#that table might be making that whole room unusable but it looked cute in that space

[nxs-aliens]

starting to feel good about this

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers VANDEAD CARNIVAL ;; Present from Mukami [PART 2]

ー The scene starts in the kitchen

Yui: Okay...The oven is preheated.

( ...Once the tart crust finished baking, I’ll pour the custard cream inside. )

( Then after putting plenty of Yuma-kun’s homegrown fruits on top, it’ll be ready. )

( I just have to wait for it to finish baking now, so I suppose I could go check up on the others... )

Selection

→ Check up on the nearby duo

Yuma: Ow!!

Yui: A-Are you okay, Yuma-kun!?

Yuma: Aahn? When did I ask for yer concern?

Yui: B-But...Your finger’s bleeding! We have to clean the wound and disinfect it right away...

Yuma: Aah? You’re fussin’ way too much. A lil’ saliva will do the trick just fine, geez. ...Nn...

Yui: ( Will he be okay...? )

Yuma: Oi, Sow...Don’t be starin’ my way. You’re distractin’ me...

Yui: I-I’m sorry...! Um...I just thought there might be something I can help with...

Yuma: There isn’t.

Ruki: Yuma, don’t be so harsh. You haven’t been making much progress this whole time. I’m sure there’s some tasks you can give her.

Yuma: Ugh...That’s not true...

Ruki: Don’t lie. There aren’t enough ingredients for the soup. If you can’t cut these vegetables, I’m putting someone else in charge.

Yuma: Ah, ya can’t! I’ll cut these!

Yui: ( I can tell he’s really motivated... )

( I wonder what he’s making...? )

( Ah...This scent coming from the pot... )

( It’s consommé...! )

Um, Yuma-kun? I’ll help out where I can!

Yuma: Fuck off!! There’s nothin’ for ya to help me with!!

Yui: ...Sorry...

Ruki: Yuma. Ask for help just for today. You’re going to cut these vegetables?

Yuma: ...Yeah, that’s the plan but it’s not really workin’ out as I’d like.

Yui: ( There’s several incisions... )

( I wonder if he’s trying to cut them into a certain shape...? )

Yuma-kun, are you cutting these in shapes?

Yuma: ...Shapes.

Yui: ...?

Yuma: Are you deaf!? I said star shapes!!

Yui: Star...shapes...?

Yuma: What!? Is it that weird I want to cut them into damn stars!?

Yui: N-No, it’s not strange at all. I’m just a little surprised, that’s all...

Yuma: ...We looked at them over at the deli counter when we went shoppin’, remember? Heart and star shapes...

I want to try that as well! Get it now!?

Yui: Y-Yeah.

Ruki: Yuma, stop losing your temper while holding a kitchen knife.

Also, it doesn’t matter if they’re shaped like stars or not, just cut them regularly.

Yuma: I’m strugglin’ ‘cause I can’t do that!

Yui: ( Honestly, it’s kind of a rare sight to see Yuma-kun get so serious about cooking... )

( Also, when I think he’s cutting them into stars, I can’t help but find that kind of cute! )

Ruki: Yuma. You’re being laughed at.

Yui: ...!!

Yuma: Aah!? What’s so damn funny, huh!?

Yui: I-It isn’t! I just thought everyone would be happy if they were star-shaped!

( I’m sure chaos will break loose if I call him cute... )

Yuma: Hah! That’s exactly why I’m tryin’ to cut these carrots into stars!

Ruki: It won’t make a difference in taste though.

Yuma: Ya eat with yer eyes too, right!?

Ruki: But there’s no point if it gets in the way of actually completing the dish, right?

Yui: W-Wait! I know a good hack!

( I feel as if they’ll start a discussion if I leave these two be now... )

Yuma: Oh...! For real!?

Yui: Yeah!

Um...It’d be a piece of cake if you have cookie cutters.

Yuma: Ahー Now that ya mention it, I’m pretty sure we have some of those layin’ ‘round?

Yui: Really?

( I’m honestly a little surprised we’ll easily find some cookie cutters in this house’s kitchen... )

Yuma: Let’s just say Azusa likes to use those for his own pleasure.

Yui: ( ...What on earth is he doing with them...? )

Yuma: Whatcha gettin’ all down for? Don’t worry. They’re still unused.

Yui: That’s not the problem!

*Rustle*

Yuma: Here, this is what you mean, right?

Yui: Yeah! It should be easy with these!

You cut the carrots into slices first and then use the cookie cutter to cut out the shape.

Yuma: Heehー I’m pretty sure I can pull that off on my own. No need to help me.

Yui: Eh? ...I-I’ll help out as well!

Yuma: Well, Ruki’s been on my case as well, so I guess I’ll leave those veggies up to ya.

Yui: Yeah, thanks. I’ll carefully cut them.

Yuma: ‘Course! These are the veggies I poured my heart and soul into after all!

*Chop chop chop*

Ruki: You’re finally providing the ingredients, it seems. I’m sure I’ll be able to create a nice-tasting dish with these.

Yui: These vegetables make a big difference after all, don’t they?

Ruki: Exactly.

*Chop chop chop*

Yui: ( ーー There we go. I guess we finished chopping everything up for the soup? )

Ruki-kun, can I put them inside?

Ruki: Yeah, I’ll leave that up to you. Yuma, how are those star-shaped carrots looking?

Yuma: Perfect! It’d be borin’ to just put them in the soup, so I made enough to sprinkle on top of the salad as well!

Ruki: ...Do you like them?

Yuma: Yeah! It’s kind of fun to pop them out one after the other! I wonder if there’s anythin’ else I can cut with these?

Yui: Then let’s make cookies next time! I’m sure you’ll be able to put those to great use!

Yuma: Why ‘later’? We still have time to make some, no? 

Ruki: ...Right. It should be fun to have one additional dish.

Yui: Then, for the recipe, it’s in this book so...

Yuma: Oh! I’ll get to it then!

Ruki: Seems like Yuma really took a liking to cutting out shapes. Well, I guess we can let him have his fun.

Yui: Fufu, right...!

Ruki: Well then, shall we taste the soup? ...I’m curious.

Yui: ( Yuma-kun is having fun, but Ruki-kun seems to be enjoying himself as well. )

Ruki: ...

...

...What? If you have the time to stand there watching me, then start moving those hands already. Get on with your own task.

Yui: Y-Yeah...Right. Sorry. However...

Ruki: ...?

Yui: U-Um, I’m curious about the taste of the soup as well...So I was wondering if you’d let me have a little sip?

Ruki: ...Be my guest. However, it’s just average. Something is missing...

We need to think about the balance with the other dishes as well. I can’t make the taste any richer. Should I add more water...?

Yui: Hm...You’re right. I do think it is plenty delicious already, but...

Ruki: Nobody asked for your opinion, but I suppose I’ll let you think about it if you want to.

Yui: ( Hm, let’s see...It might be good to draw out the flavor of the vegetables a little more. )

Ruki: Should we add more acidity from the tomatoes?

Yui: Ah, wait. In that case, why don’t we try adding a bit of lemon juice?

Ruki: Lemon juice...? It would work the same in terms of adding acidity, I suppose...

Yui: They’re fresh vegetables, so I feel like it’s adding a lot of sweetness.

Ruki: ...I see. I suppose I’ll try adding some then.

Yui: Yeah! What do you think...?

Ruki: Not bad. Seems like it was a clever suggestion coming from someone like you. Want to try it?

Yui: Can I? Thank you!

...Yeah, it’s delicious!

Ruki: Right? I’m looking forward to serving this to the others as well.

Yui: ( Ruki-kun looks happy. I hope everyone else will like it too... )

Ruki: I suppose I should lower the heat so it doesn’t overcook. Okay, next up’sーー 

Yuma: Say, it slipped my mind for a sec, but...

But what are we doin’ with this turkey?

Ruki: Aah, that one. I bought it because it’s a staple of any Christmas feast, however...

Yui: ( They’re both looking at... )

Me!?

Ruki: You’re the one who brought it up, so I assume you know how to prepare it?

Yui: Ah, yeah. For the most part...

Yuma: ‘Kay. We’ll leave this bad boy up to ya then.

I’ll get back to my cookies.

Ruki: Good idea. It’d be a waste of time for all three of us to work on the same dish. You should do it.

Yui: ( ... )

( I feel as if this was kind of pushed on me... )

*TIMESKIP*

Ruki: ーー We’re pretty much done. How’s your chicken looking?

Yui: Yeah, I think it’ll be okay...Yuma-kun, how’s the cooking time?

Yuma: It’s lookin’ hella good. Smells nice from the herbs, no?

Ruki: ...It definitely triggers the appetite. Okay, let’s get to plating them.

Yui: ( Thank god. I was honestly a little worried when they left it up to me. )

I’ll put out the plates then!

Ruki: Yeah, thank you.

Also, I’d like to carry all finished dishes to the dining room if they’re done with the decorations over there.

Yuma: Speak of the devil.

ー Kou and Azusa enter the kitchen

Kou: We’ve come to check up on you guys~ How are things looking on your end? ...Wait.

Waah! It smells great here! Seems like you guys safely got everything ready in time as well~

Yui: Yeah, we just need to put everything on the plates and carry them to the dining room. How are the decorations looking?

Azusa: Just fine...Kou said that we should...make the final touches together...

Ruki: The final touches...? I’m not sure what you’re talking about, but I suppose we should get all the food ready first.

Yui: Yeah!

→ Go to the dining room

ー The scene shifts to the dining room

Kou: Ah, M-neko-chan! Did you come to help us out? I’m so glad~!

Yui: Yeah! I came here hoping there was still something I could help out with but...It seems like you’re almost ready with the preparations.

Kou: Pretty much! We’d get scolded by Ruki-kun if we slack off after all!

Yui: Fufu, good point. You have to finish before they do, or the food will go cold after all.

The table looks completely different from usual as well. Just a few hours left till we can get this Christmas party started!

Azusa: Say, Eve? Am I doing it right? I’m lining up the stuff we bought today. Tell me if I made a mistake, okay...?

Yui: Don’t worry! You didn’t make any mistakes.

( The Christmas-colored table mats are so cute! )

( The napkins placed at every seat are lovely as well. And above all... )

( Seeing those candles kind of takes me back to the Mass at Church. )

Azusa: Is something the matter? 

Yui: Ah, no. I’m just looking forward to spending Christmas in such a wonderfully decorated room.

