone number and started with the right combination to belong to the country.

Jeno dropped the papers on the bed and frantically began to look for his phone. The sheets on the bed getting messier with each rough roam his hand did around the limited space. "Fuck" he cursed silently as he remembered, and not a second after, fished his phone out of his back pocket.

The faint number had stopped showing itself but Jeno needed no reminder, his memory was still fresh despite the many thoughts ghosting through his mind. His fingertips pressed each digit carefully, almost making sure that there was no chance to make a mistake in the phone number. Lastly, his finger hit the call button before he tightly pressed the phone against his ear.

"…Jeno"

Your voice made Jeno sit up straight even though in nervousness, he stood up from the bed, ready to come and get you wherever you were at this moment. He nearly forgot that you were kidnapped and unable to randomly leave whenever you wanted, even though, it had never been confirmed someone kidnapped you.

"y/n, it's me, Jeno" he whispered into the phone, using his second hand to shield over the phone. One of his feet kept on turning from left to right as the bundle of nerves in his stomach was slowly getting bigger, it was already a good thing it couldn't explode.

He listened to your breathing while you listened to the sound of his voice and cherished it for the shortest seconds in your lifetime. "Jeno, I'm sorry" you whispered silently into the phone, it seemed like you were close to the phone one second but further away from it the next, so, Jeno could guess that you were shaking and unable to control your voice. "Don't be sorry y/n, you're going to be fine. I'm going to come and get you once I figure out where you are" he said to you, trying to calm his voice so that you would calm down as well.

"You have to do something for me. There's a mission" you said to his surprise, another mission, the sound of that only made him more nervous as there were once again chances that he would fail. No one told him what it meant if they failed, but there was that little ugly spark that told him exactly what would happen if he did. "What is it?" he asked, taking a deep breath to prepare himself.

"You have to…." you started but halted before you said anything more, the words getting stuck at the tip of your tongue. You wanted to say them but you could feel the guilt washing over yourself before you were even able to pronounce the name of the person that would be dead within days. "You have to kill Taeyong."

Jeno swallowed thickly when he heard what mission number two would involve. His ears heard it right as the voice in his mind was able to repeat the words over and over again until the name Taeyong would no longer exist in his mind. "Taeyong?" he asked you softly, keeping his voice as quiet as possible just in case someone was listening from the next room or just out the door. Perhaps Taeyong was the kidnapper and just wanted to see who Jeno would choose for at the end of the story.

You let out a soft noise as a sign he was right when he said Taeyong. Jeno knew you were selfless enough to think that they should kill you instead of Taeyong, but also knew you deserved another chance to live which was why you didn't tell him to choose Taeyong.

"Who did this y/n? You have to tell me everything you know" Jeno asked, he had no idea if his previous guesses were genuine. By now, he had already suspected everyone at least once, but he couldn't put the label on when he couldn't even guess properly who was capable of doing something like that. "D-did you hear me wrong?! I said kill Taeyong, not Taeil, not Jaehyun. Between. Between now and tomorrow" your voice stuttered over each word that passed your lips, clearly, this wasn't your original message.

Jeno was quiet for a little while, to let the words sink in, yet, he couldn't help but hear footsteps on your side of the line. The shaky breaths you let out against the phone, making it clear someone was around you, and that someone was monitoring your words. "Between?" he asked silently, praying the speaker wasn't on so that it was only you who heard him instead of one of the twenty possible options he had in his head. "Exactly," you said back to him, almost letting out a sigh of relief when your hint had been successfully delivered to him.

"Listen to me y/n. I will get you out of there, I will do anything to save you" Jeno said in a softer voice, knowing now that the message had been delivered, there wasn't much time left for you to talk to him. He wanted to continue speaking to you for hours, but he was wise enough to know how time was money, and in this case, time was a bigger chance to lose focus and get caught. "Be safe" you whispered soft, tears were streaming down your cheeks as a gun was placed against the side of your head, it cost you a lot to not scream and get killed that second.

"Always" Jeno whispered back into the phone, hearing how you were crying silently from the way you said the words. He wished he could embrace you and tell you that all was over, or better, that all had been a bad dream. Though he could pinch his skin over and over again, and open his eyes in the same dimension. His mouth opened to speak again, but the abrupt beeping tone made him close it again.

Not Taeil, not Jaehyun.

Between.

Suspect count: six

sɥɔǝs

4:59 am

A sleepless night and yet Jeno found himself being filled to the brim with adrenaline and nerves, more than energetic, he was left restless after what happened some hours ago.

Jeno would lie if he said that his mind had ever stopped producing thoughts in the past hours, the thoughts only doubled themselves until he went over every possible suspect and worked out a fitting theory for them. But outside of the possible suspects, there was also the fact he was going to shoot a bullet through the skull of the person that gave him a new chance in life. Lee Taeyong.

He forgot for a moment between his six suspects, there was also the leader he was so fond of, that exact same person that gave him his life here. If he killed Taeyong, what was going to happen to NCT? What would happen to each one of them? They were nothing without Taeyong, despite WayV leader Kun's presence.

His thoughts momentarily got killed when the office door opened and after a second was slammed shut once again. What followed after were Taeyong's footsteps going through the common room and towards the door that led outside, darkness out the hideout made his plan entirely possible right now.

Jeno was silent enough as he followed behind Taeyong, knowing the older male wouldn't have one single idea that someone was keeping up with the pace of his footsteps. The walk outside began to get darker with each step further from the hideout: darker because of what was going to happen but at the end of the tunnel, there was a light that would lead Jeno to find you again.

The thought of finding you seemed to speed up the pace of his footsteps, or perhaps it was because he saw Taeyong sneaking between a small street that had old buildings on either side. The dark figure of Taeyong was still easy for Jeno to recognize, though easy to recognize didn't make him an easy target. Together with Ten, Taeyong was one of the better people in his profession, followed up by Jisung who had the skills but had too much of a soft heart to eliminate people from the earth.

A tiny grin was hidden on Taeyong's lips, his tongue running past his lower lip as the sudden catch and shoot game revolved around him as the head character. How did he figure out Jeno was behind him? Simple. There had been twenty pairs of shoes at the door whilst no one had left the house, and then again, which loser that wanted to play a game like this left the light in the common room on at that hour of the day?

Taeyong's feet quickened once again, the straight street making it easier for him to get lost in the darkness like he was an almost invisible shadow on the cold ground. Not even two meters away was his little game buddy: nearly like they were sitting next to each other in the PC room, two different views in one single game.

Though Jeno was left one step behind as the narrow street no longer seemed to give him little hints on where Taeyong was, absorbed in the darkness which almost made it seem as if he was alone here if it weren't for the strong presence that Taeyong left behind wherever he went.

Jeno quickly moved further into the little path he knew Taeyong followed, a mix of emotions filling his heart but no space to let it out in this narrow place. His fingertips wrapped around the gun that he had been hiding in his coat pocket, and with one little finger flick, the safety barrier was now turned off. His only worry: where was Taeyong?

"What game are we playing, Jeno?"

Two pairs of footsteps came to halt right at the same moment, a crossover making it seem like two cars wanting to go over the intersection at the same time, and neither of them were playing it fair.

Jeno thickly tried to swallow away the bundle of nerves he had, his hands gripping tighter in the pocket of his coat, his index finger on the trigger as still, he was prepared to play the game until he made it to the finish.

"I don't think we're playing here," Jeno said as he slapped away Taeyong's hand that was dangerously close to his shoulder. Though his hand retrieved as soon as a sharp object came in contact with the tender skin, the cold metal only meant one thing: a knife.

Jeno slowly turned his head to the right to see Taeyong standing there, the knife in his hand paying a little bit too much attention to the exposed bit of skin on his collarbone. "That was still tolerable for a first hit, right?" Taeyong asked, the grin on his face never disappearing. Jeno had to keep in a wince: feeling the blood seep from his hand onto the ground, the contrast of the warm blood running over his cold fingers only made his head spin more.  "I don't think you know what tolerable is, how would you know? You kill people for a living" pushed past his lips, mentally hitting himself in the face to keep him from getting distraught by the thought of you or the wound on his hand.

"And you do? If I'm correct you're the one who came with a plan to kill y/n's ex and never told her about that dirty little secret. I bet guilt never tasted as sweet as when the bullet hit his non-existent heart" Taeyong pointed out, his tongue running over his teeth as he was trying to make his words more intense. Now that Taeyong said the words, Jeno felt the bittersweet lies on the tip of his tongue. The only gunshots that were memorable to him, combined with the facial expressions of your ex as soon as he knew his end was near, the way he didn't smile in the end which only brought more peace to Jeno's mind at that time. "I didn't kill him for the laughs, I did it for y/n" he protested before Taeyong could continue to dig into the past, a past where there were more truths than lies, at least that was when Taeyong did the digging. "Ah, I get it. You did it for the money so that you could buy y/n the necklace, paid by the money of her ex… You're right, that's real love"

Jeno's hand moved as he tightly gripped the gun and pulled it from his pocket. "I'm sorry Taeyong, I'm going to eliminate you," he said, his words faster than his actions as his finger managed to quiver over the trigger whilst he brought the gun up towards his leader. A loud laugh left Taeyong's lips, the heel of the knife hitting against the gun as a sign there was no way the gun was going to get unloaded by the end of the little game. "Why is that? Out of all twenty possibilities, you choose me?" he asked a little more seriously than before.

The tip of the knife pushed against Jeno's exposed collarbone, drilling into the skin before the younger male had a chance to stop his leader. "Say it" Taeyong spat out, his eyes getting wider as he saw a wound under the tip of the knife. The cold caress wasn't going to end anytime soon if Jeno kept his lips pursed like that. "I'm going this for y/n," Jeno said, his lips no longer pursed which made a wince leave his lips before he could stop himself. Why did this hurt more than getting shot by the enemy?

"True, I nearly forgot, that makes it tolerable"

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

Unknown [ 9 : 42 pm ] : failed

Jeno's eyes were greeted with the six lettered word on his iPhone display, after exactly fifteen seconds the word said goodbye and faded out on the screen. The tight grip on his phone seemed to fade along with the brightness until the little device made a soft landing on his lap.

He ran his fingertips through his black hair, all possible scenarios colliding in his mind, but there was no conclusion to take at the end of the day.

After the early encounter with Taeyong, his suspect count had gone down to five. There was no way Taeyong could be a suspect: who would ask to get killed by a younger person, especially the leader of the gang. It was like he scribbled over Taeyong's name in his mind and didn't bother looking at the scribbles once more.

Without realizing, his fingertips went up to his neck, ignoring the plaster-covered wound on his collarbone as he delicately touched the necklace around his neck.

His fingertips caressed over the little charm dangling from the silver chain, feeling the initials of your name but also his own name at the back of it. Love gifted to you with money from your ex-boyfriend, he no longer could deny Taeyong was wrong when he said those words earlier.

Next to the chain was the ring he had given you with a promise, his own ring as it didn't feel like you. It felt like his ring, that he simply gave to you together with a promise he couldn't keep. His finger slid between the silver but pulled back before it could steadily test around his finger.

Unknown [ 10 : 08 pm ] : immediately

The phone lit up again as soon as the same number sent another text to Jeno's number. This time Jeno didn't hold the phone in his hand while reading it, from his lap, he had an excellent view over the text even though he didn't want to see it.

Before the standard fifteen seconds were over, his phone's brightness decided to stay together with a new message addressed towards him. This time more than one word, more than just stupid pieces that didn't bring him closer to you.

An address.

Jeno glanced at the time on his phone and let out a sigh as he realized this was the moment he had to choose: D-day which basically was a mission where a lot of money was involved together with the entire team, or saving you from the hands of one of those teammates. How was he even meeting up with one of them when not even in an hour, they had to be at a completely different location for the endgame.

He stood up from the bed and immediately started to collect a heap of objects he could possibly use in this momentum. A gun without silencer as he was done with little games, his phone just in case he would receive more hints than just the address, and of course his usual coat that would somehow have to replace a bulletproof vest.

Cynosure

His footsteps were loud as he ran from his room into the common room, barely put on his combat boots, and with a loud slam left the hideout.

He didn't even notice how his team members had been staring at him as if he was a fool, but no one was willing to help a fool. Though rather than not willing, it was the case of not being able to as Jeno hadn't shared the context with anyone.

The person who knew the most was walking amongst them, and surely that person wasn't lenient enough to help him.

"Where is he going?" Jungwoo asked as he sipped from his late-night coffee, knowing there was not one chance to yawn during the upcoming hours. The sweet taste of sugar in coffee made him blind to the bitter situation his younger member found himself in. A dart was thrown between Jungwoo and Doyoung who was about to reply, hitting the board with a light thud. "Going to y/n, get some dick before we get our victory," Haechan said as a giggle pushed past his lips, eyes never breaking contact with the dart that found itself pinned right in the middle of the board.

"he knows the rule: if he doesn't participate. More money for the rest"

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

The soles of Jeno's shoes seemed to get worn out a lot faster than usual, these days he seemed to live in the black pair of combat boots. But today they felt exceptionally worn out compared to yesterday.

The combat boots helped him to run through narrow streets. Streets he had never seen even though he found his way through them with ease. Both left and right seemed to end up in the same streets if it weren't for the little name tags and numbers upon the brick walls of the building.

His footsteps faded out as he tried to pause his running. His breathing deep even though he wasn't out of breath or tired from running. His eyelids covered his brown eyes as he tried to recall the address in his mind, even though he was sure he knew, he wasn't confident in trusting himself.

Silently and without a word, he repeated the address inwardly. Once. Twice. And when he lost count because he was so focused, he knew he could continue with his mission.

He picked up his pace again, needing only a couple of seconds before he was at his maximum speed once again. His eyes wildly drifting to everything suspicious around him: every little letter on white tags and every number next to a door. Wasting time was something he didn't do when the first few letters didn't match with the address in his head, he no longer would spend time on it.

It was like he was running through a maze where every little path ended up somewhere in the middle of nowhere. His feet were finally starting to get tired and painful from the neverending fight against time and a stranger that actually was his teammate.

Jeno ran past another little path, scanning the surroundings rather than the tag that was right in front of his eyes. As soon as he wanted to look in front of him again to continue, his eyes met the name from up close. Two steps passed the little street, his feet came to an abrupt halt.

This was it.

The tip of his shoe was dragged against the ground whilst taking a step back towards the little street to his left. The big two steps from seconds ago, became small and slow steps to make himself more camouflaged in the darkness.

He turned his body to the street before he was able to take his first step towards the new path. The repetitive setting staring at him as he felt like the main character, especially when his eyes didn't meet with any of the suspects.

"I'm here, what do you want from me!?" Jeno shouted loudly as his first step forward happened right in the middle of his sentence. His eyes didn't see anyone around, yet, he had yelled out to anyone willing to hear him.

This time it wasn't him getting stared at, his eyes moving clockwise around his surroundings. The houses that seemed to be evenly abandoned like the others, the shards of glass lying on the ground between the cobblestones, the bags of trash collected against one home which made the smell less than pleasant.

Why was he alone?

After hesitating due to his thoughts for half a minute, he started the path further into the street. The stench of the bags of filth filling his nostrils more and more with each step that he took.

It was like the odor took over more than half of the thoughts in his mind. The thoughts he had disappearing rather than being replaced by other thoughts.

Your fragrance.

Jeno swallowed away the fictitious thoughts until the odor solemnly remained.

His nose attempted to identify the strange mix of scents unknowingly. His footsteps following the progress by taking tiny steps towards the place where the scent was only getting stronger.

A molecule of your fragrance contested with the unfamiliar but unpleasant odor as he got closer to the bags of trash. The stench seemed to lose its battle as Jeno limited himself to the molecule of you around him.

Other senses helped him to find more particles of you: his hands spread in order to feel something in case you were close, his ears ready to focus on the sound of your voice, his eyes moving from spot to spot.

You were the cynosure.

His vision stopped at a low point that seemed to catch his eye due to the little details that didn't match with similar positions. Between the different colored trash bags, he could see a white piece of fabric sticking out slightly.

Kneeling down, Jeno started to investigate the piece of fabric from up close. Luckily the ground managed to keep him steady upon seeing the little droplet splattered on the white fabric.

The droplet of blood on the Virgin-white piece of clothing.

As used as Jeno was to blood and gore, he found himself staring at the wet patch for a couple of seconds. Fragments of time seemed to travel through his mind, taking him to one specific moment.

The time the two of you woke up together, his blood resting between both of you after he got wounded during one of his tasks.

This time, the blood wasn't his.

His fingertips no longer delicately wanted to touch the piece of evidence. Instead, his hands started to roughly move the trash bags out of the way.

His fingers were hurting from the dirt they pushed aside but it didn't stop him from moving the last few to the middle of the street. For some reason, his eyes hadn't seen the slow reveal that happened with the removal of each bag, perhaps because he feared what hid underneath them.

On the other hand, his eyes had no choice but to watch the result unveiled. A lump of air got trapped in his throat when the sight wasn't what he predicted.

Around him, the world continued to spin and he felt dizzy living in that frame of time. Together with the rest of his body, his skin felt numb to the salty tear that fell from his eyes and onto his cheek.

"y/n" Jeno whispered as his hands roughly grabbed your white-clothed shoulders, shaking them which only gave him a fabricated response.