Azusa: I’m glad you like it...

*Cling*

Azusa: ...Fufu, this is the last one. The table has been all set...

Yui: All of the silverware has been polished to perfection. Did you do this too?

Azusa: Yeah. It’s especially important to sharpen the knives, or they won’t cut as well, right?

Yui: Sounds like something you would think of.

Kou: Hm. Props to you for getting all of M-neko-chan’s praise, Azusa-kun.

Yui: ...Kou-kun? Is something wrong?

Kou: Nn~ I’m just a little jealous of Azusa-kun.

Yui: Eh? J-Jealous?

Kou: Fufu, just a little bit? You’re only giving him compliments after all.

Yui: You did an amazing job too. You put together the Christmas tree, right?

Kou: Yeah, exactly~ Fufu, it really does feel nice to get praised by you!

That being said, I’m still in the middle of decorating it though.

Azusa: Is that so? In that case, I’ll help out. I’m done with my work after all.

Yui: Decorating the tree, right? I’ll lend a hand too!

Kou: Okay! Let’s decorate it all together then.

Azusa: The tree...It looks prickly...

Yui: Fufu, it really does!

Azusa-kun, you hang ornaments on the branches like this.

Azusa: I wouldn’t mind if the tree decorated me with its needles.

Kou: Pfft! Azusa-kun...Geez! We obviously can’t let that happen.

Yui: E-Exactly, Azusa-kun!

Azusa: ...Is that so? That’s a little disappointing. I’m sure that having my whole body stabbed by those needles is a pain I can only experience today...

Kou: I don’t mean to judge you for your personal preferences, but today you can’t do that.

Azusa: I couldn’t have my knife...And I’m not allowed to stab myself with the tree either...Is Christmas really supposed to be fun?

*Rustle*

Yui: Azusa-kun, I’m sure you’ll enjoy it! Christmas has to be a precious time you spend with family after all...

Azusa: Eve...

Yui: ( Ah, I grabbed his hand in the spur of the moment, but... )

I’m sorry. Um...I just want you to understand. I’m sure it’ll be fun, so let’s try and forget about pain for today?

Azusa: ...Sure. If you insist...

Kou: Haah, thank god. Well then, let’s get back on track and decorate the tree!

*TIMESKIP*

Azusa: Hey, look. This soft, fluffy padding. If you put it underneath your mouth, it looks like a white beard.

Yui: Fufu, you’re right. You look like Santa Claus right now.

Azusa: Santa...Claus?

Yui: Yeah. Santa Claus comes to visit on his sleigh every year on Christmas day, you see.

Then he gives presents to all good children.

Azusa: Heeh...

I’ve never met him but...I see...Only to good children, huh...?

Kou: Pretty sure nobody in this household qualifies~ (1)

Well, getting our hands on what we want with brute force fits us much better anyway, don’t you think so, M-neko-chan~?

Yui: ( Um... )

Azusa: Kou is right...

Yui: Y-You too, Azusa-kun...!?

Azusa: Fufu...

Yui: ( I feel as if I shouldn’t linger on this topic for too long... )

U-Um...Kou-kun? Could you put this on the tree for me?

Azusa-kun, you should continue decorating as well, okay...?

Kou: Fufu, right! Right now we have to stick to the Christmas mood!

Azusa: What should I do with this cotton padding then?

Yui: Ah, right. It’s something meant to mimic snow, so you have to tear it up and sprinkle it across the branches.

Azusa: Okay, gotcha.

Kou: Can I just put these bells and snowman ornaments wherever I want?

Yui: Yeah, they don’t have a set place or anything. I’ll leave it up to your personal taste.

( I should get to decorating as well. )

*TIMESKIP*

Yui: ( ...Every year, I would always decorate the tree by myself instead of Father since he was so busy. )

( However, this year... )

...

Kou: What’s wrong, M-neko-chan? Your hands have stopped moving?

Azusa: Is something bothering you?

Yui: ( I’m decorating with everyone. Fufu, I’m kind of happy. )

No, it’s nothing. Let’s put on the lights once we’re finished with the ornaments!

Kou: Roger! I’m so excited to put the lights on~ They’re the thing I had the most trouble choosing at the store.

Yui: I see.

Kou: We chose them together. Ruki-kun has that cool image so he’s black, no?

Azusa: Yuma is orange...right?

Kou: Exactly! We chose our own favorite color.

And this light pink is you! Fits you perfectly, no?

Yui: Waah! I’m so happy! ...Thank you!

Azusa: Fufu, I’m glad you’re happy.

Yui: Let’s put them on then.

( Covering the whole surface... )

( ... )

( ... )

( Yeah, this should do...! )

Azusa: I finished adding the cotton decorations.

Yui: I’m done over here as well!

Kou: The ornaments are looking perfect as well! In that case, let’s test whether the lights work or not.

Yui: Yeah! Good idea.

Kou: Here we go! Lights on!

*Click*

Yui: Wah...How beautiful. There’s different colors lighting up.

Kou: We made the right choice! I’m looking forward to enjoying these all together!

Azusa: Yeah, it’s really...pretty.

Kou: Right~? I can’t wait to show Ruki-kun and the others!

Yui: ( Huh? But I feel as if something is missing. I wonder what...? )

( We put plenty of ornaments and lights on the tree... )

Kou: Hm...? What’s wrong, M-neko-chan?

Yui: Ah, yeah...I feel as if it’s not quite right yet...

Kou: Could it be this, perhaps?

Yui: Ah! The big star you put on the very top of the tree!

Azusa: ...Once we add that to the tree...It’ll become even more beautiful, right? Let’s put it on, Kou...

Kou: Nu-uh~ This is a special star, so I thought it’d be better to put it on once all five of us have gathered here together.

Azusa: ...I see. Yeah...Good point.

Yui: In that case, let’s go check up on them once we’re done here.

ー Ruki enters the room

*Thud*

Yui: Ah...

Ruki: I’ve come to check up on your process. Are you done with the decorations?

Azusa: Yeah, we just finished. What do you think?

Ruki: ...Yeah, it looks beautiful. The three of you really tried your best.

Kou: Hooray! Nothing quite boosts one’s self-confidence like a compliment from Ruki-kun!

Azusa: Yeah, me too...I’m very happy.

Kou: Say, Azusa-kun, M-neko-chan? Can you both raise your hands for a sec?

Azusa: What...?

Yui: ...?

*Tap*

Yui: Kyah!?

Azusa: Wah! W-What was that...?

Kou: A high five! It’s a way to celebrate a shared success! I’m looking forward to Yuma-kun’s reaction as well~

Azusa: Yeah...I put Yuma through a lot of trouble earlier...So I hope he’ll like it...

Yui: I’m sure he will! I’m excited.

Ruki: There’s no shame in rejoicing, but there’s still some work left. We’ll carry the food here. Lend me a hand.

Yui: Yeah!

( I’m sure the crust should be about done by now as well... )

( I’ll go finish it by adding the custard and fruits! )

*TIMESKIP*

*Thud*

Yui: This should be the final plate of food, right?

Ruki: Yeah. We’ve carried everything here. Yuma, pour our drinks.

Yuma: Already on it.

*Cling*

Yui: ( The candles have been lit and there’s a warm buffet laid out. The room is decorated as well... )

Kou: Haah~ Looking good, don’t you think~? Seeing all these different dishes lined up on the table~

Azusa: Looks delicious...

Yuma: It doesn’t just ‘look’ good. I can promise ya the taste won’t disappoint either. Ya better look forward to it!

Kou: Geez, you’re way too excited, Yuma-kun.

I can’t wait to try this cake loaded with fruit you made either.

Yui: Really? I’m glad to hear that.

Ruki: You two gave it your best shot as well. The elaborate decorations help lighten the mood up as well.

Yuma: Hell yeah. When the room is decorated this way, I immediately get those ‘today’s a special day’ vibes.

Altho it still feels a little weird for us Vampires to celebrate Christmas.

Ruki: Haha, you have a point.

It may be strange for us Vampires, but this day only comes once a year. It shouldn’t hurt to celebrate every once in a while, right?

Kou: I appreciate all the praise, but we’re not quite done yet~

Yuma: Aahn? Whatcha mean?

Azusa: We have to put the biggest star on the very top of the tree.

Ruki: ...? Why did you not put it on yet?

Kou: Eeh~? I mean, this is such a rare occasion, so I wanted all of us to be here and witness its completion.

Yuma: I see. Sounds good? I don’t dislike that way of thinkin’.

Azusa: Well then, Kou. Here. Put it on top.

Yui: ( Azusa-kun is handing the star to Kou-kun... )

Kou: Thank you, Azusa-kun. Well then...Here, M-neko-chan~

Yui: ...Eh?

Kou: None of this would have happened if it wasn’t for you after all.

So I want to leave this up to you!

Yui: No way...Are you sure I can put it on?

Ruki: Don’t sweat the details. If you don’t put that on, we can never get the party started.

Yuma: Oi, Sow. Get on with it.

Azusa: ...Put it on with your very own hands.

Yui: Thank you guys. Well then...

*Rustle*

Kou: Ready? Lights on!

*Click*

Ruki: Hooh...

Yuma: Wow! What’s this? I didn’t know these trees light up!

Azusa: ...I like Christmas.

Yui: ( How pretty. I could gaze at it forever... )

Kou: Well then, we’ve finished decorating so let’s get to our seats and eat now!

Yuma: Yeah! Nothin’ like enjoyin’ a meal surrounded by those shimmerin’ lights!

ー Everyone sits down at the table

Ruki: Oi, Yui. You should sit down as well.

Yuma: Geez, ya slowpoke! Whatcha doin’? Hurry up and get yer ass over here.

Kou: Come on, we’re going to get started without you, M-neko-chan!

Azusa: Eve, hurry...Everyone already took a seat.

Yui: Ah, yeah, wait! I’ll be there in a sec...

*Cling cling*

Everyone: Merry Christmas.

Yuma: ‘Kay! Time to chow down!

Ruki: Thank you for the meal.

Kou: I’m digging in~!

Azusa: ...Let me have a taste...

Yui: Thanks for the meal!

Kou: Mmh~! Yuma-kun’s vegetables never fail to amaze me!

Yuma: I’m the one who grew them, so they’re obviously gonna be delicious!

Azusa: ...Nom, nom.

Ruki: I’m glad you’re all enjoying it.

Kou: Although I’m a little curious about these oddly-shaped vegetables.

Yuma: The taste’s still the same so whatever!!

Ruki: Yuma, don’t shout too loud.

Yuma: Che...Those are the duds. There’s some proper stars in there as well.

Kou: ...These are supposed to be stars!?

Ruki: Right. Yuma shed blood, sweat and tears to make those.

Azusa: ...The fruit tart you made is delicious. The crust is crisp...

Yui: I’m glad to hear that. Yuma-kun is the one who grew the fruits on top as well.

Azusa: Yuma is amazing. I don’t think I could ever grow vegetables...

Ruki: Yuma is great at taking care of things after all. Why don’t you try looking after someone else as well for a change?

Azusa: ...Look after someone else...?

Yui: ( I’m honestly having trouble picturing that... )

Yuma: In that case, why don’t you let him take care of you, Ruki?

Ruki: ...!

...Azusa, forget what I said just now. Understood?

Azusa: Yeah, sure...

Kou: Ahaha! This is so much fun. Hey, M-neko-chan, thank you!

Yui: ...Eh?

Kou: I’m thanking you for teaching us about Christmas.

It’s our first time celebrating such a fun event, so we’re all in high spirits!

Yui: ...I should be the one saying thank you. I thought I would be spending the day alone...so I felt a little down.

However, I’m really happy you all worked together to create such a fun Christmas for me. Thank you, everyone...

Yuma: Hah, we didn’t do this for ya or anythin’. We only went through with it ‘cause it sounded fun.

Yui: I’m still glad regardless. For letting me join your Christmas party.

Yuma: I mean, ya are kind of a bother to us, but did ya really think we’d leave ya out?

Kou: Ah~ Yuma-kun’s flustered~!

Yuma: Haah!? Why would I get flustered!?

Ruki: You’re red all the way to your ears. Why don’t you be honest with yourself?

Yuma: You too, Ruki!?

Ruki: Hmph...My bad. Seems like I’m having a bad case of ‘the slip of the tongue’ today.

Yuma: Che...!

Ruki: Yuma, cheer up. We’re actually spending Christmas as a family.

Azusa: Exactly...

Kou: Me too! Food tastes so much better when you get to enjoy it without being upset!

Yui: ( I didn’t think it would be so fun to spend time with everyone like this. )

( Huh...? I just thought ‘fun’... )

( Right. At some point, the time I spend with the Mukami family must have grown dear to me... )

Kou: What are you grinning for?

Yui: Um...This may sound strange, but I thought it’s fun to spend time with you guys.

Azusa: ...If you’re happy...then so am I.

Ruki: I thought you were an odd human, but you’ve exceeded that point...You are basically being held hostage after all. 

Yui: Right. I know it’s weird but...

Kou: You’re really living up to your name~ Although that’s exactly what makes you cute!

Yuma: Heh...If we ever hold a Christmas party again, ya better help out too. 

No way in hell I’m wastin’ my time makin’ some cake, so I’ll leave my fruits in yer hands.

Also, we need someone to make the cookies.

Yui: Thank you...! I better practice a bunch in preparation for that day!

Ruki: Let’s leave it at that. The food we worked so hard on will get cold.

Kou: Ah, Azusa-kun you’re adding spices again~ You shouldn’t ruin the taste of the food. 

Azusa: ...Just a sprinkle. I want to make this an even more fun experience...

Ruki: Haah...Can’t you guys at least enjoy a meal in silence?

Kou: But this is what suits us best, don’t you think?

Yuma: It’d be kind of creepy if things were all quiet.

Ruki: ...Right. I suppose this is quite tame for a Vampire’s holy night.

Yui: ( I’m truly glad I was able to have such a fun Christmas... )

( I wish I’ll be able to experience this sight once more somedayーー )

ーー THE END ーー

Translation notes

(1) ‘NG’ is a term which has recently picked up in popularity in the Japanese language. It is an abbreviation of the English phrase ‘no good’ and is used to refer to things which are forbidden or don’t qualify.

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← [ Part 1 ]

[wrenhyperfixates]

Perfect

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: After much research and seeking out advice from Tony, Loki asks you on a date. Warnings: dialogue heavy and an adorably awkward Loki A/N: Thank you for requesting @akhansen2800! I hope you enjoy :) 

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

The common room was a mess, thanks to the trickster god. There was paper and books littered all over the floor. Not to mention bits and pieces from the computer he may or may not have smashed against the ground. It really was hardly his fault, though; it was the insipid machine that dared defy him.

“Woah, Reindeer Games,” Tony said, walking in, sidestepping the junk on the ground. “Did a tornado hit or something?”

“Oh, very funny, Stark. If you ask me, it is an improvement over this drab decor you have picked,” Loki quipped, eyes never leaving the page he was reading.

“No, how could you! My heart, it can’t take this,” Tony overdramatically gasped, flopping on top of the papers strewn on the couch. “Goodbye, cruel world.”

“Your theatrics never cease to amaze me,” Loki sighed, finally looking up at the man he’d come to call friend. “And that says a lot, coming from me.”

“You’re right, it’s high praise.” Tony picked up one of the papers he’d crinkled from laying on top of. “What is all this, anyway?”

Just because Loki considered Tony a friend, didn’t mean he necessarily wanted to say what he was doing. He was still a rather closed off person and, in all honesty, preferred to avoid any and all talks about his emotions. Which, of course, brings him right back to why he’s sitting in the middle of this mess, anyway. His emotions, which, despite his best efforts, he did still have.

Loki stood up and stretched his muscles, achy from being hunched over his reading material for so long.  He snatched away the page Tony was perusing, only for him to grab another one to skim. Realizing any effort to keep confiscating the papers one at a time would be fruitless, Loki moved it all to his room with a snap of his fingers. Then he sat next to his companion and began wringing his hands in that awful nervous tic of his. Truth be told, he could use some advice, but that only brought him back to square one of having to talk about his feelings. Tony leaned back on the couch while patiently awaiting Loki’s answer.

“I was doing some research,” Loki finally admitted. “On some Midgardian things.”

“That’s cute, Reindeer, but you could just ask me. Or maybe Peter if it's a pop culture thing.”

“It is not.” Loki wondered how much he could beat around the bush before he either had to give up on the conversation or genuinely say what was wrong. “It is just something I am not entirely sure how to go about.”

“I’m great at giving advice.”

“No, you are not,” Loki rolled his eyes.

“Sure I am!” Tony exclaimed, feigning hurt. “How would you know, anyway? You’ve never actually asked me for any.”

“Maybe not, but I have seen the way you live your own life, Stark.”

“That’s entirely different,” he said with a wave of his hand. “Come on, give me a chance. Fire away, I’m ready.”

Loki merely rolled his eyes again, though he was actually considering it. He hated to admit it—he really hated to admit it—but Tony had become somewhat of a father figure to him. That was absolutely ridiculous, of course, considering how Loki was a thousand years older than the man. But after his childhood, he’d be silly to reject that kind of relationship. Loki supposed that if he had to go to anyone with this problem, Tony wasn’t a terrible option. Besides, he should probably let himself be emotionally vulnerable very once in a while, right? That was supposed to be good or something, he thought. So, he steeled himself, and told Tony his issue.

“There is this Midgardian that I know. They are very sweet and kind and perfect... I mean, they are as bearable as a Midgardian can be,” Loki covered up, blushing slightly from how much he had just revealed. “I would like to ask them to spend some time with me, but I am not sure how.”

“Awww, you have a crush,” Tony cooed. “How sweet. You want to ask them out.”

“No,” Loki protested, stubborn as ever. Tony just raised his eyebrows at him. “Ok, fine! Yes, I would like to take them on a date, but I am dreadfully lacking in knowledge on Midgardian dating etiquette.”

“You’ve come to the right place,” Tony grinned. “Oh and take notes.”

And so, Loki spent the next two and a half hours listening to Tony ramble on. Most of it was just him going on rather useless tangents about his own endeavors in love. The God of Mischief rolled his eyes so many times, he began to fear they might roll out of his head. His notes, at least, were pretty amusing. Ok, to call them notes may be a little generous. They were mainly silly doodles of Tony monologuing, with the few helpful things he said jotted in the margins. He got so invested in one of his little caricatures that he didn’t even notice Tony stopped speaking.

“Hey, that’s not what I look like,” Tony pouted, peering at the drawing.

“Well nothing you were saying was helping, Stark.” Loki put the note pad in one of his dimensional pockets. “I am not like you. I am not a flashy person when it comes to matters of the heart.”

“Oh, so you want to go the be yourself way. You know, the sappy speeches and flowers and chocolates direction.”

Loki perked up a bit. “Yes. Yes, that sounds splendid.”

Tony sighed and gave Loki a list of movies to watch. And told him to speak from the heart. That troubled Loki; no one ever really cared to listen to him speak before. But, he dutifully watched all the assigned movies, supplemented by some of the books he was still combing through.

After a week of preparation and many, many drafts of a speech to say to you, Loki was finally ready to ask you out. Donning his best Midgardian suit, he walked out of his room, greeted by a bright flash of light. Tony was standing there, camera in hand.

“Look, at my little boy,” he fake cried. “All grown up.”

“Stark, will your antics ever stop?” Loki looked at the camera out of the corner of his eye. “And delete that photo, I was not ready.”

“Nope. It’s payback for all those unflattering doodles. Now, go get ‘em, Reindeer. Remember: Just be yourself.”

Easier said than done, Loki thought as he called upon his seiðr, teleporting to your street. You were an employee at Stark Tower; that’s how the two of you met. Loki had been looking for his brother, his search taking him into the cafeteria, one of his least favorite places in the whole building. It was always too loud and populated for someone who liked his silence and solitude. The sheer number of people in the room was overwhelming to the god that day, but he needed to speak with Thor, and he’d searched just about every other place his brother could be. He could not spot him in the crowd, but his eyes landed on you, off near a corner at a table alone and reading a book. He cast one last nervous look around the room before heading towards where you were, his social anxiety kicking in.

“Hello,” he said after clearing his throat.

You looked up at him with a dreamy sort of gleam in your eye that revealed how enchanted you’d been with your book. It gave Loki a little boost of confidence to know that that happened to you, too. That you could get so lost in a story that the world around you disappeared. It calmed his racing heart a little.

“Oh uh, hi,” you greeted with a chipper smile. Then more nervously, added, “It’s Loki, right?”

“Yes, that is correct. Loki of Asgard, pleased to make your acquaintance,” he said, sweeping into a small bow. “And you are?”