Seconds silently ticked by as Jeno waited, or hoped for a short response to push itself past your lips. His hands remained upon your shoulders as he waited, the grip tightening with each second that ticked by. "y/n c'mon" he nearly begged, the last bit of hope soon making space for grief.

A loud wail left Jeno's lips as you had no response to give. Your lips parted but not one word escaped from them, yet, Jeno continued to stare at them as if you would move them to speak any second.

"I'm so sorry" Jeno whispered through the sobs that left his lips, making the words incomprehensible as they had to make space for his emotions. His hands were no longer tightly attached to your lifeless body, instead, he found his fingertips trembling inches away from your face. Too scared to caress the face he had kissed hundreds of times.

His head hung low, allowing the tears to fall onto the dry ground. A cough left his lips once he managed to catch a glimpse of the large red spot that coated the upper half of your heavenly-white outfit, under the lace he could see how the elegant prints had been colored in by your blood. Despite dry heaving, he held the coughs quiet, giving his cries the full freedom.

Your fingertips that seemingly were holding onto something non-existent were resting in the middle of your lap, placed like an old doll. Jeno took your hand in his, ignoring the liquid that was no dripping between the connection you two had. He brought your hand up to his face, making it rest against his warm cheek as he continued to free his emotions from their cage.

"y/n" Jeno whispered quietly, your fingertip brushing against his upper lip as he quietly moved your fingertips to place them where he would want to feel your love. The way your thumb would move over his upper lip and slowly run over his cupid's bow in the process. His lip pouted merely, pressing a little piece of affection upon your cold skin. "Sorry for not being able to keep the promise" he whispered to you, swallowing as he felt the silver chain of the necklace nearly burning through the pockets of his pants.

He pulled out the little piece of jewelry, staring at it with hatred in his eyes. How could a stupid piece of jewelry ruin his beautiful moment with you? His view changed as he remembered the ring was his promise to you, held in his hand as it gave him a chance to make a new and lasting promise.

"always" Jeno whispered, remembering quite a few times where he had used the word to indicate that he would be safe, and each of those times always took the second meaning that he would come back to you. He detached the ring from the necklace, holding it between his thumb and index finger. Delicately, he slid the ring back onto your finger, sealing the promise with the gesture.

Tears fell from his eyes, cleaning away bits of your blood away from his cheek. Blood could be washed away, but pain couldn't. Around the heart filled with love, a layer of pain had coated itself.

Always.

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

Unknown [ 10 : 58 pm ]  : game over?

Jeno furiously wiped under his swollen eyes as the brightness made him incompetent to read the message that had been sent to him. Though rather than retrieving his eyesight, he got rid of dried-up tears upon his skin.

His eyes read over the two simple words that formed an unneeded question together. In his eyes, it was obvious that the little game had been played, and he was chosen as a first place in being a loser. His game had cost him more than his life was worth, and no matter what price he paid, there was no second chance in which he could prove he deserved to win.

That's when real life and memories started to collide again in his head, not like they did before by ruining him even more, but by realistically telling him there was a mission to finish. D-day was what they called it, and now he realized why it was named that beforehand.

His exhausted pair of feet continued a further unknown trail once more. Silently, he called himself crazy for doing this after what happened, but it felt like a dedication to you... Even though the knife of hope, had already gone through his heart to tell him off.

A couple of minutes after his watch had announced eleven hours passed noon and one hour before midnight, he found himself in the unknown place. The oversized garage door merely opened, but he still managed to crawl underneath it until it left a little tear in his jeans.

It was still around him, no voices that would usually shout at one another for the next stage to finally start. Jeno looked around, trying to be noiseless as he walked further into the seemingly empty storehouse. It was Yuta's long hair that managed to catch his eyes first, but once he looked past that, he noticed the circle his members were positioned in.

Jeno took an unexpected step towards his members, causing someone to uncover himself from behind the large columns. The stranger wearing a combat helmet together with a completely matched black outfit underneath, yet, the black lettering on the uniform gave away that they were faced with authorities.

Within seconds, a dart was tossed towards the police. Jeno was quick to move due to his reflexes but noticed the person that was meant to get hit, wasn't so lucky. The first gesture set the rest into action as more police members revealed themselves from hidden positions, making eyes of the NCT gang widen at the unannounced reveal of the authority.

Gunshot

Jeno's eyes were quick to follow even if he wasn't able to see the bullet until it had been planted in the enemy's shoulder, yet, he turned back to Chenle and smirked at him as praise. His own gun safely stored the pockets of his outer layer of clothing, his hand already on the trigger for the moment he had to pull it out.

Bullets seemed to fly around everyone, lacing them in a spiderweb that they could hardly escape as every bullet was aimed towards one of them. Though, bullets didn't plant themselves in his skin when he moved around just like everyone else did.

"Taeil!" Jungwoo's voice echoed through the hall as his soft voice was suddenly louder than ever before. The tall boy dragged his older friend towards the nearest wall but was instantly killed by a bullet going through his vital organs. His body falling right over Taeil's as the two first victims were eliminated by the enemy.

Jeno barely heard what was happening over the noises around him, he had heard Jungwoo's cry for Taeil but his eyes hadn't picked up how his clan now existed of fewer people than before. He pulled Jaemin aside roughly, shooting at an officer who immediately landed on the ground seconds after the shot was fired.

Right in the middle of the place, between large columns and higher placed people, Jisung found himself crouching over his best friend Chenle. Tears pooling in his eyes, but before they fell, it was his body that hit the ground.

"Shit, Jisung is down." Jeno heard in the background as he looked towards Renjun who was torn between his two youngest friends or continuing to fight for whatever was left. He was about to move to the center to get to the two boys, but it was Lucas who took over the job. Unfortunately for the team, temporary informant Renjun had lost the battle when his eyes had lost focus of what the mission really was.

Jeno rested his back against the column, his eyes taking a little too long to figure out who was going to be his next target. The role of one of his possible targets had been swapped around, as one second later, a gun was aimed at him. His hands reached up in the air, shakily trying to keep himself steady against the column. "Sorry" he mumbled but his voice easily disappeared between the bullets and shouts of other members. His fingers already went up to his shirt before the bullet was planted on the left side of his body, immediately coating his black clothes with a layer of blood.

A cough left his lips, immediately triggering his gag reflex as a spoonful of blood dangled down his parted lips. He slumped down against the column despite his fingertips trying to scratch the material in order to keep him standing. His head was pounding, between all of the sounds around him, he faintly managed to hear you telling him to be safe.

Always.

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

Monochrome

One shade of black, one tint of white, ten different palettes filled with grey. That was what Jeno's eyes detected when they opened for what seemed like the first time in months. He could only state in front of him, the surroundings not revealing themselves as their dull colors refused to show him what was going on.

An unexpected grunt slipped past his lips when he tried to set his body straight against the cold support in his back. That's when the pain had announced itself and he finally became more aware of the things around him. His hands were coated in blood, as red as love was supposed to represent.

Red was the first real color his eyes saw at that moment, turning the pallette of grey into a never-ending set of colors samples when he looked up from his hand and to the open space around him. His lips held a silent sound of surprise back when the colorized truth came to life.

Exactly nineteen of his teammates on the floor, recognizable by their hair colors, facial features, or body types. A few other bodies scattered around, people who didn't know but were hidden behind protective helmets in order to keep their identity safe. He could see Taeyong lying on the floor, facing him and his eyes were still opened like he was staring into the soul of his younger member.

Jeno licked over his lower lip, unexpectedly drawing in the taste of blood with his actions. His mouth already had an odd taste but knowing the red liquid was covering his tastebuds made him spit it out. The remains ending up right at the corner of his lips, not further than where it had been seconds ago.

"Thought your heart would have been crushed by now," A voice said which made Jeno look up, his eyes weakly scanning the person in front of him even if he could recognize the voice without seeing him. He swallowed thickly, struggling as the metallic taste of blood was pulled further into his body. His lips slowly parted again, some dried blood hidden within the cracks of his lips. Words were mouthed, not spoken as not one sound broke through the momentum.

Instead of speaking, Jeno weakly presented his gun, holding it up a few centimeters as he was too weak to hold it higher. The meaning behind the gesture was unclear, even for himself: did he give himself over to the game, did he want to live in peace and willingly lost because of it?

The older man kneeled in front of him slowly when he saw the gesture Jeno made, seeing it as an offer even though it was a perfect opportunity. Because as the unspoken rule said, who participated got more than the others: and he was the only participant left.

Beneath the black unbuttoned shirt, Jeno could see the bulletproof vest upon his skin. A simple trick that twenty other people had forgotten about despite it being something classic in the world that they lived in.

"any last words?" He asked Jeno, turning the gun around in his hand so that it was aiming at Jeno. Whilst he waited for Jeno to answer the question, his hand helped the gun to find the right angle. Jeno didn't even notice how his hand was lifted up and wrapped around the gun, his index finger resting upon the trigger.

Be safe

"Always" Jeno silently said as his tired eyes stared at the man who once was his friend. Jeno felt a finger over resting over his, immediately feeling the tension if the trigger getting more intense. But gave himself over to the feeling before it even came.

Images of you flashed through Jeno's mind as he tried to find relief in his future, a future he didn't have unless it was with you somewhere in a dream in a dream. Unknowingly his eyes went over the number and name engraved on the gun, yet, in his mind, he read the numbers of your anniversary and your name right next to it.

Gunshot

The cynosure of no eyes was left standing alone between dead bodies, the gun dropping on the ground as he stood up and gracefully walked away from the game he finished playing. Gameover.

960201, Kim Doyoung

Author’s note: 

Helloah, you have reached the end of cynosure! I hope you liked the fic despite the perhaps sad ending (I didn’t cry). I decided to write this in celebration of 5K followers: thank you for 5k, it seriously means a lot to me to know that people like my writing and look forward to reading it!

Anyway. I hope you liked cynosure and if you have any feedback/questions about the fic, I’ll gladly respond  <3

[soulwillower]

buttercup • richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader)

requested: Would you mind writing a Richie Tozier X reader soulmate AU where Richie is VERY self conscious and he finds out that the reader is his soulmate and the reader is well known and very pretty, so he’s just like djjdjfgjjcbvnfnf but once they actually meet she really likes him? :0 thanks if you consider!

warning: swearing, angst, richie being edgy and also a bit unstable (king shit), neuroatypical richie!!!, fluff, soulmate au!! <33 also sorry this may be rough, i havent edited it at all

[reader + losers are in college]

lmk what u guys think of this one,... idk LOL

4.1k words

♡

richie was about to be sick. yes, he really, really was going to vomit in approximately ten seconds and he didn’t know what he was going to do. the room, full of barely-adults chugging jungle juice was sweaty and bustling and the walls were closing in on him quick. those people who weren't in the main rooms were doing sniff in the bathrooms and blocking his pathway to heaven (the toilet) so he quickly stumbles towards the sliding-glass door.

he passes a guy who claps his shoulder and says in a deep voice, "you good, bro?"

no, no. he's not good, bro. thanks for asking, though.

as he finally breaks free of the plastic, out of the crusty balloon that was holding his body hostage, he takes a deep breath and sprawls himself on the back deck, staring up at the clouds in the nighttime sky. maybe he should go home and mull this over, before he crams it down his own throat and chokes to death, alone and broken on the back deck of a 22 year old business major's rental house.

he laughs to himself - an image which he's sure would be a full on maniacal scene to an onlooker - as he lights a cigarette with very shaky fingers. even if he chooses to give this situation some thought, he will end up being forced regardless because this is, quite literally, richard tozier's destiny.

y/n y/l/n is richie's destiny, and it makes him feel like complete shit.

you see - his whole life, richie knew about the fucking soulmate tattoos. of course he did, everybody did - it was, like, one of the first things you learn, ever. he knows that there's basically a soulmate for every person and often times the soulmate marks were different, the ways of finding your soulmate were wide and far.

for most of richie's life - actually, almost all of it up until the last month - he'd had a big, fat 0 tattooed on his arm and below it a humiliating phrase that was quite the epitome of richie himself.

yet it never changed, which led him, his friends, and his parents to determine that he'd gotten a time-counter soulmate mark, which he likes to pride himself on believing he did not give a single fuck about.

the number is supposed to count the amount of time that you've spent with your soulmate, and there's usually a sentence or phrase that's associated with your soulmate's first thoughts of you below it. and yeah, of course the first thing the lucky guy or gal thought of richie is 'wow, those are the ugliest socks ever.' pretty fucking on-brand, if richie says so himself.

so yeah, he never really paid attention to his soulmate mark - partly because the thought of emotionally opening up to someone enough for them to know his whole and true self was repulsive and terrifying enough to make him physically ill, enough for him to develop a crazy sense of humor as a less-than proficient coping mechanism for the insecurity and fear that lives in his mind rent-free, 24/7 365. but mostly he didn't pay attention to the mark because, you know, he thought it was lame.

that is, until it changed from the 0.

it happened on the first day of classes fall semester of this, his freshman year of college.

which, honestly, was a huge fucking bummer, because he literally came into contact with almost 800 new people that first day through classes, dorms, walking around campus, and the dining hall. and yet, as he got back to his dorm and smoked a bowl with bill, he'd noticed that his arm had said 00:51:26.

bill had been so excited he'd almost lifted richie through the roof, because 'holy sh-shit, rich, y-you did it!'

it was hard to believe someone was out there for him, though. and yeah, he didn't give a fuck about it, but he also kind of did.

richie, now thinking back on that day, groans a bit. if he'd just known, if he had just fucking looked at the thigh of the girl in front of him with the soft-looking grin and the alluring scent of orange creamsicle shampoo, who'd smiled a bit when he borrowed a pen - if he'd just known then that y/n was meant to spend the rest of her life with him, he could've... well, he's not really sure what he could have done.

he thinks to that moment in time, as he was blowing smoke out the dorm window with bill and giggling as he ate an entire bag of cheez-its, and how much he wanted to know who it was back then.

but tonight, it had become a nightmare when the information practically fell into his lap. he's at this house party in late september, and about five minutes ago it was just boring enough to warrant sitting on the rug in the living room and just fun enough to actually stay.

“-yeah, she said the first time you guys met was in microeconomics, right?” ben says, and richie huffs in agreement as he picks at the skin on his nails. ben was talking about her again, and richie's heart was beating stupidly hard. y/n, one of his closest friends that he'd made outside of the losers, never failed to make his heart run a goddamn marathon.

“-she told me the first thing she noticed was that you were wearing socks with sandals. and she thought that your socks were really ugly.” he finishes with a laugh and richie’s head snaps up at that. he feels chills spill over back as if he’d been doused with ice water and he gapes at ben. “wait, what?” richie shudders, the words escaping his lips quietly enough that his friends mistake it for a forceful exhale brought on by offense at the word 'ugly.'

“well she was right to think that.” stan says from behind his solo cup, carefree, as if richie’s life wasn’t crashing to an alarming and unbelievable halt. eddie giggles faintly somewhere from the floor where the losers are sitting, but richie’s mind is reeling too much for him to react to or even comprehend anything.

“rich, i th-thought i got you to st-stop wearing socks and sandals so long ago.” bill adds, laughing into his hand. but richie’s barely registering any other fucking information because he’s staring at ben, who is finally noticing his friend’s perplexed face. “you good, rich?” ben asks carefully.

“wh-er, wait. what exactly did she say?” richie asks, really not wanting to know the answer and yet wanting to know more than life itself. it can't be her. he’s getting odd looks from everyone now, but he's starting to breathe quickly and he thinks he might vomit. he kind of regrets never showing anybody but big bill his soulmate mark, because he's suffocating right now in embarrassment and bill is a little too drunk to assume what richie's assuming right now.