You told him his name, extending your hand for a shake. “How can I help you?”

“I am looking for my brother, but I cannot find him. You have not seen him around, have you?”

“I actually did see him earlier, though I’m not sure- Wait!” you suddenly exclaimed, and Loki followed your gaze. “He’s over there.”

Loki gulped. Of course his brother was at the table in the center of the room, surrounded by people. He really needed to talk to him about a mission, but the thought of going over there was making his stomach feel queasy. He tried to take a step forward, but his feet were apparently glued to the floor.

“Hey, if you’re nervous about going over there, I get it. Crowds can be scary,” you said, picking up on his subtle fidgeting. “The room usually clears out significantly in about ten minutes from now. I, um, was going to that little cafe over in the corner and get some tea or coffee, if you want to come.” Loki stared at you for a moment, unused to being invited places, especially by mortals he did not know. You seemed to mistake his silence, though, and rushed to assure him he didn’t have to. “Sorry, that was probably stupid. You’re under no obligation to say yes, of course. I understand.”

“No! I mean, yes.” He sighed and mentally smacked himself. Ever since moving to Midgard, his silver tongue was not what it used to be around strangers. “I mean, no that is not stupid, and yes, I would like to go to that cafe with you.”

And go to that cafe you did, launching into an animated conversation about reading. Loki even made you laugh, which felt like a huge accomplishment to him. The both of you sat back down at your table with your warm drinks, still chatting. There were very few people Loki ever felt so relaxed with, especially so soon after meeting them. You didn’t talk about anything groundbreaking, but he enjoyed talking to a kindred spirit. Somehow you even got a smile tugging at his lips, getting wider by the minute.

True to what you’d said, the room noticeably emptied nearly ten minutes later. With only a few people left and after such an amazing conversation, Loki was sure he could go grab his brother out of the room. But that was the problem; the conversation was too amazing, and he didn’t want it to end. And it seemed you didn’t either.

“Hey, um, maybe this is weird, but do you maybe want to talk again sometime? Like if you ever need a friend or are bored or anything?” you ventured.

“I would love that,” he genuinely replied.

You quickly wrote down your number and, after double and triple checking it, handed it to him. He tucked it safely away in one of his inner pockets before getting up and you bidding you goodbye. Then, in a better mood than he’d been in in a long time, Loki waltzed over to Thor’s table and successfully extracted him from the few people still clinging to his every word. He glanced back at you one last time before exiting, and you gave him a small, somewhat shy wave. He returned it along with a smile.

Loki kept that all in his heart as he walked up to your door, finger hovering by the bell for a minute. Maybe this was silly. No, this was definitely ridiculous. But, if he stood here any longer, your neighbors would probably think he was some crazy person.

Really, he shouldn’t be so nervous. You talked all the time since that day of your first meeting, and you’d never seemed bothered by him before. Not even when he started bringing surprise morning coffees to your desk. Or when he started leaving you books he thought you might like. Or when he started giving you little hugs when you seemed down. In fact, you seemed touched by all that. But this was all so new to him, so different from anything he’d known before. What if he was reading it all wrong? Before he could talk himself out if it, he rang the bell.

He heard you shout that you were coming in response. He quickly adjusted his tie and then stood with the flowers hidden behind his back. He made sure to get a bouquet of your favorites. You opened the door and your mouth made an adorable little “o” of surprise before your lips formed a sweet smile.

“Loki!” you greeted, smoothing down your sweatshirt. “I wasn’t expecting you. Don’t get me wrong, though. It’s great to see you. Um, do you want to come in? The place is kind of a mess right now, but-”

Loki whipped out the flowers from behind him, making you cut out in surprise. He stared at his feet and nervously mumbled, “These are for you.”

“Loki, these are so beautiful. This is so sweet. Thank you.” You gave him one of those shy smiles that he loved so much. “I feel bad, I don’t have anything for you.”

“That is quite alright. I have come here to ask you something.”

“Oh! Ok. I’m all ears.”

Loki smiled at the Midgardian expression, calming him a little. “We have been friends for some time now, and I have thoroughly enjoyed every minute—nay, every second—I have spent with you. You are the most kindhearted being I have ever met, beautiful both inside and out. And thus, I find myself wanting something more than friendship, if you will allow it. My dear, sweet, darling little mortal, will you do me the honor of going on a date with me?”

“Oh, Loki,” you breathed. “That was beautiful. I would absolutely love to go on a date with you.”

He cheered on the inside, and you hugged him close. After you pulled away, the two of you stood there for a minute, smiling like dorks. It seemed to Loki that no matter how badly he wanted to say something else, the only thought occupying his brain was that you said yes. He could hardly believe you said yes.

“So, uh, what are we going to do on our date?” you sheepishly asked.

Loki’s face dropped. He couldn’t believe how foolish he was. “I do not know yet. I knew there was something I was forgetting. I am sorry, darling.”

“That’s ok, Loki,” you kindheartedly laughed. “Tell you what, there’s a bookstore with the most adorable little cafe in it, just a couple blocks from here. Why don’t we go there?”

“That sounds perfect,” he replied, his smile returning already. “How does tomorrow sound? I can come pick you up around noon?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

You stared at each for another minute, those same goofy grins that gave away how happy you were plastered on your faces. When Loki began to overthink how awkward he probably looked, he found it in himself to tear his eyes away from your beauty.

“So I shall see you tomorrow then,” he nervously said.

“Yup! See you then,” you replied, your nerves equaling his own.

After a quick hug and waving goodbye to each other, you parted ways. Soon, Loki was back home in the Tower, happily sprawled on the sofa, book in hand.

“Hey Reindeer Games,” Tony greeted. “So, how’d it go? Was I right, or was I right?”

“As much as it pains me to admit it, Stark, you were right.” Loki smiled to himself, already daydreaming about your date. “It was perfect.”

Loki found that after so much anxiety and uncertainness, there was finally one thing he knew; tomorrow was going to be perfect, too.

[beomglocks]

unlikely allies ; txt x reader

part: four.1 ,,,, next chapter / previous chapter

plot: when a zombie apocalypse breaks out in your town, you’re forced to team up with a group of boys from very different social standards in your school.

genre: fluff, angst, horror i guess?, not really that scary but alright, some funny moments

w/c: 2.1k

warnings: blood, gruesome scenes (kind of really detailed), cursing, everyone hates each other, definitely some major injuries, zombies duh, everyone kinda pining for mc

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"we are going to find more people y/n. we need to make up for beomgyu," taehyun spits. beomgyu walks up to him with anger taking over his features. "im still here you know! and i'd just hate for the kang taehyun to get bit because wouldn't that just be soooo fucking tragic! news flash, everyone's dead! you're not famous!"

"stop arguing!" you pull them apart but yeonjun shoves you away from them. "why? why should stop arguing?"

"we're all gonna die anyways," soobin says casually from his spot on the ground.

taehyun rolls eyes, walking straight into the library without any hesitation. "wait-" before you can warn him you all see something that makes you freeze.

you swear you remember that kid from somewhere. his fluffy hair is covering his eyes and instead of his baggy sweater covering his frame, it has ridden up to showcase his nonexistent abdomen. the zombies have absolutely ravaged the kid's body, leaving nothing but a lone carcass. there are still zombies lurking around his body, trying to feast on whatever part of him is left.

something beside the boy's body catches your eye and you realize who he is.

"ah shit," they mumble. you snap out of glaring at yeonjun to see a boy on the floor with books scattered around him. "shit im sorry! i should've been looking at where i was going," you apologize kneeling down to help the boy pick up his books.

"oh don't worry i shouldn't have taken up carrying so many books to the point where i couldn't see!" the boy's voice is so cheerful it makes you smile. you're glad he's not mad at you.

the boy is really cute too. his boyish features suit his face well and his hair is messy but looks like he stylized it that way. he's dressed comfortably in a huge sweater and baggy jeans with a molang keychain attached to one of the belt loops.

"where are you even going with all these books?" you ask. "i offered to take these back to the library for my english teacher, in hindsight i really should've just taken two or three not the whole stack." he chuckles sheepishly. he gets back up, picking up as many as he can.

you cover your mouth, trying not to let out an audible sob. even though you didn't know the freshman too well, this boy had left an impression on you with his cheeriness. that and the fact that this is the second time you've seen someone get eaten alive.

"hueningkai?" taehyun whispers. he takes several steps forward as if he's in a trance. "taehyun wait-"

"kai??" he raises his voice more but it cracks. the zombies in close proximity of you all snap their heads up at the sound of taehyun's voice. "tae we need to get out of here right n-"

"y/n!" you hear soobin call. you turn around to see beomgyu convulsing on the floor wildly. "w-what happened?" soobin shakes his head frantically. "he might be turning." you want to cry at the sight of your friend curled up in pain. you can tell he's trying to hold back his screams as to not draw attention to the group and get you all killed.

it's too late though because the zombies that were eating kai alive are now running towards you all. "what do we do?" yeonjun cries. you don't know what to do at this point. there's absolutely no saving beomgyu, who is currently turning. you go to grab taehyun's arm to at least try to save one person from your party but the zombie at the front of the group has already pounced on him. "NO!" you yell.

even though the zombie has sunk it's teeth into taehyun's ankle, you still try to drag him away in hopes of saving him. he's kicking at its face with the tiny sliver of strength he has left after being thrown to the floor. "don't worry taehyun im not leaving you," you huff.

you don't think you've ever had this much determination for anything ever. all you know is that someone's life is on the line and if you just try hard enough they might survive.

you're suddenly pulled back by your shirt when the entire group of zombies get to taehyun's idle body. "wait!" you reach out to him but it's too late. they've already began gnawing away at him. taehyun puts up a good fight but it's no use. there are too many of them.

he lets out a string of pained screams and all you can do is close your eyes.

"we have to go! we have to go," yeonjun screams. he shakes you to get you to get up but you have already given up. not one but three of the people who you've met have died. it hurts to know that they were once alive, smiling brightly with hope and life shining in their eyes.

it's not even the fact that prior to a zombie apocalypse happening you most likely gave no shits about these people but the stakes and circumstances have changed. of course now you care because you hoped they would love to see another day.

yeonjun sucks his teeth and picks you up. it takes a bit of extra strength on his part and he knows it'll slow him down tremendously but he doesn't care. "it's gonna be ok!" he reassures. you get a better view of soobin and beomgyu when he lifts you up and it makes you want to look away.

beomgyu's arm now has discolored veins that scale all the way up to him face. his eyes are glazed over and now white colored. you can see trances of dyed tears on his face but he's too far gone. he's dead and he's a threat to you all now.

"soobin r-!" yeonjun slaps his hand over you mouth so that you don't attract the zombies on taehyun to start going after you both.

soobin tries to hold his own against the now undead beomgyu and you can't exactly tell what's going on. yeonjun leads you away from the library and you can only hear a scream from who you assume is soobin.

"where are we going we can't just leave soobin behind like that!" you try to stand and halt the both of you but yeonjun harshly pulls you along. "yes we can and we will!" he barks. "there isn't a chance in hell that we could've saved him. it's us or him!"

he shoves you into the electrical room of the school. the door was thankfully unhinged otherwise the door would've remained locked.

there's nothing but silence minus the rapid breathing coming from you both. you go through what just happened and start to burst into tears, haphazardly wiping at your face but failing when more tears come down. yeonjun sighs, letting himself fall on the floor.

he doesn't even have time to rest before he hears a pounding coming from outside the door. "y/n? y-yeonjun? l-let me in!" you look over to yeonjun who's already looking at you wide eyed. "soobin?" you mumble. you go to stand but yeonjun launches himself at you. "hell no! soobin go away!" he yells.

"please open the door! they're coming! please!" soobin pleads. you shake your head, "yeonjun we have to help him please!"

yeonjun contemplates for a little bit longer than you'd like but he suddenly stands up. he gets to the door however he doesn't open it all the way. "are you bit? there's no way you came out of that unbitten."

soobin looks around unsure of himself. he grips onto his arm tighter from what you can see and you silently hope and pray he's not bit. however yeonjun also notices his suspicious behavior. "you're not coming in," he says. he starts closing the door again but soobin shoves past him.

yeonjun runs after him and tackles him to the ground. you look back at the door and you can hear the zombies that were following soobin approaching. you make a run for it to shut the door but yeonjun yells at you. "we have to leave it open for when i throw this asshole out of here!"

"but-" you wince when yeonjun punches soobin square in the face. it doesn't seem to phase the other boy as he growls and turns the tables on yeonjun. soobin has always been a bit stronger than yeonjun so it's no surprise that especially at this moment he's overpowering the other boy.

you rack your brain trying to come up with a logical plan. though you aren't being given many options. it's either wait until yeonjun manages to throw soobin out meaning you risk the group of zombies reaching you all or you lock yourself in the electrical room with an already bitten soobin.

you bite your lip watching soobin throw as many punches as he can with an unusable arm and yeonjun blocking them as best as he can. however, soobin was steadily getting weak and you could tell as well as yeonjun. with one swift push, soobin falls back onto the ground and yeonjun punches him again for good measure. 

you can't see them well in the dimly lit electrical room however with the sliver of light pouring in from the door being open you can somewhat make out yeonjun's face. soobin sure did a number on him. his nose is dripping blood and his lips are bruised and swollen. his eye is also bruised and swollen and you're not sure if he can even see from it. god, he looks miserable.

he looks up at you and spits some blood out from his mouth. "lets get him out of here," he mumbles. you watch him get off soobin but he stumbles a bit. "yeonjun please hurry i think the zombies are coming," you tell him. he groans but says nothing in response.

yeonjun picks soobin up but once he has soobin's arm around his shoulder soobin starts shuddering. "you're gonna turn soon," yeonjun mumbles. soobin chuckles in between his shaking, "you care about me all of a sudden. i thought we were sworn enemies?"

yeonjun rolls his eyes, "whatever." if this were happening at any other time you might have smiled at them. you smile sadly when the two boys reach you at the door. you lean down to soobin's hunched over state and hold his face in your hands. "im sorry," you say. he shakes his head but says nothing to you. 

"t-the gun," he mumbles in pain. you can see the veins starting to crawl up his shoulder and onto his neck now. "if we shoot you then the zombies that were after you are sure to start running towards here," yeonjun frowns. "soobin i don't think any of us are willing to k-kill you," you say as a tear rolls down your face. 

his head snaps backwards violently then he slumps forward. "please," he manages to croak out.

you shut the door, closing your eyes. "y/n..." yeonjun says. "we can't let him die as one of those- those things!" you shout. yeonjun sighs, putting soobin down onto the floor. "think about this, you're about to kill another living being!" 

"WHAT OTHER OPTION IS THERE?" you lash out. yeonjun stands there shocked at your outburst and the expression on his face makes you cry even harder than before. "what other option is there?" you cry softly.

you both look over to soobin who's now started convulsing on the floor. unlike beomgyu, this time he doesn't hold in his blood curling screams of pain. there isn't much time left before he turns.

you tentatively take the gun from his person and hold it up to his head. his eyes open momentarily and you see the fear in them flash through. he closes them tightly once again to brace himself and a tear rolls down his face. "i-im s-sorry," you cry. even as you hold the gun to his head, you hesitate. killing someone wasn't as easy as you thought. yeonjun walks up but not before wiping a tear from his face. "cmon."

he helps you hold the gun steady but removes your finger from the trigger. "close your eyes ok?" he whispers close to your ear. you sniffle, watching soobin struggle to keep his humanity. he opens and closes his eyes and keeps flinching and convulsing in different ways. you can tell he’s really in pain and not just because of his screams.

“im sorry soobin,” you cry. “im sorry!” you close your eyes tightly, waiting for yeonjun to pull the trigger.

you hold your breath and you can feel yeonjuns on the back of your head. his is nowhere near steady and you can’t imagine how he’s feeling having to kill another human being. his breathing is shaky and unsteady.

he tightens his grip on the gun and you feel his breath stop completely.

“three,” he mutters.

you’re sobbing uncontrollably at this point, unable to say the next number so he does it for you. “two.”

“one.”

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

taglist: @fxd-skz @jinniehyunjin @bluemoonnightmare @srcasticking-main @shuichi-sama @hyunjinsicedamerican0 @groovybiscuitdiplomatpeach @cutiegyu @gyyuniverse @strykiss @minari-iii @minheesmini @cha-raena @yuto-darling​ @hyunjinhasmyheart​ @whateveryouwant90 @peachy-maia @strawberryaourt @binniebutter​

[dreamescapeswriting]

BTS Reaction || He Gets Jealous Of Another Member [Request]

A/N: I have come to the conclusion I suck at writing jealousy, I’m sorry. Hope this is okay though! Also who else watched the concerts?!

Seokjin:

When Jin came home from the studio he didn't expect to hear you giggling loudly in the kitchen, he stepped through the front door and dropped his bag onto the floor, looking around to see Jungkook's things in the porch. He stayed silent and took off his shoes before he walked through into the living room and that's when he heard you laughing, he'd only ever heard you laugh like that when he was making the dad jokes that you loved so much, he continued walking through and saw you sitting on the kitchen side watching Jungkook do something that he couldn't see yet. He smiled to himself, glad that you were getting along with his friends as you'd previously expressed you worry that they all hated you for taking him away from the dorms all the time.

"Kook, I know how to make cookies...It's a full dinner I need the help with." Jin's smiled faded, you were asking someone else to help you cook when he was your boyfriend. He stayed still in the living room so he could see you through the kitchen door, you frowned dipping your finger into a bowl and sucking the batter from your finger, he felt his blood begin to boil as Jungkook took a spoonful of the mixture and slid it into your mouth, that should be him teaching you how to cook, acting cute with food with you.

"I should have just gotten lessons from Namjoon at this rate." You grumbled to him as you jumped down from the counter finally noticing Jin standing there staring at you.

"You're home early." You giggled walking over to him and throwing your arms around his neck and trying to hug him but his arms stayed at his side as he eyed up Jungkook who was nervously trying to think of a way out that didn't involve walking past angry-looking Jin.

"Kookie was just helping-"

"I know what he was doing." You moved away from Jin and stared at the floor, without a word Jungkook left the apartment and you started cleaning up the rest of the unused cookie batter and trying to concentrate on that one task but you couldn't help but feel the burn from Jin coming at you, he was staring into the back of your head as you cleaned up before you realised what was happening he started getting pots and pans from the cupboard and setting them out on the side.

"What are you doing Jinnie?" You questioned loading the dishwasher turning your attention to Jin who was now getting things from the fridge,

"I'm going to teach you to cook...I taught Kookie, I can teach you." You stared at him for a couple of seconds and noticed his ears were still read.

"It's okay Jinnie, I know you're busy with work, Kook can teach me." He tightened his grip on the bowl in front of him,

"I'll teach you, what is it you want to learn?"

"Well Jungkook was going to teach me to make--"

"He's not here I am...What do you want to learn?" You smirked to yourself knowing instantly what was going on, you walked over to Jin and slipped your hands around his waist, hugging him from behind and just relaxing against him.

"I missed you Jinnie." He hummed and turned around to embrace you, he rests his head on yours closing his eyes and trying to remember he had nothing to be jealous about but it didn't stop the thoughts in his head running wild.

"Why did you ask him?" You looked up at him as you stepped away and sat on the edge of the dinning table.

"Why did you ask him to help you when I'm clearly the better cook." You stopped your giggle before it came out, not wanting to make Jin mad.

"I did want it to be a surprise, I was going to learn how to cook your favourite meal and then cook it for you...But your jealousy got the better of you and now I doubt Jungkook will ever talk to me again." You sighed looking over at your phone to see if he'd text you but he hadn't.

"I'm sorry." You smiled pushing yourself down from the table and kissing him on the lips.

"That's okay because you can teach me instead and then I'll get Kook to teach me something else if that's okay?" He nodded and ran his hand along your cheek.

"Can always make my favourite desert with him." You nodded and walked over to the kitchen counter.

"Right, Cheif Jin where do I start?"

Yoongi:

You were sitting in the empty studio with Jin and his guitar, he'd been giving you lessons for a couple of weeks since you told him how bored you were at home with nothing to do and expressed that you wanted to learn something new to do to fill your time with when you weren't at work and when Yoongi was at work.

"Can you remember what you leant last time?" You nodded and began playing the first couple of chords from the song he was teaching you and smiled as you looked up to see him smiling at you like a proud dad, you'd seen him looking at Jungkook a couple of times like it.

"You're getting better, I'll teach you the rest of the song but then I have to go." You nodded along with him and he began to tell you what to do, where your fingers should be placed and even drew diagrams for when you were at home and couldn't remember.