“wait, y/n y/l/n, right? from my dorm. she’s here tonight, she told me- oh, y/n!” stan calls, looking directly over richie’s shoulder. it happens so fast. y/n, in the flesh, walks past at just that moment, breaking out into a breath-taking, world-halting smile. richie's chest hurts worse than it ever has before as she waves and bustles over to plop herself next to richie. and holy shit, she's wearing shorts because even though it's cold out, the house is warm and richie can see dark ink on her thigh. a soulmate tattoo. he can't draw his eyes away even though his brain is screaming to knock it off because there's going to be something there he doesn't want to accept, but he then does it anyways.

he almost hyperventilates as he reads the words emblazoned on her thigh,

27:36:08 and right below it: "holy hell her hair smells like orange creamsicle"

he almost sobs right then and there as she greets him with a soft hand on his shoulder, completely unaware of their fate and richie has to stand up abruptly because he can literally feel the numbers changing on his arm as the seconds go by with y/n at his side.

and now, mere minutes later he's out here, laying in self pity as anxiety claws at every inch of his body and fear tingles on him like the slight presence of snowflakes falling on his skin - briefly he wonders if, as an older man, he'll wonder how he never got cold wearing nothing, vulnerable as he welcomes in that falling snow.

he would be totally daft not to wonder how he ended up with a soulmate like her, someone not only so fucking attractive but so kind and undeserving of a monstrosity of a human like him. she is, in every place he isn't, a complete and utter success of a person; he's a hurricane where she's whitecaps in the sea, he's loud and abrupt while she is kind and outgoing. maybe they do work well together, hell - they spend enough time on study dates outside of class for him to know that he does really like her. but richie also knows his standoffish, happy-go-lucky and untamed personality paired with his unwillingness to make himself appear vulnerable to most people will probably have a very large impact on... whatever it is that happens with y/n.

because that's really the point, isn't it?

she is stuck with him. bucky beaver, the trashmouth, mr. i-can't-keep-my-trap-shut-for-three-seconds. y/n, the most incredible person in this world, is the kind of person that was designed for richie to admire from afar, as he is so willing to suffer through. because as much as it hurts to watch her and to love her without loving her, it is a thousand times safer for both of them than the inevitable look of disappointment that will befall y/n’s angelic features when she discovers who her burden of a soulmate is.

the thought makes richie choke out a weak sob, sitting up and digging the heel of his palms into his sockets, trying to scrub out the image of himself from his brain. awful, awful, bad.

he takes a long drag from his cigarette and for a brief moment he wonders if, just maybe, she’ll love him back eventually. the thought makes him feel like crying all over again.

huge nose, big teeth, awkwardly skinny and too tall. maybe he's got nice hair, but he sometimes wakes up too late and can only brush his teeth and swipe on deodorant before he's sprinting out his dorm with his pickle socks and stan's old sandals, trudging to class and getting in the way of y/n's future.

but he is her future, after all - how can that be right?

he doesn't have enough time to take another drag from his cig as he hears the glass door open, the noise from the party bursting through the gap in the foundation of the house and sending him back to five minutes, ago, inside. he cranes his neck and can't bring himself to be surprised when he sees her, backlit from the party inside and figure in his mind standing like the only being in the world.

she thinks he looks devastatingly beautiful tonight. she loves the awkwardness in his bones, the way he carries himself with confidence although she's not sure he always really has it. he's wearing some dumb socks again as usual, though they're mostly covered by his black pants and red high-tops this time. it makes her smile softly.

she wants to know him, really know him, as more than just a classmate, a crush, a boy who's friends with stan uris from the floor above her own room. she wants to feel his large hands on her in more than just fleeting greetings, knucks to the shoulder or jaw. she wants the sharp taste of nicotine and mint from those life savers he was always sucking on in her own mouth as he holds her tightly against him, she wants to know everything about him and be with him, even if they aren't somehow destined to be forever. which, she thinks with an array of wild animals tumbling around her chest, they might be.

after all, someone at this party is her soulmate, and she's almost 99.8% sure it's richie. it gives her the most beautiful butterflies she's ever had, even when he stares at her from the deck with glassy eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

"what’s up, buttercup?” is all she says, in her mind because he's stunned her to near-silence once again by just existing, and in his mind because she is the most perfect being.

he doesn't respond despite being completely charmed by her, because he's breathing in the nicotine and its making his fingers twitch and even though he's sober by now, he thinks he may be tweaking a bit, mostly from the overwhelming set of information that just smacked into his face when y/n walked over into that room.

he watches as suddenly she's dropping herself so she's sat next to him, her legs swinging off the edge of the deck. she eyes his cigarette. "that's so unhealthy, rich." she says softly, teasing but with a lacing of truth behind it that really makes richie itch to never smoke ever again in his life. but he's a stubborn ass, so he instead takes a deeper drag, maintaining eye contact. he can feel one tear slip from his eye and he feels so fucking melodramatic as he does so, but he's at the lowest he's been in a while, so he gives himself a bit of credit.

she reaches out and pulls the cigarette directly from between his lips, sending him a pointed look as she presses it out on the finished wood of the deck. he wipes the tear away when she's not looking. and as she turns back he smirks, unsure what else to do, as he blows the smoke out of his mouth towards her face.

"hi, toots." he says in what he hopes is a normal tone, despite his blotchy and tear-trailed face. she blinks her eyes owlishly at him but just shrugs, "you left a little prematurely back there. what, do i smell that bad?" she jokes. no, he thinks, you smell like orange creamsicles.

it's bittersweet, the irony in her statement. because he knows that she probably knows what she smells like every day, as it's literally tattooed right on the meat of her leg, on display for her and whoever else lucky enough to find themselves being acquainted with the skin of her upper thigh. the thought leaves a sour taste in his mouth.

maybe if he were feeling a little less in-the-dumps, a little less like a complete and utter disappointment and failure that ruined this sweet girl's life, he would have ribbed her back a bit. you know, grind her gears in typical tozier fashion.

but he's exhausted and so distraught that he can't bring himself to even look at her. "i'm not in the mood" he grumbles, his heart pounding. she frowns, tilting her head.

"okay, what's wrong, richie?" she asks, and it's in that caring voice that she uses that isn't pitying but simply solicitous in nature. her calming force on him is obvious and immediate and his teeth stop rattling around in his head

he wants to scream because she's burning warm and perfect while he's frigid cold inside his body; a wasteland full of broken slinkies and half-formulated 'your mom' jokes that are melded to the crust of him with the tar that's been sucked straight from those damn ciggies. for crying out loud, if he were to so much as touch her, she'd get corrupted.

she notices as he scoots a bit away from her, and her heart hurts. he's so upset, clearly, and yet it hurts her that he can't trust himself or her enough to open up; no fault of his own surely, but heartbreaking all the same. "i care about you, and i really want to be here for you." she says it like there's going to be more, but the words kind of die in her throat as she realizes the extend of her words.

holy shit, she thinks, i'd go to the ends of the earth for him. if richie asked me to, i think i'd probably kill the queen.

"i stubbed my toe, and it really hurts." he says then, and the absurdity of his excuse makes her laugh out loud, head tilting back towards the moon as the bubbly giggles tumble from her lips. she looks at him after and his face is a twisted mix of affection and utter pain, a combination that hurts her to her core but lights a fuel in her that makes her want to help him.

"it's true." he mutters, motioning to his shoe limply, and she looks at his foot, the tip of his converse scribbled in sharpie with the word 'half-brain' and then a bunch of hearts.

"i like your socks." she says absentmindedly, grinning at him as she says it, voice teasing. but the reaction she was hoping for was nowhere to be seen as richie suddenly heaves a hiccup-sob, one so upsetting and quiet that she thinks she misheard it.

but he's keeling over and clutching his face with his hands, shaking his head, and her heart breaks. "richie, honey please tell me what's going on. or i can just sit here, if you'd rather-"

her sentence is cut off with richies own rushed words, expelled from his mouth so quickly that it's almost as if they were trying to escape while his lips tried to hold them in.

"-you're going to have to spend the rest of your life trying to force yourself to love me, and that terrifies me.”

as he says it, his stomach twists itself inwards at his admission and he thinks he's going to be sick. he doesn't deserve you, you're going to resent him for it. she's silent for a few moments, and he doesn't dare look anywhere near her as tears trail down his solemn cheekbones and drop onto the black corduroy that wraps around his jittering legs.

"richie, please, what are you trying to say?" she says quietly, sounding scared, nervous, upset... richie did that. it's his fault. he tilts his head back, his brain buzzing in guilt. "fuck," he says, and it comes out broken, "you... i- you're my soulmate." he says, looking down to where his chest rises and falls almost unnaturally, a consequence of muscle memory being tampered with by the lethally college combination of nicotine, alcohol and marijuana on an empty stomach.

earlier he was afraid that if he opened his mouth too wide he would lose control of his tongue and then the words would come out without him wanting them to, but he knows he's basically sober by now, as sober as y/n is next to him - he's just neurotic, but he doesn't want her to know that, because oh god, what if she hated him for it?

she wouldn't, right? isn't she supposed to find a way to love him?

this was a really stupid idea, but in his mind it was one that had to be done. shutting his eyes, he tugs the sleeve of his left arm upwards, taking a shaky breath. again, it's silent as she reads the words written there. wow, those are the ugliest socks ever.

she stares at the words, and the number above it, then she looks at her own thigh, where the exact same number counts on in time with his.

he wastes no time, though: "-don't worry, doll. i've got it figured out, we can just- maybe we can get yours covered and you don't have to think about it anymore. fi-find someone better, like, oh, bill - he'd treat you nice i think. just- we don't have to think about it, i'm sorry." he says in one breath, not looking at her at all.

"richie, how can i be yours if you're not mine?" she says thickly because she's fighting off tears wondering how someone so incredible and full of life could feel so undeserving.

"you can't want me, you can't." he insists, not looking at her as she gapes at him because if he were to look at her expression he may lose it. it's quiet again in their own little world here, the air silent and numbing as y/n takes a breath.

"oh my god, wait richie how are we this stupid?" she asks, perking up and lightly slapping his arm. he looks at her in shock as she begins to laugh, "we've been alone together so many times. how did we not notice?" she asks, and he chuckles a bit, shrugging.

"maybe we're not the sharpest crayons in the drawer, toots. all i'm sayin' is that i figured it out first." he says cheekily, and secretly both of them are shocked to see how quickly they fell together, as if the knowledge that they were made for each other made all their insecurities fall away.

her face softens again. "you know, i saw my timer counting tonight and i was hoping more than anything that you'd be here. that we'd be-" she adds softly, a hand landing lightly on richie's thigh, sending licks of flames up his body. she takes a breath and restarts. "do you know how fucking bad i wanted it to be you?"

and just like that, y/n unintentionally provides a luscious mix of words and tricks that fill him with barely enough confidence to let him bet when he knows he should fold.

what's life without a little risk?

he meets her eyes for the first time in a few minutes and hers are large and hopeful as they wait patiently for him to give her something. but he still can't speak without running his mouth, so instead he cups her cheeks. her lips part slowly and he stares in awe at her raw beauty, unable to hold it in longer.

he presses his lips to her quickly and to her it feels like he is trying to prove something. it makes her heart soar as he comes alive against her, pressing as enthusiastically as she is into him. he tastes, as she'd guessed, like nicotine but mostly like a mint and it makes her grin as he pulls back.

"is this okay?" he's asking then, his thumb soothing over her cheek sweetly and giving her the same butterflies she gets when he smiles; the very same butterflies that release when he says anything to her, when he comes to her dorm for a study date with two red bulls in his hand, and when she realized their tattoos beat the same.

"yeah, of course." she whispers against his lips, the feeling of his teasing lightly making her sniffle. she presses their lips together again, this time warmer, more comfortably and his hands move to her hips and tug her closer, her hands winding to his neck as his own hands explore her body, caressing her sides gently. he pulls back and holds her softly.

"your hair smells nice." he says sheepishly, and she grins so widely she thinks she may split in two. her heart flutters as she looks into his eyes, finding nothing but love. "orange creamsicle, huh?" she asks with pink cheeks, and he laughs lightly, nodding his head. "best smell ever, babe."

"you make me happy." she says it onto his lips again, and the shiver that runs down his spine is a feeling he wouldn't mind feeling forever. his heart soars because he believes her, he trusts her. she wouldn't lie to him.

"we're so dramatic, aren't we?" richie jokes, his walls sliding back up a bit, but as y/n cuddles into his chest, head against his beating heart as she presses kisses to his neck, he realizes she accepts him.

"yeah, well. we're made for each other, aren't we rich?" she asks gently as his hand falls to brush over her thigh, right over the words. "that's right, toots." he says softly, looking down at her hairline softly, still in disbelief that it worked out for him. she turns to look at him, cheeks dusted a bit as she leans up to press a kiss on his lips.

tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings​ @stenbrozier​ @simplesammyx​ @dickology64​ @clownsloveyou​ @baby-yoda-a @moon-shine-baby​ @daughter-of-the-stars11 @lets-vibe-bro​ @trashedfortozier​ @oceandog13​ @finnskindofwoman​  @kait-tozier​ @upamongthestarss​ @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs 

[meetthefantasticmrfox]

The Librarians

Summary: Jeremy Scalera (Jeremy sounds more natural than Janus...seriously who would name their kid Janus?! Sorry to anyone named that but you deserve better. JanICE does not count.) is the head librarian at Hawthorne Library and antisocial intellectual with a taste for being alone and silence. Logan Constell (short for constellation, not his actual last name in this fic) is strikingly similar. So what happens when these two antisocial and intelligent loners cross paths in an interview that was sure to change both their lonely souls.

Pairings: Loceit

Alternate Universes: Human Au, Vitiligo Au (Human! Janus Headcannon technically)

Warnings: Mentions of disabilities and a few mild swear words. A smidge of angst at the very end. Let me know if anything else needs to be added.

Hope you enjoy my dears!!

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Edit: Chapter 2 is here! The Librarians Chapter 2

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The Hawthorne Library was run by a bitter and short tempered know-it-all named Jeremy Scalera...He was exactly 5 foot 3 and 120lbs with a thin frame and even thinner shoulders. His skin was the color of milk chocolate but his smooth sweetness of skin was interrupted by a clash of white splotches scattering his body. Jeremy had been born with vitiligo which resulted in a crude nickname of ‘Dairy Cow’ all the way through his middle school years. This influenced him to hide as much skin as possible using gloves, scarves, and extensive wool jackets and sweaters. This wasn’t entirely odd since at the time he had lived in Minnesota and it was freezing all the damn time. Now he lived in Florida where you either were sweating or shirtless.

“Please let this be a quiet day...” He muttered as the door to the library slammed shut behind him. 

It was exactly 7 ‘o clock in the morning and the library was in need of opening. Jeremy was the only employee of the library and he practically lived there. Sure he still owns an apartment and everything, but he prefers the guaranteed silence at night with the library. His office had a small cot in it with a bathroom and a small kitchen fridge and a few counter-tops to hold his microwave, sink, and single cabinet. 

Jeremy’s morning consisted of walking down to the RelativiTea coffee shop down the street that was operated by one of Jeremy’s old classmates. One who hadn’t mocked him because he himself had a disability, Roman Sancleur had turret syndrome (is that right?). Jeremy might have even considered him a friend had they ever talked to each other than exchanging a coffee order.

“Morning Jeremy.” Roman said out of reflex. His fingers twitched every now and then along with the skin under his eyes, but that was more on the fact that Roman had had no sleep last night because he was too busy drinking coffee and teas left over from the day before and watching Disney movies. 

“Just the iced chocolate mocha today.” The librarian sighed and leaned on the counter. He always got here early to avoid the morning rush. 

Roman set a drink onto the counter already prepared.

“You’re too predictable Jerry. Why don’t you ever shake it up a bit?” Roman leaned over the counter getting a little too close for Jeremy to like. No romantic signs came from the barista, more so curiosity.

“First of all don’t call me ‘Jerry’ please, and second I like consistency. This doesn’t take too much out of my paycheck from the city and it’s tasteful.” Jeremy hissed and put a five dollar bill on the counter as he always did. The drink was actual $2.73 but he didn’t ever like change so Roman always got a pretty generous tip.

Jeremy walked out of the coffee shop without another word and entered back into his solitary space just a block away.

The head-librarian set down his coffee on the horseshoe desk in the center of the library and the jingle of his keys echoed.

“I hope I’m not intruding.” A smooth voice laced with calm sounded behind Jeremy and he jumped.

“Mother of damnation who the hell are you?!” The librarian spun around and gripped his hand on the can of pepper spray he kept on him at all times.

“I-I suggest no hostility, and I advise you keep your voice down...we are in a library after all.” The stranger raised his hands in defense. “I’m sorry to have startled you, but the door was unlocked and I assumed you were in your office.” The man was oddly calm despite the can of pepper spray aimed at him and the clearly hostile look in Jeremy’s eyes.

“My name is Logan Constell. I came to apply for a job here.” The presumed ‘Logan’ folded his hands behind his back and only then did Jeremy begin to notice his features.

Logan wore tight black framed square classes, a smooth black dress coat and a navy undershirt with a star-flecked tie across and brighter blue fabric making up the tie itself. His shoulders were broad and his chin sculpted almost so finely one could mistake him for a statue if he had been gray. 

Speaking of gray, his eyes were a brilliant icy blue-ish gray that sparked with intelligence Jeremy had never seen before. Then there was his hair, pitch black it seemed to be made of the dark matter of space itself. The lightness at which it was folded back and not a single sign of gel or any other product other than a mint smelling shampoo and conditioner. He was so put together with his black slacks and dress shoes to top everything off.

“It doesn’t make much...” Jeremy said steadily despite the rushing feeling running through his veins. He set the pepper spray down next to his coffee and Logan began to approach him which with every inch closer the head librarian’s heart beat a little quicker until it was skipping.

“I have no one to provide for but myself and my hydroponics garden.” Logan stated and held forward a piece of paper with a series of qualification statements and columns.

“I don’t need a resume...I just need you to answer a few questions.” Jeremy quickly said and slipped behind his horseshoe desk. 

“I would be happy to answer them.” Logan said blankly.

“As I would hope.” Jeremy glanced up at him as he sat down in the old roller chair with a creak. 

“Age?” He started.

“Twenty-Three years, seven months, and fifteen days.”

“Are you organized?”

“To a fault some might say.” Logan replied cooly.

“Do you have balance well on a 14 foot ladder?” Jeremy shot back.

“I’ve never tried, but I have a high pain tolerance and have been reported a fast healer.” 

“Then you’re hired.” Jeremy rose from his chair and stuck out his hand. Logan took it in a firm grip that shot sparks through Jeremy’s arm and heat shooting up his face then he let go and the sparks vanished.

“When do I start?” Logan’s eyes held the slightest hint of joyous feeling but it was masked behind the gray and blue storm.

“The library opens in five minutes which should be enough time to get your tag done.” Jeremy offered a smirk which was met with only the slightest twitch of the others lips and the flicker of those eyes casting over the librarians face.