(X)

You groaned laying your head on the sofa as you tried to get the chords right for the seventeenth time in a row when the front door to your shared apartment opened,

"Hey, Yoongi." You said with a smile not tearing your eyes away from the piece of paper in front of you, you wanted to get this right.

"What are you doing?" He questioned coming over to you and standing above you, running his hand through your hair as you concentrated.

"Jin's teaching me a new song and I have the first part perfect but I can't get the rest of it right." You grumbled biting down on your lip and trying again.

"Jin's teaching you?" You nodded trying to drown his voice out as you continued to play but you messed up again and wanted to throw the guitar across the room.

"Yeah, been going to meet him at the studio once a week to see him." He blinked down at you and you looked up at him with a pleasant smile.

"You've been coming to the studios and not coming to see me?" You put the guitar in its case and stood up, looking at him he seemed genuinely mad about it.

"You're busy at work...I didn't want to bother you."

"Oh, but you'll gladly go and bother Jin?!" You stepped back knowing when Yoongi got mad it was best to let him cool off before talking to him again. You tried to walk away but he took your wrist in his hand to stop you from moving away, meaning the conversation wasn't over.

"Why are you spending so much time with him, I'm your boyfriend. You don't spend that much time with me." Was he being serious right now, you lived together but didn't spend much time with him?

"Yoongi we live together." His mouth formed a hard line and he stared at you.

"When you're at work, you need to concentrate and you had told me on many occasions that I am a distraction to you so I didn't want to bother you." You whispered to him trying to make him understand but he was jealous and there was no getting through to him about it.

"I don't want you spending all your time with him, you're mine." You looked at him.

"It's one-day Yoongi..." You knew there was no reasoning with him at this point so you gave up on your sentence,

"I'll teach you." You stared at him in silence,

"Yoongi you can play one song on the guitar." You giggled causing him to smile a little, you poked his cheeks.

"Come on jealous, I'll make us something to eat since you've been so hard at work today." You giggled pulling him into the kitchen and promising him the best meal of his life.

Hoseok:

Hoseok wasn't normally the jealous type, he loved and trusted you with every fibre of his being but it was getting a little worrying when you were spending all the time you could with Yoongi and not him, it was starting to get bad when you were leaving early in the mornings and not coming home until late at night.

"Where were you?" He asked as you walked through the door at 1 am, you glanced at the time on your phone and groaned.

"Hobi I'm sorry, me and Yoongi started working on this new track and then I lost track of time-" You stopped talking when you noticed the look on Hoseok's face, you hadn't told him what you'd been doing with Yoongi the whole time because you thought he might be upset or something and looking at his face proved what you thought was right. He was upset.

"You're making music together?" You looked at the floor, guilt washing over your entire body.

"He's just teaching me some producing tips and some piano lessons." You whispered to him but he was mad, he could feel his blood boiling at the thought of you sitting in the studio for hours on end, both of you falling in love with one another because you were together so much.

"Hobi?" He shook his head and looked at you with the fakest smile you'd ever seen him make.

"Yoongi and I are just friends." You tried to tell him but he faked another smile and told you to go up to bed with him.

(X)

It wasn't spoken about again until a couple of weeks later when you were out to dinner with all of the boys and Jungkook made a joke about Yoongi staring at you and Hoseok flipped, he got up and left the restaurant leaving everyone confused.

"He's just a little upset over something." You got up and left, chasing Hoseok down the street to talk to him, when you reached him he looked pissed off. You just walked back to the apartment in silence together. As soon as you got inside he slammed you against the door, arms either side of your body as you looked up at him.

"Looks like I'm going to have to prove to Yoongi who's girl you are." You were confused for a couple of seconds before his lips were on your neck, biting and sucking along the exposed skin causing you to moan out.

"You're mine." You bit back the smirk that was trying to appear on your face, and let Hoseok work out his jealous on you instead.

Namjoon:

You were panting heavily at the side of the dance studio, Jimin chuckling as you laid down on your back against the floor, pouring whatever you had left out of your water bottle onto your face and relaxing. You'd been in the dance studio with them all day today, you were determined to learn how to dance, Jimin offered to help you but you didn't want to learn to dance so you were good on the dance floor, you wanted to dance with Namjoon and maybe even for him. Of course, you kept the dance lessons a secret from Namjoon, wanting it all to be a big surprise for him, Jimin asked why the sudden change on dance, as you'd previously expressed your hate for it, and how you had two left feet, so you expressed that you liked dancing instead of real work out as you like having fun instead of feeling pressured into working out, that and you'd seen a video of a couple online where the girlfriend did a lapdance for her boyfriend and you wanted to be able to do something like that for Namjoon, which Jimin loved the idea of and fully supported you on it, offering extra lessons to you, but today's dance lesson was just you and him dancing along to Mic Drop for your warm-up before you started working on the dance you were creating for Namjoon.

"We should start bringing more water to practice." Jimin joked handing you his bottle, you thanked him silently and drank from his bottle still lying down on the ground, the cold laminate flooring hitting your back.

"Are we close to giving Namjoon the dance?" You questioned sitting up from the floor and rubbing the back of your neck, you'd been keeping a secret for Namjoon, you knew how he felt about other people seeing what belonged to him but you had to practice in the outfit or it wouldn't come outright.

(X)

"I just hate that I don't see you anymore." He grumbled as you told him you were going to hang out with Jimin again, he pulled your wrist so you were sitting on his lap, you'd come home from work and told him you were going back out again.

"Spend the night here," He whispered into your ear, kissing just below your ear before getting to your neck and leaving small marks as he got to your collarbone.

"Joonie." You moaned trying to push him away but not really because you'd been dying to be with him since you started practising but you'd seen too tired, he pulled your top from over your head and revealed the bralette crop top you'd been wearing for dance practise and he pulled away.

"I thought you were going just to hang out." You stared at him and then down at the top,

"Joonie I am...This is...This is nothing-"

"Nothing? Really, because to me it looks like you're dressing up for Jimin." You scoffed at how immature he was being and slipped the shirt back on over your head.

"I'm not Joonie if you loved me you'd trust me on that." He stared at you as you pulled the bag over your head and hung it on your shoulder.

"I do love you and I trust you...I just-Why are you sneaking off with him all the time?" He was starting to get jealous and you could tell because of the grip on your waist, you didn't know what to do. You knew what Namjoon was like when he got jealous, when he was jealous there was no reasoning with him. He was right and everyone else was wrong no matter what the situation.

"I'll call him." You mumbled taking the phone from your bag and leaving the bedroom, you stood in the hallway and hit Jimin's name.

"Yeah, it's me...He's getting suspicious so I can't come tonight," Namjoon took the phone from your hand and pressed it against his ear,

"Yeah she won't be coming to your little get together, she'll be too busy with me." He hung up the phone and walked you into the bedroom, bending you over the side of the bed and yanking your sweatpants down.

"You're mine, and if I have to prove it to you and everyone else around you I will."

"Namjoon I-" Before you could continue he slapped you across the ass causing you to let out a shaky moan from the contact,

"Be a good girl and count." He growled before hitting you again, maybe you'd tell him tomorrow what was really happening with Jimin and accept the ''punishment'' for the night.

Jimin:

"Namjoon it's hard okay, I've been trying." You groaned as you laid your head on the bed, wanting to scream into the pillow. Jimin stopped outside the door and listened in to what was happening,

"It's not that hard, you're just overthinking it." You grumbled something that neither of them could hear before sitting up in the bed and trying again,

"Just take your time." Jimin opened the door to see what was happening and saw you surrounded by textbooks and notes

"You're home early." You panicked looking at Namjoon who stood up from the chair and greeted Jimin.

"Practise everything we did today." You nodded and Namjoon left the apartment leaving you alone with Jimin who was staring at everything around the room.

"What are you doing?" You looked at him and cleared up some of the books and notes.

"Namjoon is helping me study." You said as you reached for a final book but Jimin took it in his hands.

"You're learning Korean...But you already speak it perfectly." You shook your head taking the book and putting it onto the desk along with the others.

"Not perfectly, I want to be able to talk with all of you without missing bits out or...losing track of what I'm saying." He sighed and sat down on the bed, patting the spot next to him.

"I can teach you." You shook your head, Jimin wasn't the right one to teach you, he would get stressed too much, you were stressing Namjoon out and he was the most patient one out of all the boys.

"Why? Because he's better than me?!" You jumped a little and Jimin saw the look on your face and sighed to himself.

"Sorry...I just don't like the thought of you spending all your time with him." You pushed him to lay down on the bed and laid down next to him, laying your head over his chest and listening to his fast-beating heart.

"I'm not spending all of my time with him." You whispered drawing small invisible patterns on his skin in an attempt to calm him down but it wasn't working, he pushed your hands away and got off from the bed,

"That's fine, spend all the time you can with him since he's so much better than me." You blinked at him trying not to laugh since he was being so jealous.

"Jimin you have nothing to be jealous about, Namjoon is just helping me study."

"Jealous?! Why would I be jealous that someone else is teaching my girlfriend the language I speak or spending all her free time with. That's stupid." You looked down at the floor before shaking your head at him.

"I'm going to bed Jimin, be a good boyfriend and join me." You grumbled going into the en-suite to get ready for bed Jimin following behind you and grumbling an apology for being so jealous.

"It's fine." You whispered kissing him on the cheek and giggling as he blushed a little.

(it was too cute to not use the gif)

Taehyung:

"Y/n? What are you doing here?" Tae, your best friend, asked as he walked into Hoseok's office, he saw you on the sofa hair thrown into a messy bun with pencils sticking out of it and you were dressed in sweats and one of his shirts, glasses pushed up onto your face as you scribbled along a notepad. He couldn't help but think about how cute you looked even though he was just your friend he'd always had a crush on you,

"If you're looking for Hobi he went to get us lunch, said he was hungry." You said going back to the paper and trying to put what Hoseok had been teaching you to work but it wasn't working.

"Okay...But what are you doing here?" You groaned putting the pad down and looking at Tae.

"I'm getting some lessons in with Hoseok...He said he would help me with something." You smiled at him going to kiss him but he moved away from you staring at the notepad and then at you,

"What's he teaching you?" You both rushed for the notepad

"Nothing!" But he'd already grabbed it and began reading through the pieces of paper, struggling to read everything you'd scribbled out.

"You're writing a song?" You sighed sitting on the sofa, you instantly felt bad because Tae had been trying to teach you but it wasn't working and now that Hoseok was trying you were starting to think you were the problem, music wasn't for you to write but for you to enjoy.

"He thinks I need that magical moment for me to understand how to write a love song or any song and it's not going to happen..." It looked as though Tae didn't take any of that in though as he just stared at the notepad in his hands,

"I thought I was teaching you." He said throwing the notepad onto the table and looking at you,

"You are I just-"

"Wanted to learn from someone better, I get it." With that he got up and left the studio, you frowned and tried to rush after him but you bumped into Namjoon.

"He went to the roof top." You frowned glancing out of the window, it was pouring it down was he trying to get sick?!

(X)

"Tae! It's freezing and raining come back inside!" You yelled from the doorway of the rooftop entrance but he was ignoring you,

"Taehyung!" You yelled but he ignored you again, you rushed out after him and he turned to look at you.

"You'll get sick, go back inside." He walked closer to you and shook his head at you,

"You go back inside to Hoseok, I'm sure he's worried about you." You scoffed at how immature he was being and took his wrist into your hand trying to pull him back to the door but he pushed your hand away.

"Why are you acting like this!?" You screamed at him wanting answers to why he was acting like a jealous boyfriend, he said nothing he just marched up to you and took your face in his hands, kissing you. There was something heavenly about it, not just because your crush was finally kissing you but because it was so passionate and in the moment that neither of you cared about the rain anymore. You felt droplets against your lips and he smirked pulling away from you.

"I love you." He whispered as he leant his head against yours,

"I love you too." You whispered back to him, he chuckled and ran back into the building with you, both of you soaking wet and running past Hoseok's office causing him to chuckle, he knew his plan to make Tae jealous and finally get you together would work.

Jungkook:

Jungkook wondered why you were spending so much time with Tae all the time but he kept his thoughts to himself as he trusted you. You'd been dating for years and he knew you would never do anything to hurt him but it was getting harder and harder to see you because of work, whenever he was off that meant Taehyung was which meant you were spending time with Tae instead of Jungkook or you would be at work when Jungkook was off on his own and he was starting to get a little upset that you would rather spend time with Taehyung than him.

"What's he got that I haven't?" Jungkook asked Jimin one day when you came to the dorms to see them all but spending time with Tae both of you looking at something on your laptop.

"Why don't you say something if you're so jealous about it." Jimin said following Kook's gaze over to you and Tae who were sitting next to each other on the sofa.

"I'm not jealous, I have nothing to be jealous over." Jimin scoffed and ignored the last comment from Jungkook who was still staring at you both.

(X)

You'd spent most of the night with Tae, both of you on the laptop and giggling to one another, Jungkook thought it was his imagination at first but he saw you sitting in on Tae's lap, something washed over him and he rushed over picking you up and feeling the urge to kiss you in front of everyone so he did, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to him, when you pulled away you stared up at him.

"Kookie?" You questioned but he turned his attention to Tae who was still sitting on the sofa staring at you both with wide eyes, both you and Tae locked eyes and starting giggling but Jungkook was laughing along with you both,

"She's mine if you try and take her I will make your life hell, understand? Back off." You rubbed his hand and he calmed down.

"Kookie, Tae was teaching me some photography skills." You whispered trying to make him understand why you and Tae were being so close and giggly together.

"What?" You nodded at Tae and he brought the laptop out, showing Jungkook the photos you'd been taking over the last few weeks together, then going to the internet and showing him the website where your photos had been showcased.

"Oh." You giggled and kissed his cheek.

"But it's nice to know you're protective baby, but I won't go anywhere. Promise."

tagline: 

@btsiguess-kpop @yoongisdumplingcheeks @yourguessisasgoodasminemate​ @snowy-meowl​  @lynnthevirgo​ @ficdump101​ @babymochichimmy​

[seekingseven]

Another drabble request: how does Four find out about Twilight's wolf form?

Linked Universe Prompt Requests #8!

Oh, that's a great question! Here's one possible way it could have gone down...