~Time Skip~

It’d been three weeks since Logan had started working at Hawthrone and every glance or movement seemed to attract Jeremy’s attention. He had considered going to see a doctor at this point but the Library’s salary and the fact Jeremy didn’t have insurance wasn’t exactly ideal.

“Good morning Jeremy.” Logan said one day as he walked in. 

“Morning Lo.” The other responded calmly. This was about all that was exchanged by them verbally on most days.

The first three days at the library Logan had worn a simple silver band on his ring-finger then it had disappeared. Today seemed like an okay day to finally question his new employee about it.

“So...I noticed you stopped wearing the ring.” Jeremy said casually one day as he stocked the shelves. It was closing time and Logan was better at checking back in books than Jeremy.

“What ring?” Logan asked blankly, barely glancing up at the brown and tan head librarian.

“The silver band you wore the first three days you were here.” Jeremy clarified.

“I didn’t think it had any significance to my work here.”

“It doesn’t.” The conversation fell quiet for a few seconds before one of them spoke again.

“If you don’t feel comfortable with telling me it’s fine. It was just a silly question worth a bit of satisfied curiosity.” Jeremy said hurriedly as he started to ascend the ladder. The book he had in his left hand belonged at the top shelf.

“No...it’s just I don’t wish to make you uncomfortable or loose this job.” Logan rushed out.

“Why would I fire you? Or feel uncomfortable?” Jeremy asked slowly as he reached the fifth level.

“Because that ring was my tie to my ex-husband.” Logan said quietly, barely loud enough for the man on the ladder to hear.

“Oh...” There was a pause with only the sound of clicking keys and the steps of Jeremy climbing the ladder. “Well that’s nothing to ashamed of. Some people just don’t fit.” He quickly said after an extended period of time that felt longer than it should have and he reached the top and began moving books around to shelve the one in his hand.

“You’re not...going to judge me?” Logan seemed surprised.

“Well no. Who you choose to love is not up to me, and it’s not like I have anything against gays or bisexuals or any of the LGBTQ community. I myself am apart of it.” Jeremy reassured him and started climbing down slowly. The ladder rings dug into his worn shoes and hit against his old socks, further sinking into the bottom of his feet.

“Fascinating.” Logan muttered. Jeremy pretended not to hear and as silence once again claimed the room the sun began to send a orange glow over the dark gray carpeted floors of the house of books. Jeremy looked up to see the tangerine and apricot that now spilled through the windows like a waterfall to a lake. 

Jeremy didn’t stop his descend though and his foot caught on a ring, but before he could notice he slipped and fell. All the way from the seventh level down to Earth and before he hit the ground something snapped and pain rocketed through his left leg as black crowded his vision. Nothing existed except the abyss.

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

AAAAAAaaaaaand that’s Chapter 1. If this chapter gets some love or I get bored then I’ll check out getting a Chapter 2. 

Until next time my Foxlings! <3 <3 <3

[mere-mortifer]

Valentine’s Day Exchange  🎈 Masterlist

Thank you to everyone who took part in the exchange! Some works are still being updated, and others will be posted in the next few days, but I didn’t want to post this too long after Valentine’s day itself. 

❧  Ships: 

Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak

Richie Tozier/Stanley Uris

Richie Tozier/Mike Hanlon

Mike Hanlon/Stanley Uris

Stanely Uris/Bill Denbrough

Bill Denbrough/Ben Hanscom

Beverly Marsh/Stanley Uris/Richie Tozier 

🎈 Ao3 collection 🎈 | Links and summaries after the cut! 

Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak

❧  by @illwriteyouatragedy

1. cherry cordial | E | 1/1 He’s staring down hard at his phone, scrolling aimlessly through Facebook without reading anything, when someone bumps into him. Whoever it is grabs the pole, their hands brushing against each other’s. Right in his ear, the guy says, “Fucking shit, you’re hot.” Eddie’s head jerks up, startled, and he meets the bright blue eyes of a man at least eight inches taller than him. The guy’s got a pink knit cap tugged down over his head and a spill of curls falling down from it, his glasses fogging up in the warmth of the train car. “What?” Eddie demands.

2. dark chocolate strawberries | T | 1/1 The way Eddie's looking at Stan— Richie’s been on the receiving end of enough of Eddie’s playfully-mad looks to know this isn’t one of them. His heart starts pounding again. He has to be overthinking things. There’s no fucking way he’s not. After all this time, how could he not be, since— Well. Then again, what the fuck does he have to lose? Maybe it’s the boxed wine talking, or the fact that his ability to keep in his own secret is hanging on by a fucking thread, or the way Eddie truly seems pissed that other people are kissing Richie like this, but— Regardless. Regardless, Richie wants to keep testing this theory.

❧ We reconnected by @kaspbrak-tozier-reddie | T | 1/1 Eddie had unexpectedly arranged a date for valentine's day with a guy who he had met online just to get over his nemesis, Richie. Richie owns a tattoo parlour right by Eddie's innocent flower shop but with Richie's loud music, Eddie is at a constant battle to keep his customers in the shop rather them leaving.

No matter how obnoxious and frustrating Richie is, Eddie can't help but wonder if the boy he knew before high school is still in there. Especially when he loses a fight with his store gate and Richie patches him up. If only Eddie could love his online friend as much as he loves Richie.

❧ You Don’t Even Like Boys by @tinyangryeddie | E | 1/1 The sign for the event looks significantly different than the invitation. “A Valentine’s dance?” Eddie squeaks at him, grinding his rolly suitcase to a halt. Sure enough, a loopy red cursive “after-auction Valentine’s Day dance” accompanies the ridiculous imagery. Richie wants to laugh - or maybe cry - it’s hard to tell the difference with Eddie staring at him like he personally assigned the theme and bought the tacky heart-shaped balloons to pile into the lobby. “I didn’t… know,” is all Richie can come up with.

❧ One for the money, two for the show by @mere-mortifer-writing | E | 1/3 Richie's not sure if he's about to get punched or something more pleasant, and as he's placing a bet with himself on which option is more likely, the stranger surges up to close the distance between them, and suddenly they're kissing. Or: Richie is a famous actor, and Eddie a college student who has never hear of him before. When they get papped arguing in public about a bad parking job, the media spins to story to make Richie seem like an homophobic asshole-nevermind that Eddie and him were already making out minutes after the photos were taken. There's one obvious way to clear Richie's name: pretend that Eddie and him had been dating all along.

❧ Sweet Like Sugar Venom by @sippingonsouthernrains | M | 1/1 Being Eddie’s sugar baby was nice. Being Richie’s was fun. Being both? Fucking exhausting. Or, the thrilling tale of one Stanley Uris acting as the human-embodiment of an eye roll as Richie and Eddie claim to compete for his affections. Of course, Stan recognizes that they’re only competing for each other’s affections, and it takes about two minutes for him to get completely tired of being in the middle of it.

❧ It’s not gay if you’re practicing to kiss girls! by @space-is-out-there | G | 1/1 Richie gets the losers invited to one of the biggest parties of the year! They’re prepared for booze, music, and lots of spin the bottle. The only issue? Eddie and Richie have never kissed anyone before and wouldn’t know where to start! Haha... unless 😳

❧ little pieces of nothing that fall by @spunknbite | E | 1/1 Eddie shook his head, lips quirking upwards in a confused half-smile that Richie was immediately drawn to. “You seem stupid familiar,” he said with a laugh. “I don’t think we know each other,” Richie replied, then added, like the moron he was, “I’d remember you.” This guy wasn’t the sort you forgot. Or, the one where it's 1998 and Richie sits down at the bar next to an asshole with a Palm Pilot.

❧ He loves me, he loves me not by Sirius_1910 | T | 1/1 With Valentine's Day coming and the Losers getting together to celebrate at the clubhouse, two boys try speaking feelings, but forget how messy they are on a daily basis. 

❧ Red washcloths and Bloody knuckles. by @toziersspaghettihead | T | 3/3 This shit should’ve been easy, y’know? You pretend to date your best friend so everyone else thinks you have found your soulmate. Richie had been praying for years that he would find the person made specifically for him. However at seventeen and he had yet to have his soulmark- It was concerning, He was starting to think that.. Maybe, Well maybe he was just one of the unlucky few that never found their other half. So the plan came along easily, One day- He was sprawled out on his bed, His best friend. It was late August and he was fucking melting in the heat, Eddie had his legs on top of Richie’s just laid out trying to cool off, With a Comic held above his face. Richie wasn’t as easily distracted that day, He was lost in thought, His music blaring- He prefered loud obnoxious songs any day compared to silence. Yet, His thoughts were running rampant. “Eds, Do you think I’ll ever find my soulmate?” The question had Eddie seizing. “Yeah, Obviously..Everyone has them.” He dropped his comic down onto the bed and sat himself up.

❧ simple words by @birightsrichie | T | 1/1 Eddie had spent his entire life dreading meeting his soulmate. Mainly because the first thing said soulmate was going to say to him was, "Do you come here often?" and Eddie did not want to spend his life with the type of person that would say something like that. He figured they would be extremely annoying and cheesy and probably a bit of an asshole, too. 

❧ Bolt by Satanders | T | 1/1 It's their first Valentine's day together and Eddie wants to surprise Richie, but Richie is not easily romanceable... 

❧ Fake It ‘Till You Make It by Jojosugay | G | 1/1 Richie takes Eddie to his managers valentine's day party pretending to be married.

❧  Welcome to the losers club by jack05writes | T | 1/1  Since bill had quit as the bassist of the losers club, he desperately needed replacing... Enter eddie kaspbrak.

❧  the townhouse by uhohcanteen | E | 1/1 richie snaps out of it faster than pennywise had anticipated. now, as richie rolls them both out of the way and start running away, they have got a lot ahead of them, including a night to remember. 

❧  Just Another Coffee Shop AU by @stardust-writer | T | 1/1 “You’re just jealous,” his friend Beverly would say. “You wish your lonely ass had someone to make out with today, but you’re stuck with me, a strictly platonic best friend.” “Correction, I was stuck with you,” Eddie says, holding up a finger. “Now that you’re dating Ben, I am, as you put it, a lonely ass.” Beverly laughs and then pulls him along, trying to appease her friend. And it’s not like she was wrong, Eddie just didn’t like to admit she was right. Because she tended to get smug when she was right and that was almost all the time. He already had to put up with it on a daily basis, he would rather it didn’t double on this godforsaken holiday. Or: It's Valentine's Day and Eddie is single.

❧  Illegal Moves by @northwindscookie | T | 1/1 Pizza plus beer plus our two favorite gay dumbasses equals a recipe for a Reddie's Valentine's Day. 

Bill Denbrough/Ben Hanscom

❧  butterflies and storms and ooey-gooey feelings by @lo-v-ers | T | 1/1 Ben Hanscom is the human definition of sunshine weaved into a warm heart and a generous soul and everything good that a person could possibly be. They met in their English 101 class freshman year, and they just clicked, and Bill has never felt as understood as he did when Ben looked him in the eyes and smiled and nodded and spoke with wisdom that an eighteen year old shouldn’t have. (Ben looks at Bill and sees the stars, glimmering and beautiful and breathtaking. He looks when Bill isn’t looking and he smiles and feels his heart flutter with joy and something else, but Bill doesn’t know that.) (At least, he doesn’t know it yet.)

Mike Hanlon/Richie Tozier

❧  head in the clouds but my gravity's centered by @queermccoy | G | 1/1 “There’s a situation,” he tells Eddie, who is sitting at his desk surrounded by textbooks and yellow legal pads filled with drawings of complex chemical and Matchbox 20 lyrics. “What is it?” Eddie asks, dropping his pen and turning in his rickety chair. There’s an edge of panic in his tone, like he isn’t there yet but could be in no time at all. “Mike Hanlon asked me to go see a movie!” Richie practically yells, hands in the air. He’s still huffing and puffing from running through campus and up the stairs. “So?” Eddie blinks, “We see movies with Mikey all the time. How is that a situation?” “Because he asked me to go out on Valentine’s Day!” Richie says and falls on his bed dramatically.

Richie Tozier/Stanley Uris

❧ making out is hard to do by winkyjinki | T | 1/1 With Valentine's Day coming up, Stanley Uris faces his biggest challenge since defeating an evil clown: getting his first kiss. 

❧ The Truth Is That I Think I've Had Enough by @reddie4thesinbin | E | 1/1 For the first time since Stan developed feelings for his best friend, Richie was finally single on Valentine’s Day, and Stan was fully planning on taking advantage of it. He invited Richie on a camping trip, just wanting one night where he could pretend, but Richie had different plans. 

❧  Moon Secrets by @the-ben-handsome | T | 1/1 When it gets to be a certain hour of the night is when everything gets all weird; truth or dare reveals secrets shared under the moonlight. 

Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris 

❧  The Bluejay In The Corner by  @adore-affection | T | 1/? He couldn’t keep it in any longer, but he couldn’t just tell someone, it was too dangerous. When he got up to his room he pulled out a thick page of blue stationery and began to write. 

❧ Reasons Why I Want To Fuck My Student's Brother by @aleckisverygay​ | Not rated  | 4/4 When Richie and Stanley find themselves hard-pressed for money, they decide to go job hunting in order to afford their bills and keep from being thrown onto the street in the middle of January. Little does Stanley know, a tutoring job quickly turns to something more when he meets Bill Denbrough, his student’s charming brother. Shenanigans ensue, Stanley has a sexual awakening and Georgie is hell-bent on hooking his brother up with the cute tutor.

Who knew a story about rampant libidos could be so emotionally fulfilling and have, like, meaning?

Mike Hanlon/Stanley Uris

❧  Happiness and Love Revolve Around You by CoolestLemon | M | 1/1 A cute little peek into Mike and Stan's relationship, especially as they try to buy their dream home. 

Beverly Marsh/Richie Tozier/Stanley Uris

❧  Our Man-At-Arms by SevlinRipley | T | 1/1 Beverly is often the one to pull the trigger. 

[themadauthorshatter]

GUESS WHO'S BACK? BACK AGAIN WITH TOPPAT!CHARLES!?

Man, I do not know how long it's been since I last made a post on Toppat!Charles, but it's been a while!!!!

If you haven't read the previous parts, you can find them here:

Part 1:

Part 2:

Part 3: https://themadauthors-bitch.tumblr.com/post/634320381188161536/i-dont-know-if-tumblr-showed-it-or-not-but-here

Part 4: https://themadauthors-bitch.tumblr.com/post/634769620050558976/welcome-back-one-and-all

Part 5:

Part 6:

As usual: RECAP!!!

Henry acts on his plan to rescue Charles, said plan being to use the location of the clan's next big heist to get info or Charles himself. The plan went awry with the heist succeeding, Ellie getting severely injured, and Henry getting the snot kicked out of him by none other than Charles himself, who had given up on the notion that he would be rescued and stepped up to join his captors. Confused about and torn apart by Charles's and Ellie's words, we left Henry alone and guilty over the night's events.

HEAVY recap, I know, but one more thing before we truly begin: Two of the clan's previous leaders make an appearance in this chapter.

We good with all that? Great!

ON WITH THE STORY!!!!!!

We start off in the dead in night, in the middle of the dessert. Quiet and still as the moon shines high in the night sky.

Terrence Suave sprints on the sand as best as he can, panting heavily because he hasn't been full-fledged running in an eternity. CCC trucks are speeding behind him, but there is a bank truck ahead that just started driving and like hell Terrence isn't getting on it, especially if the truck is heading towards the city.

Nets and tranquilizers are being shot at him to retrieve him, but a lot of the darts keep bouncing off his augmentations and thankfully missing him and lqnding in the sand.

The CCC trucks are catching up, but Terrence continues running, tired and sore; his lungs burning and the stumps of where his arms and leg used to be are sore, not the metal, though there is a phantom limb feeling going on and it is not a good feeling to have right now; even if one of his legs are metal, the other is sore as hell.

He gets closer to the bank truck as its speed increases, Terrence letting out a yell as he jumps and snatches the latch of the door and hops on, holding on for dear life as he sees the CCC trucks slow and eventually turn around.

He heaves and breathes very fast and heavily as he watches the sky, noting the orbital station.

"Right," he says raspily, "you sorry son of a bitch."

CUT TO HENRY!!!

We find him watching with a hollow expression as Ellie is doing some physical therapy to help her leg; Charles is surprisingly one hell of a shot.

The two partners haven't spoken since the plan backfired and while Ellie waves at Henry, Henry only keeps his expression.

It's hard to live life when you can't stop living.

The words have had plenty of time to sink in.

Ellie and Henry are the same.

And Henry feels dumb for not noticing sooner.

"Whatever happened between you two, you better patch it up before that CCC guy gets here."

Henry looks over his shoulder to see Galeforce walking to stand beside him.

"Bill Bullet called. Even though the mission... didn't go as planned, he still wants to bring you into his facility."

Henry turns back to Ellie in time to see her trip and fall down, her leg shaking. She's been walking for maybe an hour and, while she has gotten stronger, she is also tired and needs to rest.

'Only if Charles came back here safely. That was our agreement.'

"Guess he can't wait."

Henry continues to watch Ellie help herself into her crutches.

CUT TO THE ORBITAL STATION!!!

Charles is standing in that cafeteria area that Right was in in the Free Man ending and staring at Earth.

The heist was a success. The clan got the sapphire. No one got arrested.

But Ellie got hurt.

Sure, she wasn't there to help him, but she was still busy taking care of the toppat, and she got injured, so there's that.

"Like the view, kid?"

Charles doesn't look at Right when he walks up to and stands beside him.

"Reg always talked about wanting a view like this. 'E really liked the sky. Night, day, didn't matter. 'E jist didn't want to be stuck on the ground."

Charles turns his head slightly. "How close were you two?"

"Closer than you and those two criminals were."

Charles looks back at the window, content to let Right keep talking.

"The clan was in shambles after the last leader took over. Reg 'ad some big shoes to fill, and 'e knew that. Didn't stop 'im from stepping up." Right leans forward on the glass with his arm, his head against forearm. "'E was better than the other leaders. Smarter. 'E got the clan back on its feet. Never met a toppat leader who took good care of the clan."

Charles doesn't look at Right, but imagine if this was a game cutscene or movie or something. We'd have Right be closer to the camera and in better focus with Charles beside him, but seemingly behind him, with how the shot is framed, and out of focus.

Charles is back in focus as he asks, "He was that good, huh?"

Right only nods, not looking away from Earth.

"If that's the case, he should've been more careful, then. None of this would've happened, if he was."

Quick as a flash, Right grabs Charles and smashes him into the window by his collar.

"Careful, pilot. You might be in the toppat clan, but no one 'ere'll stop me from throwing you out there."

Right glares at Charles for a second longer before letting him go and leaving the room with no more words spoken.

Charles resumes staring at Earth.

Sorry, Ellie.

CUT BACK TO EARTH!

Back to Henry sleeping in his bed. I know, I'm so original, right?🤪🥴

Don't worry, this time is different.😉

While Henry sleeps, someone quite rudely bursts into his room, waking him up.

Before he can draw the gun under his pillow, one cybernetic hand grabbing his mouth while the other holds down the hand that's going for the gun, and a normal, human knee digs into his stomach.

"Sorry to wake you up, but this is important."

Henry's eyes adjust and and he sees Terrence Suave over him, sweaty, ragged, and shaking from running for miles on end.

Henry stares at his father with wide eyes before using his free hand to write a message on Terrence's forehead: 'What. The. Hell.'

"Just stay quiet, okay? I have an idea on how we can get your friend back and keep you out of-"

Henry shakes his head and writes another message.

'It didn't work. He got away with the sapphire and won't let is help.'

Terrence sits back on his heels and pulls Henry up into a sitting position. "What happened?"

Henry looks at his feet and signs, 'We tried hijacking the heist they planned. I think they were expecting us. They got the sapphire and Ellie got shot. Charles was with them.' Henry starts choling up and his signing becomes rougher. 'He won't come back. He shot Ellie. He shot us both. He's one of them now.'

Terrence lowers his head and runs his fingers through his hair at the news. "That's... I... I'm so sorry." After a second, he asks, "How is she? Your friend Ellie?"

Henry shrugs before signing, 'Getting better. We aren't talking right now.'

"You should," Terrence states matter-of-factly with a scowl. "She's the only friend you've got left and she's going through something that'd be easier to deal with with someone there for her."

Henry glares back. 'She's been through worse. And what do you know about being there for others?'

Terrence rolls his eye. "We're really getting into this right now? What did she even do? The clan took the sapphire and not her, right?"

At this, Henry nods, slowly and shamefully.

"Then quit being a baby and man up. Don't you two want to get your friend back?"

Henry doesn't respond for a second, after which he signs. 'What was your plan?'

Terrence's face stretches into a smile. "You might want to throw some clothes on and wake up your girlfriend."

Henry blanches at those words, but doesn't get anything out as Terrence leaves the room.

Nonetheless, he gets up and meets Terrence and Ellie outside, the latter using crutches because her leg isn't strong enough yet.

Remember, neither have talked since the night of the heist, so both are silent before Ellie asks, "So, um, who's this?"

"Terrence Suave," Terrence replies as he ahakes Ellie's hand. "Although he won't admit it, I'm Henry's father."

Ellie's eyes widen as she looks between the two. "Huh. I can see the resemblance."

Henry shakes his head and signs, 'Plan.'

Terrence gives Henry a withering look. "All work and no play, huh?" When neither Ellie or Henry answer back, Terrence sighs; we're done playing around now.

"You remeber that Wall place you were held at?"

"How hard is it to forget?" Ellie groans back.

Despite the unnecessary amount of salt, Terrence continues, "I have a friend there that has connections with the clan."

"As in he got arrested?"

"As in I sent him there to spy so I could plan a heist on the treasury. Guess Reg and Right forgot about him." He gives a chuckle and rubs the back if his head. "And you give me snark for leaving you," he says to Henry.

Henry glares at his father before the gears in his head start turning and he starts smiling.

'I think we need to pack our bags.'

Ellie joins him in this smiling, as does Terrence.

CUT TO THE WALL!!

It is a LONG trip to get to The Wall, and a long process of explaining that they're only there for visiting, not arrest.

It certainly didn't help that Dmitri and Grigori had CCC guards and Bill Bullet at The Wall.

At the sight of them, Terrence quickly rushes Ellie and Henry into a nearby office and locks the door behind them.

"What was-"

"Okay," Terrence says slowly and under his breath, "change of plan. We're not doing this."

Where Henry rolls his eyes, Ellie bristles.

"Why not?"

Terrence mumbles under his breath, but both Henry and Ellie hear him say something along the lines of, "I kinda escaped, and now everyone's sort of looking for me."

Ellie cuts in, "You didn't think they'd look there first?"

"Give me a break, Red," Terrence barks. "I figured they'd be looking somewhere else by the time we got here."

Henry slinks past them and cracks the door open enough to look out into the cafeteria.

No wonder they overthrew you.

Henry watches Dmitri and Bill continue talking, the latter nodding at the former's words. When Bill looks over Dmitri's shoulders, Henry slips back inside and shuts the door; there are now more eyes than ever.

"What do we do?"

Henry gulps and shrugs before leaning back.

Terrence, however, is busy looking at files on a computer, specifically looking through the inmates that were arrsted during the time of Infiltrating the Airship.

I know. Great team dynamic, right? Best team ever, 10/10.

"Good news, I found Reggie."

Both Ellie and Henry turn to Terrence, who is very proud that he used a computer after so long and having only one eye.

"Twelfth floor. Just four levels down. If we're careful, we can take the stairs."

Henry shakes his head and points up to a vent, not in the ceiling, but close to it, on the wall.

He begins signing, but Ellie only looks confused as Terrence shakes his head.

"Not a good idea. You can crawl through just fine, but what about me and Ellie? How are we supposed to crawl around with this-" He points to his cybernetic leg, "-and that?" He points to Ellie's injured leg.

"What's he saying?"

"Apparently, our only option is to crawl our way to Reg through the vents, which is going to be impossible."

Henry signs agian, more frustrated now.

"We can't afford to be safe at the moment, if you haven't noticed." Terrence shakes his head and stage whispers to Ellie, "Close minded, just like his mother/father". (YOU decide if Henry's other parental figure was a man or a woman; I know toxic masculinity states men can't have emotional breakdowns that lead their kids into growing kleptomaniac tendencies, but I say FUCK TOXIC MASCULINITY).

Back on track, the comment APPALLS Ellie and makes Henry raise a fist, ready to swing-

"HEY!"

All three turn as the guard bangs on the door.

"HEY! WHO'S IN THERE!? OPEN THE DOOR!"

With no more options, the three climb up into the vent, Terrence and Henry helping Ellie before Henry and Terrence climb in, just getting into and closing the vent as the guard, Dmitri, and Bill enter.

"Strange, I thought there was someone..."

As the guard trails off, Bill takes a look at the computer and then the vent as Dmitri yells at the guard; the warrant's reputation has suffered enough already with Henry's and Ellie's escape.

Ellie is wide eyed as she covers her mouth, Terrence is scooting backwards as slowly and quietly as he can, and Henry only stares back at Bill.

"Is there something wrong here, Corporal?"

Bill is silent as he and Henry continue to stare each other. Neither move or blink.

"No," Bullet says after a long couple of minutes. "Nothing at all."

Dmitri turns his heel and leaves the room with the guard following.

Bill takes a second, though, and closes the page Terrence was on.

With a wink and nod to Henry, he leaves the room and shuts the door behind him. "Don't be so hard on your guards, Dmitri. Rookies are allowed to make mistakes."

No one in the trio speaks for a little while, but Henry gives Ellie a smile. 'We're gonna be okay.'

With her leg still healing and his body being more than half metal, Henry is alone as he retrieves Reginald Copperbottom.

CUT TO OUR FRIEND, THE PREVIOUS TOPPAT CLAN LEADER HIMSELF!!!!

Currently, Reginald is lying on his bed and staring at the ceiling of his cell, bored and hungry because the guards lost track of time again.

To say living in The Wall was bad is an understatement. Honestly, Terrence has had it better than our boy Reginald because at least the CCC crew cared about Terrence's well being and mental state. (They don't want Terrence going insame and causing chaos.)

The time alone has also made him incredibly lonely and made him realize just how much he's taken for granted. Having colleagues doing stuff for and with you being one. Privacy is another.

Mostly, though, he misses Right, not having him AS his right hand man, but just having him around.

But he's gone.

He remimds himself of that a lot, but that doesn't stop his mind from wandering back to Right.

Henry kicks the vent open and bursts into the cell, throwing himself to his feet like a badass.

At the sight of the guy who got him arrested in the first place, Reginald presses himself against the wall, getting as small as he can; he has no weapons, no one to defend him, and it's only him and Henry in the room.

"Wait! WAIT! Don't-"

Before he can finish, Henry grabs him by the collar and points to the vent.

"What? What are you saying?"

Henry groans and rolls his eyes before writing on Reg's hand with his finger, like he does with Ellie.

'Want to get out of here and see the Right Hand Man again?'

Reginald is silent for a second, feeling the world stop for a second.

"He... He's-"

'He's alive, yes! And he has my friend Charles!'

Reginald purses his lip and pouts as he 'hmphs' and turns his head to the window. "I'd say it serves you right, given what you did to the clan and my right hand man."

Henry slaps him for that one.

'It doesn't matter now. Do you want to stay here or see him again?'

On the intercom, Grogori announces, "Attention, everyone. There are intruders here in The Wall. Keep an eye out and report to the warrant once you find and apprehend them."

It makes Henry pale and Reginald smirk.

"GUARDS-"

Henry smacks a hand over Reginald's mouth and writes, 'LAST CHANCE. I WILL LEAVE YOU HERE, IF YOU DON'T AGREE TO COME WITH ME RIGHT NOW.'

As guards run closer, Reginald looks between the door and Henry, who hasn't broken eye contact ONCE.

This is his only chance of freedom, and, regardless of who's offering it, it is something he is going to look over.

Reginald nods and replies, "Alright," behind Henry's hand.

Both are gone when the guards arrive.

Inside the vent, Reginald groans in disgust as he crawls. "When do you suppose these were last cleaned? Is there no regard for good conditions here?"

Henry groans again and punched the back of Reginald's thigh.

CUT TO OUTSIDE THE WALL!!!!!

Ellie and Terrence are sitting outside as guards run around like ants, simply watching as they have acquired a truck. (HURRAY!!)

"What's taking him?" Ellie ponders as she rests her head on the steering wheel. "I hope he didn't get caught."

"He'll be okay," Terrence replies, much to Ellie's surprise because of his earlier comment. "He's smart. Knows what he's doing." He turns to her, noting the slight bags under her eyes. "You two really care about each other, don't you?"

Ellie shrugs. "Well, yeah. Honestly, Henry and Charles... are the first real friends I've ever had." She sits up and tips her head as she smirks. "Ever tried having a game night with a heist partner?"

Terrence hisses and winces at that as he leans against the truck. "Try having a party with FIFTY of them. Don't know what got stolen from my room, but I never got it back."

Ellie chuckles. "Some loyal toppats."

Terrence can't help but snicker back. "Indeed."

Ellie's smile drops as she remembers what Henry told her, and the earlier comment. "Did you... Did you know about Henry before he visited you?"

"Of course I did," Terrence replies, more than a little offended at the question. "He's my son. Why wouldn't I?"

Ellie turns to the road they'll have to start driving on and rests her chin on the steering wheel. "He's just... confused on why you picked the clan over your family."

Terrence chews on his lip at that, more specifically the word Ellie used.

"He said you told him life is for living."

"I did," Terrence agrees. "Guess we have different opinions on what 'living' is."

Ellie nods, though she's more agreeing with Henry's 'living' than his father's.

"And I didn't pick the clan. I chose it."

Ellie scrunches her nose. "Same thing."

"Picking is what you do in an icecream shop when you want cookies cough or mint chocolate chip. Choosing is when you decide whether or not you want to be somewhere because it makes you or everyone happy. Picking is what you do in a shelter when you look for a cat or a dog. Choosing is figuring out what cat or dog you want to take home and take care of. Picking is me jumping form person to person just so I can get what I want from them, valuable stuff of any kind, money, skill, you name it. Choosing is me staying with what I see as having more value that I could use at any given time. Make sense?"

Ellie nods after a second. "Was it worth it?"

Terrence points to her leg. "Was that worth meeting Henry, Mrs. 'Living with many lives?'"

Ellie narrows his eyes, and Terrence holds up his hands.

"Easy, girl. No. It wasn't worth it. And I know because I chose wrong. I literally remind myself every day that I chose wrong. Won't change a thing, though." He turns to The Wall, watching the guards. "If he messes this up, it's all over."

SPEAK OF THE DEVIL!!!!!!

Henry and Reginald sprint towards the truck, Ellie and Terrence waving them over.

The sight of the cybernetic male halts Reginald in his steps.

"T-Terrence... Suave!?"

Terrence glares at Reginald and crosses his arms. "Hey, Reggie."

"Y-You... But, I-... You-eh..."

Henry taps them on their shoulders and points to the truck, signing, 'Save it for later! Let's go!'

Before Terrence or Ellie can ask why, the four hear motorcycles approach, Dmitri riding one as a passenger and aiming a gun at the truck they're commandeering.

Ellie starts the truck and gets it moving as Terrence skids into the shotgun seat as the truck picks up speed.

Soon, Henry and Reginald are both sprinting as fast as they can behind the truck with both doors open. Having had more training and in the time between FtC and this timeline of CtM, Henry can better keep up with the truck, but Reginald is falling behind fast. Henry grabs Reginald's hand and pushes the former leader into the back of the truck.

"Don't stop!" Henry shouts as he grabs a bit of leather or cord hanging off the truck's back door and pulls it down, closing it and surprising Reginald.

As the truck speeds away, Henry makes a turn and darts into the woods.

The motorcycles follow, however, though they're on a path and not through trees.

Henry is ducking, diving, and constantly zigzagging as he's being shot at while trying not to run into a tree. For a while, he does okay, good, even, only getting scraped by stray branches and grazed by bullets, one in particular hitting his cheek.

But we know all good things must come to and end.

Henry looks behind him when he doesn't hear motorcycles behind him, only to look in front of him and get a tree branch to the face, not enough to knock him out but he does see stars.

Dmitri gets off the motorcycle he's on and gestures for the others to stay where they are, circling Henry as he tries to stand up.

"I knew you were here the moment that guard found the office door locked. Clever of you." Dmitri kicks Henry in the ribs and sends him back into the ground. "But not clever enough."

Henry expects another kick when he gets on his hands and knees, but it doesn't come; a punch does when he manages to get on his feet, one right into his nose that sends him spiraling back to the ground.

Remember, Henry just ran for maybe ten or fifteen minutes and got hit in the face with a tree branch.

There would have to be a miracle for Henry to win this fight.

"How long has it been since you and the girl escaped? A year? Two years?"

"Not long enough," Henry groans to mostly himself.

Dmitri slams his boot onto the back of his head for that one, earning a wince from some of the guards.

"Sir," one asks, "shouldn't we hold him up in maximum security?"

Henry's brain kicks into hyperdrive, already showing him how he could possibly escape such a situation, but a hard stomp on his hand snaps him out of it, making him scream because with his mind living another life, his body went numb, like he didn't have those injuries or they healed. The stomp just make every injure ten times worse.

"You've all seen how slippery this one can be," Dmitri shouts, grinding the sle of his boot into Henry's hand. "He escaped before, he can do it again."

Henry tries pushing off Dmitri's boot as he suddenly realizes what's probably going to happen to him; normally he wouldn't be worried because we've seen him come back from getting shot, but with Bill Bullet around there's a chance they can make sure he dies and doesn't come back, with all the CCC lniws already about Terrence.

Dmitri notices this and drives a really hard kick into Henry's teeth, sending him backward before stomping on his face, ribs, and legs.

"You've ruined everything I've worked for since the day I saw you, Henry Stickmin!"

Dmitri kneels down and grabs the hair on either side of Henry's head, smashing him into the ground repeatedly as hard as he can.

Before you start thinking I'm being too unfair to Henry during this scene:

Henry swings possibly the best punch ever and knocks out some fake acrylic teeth Dmitri had to get put in. It catches tolhe warrant off guard, and gives Henry the opportunity to kick him away.

With some more punching, hair pulling, and head smashing, THE FIGHT BEGINS!!!

Even with a busted hand, Henry does okay, mostly relying on right hooks and kicks to fight. Dmitri, however, is able to use simple punches, jabs, and hooks to knock out Henry.

It's something like a stilted dance, as in there's a little bit of a pause before the next attack.

Bith men beat each other bloody, but it ultimately ends with Henry kneeing Dmitri in the side and kicking him back, AND DMITRI CHEATING BY HITTING HENRY WITH A ROCK. (NO FAIR, DMITRI! YELLOW CARD AND FIVE MINUTE PENALTY!!!)

When Henry's down this time, though, Dmitri wastes no time driving his knee into Henry's stomach and slapping his hands around Henry's neck. The action makes Henry gasp because of the sudden air loss, having the wind knocked out of him before getting his air cut off, and start thrashing around, gagging and making all those gross choking sounds that make your stomach flip.

"Look at you," Dmitri spits as Henry tries to break free, kicking the ground and scratching at Dmitri's wrists. "All you rats are the same, but it was you that did all this! You cost me everything! You made me lose everything!" Dmitri tightens his grip on Henry's throat, making Henry gasp loudly. "Allow me to return the favor!"

On the ground, Henry is very quickly blacking out and can feel it as he tries hitting Dmitri off of him.

His movements slow and his eyes roll back as his hand drops.

BANG!

Dmitri falls back as the guards take aim at where the shot came from.

More shots are fired, a some guards are taken down while the rest chase down the shooter, one ordered to take Dmitri back to The Wall.

Terrence climbs out of the trees and shakes his head at an unconscious Henry.

"Stupid, stupid idiot," he mumbles as he picks up Henry and slings him over his shoulders. "What were you thinking? What the hell were you thinking?"

Terrence walks through the trees as he carries Henry, silent all the way until he reaches the edge of the woods.

Bill Bullet stands waiting for him.

The two stare each other down, but Bill only stands with his hands in his pockets.

"You coming to take us back? We're a little busy right now."

"I can see that." Bullet sees Henry stir a little on Terrence's shoulders and fights the urge to smile; for someone who is so dangerous, he's so cute when he sleeps. "I guess genius over there has another plan?"

Terrence shakes his head. "It started off as my plan, but he had other ideas."

"Credit where credit's due."

After another silent stare down, Bill sighs and stands aside.

"He said he wanted his friend back safe before we brought him in. Better make this plan count."

Terrence nods as he seriously fights a smile and runs to where Ellie had left the truck, waiting for them both to get in so they can make like a banana and split.

[magioftheseas]

Stirring

For @i-demand-a-hug

Summary: In a post-canon AU where Akechi was temporarily an amnesiac after almost dying, Akira visits him at his work. Things are a little nostalgic for reasons.

Rating: T (?)

Warning: None really except for references to the plot. I guess. Akechi’s a little bitchy but I mean...

Notes: This might seem out of the blue because I’ve never really posted about p5. I haven’t fully played the game. I haven’t fully watched the anime. But I am interested in it because of a friendly friend who I’m writing this for because sOME WEIRDO was harassing them over their valid ship tastes. I may not know much, but I do know shuake is legit, so like, here’s a fic. Also, I’m using Akira Kurusu instead of Ren Amamiya because the former sounds nicer. It’s got that edge.

***Alternate Ao3 Link***

Commission? Donate?

It’s a bad idea to keep coming here.

It’s not the first time he’s thought that. It won’t be the last either. It’s also neither the first nor the last time he found himself in front of the same cafe, staring through the window where a certain waiter was washing tables. When that waiter glanced in his direction, he offered an achingly friendly wave.

And there was the slightest twitch at his lips.

Akira tries not to react, tries to keep his own usual grin as the other walks towards him and opens the door.

“Welcome, again,” is said oh so cheerfully. Perfect waiter behavior, and it never gets less amusing on this person. With their chestnut-brown hair tied back and that auburn gaze now striking. “I’m starting to think you’re obsessed.”

“Am I that obvious?” He fakes sheepishness, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I’m actually still gathering up the courage to ask you out.”

Another twitch to those features. And maybe, just maybe, Akira’s heart leaps a little.

“Ha-ha.” The waiter shakes his head. “Well, you haven’t tipped into harassment yet, I suppose. Unless you actually plan on loitering.”

“I’m good with actually paying for something,” he said.

“Then hurry up and come inside.” It was almost snapped at him, but the waiter was back to gentle smiles and a friendly demeanor as Akira followed his lead. He picked up a menu, leading Akira to his usual table, offering that same vapid smile as before. “The usual, I presume?”

“Yeah,” Akira replied, almost absently. “The usual. But maybe something sweet to go with it? Or maybe something spicy. What do you think? Pancakes or curry?”

The waiter froze momentarily, face tightening for a moment. Akira noticed this, and they both reached the threshold of how much they were willing to overlook. If not for the setting, things between them would have erupted on the spot.

Instead, the waiter inhaled sharply, fingers going briefly to his nametag. The name printed on there was just another obvious lie.

“Curry,” was said through gritted teeth. “I think curry suits you best.”

Akechi spun on his heel and stomped away before Akira could say anything else. And he’s really not surprised. He’s nervous as hell, but not surprised. It’s not like brimming tension was unfamiliar when it came to one Akechi Goro.

How nostalgic. He really hasn’t changed from back then at all. Still all fake smiles and broiling with fury. That’s my Akechi alright.

Akira does straighten up, hoping that Akechi doesn’t take this moment to flee the scene. But when he squirms to try and see into the kitchen, there’s not much to look at. Just a bland set piece. Clean, but boring.

When Akechi stepped back out, he avoided his stare. He just went straight to making coffee as if on autopilot, although Akira could definitely criticize his technique. Too much of a shaky hand. Too hasty with the pouring. Not nearly enough creative flair. Clumsy in how he still seemed intimidated by syrup. Endearing in how he was now considerably flustered in handing him the cup.

“I don’t know why you even come here,” he remarked with a huff. “It’s clear I’m still an amateur.”

When I first came here, he was pretty earnest. It was unsettling. Adorable, but unsettling.

“I’m pissed you lied to me, by the way,” Akechi said. “Remember? When I first asked how it was? And you said it was great? Spineless coward.”

Akira shrugged, sipping at his coffee. His face pinched a little at the bitterness of it. Akechi’s messed up the flavor before, and his taste buds are still too refined to overlook it. Still, he offers Akechi an easy grin.

“It’s great. Delicious. I love it.”

“I hate you.”

He can’t help but laugh, especially at how Akechi’s cheeks were steaming red. When Akechi sat in the chair across from him, it was with enough force to cause the table to rattle. The coffee spilled a little onto his lap. It definitely burned through his pants. And Akira kept smiling at him stupidly.

“Your service skills are slipping,” he pointed out. “At this rate, you’re going to get fired.”

“This place is going out of business,” Akechi retorted. “As you no doubt noticed, it doesn’t exactly compare to LeBlanc.”

“I mean, few places do.” Akira shrugged again. “But, I mean, that’s still a shame to hear. I’ll miss ordering from you.”

Akechi’s eyes rolled irritably.

“I’m sure. You definitely weren’t coming here for the food.”

“It wasn’t bad. Do give the owner my regards.”

“I’ll be sure.” Akechi waved his hand. “Considering you were one of the very few regulars, it’ll be appreciated. Although you were also just one of many shallow idiots who only stopped by because you saw a pretty face.”

“You are pretty,” Akira hummed, almost admiringly. Akechi scowled at him.

“Well, great news. I have other jobs you can harass me at. I’ll have to get another to replace this one soon. Bills have to be paid, after all.” Akechi sighed. “And the living expenses just keep building. Just last week, my bathtub broke. Quite the fall from grace, wouldn’t you say?”

“Cheers to adulthood,” Akira chirped, lifting his cup. “You should see my student debt. So many zeroes it could make an old man cry.”

Even now, he got a little weepy remembering. And of course, Akechi giggled at the idea of him in pain. Adorably, at that.

He wanted it to last. He desperately wanted that more than he wanted a lot of things. Of course, Akechi’s smile drops as easily as it comes.

“So,” Akira can only say. “How much do you remember now?”

“Enough.” With a rather cold expression, Akechi pinched at his fringe. “It’s gross, remembering. Like wiggling your way into a second skin. It’s also not fun waking up from the nightmares. The worst part is that there are still things missing. I don’t know what they are and I dread finding out, but I can tell they’re there. Like...there’s some old bastard I’m supposed to hate with every fiber of my being, right? Even more than I hate you.”

“Yeah.” Akira nodded. “There was.” 

“Oh yeah, you and your little posse were in the business of mind control, right?” Akechi asks almost saccharinely. “I remember snippets of that. But I feel like it’s still far beyond my current understanding.”

“I mean, it's complicated,” Akira mutters into his coffee helplessly. “It’d take a while to explain, but it’s impossible these days. For what it’s worth.”

“Mmhm.” Akechi’s gaze was lidded. “Whatever those means were, I did terrible things through them, too.”

Akechi didn’t wear gloves anymore. It’s not the first time this has struck Akira as odd. But he does cast a glance at the other’s fingernails, noting how he had a tendency to pick at them. When he takes and squeezes Akechi’s hand, his first thought is marveling at how cold the skin is.

Akechi’s expression is a complicated one. His eyebrows are knitted, his face pinched like he’s anxious. Akira’s thumb running over his knuckles only causes his brow to furrow more and get his face that much closer to distorting. It’s nothing like in dreams or romantic fantasies, to be sure, but that Akechi has yet to stab his hand with a fork is progress.

“You still haven’t told me where else you work so that I can check up on you,” Akira said. “Will you keep your hair tied up?”

“Yes, but because of the wind not because of you.”

“Ooh, outdoor labor.” Akira crooned. “Will I get to see you lift?”

“I direct traffic, dumbass.”

“Oh, that’s actually terrifying. Too much power.”

Akechi snorted before slipping his hand out of Akira’s grip. Akira lets him, although his eyebrow waggles.

“One sec. The food should be ready.”

Akechi does wipe his hands off before going on his way. Perhaps out of spite. Perhaps out of habit. Maybe he actually was self-conscious about it. If he brought it up, he’d just get shut down so he was stuck pondering. There were many things he could only wonder about these days.

Like what he was doing right now, exactly? What was he hoping to accomplish? With Akechi mostly revived and his memories mostly restored, what was supposed to happen between them next?

“Our relationship is purely about equal terms.”

There was no reason to fight anymore. There was also no reason to see each other. And yet, the idea of just letting Akechi go and turning his back like none of it ever really mattered as if their interactions had only ever been out of necessity...and maybe some of them were. Maybe there were utilitarian exchanges between billiards and coffee.

If he really believed that, he wouldn’t have approached Akechi again in the first place. The sentiment of closure only held so much weight when it came to the messy relationships between messy human beings.

“If we had only met a few years earlier.”

Someday, it’ll be a few years later.

“Eat up,” Akechi announced, setting the plate before him. “Also, hurry. You’re the last customer for today and closing hours are coming up.” Akechi checks his watch. Akira notices that it’s pretty cheap. That the face is cracked. “I have another shift after this.”

“Can I come?”

“Only if you can keep up with a bike.”

“I definitely can.”

Akechi gives him a look but the corner of his lips twist the slightest bit upward. With a faded smile, Akechi taps his broken watch. Akira takes his first bite.

The curry was pretty unremarkable as always, but there was still that bit of spice he liked. There was nostalgia to this moment that helped sweeten the deal. It was overall pleasant, even if it, of course, wasn’t going to last. Still.

“It’s quite the run,” Akechi was muttering into his palm, looking away with a light pink dusting his cheeks. “There’s room on the bike. Just this once.”

He had a good feeling about the future.

[blooddrop-palace]

Project Updates - What to Look Forward To

<3 Hello all! I've realized (humbly) that I have a small following of very nice people that seem quite interested in what I've written so far, and after seeing some mutuals post update-status posts, I thought I should share what's going on with my projects, also. (Thanks for the encouragement, @queenmuzz!)

Updated Dec-10-20

Sons of Fortune

Probably somehow my main focus now, though I am steadily working on other works. Currently working on the “In Between” special short before I start on Chapter 12.

I would also like to talk a little bit about my plans for this story: if anyone has paid attention to this story's tags, yes, I am touching up on the plots of most of the games. In fact, all of them, and the anime. (I already dealt with DMC4. No, I will not tear apart Fortuna lol.) Not all relevant tags are in, yet, because small spoilers. It looks like it's going to be a long while before I even get to the Temen-ni-gru, though. (There is a reason why that event is getting pushed back.) I want to have fun with the family fluff that is the twins each learning how to parent, first. 

Hell Froze Over, and We Shall Reignite It

The drama of it all! Dante and Vergil are finally back from Hell, and Nero doesn’t even know his mother is now standing right in front of him. Meanwhile, even I’m anticipating seen how Snow and Dante is going to handle the obvious things currently unsaid... and I have a feeling a small measure of stupidity is still going to be involved.

Current chapter progress: Outline complete.

It's going to feel so interesting, shifting from "Fortune" back to Reignite. I get to write Sera and Vergil falling in love all over again, with a different set of circumstances. Whoa.

And, and... Nero meeting Sera... odd that I'm saying this as the writer, but I have a "I hope he likes his mom" feeling going on. 

Also, no doubt Dante's brain is going to 404 when he sees Snow. 

Nico prepares popcorn.

This is Not an Office Rom-Com

I have... about 8 new skits planned out. Nothing more written just yet.

That’s all I’m saying about this for now. =P

Hierarchy of Kings

Purely indulgent M/M romance of Vergil and an OC, existing all thanks to

@wordborne

Working on chapter 2. 

I know I said 3 chapters only. I might have lied depending on how much I want to write. It's supposed to be just... awkward fluff of a listless part-devil who somewhat-recently lost his mate, got in a bit of a tiff with his brother, and now his children are trying to set him up with the prospective-king-of-hell, Vergil. 

I think about this one a lot but I haven't written anything new for it yet, only because "Fortune" is taking over my life right now, haha.

Through the Lens of the Beholder

Okay, so...This story has no real plot. As a result, my drive for it is purely down to "if I think of a badass or cool photograph to describe." There is a TINY bit of plot. Only a little. And I don't know when I'll update. But this is why I'm trying not to START new projects. Four  is a lot already! But because this one is supposed to be simpler than the other two, I will most likely finish this one before the others, so I can open a new project. 

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

Speaking of new projects... Here are things ideas bouncing through my head:

- I still have a prompt from @maybeishouldwait sitting in my inbox. I WILL have it done one day, when I find the perfect way to write it. 

A whole, entirely royally late set of Dadgil week fics.  Yep. I want to write them. They just won’t be on time. 

Written in Ink

A plot-less post-DMC5 story. 

I say plot-less. There is a plot. The plot is:

Dante: Damn it, Verge, are you trying to turn my office into a zoo??

In which Vergil compulsively starts contracting strong demons he's defeated, left and right, because he's discovered "the joy of pets." The demons all take on a dark animistic form and things get wild. 

A Persona and DMC fusion/AU

I have no title for this yet, and I absolutely cannot start this one until I have finished one of my other big projects. This one will take a lot of big planning, because I am making a new plot, using the mechanics of Persona, with DMC characters and setup.

What I want to write, is a teenage Nero as the protagonist, trying to solve a mystery... probably starting with the sudden disappearance of his mother. (Most likely Sera.) And he meets a lot of "new" people, and even finds new family... and yes, he will find his dad. (I'm thinking he'll know about Vergil, though. At least in name and a photo? Isn't that an interesting difference?)

For those of you not familiar with Persona, the major theme I really want to play with is that of the protagonist growing as a person (and in power) by befriending different people that helps them grow as a person. Each party member and important NPC is represented by a Tarot Card, signifying the type of journey the protagonist (The Fool) "embarks" with that character. There is growth in both the protagonist and that characters. 

Again, this is ambitious to try and pull off... but it's in the back of my head. I'll focus on it once I've cleared some other stuff. 

Sugar Sweet

A somewhat short-chapter series reader fic... of a surgeon/doctor!reader (barely 30 and good at what you do) who often saves the lives of shady people (e.g. mafia) because you care about saving lives, not the politics. But you do make good money out of it. (Hey, you gotta be at least a bit morally ambiguous if you're going to deal with devils.)

You meet one mess of a young mercenary named Dante, who is totally not human and deals with things like having bullets healed into his back, and he can't reach them to cut them out. 

Dante doesn't care about bills for his office, or a lot of the debts in his life. You don't know where his money is going, or if he even makes much money at all (for the kind of specialty work he does? Money's going somewhere, but that's none of your business.)

You won't pay Dante's bills, or his debts, but he will accept pizza and ice cream. And new parts for his jukebox. And maybe a motorcycle. Or a new coat. Or a new car...

And you might complain to him about your dumb patients. Or just listen to him talk about his job. Or you two watch a movie together.

And this just continues. For years. 

Tokusatsu DMC fusion/AU

So. First thing's first: I'm a big fan of Sentai/Tokusatsu. What is that, you might ask? It's a Japanese genre, and if you're familiar with Power Rangers, that's derived from Sentai. 

Basically: Masked heroes with transformation gadgets, sometimes with motorcycles, fighting against evil. ("Magical girls" but strictly the opposite, a lot more physical combat involved, may involve upgrade gadgets, and not strictly limited to male heroes though mostly a male cast. Also not strictly for male-only audience. Girls like the eye-candy, too. :eyes-emoji:)

Why am I thinking about this?

Because I have found out that: Vergil's VA, Dan Southworth, was the Quantum Ranger (WHICH WAS RED). Nero's VA, Johnny Yong Bosch, was a Black Ranger and a Green Ranger. 

...And Dante's VA, Reuben Langdon, had a role in a Japanese Toku show as "B-Fighter Yanma" forever ago???? (HE WAS BLUE!!)

What am I going to do with this info? I'll let you know later. But my Sentai/Toku-loving little heart is about to burst with hyperfixation overlap. 

If I ever write this out, expect it to be just as cheesy as an actual Kamen Rider show. Or, at the very least, expect some art. I love Kamen Rider stuff!

Family Fantasy MMO

Snow introduces Dante, Vergil, Nero, and Kyrie to Final Fantasy 14 (because that’s the MMO I play) for family bonding. Yep. Mainly for silly indulgence.

Stardew Valley Visit

Post DMC5, Vergil and Dante accidentally end up going on a vacation when they try to leave Hell. No pairing with the farmer, but instead just a relaxing and somewhat introspective moment of the boys being stuck with most of their power temporarily sealed, learning how to take care of a farm, and maybe do a bit of healing by interacting with the townsfolk while they try to find out where their swords went and how to get home. 

Re-Colourize

Otherwise what I would call the “re-colour of Nero and Snow” AU. 

What if Vergil was found by Kassy’s family and raised among them? What if Dante ended up briefly in Fortuna and then convinced Sera to run away from the island?

What if we have a Nero who, though brash, is outwardly more soft and open-hearted, and has red-orange and gold colours instead? What if we have a Snow who is named Chiyuki, who wields her katana more like Vergil does, and has a more ice-queen aura about her, and has a teal and blue colouring about her?

This is my excuse to switch up the pairings, but also write Vergil being taught to fight more like an assassin. 

Raised by the Blade

Imagine: Yamato, cracked, broken, and separated from her Master... desperately searching for a way to get back to him, and ended up washed up on the shores of Fortuna. Humanoid, but clearly not if anyone saw the cracked, broken, and no-normal look of “shattered” in her torso, that she would have to keep covered. 

Made from the power of Sparda, she is pale with white hair... and she finds herself drawn to the orphanage...

Where she finds the toddler that is Nero.

Devil Hunters’ Podcast

Nico “accidentally” finds entertainment in recording the Sparda Family arguments as they talk about hunting; after all, they all share one braincell. 

Ascended Monochrome

A white angel remains by the side of Nelo Angelo. Mundus was not pleased by the behavior of his second creation, from the human woman that he had picked up with the treacherous Son of Sparda. But he later discovered that by using her, he could keep Nelo Angelo complacent. Eventually, underestimating love will be his downfall.

Fall to Royalty

A story of where Vergil wins against Mundus the first time, and takes the throne of Hell. But what is he to do next? Eventually, ruling Hell seemed meaningless when there was no one by his side, so he goes to seek out the Lady Knight that he had vowed to never think of or go back to unless he had obtained the power he sought.

Doppelganger Woes

So, I heard Capcom retconned Gilver to be some sort of imitation created by Mundus. I’m all for this! And I’m going to DO something with this.

Side-Project: DMC Tarot List

I started on this maybe months ago; and I have a tentative list oh what characters go with what card and a few detailed descriptions. I think I should confer with

@harlot-of-oblivion

at some point about this, and anyone else interested in, well, Tarot stuff. 

[blackevermore]

x Within the Days The Bombs stood still [Au Lore/Plot]

x Whaaat another god damn au? Yes...Yes....Because my mafia au and historical lady in waiting au isn’t enough for me. I love making aus, it’s my drug honestly

What’s this one about Cev?

x Cold war era, androids, falling in love with the wrong person, trying to stay alive, and a bittersweet ending! Is it all historically accounted for? Nah. But It’s a funny little idea.

Sit back, relax and get ready for this. It’s gonna be good.

x Okay so while watching an ASMR where the listener was a robot and the YT was repairing them I had the idea of what if I/my sona was an android created by the Americans during the end of ww2 but wasn’t activated during the 70s in the middle of the cold war between America and USSR.

x America was working on a a big top secret that only England knew about to basically create the perfect robots to air drop into the USSR in case there was something going on and they needed to basically blow up the nation before the USSR blew them up. Or simply to have them be spies they send over that could automatically report back to them.

x Alfred, one of the lead sophomore scientist of the project R.A.B (Radioed Automatic Bombers) was in charge of programming and designing the human covers for each robot. Against the orders he was given Alfred too the creative freedom of tweaking each bot into having it’s own made up personality and back stories. He believed that if this robots were going to pretend to be human then they needed to fit the bill. He was stumped on what to do for one of the bots so he used inspo of the female black mathematicians he met at NASA that past summer and created M.E.L (Multipurpose Electronic Locator)

x Luckily for Alfred most of the bots were going to stay in the states to catch any Russian spies that happen to slip in. So creating M.E.L wasn’t that big of an issues considering who he based her after. Alfred had the idea of keeping two of the bots to himself for assistance anyway.

x But was put on a halt when a couple of KGB manage to break into Alfred’s unit and destroyed some of the robots and stole most of the documentation. M.E.L wasn’t completely finished like the other bots and she was going to end up like the rest until one of the spies said they should take one and send it back home to be studied so the Russian would have a lead in whatever the American's were doing. And that became the fate of M.E.L

x When M.E.L arrived in Russia (imma flip back and forth between Rus and Ussr bare with me) the scientist try to take her apart for the information but then its noted in a stolen document that Alfred in coded all his secrets into a trust data base. In order for them to get anything they would have to turn her on and "befriend" her. Only then if they ask her something top secret would she automatically give them what they wanted.

x At first they weren't going to put up with it and destroy her but the junior lead scientists Ivan saw it as a challenge and told them he would deal with her.  And in due time Ivan puts M.E.L back together, puts her human covering on and turns her on and M.E.L boots up, what they forgot to look for was to see if she spoke computer or human. So when M.E.L powered on she only responded in English and it seemed that she had a mind of her own instead of being programed to do as she was told. Ivan had more work on his hands than he was expecting. 

x Ivan had to rewire her so that she understood and spoke back in Russian. When he was successful that's when things got tricky. M.E.L didn’t see the world in 1s and 0s she saw the world as if she was a real human who happen to take a nap in the wrong place at the wrong time. Ivan being the blunt person he is constantly reminded her that was false and that just made things harder.

x Ivan wasn't dealing with an robot, he was dealing with an android that thought it was human. M.E.L wanted to go home, she wanted to see her "family" but she was stuck in Russia. So Ivan lied to her and said the American left her there and that he was a simple scientist who wouldn’t mind helping her get back home as long as she followed his rules.

x M.E.L didn't like the sound of this but she had no choice but to give in and work with Ivan to get back home. And thus Ivan's rules were simple: 1) No going outside without him 2) She wasn't allowed to wonder each and anywhere in his house 3) if she didn't mind, having something to eat ready by the time he got home and 4) no asking him questions about what he did at work.

x At first M.E.L hated it, and she broke the second rule very offend when he wasn't around. So much in fact Ivan would turn her off before he left the house and have a timer to turn her back on an hour and a half before he was suppose to be home. M.E.L would ask him questions about the difference in American teach and Russian teach and Ivan had to turn her off and reprogram her to be unable to ask those questions. It was a lot of fucking work but eventually they came to an understanding and found an easy way of life to the point Ivan was happy to come home to company.

x But then Ivan started getting to comfortable and failed to report in sometimes. He started seeing M.E.L less of a robot and more of an actual person. The only thing that made it noticable M.E.L wasn’t human was the barcode on the back of her neck and the few times she would glitch out and fall to the ground. Alfred did an amazing job putting her together and if someday Ivan met the man he would taken him in secret.

x That's when things start to take a turn, Ivan isn't reporting as much information about M.E.L and it's been six months. The government starts to think Ivan is actually an American based spy trying to hide the secrets so they start investigating him and spying on him. Ivan isn't dumb and he knows they are and he is trying to cover his footsteps as best as possible.

x This even happens when Ivan is sent on a month mission to Ukraine to overlook the construction and stability of the new power planet that’s being built. He powers off M.E.L and very carefully dis mantels her to store her somewhere safe while he is away.

x But a few weeks after he returns from Ukraine he slips up one night while drinking and he kisses Mel and confesses he might actually be in love with her. And the spies catches that and the next morning Ivan's house is raided, lucky for Mel, Ivan had a feeling something was going to happen and relocated them to the other side of the house near the back where in case of anything they could escape.

x It's honestly a fight for their lives and Mel gets hurt and so does Ivan but they make it out and have to figure out how to get out of Russia and get into Ukraine then down into Poland and over into Eastern Germany. They can’t take public transport like a plane while still in soviet areas because they would be easily captured. Ivan was now an enemy of his country. It takes a year of having to hide, lie, steal and cheat to get all the way to Eastern Germany. But when they make it Ivan can no longer walk and Mel pushes him around in a wheelchair. They make it to safety and Ivan turns himself in to the Americans and Brits that have control over the Western side of Germany. Mel stays with him the whole time when it’s revealed she's an American product.

x Of course wind word catches wind and the American government is contacted and Ivan and Mel are taken back to the states where Alfred finally gets to meet his creation after two years of thinking only of his bots (Matt) survived. He tells her she’s even more human than he ever imagine her to turn out. That’s when it finally dons on Mel that Ivan wasn’t lying she really wasn’t human.  Alfred reinsures her that as long as she's willing to help her country he can push some documents to have her a real identity made. Mel accepts as long as she can stay with Ivan.

x But even that was tricky bc now the government is holding Ivan under wraps from both the public and the USSR for questioning. Ivan is really good at giving very little and taking a lot. He told them a few hints of information but not enough to truly do any damage. Eventually the Americans allows him to live in the public but he is under watch. Ivan doesn’t care as long as he can live an honest life with Mel. 

x Come to find out Alfred knew all about Ivan since he started his job, Ivan was the one who was always deflecting the American messages in American air space and Alfred had to change the messages to something stupid to throw them off. Alfred offers Ivan a job at the company and they become friends (even with their constant bickering). 

x In the end Ivan and Mel stay in America for the rest of Ivan's life, even getting married (that was a weird one for Al but he keeps his mouth shut)

x Ivan ends up dying of old age and Mel doesn't wish to live on without him so she goes to Alfred who is also a very old man and ask him to finally turn her off for good. He asks her if she sure and she tells him to make sure where Ivan is buried she is buried right next to him. 

[softjeon]

vampire au yoonkook

— GENRE; fluff, with a hint of nsfw | — PAIRING; Yoongi x Jungkook | — DISCLAIMER; mentioning of blood  | — Wordcount;  | — written with @cassiavioletblue

Jungkook inched forward with the rest of the traffic. He’d been stuck for over twenty minutes, and from what he’d heard on the radio there was a major accident up ahead. He sighed as he leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment. It had been an awfully day and all he wanted was to go home, lay in bed and do absolutely nothing.

It felt like a decade, but in reality it was just about fifteen minutes until the police finally had the traffic under control and redirect them. His stomach was growling, his eyes were burning from how tired he was – but he was finally moving! 

Jungkook locked his car and dragged himself up the stairs with a sigh. He checked the mail, finding nothing but bills and pushed them into his bag before searching for his keys. Jungkook leaned against the cold stone wall as he got them out, fumbling around with the many keys he had until he found the right one and finally pushed it into the lock. “I’m home.”

At home Yoongi was staring at the clock as if that poor thing had any fault in Jungkook not being home yet. But he was hungry and he always got cranky when he was starving. “Finally!” Yoongi was up on his feet in a second, breathing in as the heavenly scent of his boyfriend filled the air. He smelled always delicious but when he was hungry like this the smell alone made him salivate.

Jungkook couldn’t help but giggle by the sound of excitement coming from him and easily wrapped his arms around the shorter man who came running as if he had been gone for days instead of ten hours. His hands slipped under Yoongi’s shirt easily as he kissed his lips that felt just as cold as the rest of his body. 

“What took you so long? I’ve been starving without you!” To warm himself - and maybe also as a little punishment Yoongi returned the favor, slipping his icy cold hands under Jungkook’s jacket to place them on the other’s bare skin.

“I’ve been stuck in traffic, it’s crazy tonight.” Jungkook yawned, giving Yoongi a few more pecks on the cheek. “Why have you been starving? I bagged up enough blood, haven’t I?” He released himself from Yoongi as he got rid of his jacket and made his way towards the bathroom. He really needed a hot bath tonight. “I told you I can’t stay at home all day, just to give it to you fresh and you say you hate all the nasty smells in my office since they are distracting you from your meal so…you have to wait, babe.”

Yoongi was behind him in a second, quicker than any human could. 

“If you bagged me blood then where is it sweetheart? You are definitely not taking a bath now while your boyfriend is starving to death in front of you!” His teeth were showing already, a sign that his body did his best to get him fed.

Jungkook furrowed his brows and walked past him again towards the kitchen to see for himself. He always stored it in the fridge, but it seemed like had forgotten it. “Oh,” Jungkook chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “So, you haven’t been eating for more than ten hours?” He asked although he knew the answer already.

“Yes, that’s what I’ve been telling you!” Yoongi hugged Jungkook from behind and let his fangs graze the other’s skin. His shuddering breath ghosted hot over Jungkook’s neck - probably the only warm part of him, the rest of the vampire’s body felt colder and colder the longer he went without food.

“I’m so sorry baby,” Jungkook pouted cutely, batting his eyelashes at his boyfriend as he leaned onto him, baring his neck for him. “Don’t be mad at me. I must have forgotten as I’ve gotten up so early.” He reached behind him, before turning in Yoongi’s hold. “Then let’s get you something, shall we?” He kissed the tip of Yoongi’s nose, before opening the fridge again taking out a little juice box for himself before leading the vampire towards the living room. 

“Where do you want it from?” Jungkook asked, as he unpacked the sweet juice. If Yoongi was hungry, he definitely needed some sugar right after to not feel dizzy from the loss of it.

Yoongi was about to crawl on Jungkook’s lap to drink right from his throat when he hesitated. HIs boyfriends throat was so delicate and a wrong bite could literally mean the end of him. He was too hungry, too greedy to be able to control himself perfectly. He didn’t want to take the risk of hurting the one he loved. SO he decided on another source. With a sly grin he popped the button of Jungkook’s jeans open. “Strip, my dear.” Jungkook had very strong thighs and he would get enough blood from the artery at the inside of it while still feeling a little more reassured because he couldn’t accidentally snap the boy’s neck there or damage his windpipe or vocal cords. 

He’d never forgive himself if he ruined the other’s angelic voice. 

The younger cocked up an eyebrow at his boyfriend, who was placing himself on his knees before him. He gulped heavily, loving the sight too much to not let it affect him. Therefore, he nodded and did as Yoongi said, throwing his jeans somewhere else before opening up his legs perfectly for his vampire boyfriend to find where he wanted to bite. When Yoongi moved closer, Jungkook’s hand immediately found its way into his hair. 

Yoongi nosed along the other’s warm, delicate skin where he could feel the blood pulsate through Jungkook’s veins. He inhaled deeply, savouring the delicious scent of his future meal. He was licking his lips at the thought of the warm, savoury blood hitting his tongue, dripping down his dry throat and warming him from the inside out. He groaned with delight. “You’re the sweetest, most luscious human I’ve ever known…” He murmured. Jungkook had learned to take this kind of strange compliments with a smile that came over the vampire’s lips whenever he was too hungry to care for social rules. The younger felt just a little pinch, a tiny prick of pain at the inside of his thigh before Yoongi’s venom did its job and numbed the flesh until nothing but a pleasant buzz was left behind. 

Jungkook let out a moan as he leaned his head back; the juice box was long forgotten when Yoongi’s was taking from him, the sweet lustful poison entering his body. Usually he was good at withstanding it by now, but not tonight. Not with how hungry Yoongi was, moaning at his sweet taste. Jungkook’s breath hitched. He had a feeling that this would end differently than he had intended it to. 

Jungkook’s taste changed a little when the arousal entered his bloodstream and Yoongi smiled against his boyfriend’s plump flesh. First he would take care of his own hunger - and then he could satisfy Jungkook’s.

[excindrela]

12 Days of Demon Ayno- Day 4

Supernatural AU

Pairing: demon! Ayno (Noh YoonHo) VAV x Female Reader

Genre: Fluff 

Warnings: Implied sex

Word Count: 1739

AN: Welcome back to the 12 Days of Demon Ayno! It’s Day 4- only 8 more to go! As promised, more smut is coming (hint: Day 6) but since it’s the Holiday Season, this is Fluffy! I love feedback- so if there’s something you like, or something you want to see- tell me!! Thank you to everyone who has continued to read this, and especially to those who have re-blogged! 

Demon Ayno: Summoned, Thanksgiving, 12 Days: Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5  Day 6 | Day 7 | Day 8 | Day 9

On the 4th Day of Christmas: Ayno Gets His 1st Christmas Tree

Just like the song said, the weather outside was frightful- and had been for a couple days, but inside your apartment it was actually pretty delightful. Ambiance and heat were being provided by the electric fireplace, and you were stretched out on the couch across from your inhuman boyfriend. You were focused on your laptop, trying to get some work done before your office closed for the holidays, and Ayno was watching the “Christmas in Rockefeller Center” special on TV.

You would occasionally glance up at now skinny Al Roker (you liked him better fat) or respond to Ayno’s comments or questions. (Why do those girls have such long legs? How do they do that? I think it’s a requirement- they’re the Rockettes, they practice those kicks a lot. Are those the boys that sing and dance on the blonde lady’s show? Oh, yeah- I think so? They’re from Korea…BT something? Ellen loves them. Why is this lady surprised? She isn’t – she’s just had too much plastic surgery.) Finally, the big moment came, and they lit the tree at 30 Rock. You glanced up and smiled at Ayno’s “Awww” of awe- he was really loving all the Christmas lights.

“It’s pretty, huh?” you asked.

Ayno nodded profusely, and then hesitantly asked, “Could we get a tree and put lights on it?”

You smiled, “Yes! Of course!” You paused “...I was going to say we could go after work, but I have meetings and I’ll be late the next couple of days.”  

He looked disappointed, and then brightened. “If you will allow me…This is my first Christmas tree- I would like to pick it out and decorate it. You don’t need to help- I will choose the tree and make it perfect.” He said excitedly.

Your Spidey sense tingled. You weren’t sure you should let Ayno do this without guidance, but he wanted so much to prove he was capable.

“Ok. If you buy from the Boy Scouts tree lot on 4th & Grand, they’ll deliver it for you.”

“I promise I will choose well and make it beautiful!” he declared.

Of that you had little doubt…it was the process that concerned you.

When you rolled in just after 6:15 the next evening you expected to see a tree in your living room and Ayno decorating it. But there was no tree, and Ayno was cooking dinner. “No tree??” you asked

“It is being delivered after six. I am waiting.” Ayno said taking the chicken parmigiana out of the oven. 

You changed your clothes into something comfortable and went down to the building’s basement to retrieve the two boxes of Christmas decorations from storage while Ayno made noodles & poured you wine.  

You had no sooner returned to the apartment and there was a knock on the door and what appeared to be an entire troop of Boy Scouts standing there.

“We have a tree delivery for…I-Know?” the leader asked hesitantly.

“A-Know”, you supplied.

“That is me!” Ayno said as he went sprinting for the door.

“Sign here”, the boy said. “Where do you want it?”

Ayno pointed to the living room and then stood aside.

You watched as the top of the tree came through the door... and then just kept coming…and coming…and coming. They marched into the living room, stood it in the spot Ayno pointed to, and then cut the twine holding it tight and it exploded out into all its bushy gloriousness.

It was huge. It was the Christmas tree that ate your living room.

You tapped one of the Boy Scouts on the shoulder “What is that??”

“It’s your Christmas tree ma’am”

“Yes I know that, but what kind of tree is that??”

“It’s a Grand Fir ma’am… Abies Grandis? It’s a soft wood conifer.”

“Uh-huh... how tall is that tree?”

“Oh that one is only 12 feet. Grand Firs can reach the height of almost 300 feet.”

“Ok. Wow. Here- thanks kid.” You said if you handed him a $20 bill.

Ayno clapped with joy. “Look! It is just like the one on TV!!” 

Well it certainly looked as big as the one on TV. You weren’t sure exactly what Ayno had in mind, but you had a feeling it was about to get interesting. You grabbed your dinner from the kitchen and made yourself comfortable on the couch to watch the show.

Ayno immediately began digging through the boxes. He finally found a string of colored lights stuffed into the bottom of the second box, but it was a giant tangled mess. He happily sat down cross-legged on the floor and began un-tangling it while singing a little song to himself.

Once the lights were untangled, he stood before the tree holding them trying to decide exactly how to make this work. He walked around the tree looking at it from all sides and stuck his head into it between the branches. Finally, he turned to you with a quizzical look on his face. “How do they stay on?” He asked confused.

“How do the lights stay lit or how do they stay on the tree?” you clarified.

Ayno shot you a droll look. “I understand electricity. How do they stay where you put them on the tree??”

You shrugged “You have to kind-of wind them around and through the branches?”

This seemed to make sense to him, and he began- right in the center front. He sort-of wound them around the front section of the tree and got about 4 feet up when he suddenly ran out of lights. Looking a bit confused he went back over to the boxes and rummaged around looking for more lights, before sighing in frustration as he came up empty. “There are no more lights”.

“No… I think I only have the one string”.

“But there is more tree.”

“Yeah…I don’t think I’ve ever bought a tree bigger than 4ft. I had no idea you were going to buy a 12ft tree.”

He looked defeated. He said down next to you sighing heavily “I think I have failed in this task.” he said sadly.

“I don’t think so.”

He looked at you questioningly. “You want to try to blend in and be perceived as human right? Well, failing at things is part of being human -but so is resilience and finding solutions to problems. I don’t think you have failed- I think you have encountered a setback. The tree itself is lovely and it smells amazing! I think you chose well. ... and I am confident that you will figure out how to fix this- without my help…but If you want it, I’m here.” He nodded, still feeling bad.

You had come to realize that feeling like he was competent at existing in the human world was important to Ayno. He wanted so much to fit in so that you could tell people he was your boyfriend and not worry about him being odd or embarrassing. So, although the solution to this problem was simple, for the sake of his self-esteem, you wanted Ayno to get to it on his own.

You climbed over into his lap and straddled him, winding your arms around his back, your hands into his hair as you brought your mouth to his. You kissed him deeply, feeling him melt into you. You kissed along his jaw and down his neck, listening to him sigh as his hands gently stroked your back. “Let’s go to bed Ayno”, you whispered looking into his glowing eyes. “It is still rather early” he reminded you. You smiled, “I didn’t say anything about going to sleep.” He smiled back and carried you off to the bedroom, leaving his frustration behind, just as you hoped.

*           *           *

Thanks to co-workers who were incapable of reading their e-mails and insisted on asking the same stupid questions over and over, you didn’t get home from work until almost seven. 

When you opened the door to the apartment it was pitch black – the only thing visible were Ayno’s eyes because they glowed in the dark. It still freaked you out. You made to flip on the lights, but he caught your hand. “No, no lights! I will take you to the bedroom so you can change.”

You were at least allowed to turn on the bedroom light while you changed, but then he led you through the darkened apartment to the living room. You had no idea what he was up to, but you were glad for his un-natural ability to see in the dark like a cat. He came to a stop and turned you, and then said, “Cover your eyes!”

“Ayno- what are you doing??”

“I have made a surprise! No peeking!”

“Ok, ok! They’re covered.” You could not see that he came over and checked to see that they were.

You could hear him rustling around, and then “Ok. You may look now.”

A breathy gasp escaped your lips as you uncovered your eyes. Ayno had solved his problem: he had purchased more lights- and his 12-foot tree now sparkled in hundreds of multicolor lights of every shape and size, some of them gently fading on and off making it twinkle. He’d bought silver tinsel “icicles” too, and lovingly draped them individually on the branches creating a beautiful waterfall effect.

“Oh Ayno- It’s beautiful!!” you gushed.  

He flashed his giant smile, and then stood up on his tip-toes to flick the switch that turned on the star on top. The topper was a huge 3D cut star with a disco ball that hung in the middle and 4 tiny LEDs that shone on it. The ball slowly turned, casting the sequin like shadows around the room that they are known for.

“Do you like it?” he asked.

“It’s gorgeous, Ayno. This is, without a doubt, the most beautiful tree I have ever had”, you said sincerely as you pulled his face down to kiss him.

“Succeed”, he said softly.

Then, he reached into his pocket for the sound system remote and pushed “play” as he led you to the middle of the room. As the music began, he pulled you into his arms and began to sway.

…Yeah, we've time to spare without a care We don't need nothin' new. Some mistletoe, a lover's glow And a table dressed for two. Oh, I'd rather have Christmas with you. Yes, I'd rather have Christmas with you…

[thelastspeecher]

Hi! I love ALL YOUR AUs and the massive musically-named Guck fam. Not sure if there's any particular AUs you want to write so maybe dealer's choice for any of the following? 9 - Chocolate, 11 - Heartbeat (Babies! or Vampires?), 16 - Daybreak, 20 - Wishing, 32 - Underneath.

16. Daybreak

Aw, thank you!  I asked my roommate if they had any thoughts about what AU to choose, and they listed a couple.  When they mentioned the variation of the MerGucket AU called French Fish Girl, I immediately had an idea for the daybreak prompt.  So that’s what I went with.  Hopefully you like it!

For context, this takes place after the first scene in this ficlet and immediately before this ficlet.  Also, the song Angie sings is “Au clair de la lune”, which was the first result when I googled “traditional French songs”.  I liked the lyrics, so I went with it.

Prompt List

——————————————————————————————

              Stan sat on the edge of his bed,staring numbly into the dark of the shelter he and Ford had cobbled together, tryingdesperately to ignore Ford’s snoring. After a few minutes, he got up with a sigh.

              Might as well take a walk onthe beach or something.  That might tireme out enough to fall back asleep. Not bothering to put on his shirt, Stan exited the shelter and headedfor the beach.  He’d been dealing withsleep problems for the last couple days; waking up in the middle of the nightand struggling to fall back asleep.  Probably‘cause I feel guilty over giving Angie the boot.  Sadness swelled inside him as he rememberedAngie’s expression when he told her not to come back.  Stan kicked at a rock, frustrated.

              “Au clair de la lune.”  Stan froze. He looked up.  Sitting on the beach,her legs pulled against her chest, waves lapping at her feet, was Angie.  “On n'y voit qu'un peu.”  She was singing something Stan had neverheard before.  Every syllable hit Stan’sears with the clarity and beauty of water from a mountain stream.  “On chercha la plume-”

              “Angie,” Stan croaked.  Angie looked over.  Her blue eyes shone faintly in the darkness,one of the many animalistic traits she kept even in her legged form.

              “Stan!”  Angie jumped to her feet and rushed tohim.  Stan embraced her in a tight hug.  “I was wondering if I’d ever get through toyou,” she whispered into his chest.

              “Get through to me?” Stanasked.  Angie broke off the hug.

              “Yes.  This is my third night of trying to summonyou.”

              “Summon me?”  Stan frowned at her.  “Are you the reason I keep waking up atnight?”  Angie nodded.  “Uh, two questions.  How and why?”

              “Sirens can summon humans withsong,” Angie said.  “I’m not as good at itas my older sister, but I didn’t expect I’d have as much trouble as I did withyou.”  She grinned crookedly.  “I mean, I’ve been sitting on the beachsinging at you for three nights now.  Itwould take a will of steel to resist a siren’s call for that long.”

              “Or just a dumbass with a thickhead,” Stan mumbled, thinking back to each time he’d awoken in the night andbeen struck with the urge to go to the beach, only to ignore it.  Angie stroked his cheek.  “That’s the how.  Why were you trying to summon me?  I told you, I can’t leave Ford.”

              “I know.  Come.” Angie took Stan’s hand and led him to where she had been sitting when hefirst arrived.  She settled herself ontothe sand.  Stan sat down as well.

              “Angie, no matter how much youtry to sweet talk me into becoming a merman, it’s not gonna work.  All you’re doing is making this harder onboth of us,” Stan said quietly.  Angielooked straight ahead at the horizon, where the sun was beginning to rise.  Everything was cast in the warm, blue lightof dawn.

              “I don’t get to see sunriseoften,” she said softly.

              “Neither do most humans.  Usually, people sleep through it.”

              “Well, merfolk aren’t strictly diurnalor nocturnal; we wake up when we feel like it and sleep when we’re tired.  But fishermen set off at dawn, so it’s notwise to go on land then.”  Angiecontinued to stare ahead.  Stan watchedher silently.  Feeble morning rays hit herface, illuminating the pink and yellow freckles scattered across her cheeks.  Her caramel-colored hair was completely dry.  Stan’s stomach churned.

              How long has she been on land,waiting for me?  He looked at therising sun.  I hate this.  I hate being stuck between her and Ford.  Why didn’t Ford listen to me about Bill?  If he had, none of this would havehappened.  We wouldn’t be stuck on adeserted island, I wouldn’t be turning down a gorgeous mermaid, and Angiewouldn’t hate Ford’s guts.  Angiepulled her legs to her chest and rested her chin on her knees.

              “I didn’t know any songs inEnglish, so I’ve been singing French songs to try to get to you come to me,” Angiesaid softly.  “You came during the lastverse of the last one I knew.”

              “Yeah, uh, why do you knowFrench?” Stan asked.  Angiegrimaced.  “I’m not gonna like the answer,am I?”

              “I studied abroad a while ago, inthe Mediterranean.  Specifically, thepart that lies within French territory.”

              “What- what were you studying?”Stan asked.  Angie closed her eyes.

              “I’ve told you before thatmerfolk and humans don’t have a very good history.”

              “If by that you mean that merfolksometimes eat humans, yeah, you have told me that,” Stan said.  Angie was silent.  Stan scooted away from her.  “You- you’ve eaten humans?” hewhispered.

              “No!  No. But I have…”  Angie played withher hair.  “I have killed them.”

              “Sweet Moses.”

              “That’s what I studied abroadfor.  I wanted to learn other methodsthat merfolk have for sinking ships.  Butthe merfolk off the French coast speak…” Angie muttered something under her breath.  “I don’t know how to say it in French, letalone English.  But it’s a language that’ssort of a mixture of French and Mermish. They’d use that language, they’d use Mermish, they’d use French, and theywouldn’t bother translating things for me.” Angie rolled her eyes.  “Frenchmerfolk are notoriously snooty.”

              “French humans have thatreputation, too.”  Stan paused.  “So you’re a murderer, huh?”

              “To be fair, I’ve never sunkships as recreation,” Angie said.  “Onlyas part of my job to protect the colony. Merfolk don’t really go out of their way to sink ship after ship aftership.  It draws unwanted attention to whereour colonies are.  That’s why the Bermudacolony had to be abandoned.”

              “Hang on, you mean the BermudaTriangle is real?” Stan asked.  Angieshook her head.

              “Not anymore.”  Angie sighed. She looked at Stan.  “I’m tellingyou this because, if you become mer, you’ll have to come to grips with it.  You’d be abandoning your species for someone whohas killed humans before.”

              “I mean, some humans kindadeserve it,” Stan mumbled.  Angie manageda small smile.  “But I keep telling you,I can’t become mer.  It would mean leavingFord behind.  I can’t do that.”

              “It doesn’t need to mean leavingyour brother,” Angie said quietly.

              “I thought your colony didn’twant him, since he tried to kill you.”

              “My colony doesn’t want him,no.  But you do.  I spoke to some people, looked through theancient laws.  There’s a loophole thatFord could use to join the colony.”

              “Really?  What is it?”

              “It- it involves him beingsponsored.  But it won’t work if you holdoff on becoming mer.”

              “What do you mean?” Stan asked.  The sky was growing brighter now, the sun’srays stronger and less timid.

              “In order to start the series ofevents necessary for Ford to use the loophole and become mer, you’d need tobecome mer first.”  Angie met Stan’seyes.  “You’d have to leave Ford.  Right now.”

              “Wh- I can’t say goodbye?”

              “He can’t know about this planyet.  Not until we set everything up.”

              “This sounds pretty sketchy,”Stan said.  Angie nodded.

              “I know it does.  And I know that you don’t have any reason totrust me, but-”

              “Hey.”  Stan put his hand on her shoulder.  “That’s not true.  I trust you, Angie.”

              “After everything I’ve told you?”she asked.  “The ship sinking and-”

              “I trust you,” Stan repeated.  Angie smiled. “I’ll do it.  I’ll eat the flowerand become mer.  But only because youpromised that you can help Ford become mer, too.”  Angie nodded. “I’ll be right back.”

—– 

              Stan ducked into the shelter and grabbedthe magical flower that had been resting on the stump next to his bed.  It looked as pristine as the day Angie hadgiven it to him.  He glanced at Ford,still fast asleep.

              “I’m sorry, Stanford,” Stan saidquietly.  He rested his hand on Ford’sshoulder.  “You’re gonna figure out thatI left with Angie, but it’s not what it looks like.  I’m not abandoning you.  I’ll be back.”  Ford let out a loud snore.  Stan squeezed his shoulder.  “I promise, I’ll sneak back to keep an eye onyou.  I won’t let your terrible survivalskills keep you from living long enough to become mer.”  Stan took a breath.  “Goodbye.”

              Stan trudged through the sand towhere Angie stood, still watching the sun. Daybreak was almost over.  Once hewas by her side, Angie looked at him with a smile.

              “Are you ready?” she asked.  Stan nodded.

              “Left my pants behind andeverything.”

              “Good.  You won’t need them.”

              “So, uh, what- what do I do?”Stan asked.

              “Eat the flower.”  Angie watched Stan pop the flower into hismouth, chew, and swallow.  It had analmost fruity taste, fizzing as it touched his tongue.

              “What now?”

              “We wait,” Angie said softly.  She leaned against him, resting her head onhis shoulder.  They watched the sun climbhigher and higher.  Stan’s eyelids grewheavy.  Exhaustion washed over him.  “Any minute now.”  The moment the sun had pulled free from thehorizon, Stan closed his eyes.

              Everything faded to black.