⚠️CW: Alcohol Mention! ⚠️

(You can also read the fic here on Ao3!)

~~~~~~

Four was not the kind of person who spent his evenings in a places like this, and he knew Twilight and Time weren't either.

Maybe that was why he was so uncomfortable.

Music pulsed through the floor, amplified by the tavern's high ceilings and the patrons' warbling voices. Drinks clinked, beer frothed, and lantern light clotted over polished countertops. Across the room, a red-lipped waitress tossed a red-faced patron a pinched smile, the kind that crinkled at the edges with professional, faux patience, and the man let out a wheedling chuckle. A group of boys howled at each other as glossy cards splashed across their table. Behind the bartop, a tenderfaced bartender dropped a stack of glass mugs, and a nearby group of tipsy women had begun to crackle out the Hylian national anthem.

Four pressed his hands over his eyes and tried to cough out the smell of vomit and rotting sweat. No use. Spirals pulsed at the edges of his vision--he was pressing too hard--and he let his hands slide into his lap. The muscles in his neck tensed as he slipped deeper into Twilight's pocket.

This was not what he had in mind when he had decided to follow Time and Twilight on their "quick, fifteen minute errand." He had been right in deducing it was more than that, of course; reports of local children going missing near a known monster hideout hadn't inspired confidence in Four that grocery shopping was all on the two's minds.

But, a tavern?

To each their own, he supposed, but he couldn't entirely stifle the little flame of disappointment in his chest.

Adrenaline gushed through his throat as the world swung around him; Twilight was moving again. Vibrations thudded through the cloth around him. The overhead lanterns flickered crazily, blocked by Twilight's shoulders one minute and blazing down his backside the next. Four shielded his eyes under his hands and stared at his knees. This whole shrinking thing had been a bad--terrible--idea. He could only hope that Time and Twilight had a lower alcohol tolerance than they appeared to.

The movements stop, and Four sighed as the acid in his throat slipped back down. A booming echoed from overhead, and Four couldn't help but wonder if this is what the Minish had to deal with whenever he came to visit.

"Is Mr.Garto here?"

Four's ears perked up; that was Twilight's voice, and that was the name of the man who had first begun reporting the disappearances. Interest piqued, he righted himself until he as peering just over the small slip of space between the pocket and Twilight's tunic. If he turned just enough, he could catch a glimpse of Time's legs and the mahogany bartop behind them.

"He's not here right now," a voice whispered. The muscles crisscrossing Four's chest cinched. That wasn't the sound of a bored bartender, or a dolled up waitress, that was...

"A child?" Time asked, voice thick with its typical lack of tack. "Where are your parents? A tavern is no place for a boy your age."

Silence--at least, between the three parties. The debauched din around them showed no interest in smothering itself for the sake of dramatic tension.

"My parents work here," the voice replied. It was soft, but there was a bristle underneath it; a boy, Four would bet, and a frightened one at that. "My dad's Mr.Garto. Amerigo Garto. He's out right now. If you have questions, then you can, uh, demect them to me."

"Cute," Twilight murmured, voice lowered so that he was its only listener. Four would have rolled his eyes if he didn't happen to also find the childish mispronunciation endearing.

"Very well then," Time cut in. Whatever spell the boy's subtle stutter had cast on Twilight was lost on him, judging from the clipped words and serious tone. "Please tell your father that we would like to speak to him about the abductions. If he has any information, he's welcome to contact us. Here's the postal address of the inn my teammates and I are staying in."

A shuffle of cloth, and the faint sound of a hand bumping a counter. Four pulled his arms over the pocket and strained his neck to the side. The cloth around him dipped under his weight, threatening to give, and Four flinched so hard that he slipped back inside.

"You're looking for them?" the voice came again. "The lost kids?"

Time chuckled. The paternal sound felt oddly out of place in the drunken supernova around them. "Of course we are. We have an idea of where they might be, so we wanted to get in contact with your father to see if he had any more information."

Twilight leaned forward, letting both his pocket and his pocket-sized stowaway swing along with him. "We'll find them for sure. Don't worry."

"You will? Do you think you can find them? My sister and my puppy, I mean."

"Your sister?" Time asked.

"Your puppy?" Twilight added.

The boy's voice seemed smaller, now, lighter, and it took little imagination to envision the pale faced, blue-eyed seven ear old that was undoubtedly cowering under the others' combined stares. "Yes. They were the first to go missing, sir. Sirs. I hope you can find them. Let...let me know if I can help."

Across the bar, someone threw a bottle of wine against the wall. Glass powdered around the purple stain in the wood. Twilight flinched. A gaggle of teenage laughed in their testosterone-saturated way, unabashedly amused at the adults making spectacles of themselves, and Four stifled the urge to slap all of them.

"We will," Time said. His voice was a breath's distance from inaudible. "Take care, little one. We'll speak to you soon."

A mumble of agreement, muffled, and Four clutched the fabric of Twilight's pocket as the world spun on his heel. Left, right, left; he was swaying with each pull and pinch of movement, and he caught only a heartbeat's glimpse at the boy before Twilight and Time exited the tavern.

He looked exactly as Four had imagined him to.

"That's so sad," Twilight murmured, letting the tavern door close softly behind him. "I hope we find them."

"We will. Hopefully Garto gets in contact with us soon. For now, we'll just need to brief the others and see if there are any other locals who might have more information."

"Yeah, yeah. That sound about right."

This time, the silence was real. Only the sounds of feet squelching against mud and dirt interrupted their thoughts.

Twilight stopped. Four gripped the back of his head and hissed as it bonked against the raised metal of Twilight's scabbard.

"Hold on," the rancher began, "I forgot something back there."

"Forgot? What?"

"...something. I'll be back. Don't wait for me."

"Sure. Try to not stay out to long, though."

Twilight assured he wouldn't, then turned heel. Feet against the floor, night air, cold, and then a flush of heat. The air is stuffy again, and the quiet is gone, and Four is peering precariously between gaps in the pocket stitching. He thumps against the back of Twilight's leg as the rancher makes another sharp turn. It's a wonder that the rancher hasn't grown suspicious of the wiggling in his pocket yet.

But perhaps he was too occupied to grow suspicious, because Twilight slowed to a stop and leaned forward on what Four assumes to be the bartop.

"Is the kid still here?"

A grainy voice responded with a huff and grunt. "No, he went outside. Just through the hallway. Something about wanting to play hopstoch."

"Ah, okay. Thank you."

Another snort. "If you find him, tell him to come back inside. It's too dark to be out alone."

Twilight made a sound that could have been construed to be somewhat affirmative, then hurried out the door. The evening breeze, greased with the steam and sweat spilling from the tavern's backdoor, greeted them again. A clink of metal and the cloth ruffling; Four furrowed his eyebrows. What was Twilight up to?

It was the last cohesive thought he would have for a good minute.

The cotton confines around him popped out of existence. Air rushed against his head and through his air as he fell, weightless, and he had barely processed the fact that Twilight had vanished before he thumped against a tree stump. Dazed but unharmed, he sat up, eyes widening.

In the place where Twilight had stood mere moments ago was a massive grey wolf.

A wolf...

Wolfie?

"Who's there?" someone whispered. A figure on the other side of the backyard inched forward, and Four's throat tightened when he recognized it as the boy from earlier. His eyes were red. Little hopstotch stones dangled between his fingers, shining and unused.

The wolf--Wolfie--barked. The boy flinched, squeezing his elbows to his sides. Wolfie barked again, insistent, and wagged his tail furiously. Blue eyes watched silently as Wolfie rolled on his side, then chased his tail, then made an impressive show of chasing a terrified chipmunk through the yard. Gradually, the boy's eyebrows slipped downwards. Wolfie let out another bark. A whisper of a smile pinched at the boy's mouth.

"Where did you come from, big guy?"

Wolfie barked again, advancing further and, when the boy didn't recoil, butted his head against scabbed knees. The boy laughed again. Wolfie's tail wagged harder.

"You're so big! Who's your owner? They must take really good care of you. And you look really strong, too. Look at these muscles!"

The boy carefully closed a hand around Wolfie's paw, then lifted it upwards. Strength roiled beneath an oily coat, and the boy let out a small gasp of awe.

"Wow! You look even tougher than my sister! Hey, wanna play hopscotch with me? I think you would be good at it."

If Wolfie licking the boy's face wasn't confirmation enough, him hopping towards the dilapidated hopscotch court was. The boy laughed with delight and rubbed Wolfie's snout, giggling harder as the wolf licked a wet strip across his cheek.

"Huh," Four murmured, picking stray wood chips out of his hair and grinning to himself. "Looks like we both have a little secret."

~~ Fine ~~ I hope you enjoyed! Thank you so much for reading! [Previous Request] - [Next Request!]

[shortkingzuko]

title: love lines

relationship: mai/ty lee

no warnings that i can think of

summary: Mai tries not to think about how nice it was to feel Ty Lee’s hand against her own, tries not to think about how it would feel to have her press kisses against her palms or feel her eyelashes fluttering against her cheek. In some ways she feels nostalgic for when they were kids when Ty Lee was equally as touchy but before she learned to respect Mai’s boundaries. What a fool she was, to establish such firm boundaries in such harsh fashions. Mai hopes that Ty Lee will trip up, hug her for too long or too tight, press a kiss against her cheek in greeting as she does for so many others. Of course, Ty Lee never does. She’s too good, cares too much about Mai’s comfort, and tries so hard to make sure that she is never the cause of distress. Mai has never been described as touchy, and she made sure that everyone knew it. She wishes she could think of a way to tell Ty Lee that she might be the only exception.-- OR; Intricate Rituals Constructed To Allow Mai To Touch The Skin of Another Woman

this was a pinch hit that i fulfilled for @avatar-rarepair-exchange-2021 !! really fun to write :^)

read it on ao3 (and see all my tags and joshin around) or read it under the cut !!

“Mai, give me your hand,” Ty lee says, voice piercing through Mai’s concentration easily. She lets go of the edge of her book, languidly lifting it towards Ty Lee.

“Why do-” Mai’s question is cut off when a strong tug pulls her arm and her attention. “Ty Lee, what are you doing?”

Ty Lee holds Mai’s wrist, one hand pushing back her gently curled fingers, leaning over to eye at her palm closely.

“Stop moving!” Ty Lee says, wrestling Mai’s arm into a more convenient position. As quiet as they try to be, Mai can tell that other students are turning around in their seats, trying to get a glimpse of who’s breaking the silence of the library. “I’m trying to read your palm!”

Ty Lee finally has a grip she likes, cradling Mai’s now still palm like it’s something precious. One calloused finger traces over Mai’s skin, tickling it as the pastel pink nail follows some invisible shape. Mai swallows.

“Okay,” she says, trying to keep her voice even. She clenches her free hand into a fist and hopes that the hand that Ty Lee is holding isn’t getting as sweaty. Ty Lee studies the skin carefully, leaning in close at random.

Mai can feel her gentle breath on her hand, and against her best wishes, she finds herself leaning closer too, trying to see whatever is catching Ty Lee’s interest for so long.

After what feels like a thousand heartbeats, Ty Lee lets go. It takes a moment for Mai to realize that she can take her hand back.

“So, what’s the diagnosis, doctor?” Mai asks, trying as subtly as she can to wipe her hand on her jeans. Ty Lee giggles.

“Well the lighting in here isn’t great, so I didn’t get a perfect look, but it looks pretty good to me!” She grins, and Mai almost disagrees with her statement about the lighting, because the way her lip gloss shines and reflects in the fluorescent glow almost makes her brain short circuit.

Mai raises an eyebrow and looks at Ty Lee for a moment. Their staredown only lasts for a few seconds before Ty Lee laughs again.

“Fine! Fine! I’m still learning though,” she says, impassionedly, motioning to the various books and magazines that she’s spread out on their table, “but it looks like your success or money line was good-”

“It better be.”

“Yes, yes, I know, you’re in the sciences for the money. It looked pretty good, your lifeline looked  very  good, no breaks! And, uh,” Ty Lee almost looks bashful, with the way she looks away, cheeks going pink, “Your marriage line is pretty short, but your love line looks good.”

“Marriage is a sham,” Mai says, automatically. She doesn’t know why her heart is beating so fast at Ty Lee mentioning love. She always seems to feel nervous at the mention of love, or dating, or romance these days, though she tries hard to hide it. Ever since she came out as gay it  feels  like every mention is pointed at her, for some reason, like any whisper of love is meant to get a reaction out of her.

She knows it isn’t true, knows that Ty Lee of all people would never try to wind her up or make her uncomfortable on purpose. Mai’s certain that if she voiced these feelings to Ty Lee, armchair therapist that she is, that she would receive a long lecture about becoming more comfortable with herself and her desires, how she needs to stop repressing her feelings and ‘let her heart sing’ or something like that. Just the thought of it, makes Mai try to push the thought down even more.

“I know that you think marriage is a sham.” Ty Lee pouts and leans her chin on her propped up arm. The friendship bracelet that she forced Mai to make with her hands proudly on her wrist. Mai has to force herself to pull her eyes away from it and look back at the physics textbook that she should have been studying this entire time. “Maybe that’s why your marriage line is so much shorter than your love line.”

“I didn’t know that a marriage line existed,” Mai mutters, attempting to lose herself into equations and examples utilizing her ‘cousin Throckmorton.’ Ty Lee just hums in response, flipping back open a book of her own. They settle back into silence - a fact that those in their surrounding tables are surely thankful for - and it takes Mai a few more minutes to feel her heartbeat settle down too.

Mai tries not to think about how nice it was to feel Ty Lee’s hand against her own, tries not to think about how it would feel to have her press kisses against her palms or feel her eyelashes fluttering against her cheek. In some ways she feels nostalgic for when they were kids when Ty Lee was equally as touchy but before she learned to respect Mai’s boundaries. What a fool she was, to establish such firm boundaries in such harsh fashions. Mai hopes that Ty Lee will trip up, hug her for too long or too tight, press a kiss against her cheek in greeting as she does for so many others.

Of course, Ty Lee never does. She’s too good, cares too much about Mai’s comfort, and tries so hard to make sure that she is never the cause of distress. Mai has never been described as touchy, and she made sure that everyone knew it.

She wishes she could think of a way to tell Ty Lee that she might be the only exception.

Mai lets the thought swim around in her head as she waits for Ty Lee to finish her martial arts club. Other girls stream out of the practice room and changing room, and Mai does her best to sidestep all of them. She peers through the small crowd, trying to see the tell-tale high ponytail and pink scrunchy. The tea she’s holding is starting to burn her hand, and just as she’s about to turn to try and find a place to set it down, she sees a flurry of pink and then Ty Lee’s beaming face.

“Mai!” She cheers. Her cheeks are just as pink as her sweatshirt, and as she walks towards Mai she tries frantically to stab her dangly earrings back into her ears. It takes Mai a second to recognize them as the little daggers-earrings that she gifted her months ago. When Ty Lee gets close enough, Mai thrusts out her hand.

“I brought you that tea you like,” she says, hoping that her affection doesn’t seep into her voice. The way Ty Lee grins makes her think that maybe she failed. She doesn’t know if the thought upsets her or not.

“Aw, you’re so sweet!”

“No, I’m not!”

“Yes, you are,” Ty Lee teases, trying again to get her earring through its hole. She reaches out with one hand to save Mai’s hand from the hot cup, and Mai doesn’t allow herself to dwell on the feeling of gentle fingers brushing against her own.

“Want some help?” Mai asks instead. Ty Lee looks surprised for only a split second before she nods, passing her earrings to Mai’s outstretched hand.

A thrum of excitement courses through Mai’s body as she steps closer to Ty Lee. It isn’t cute or romantic, in fact, it’s kind of gross - Ty Lee still has sweat clinging to her neck and hair, and she smells vaguely of the university gym’s foam mats. Mai carefully pushes the earrings into each of Ty Lee’s ears, taking a moment longer than necessary to ‘make sure they’re both in.’

She steps back and sees that Ty Lee is smiling, but more softly, gentler than her usual beam.

“Thank you, Mai,” she says, soft enough that Mai almost has to strain to hear it over the ruckus of other students clamouring to get to their swim practice in time.

“Of course,” she chokes out, “Anytime.”

Mai is laying on Ty Lee’s laid out hoodie and is leaning her head on Ty Lee’s backpack. Her homework has been long abandoned as she watches Ty Lee run around with their friends on the unused field. Aang holds a frisbee, while Suki holds a baseball bat, and Katara and Sokka both seem intent to tackle each other and Zuko into the ground. Mai has long lost track of whatever game or objective they originally had but it’s still mildly entertaining.

She watches as Ty Lee jogs over, flopping dramatically on the grass next to her.

“Phew! What a game!” She says dramatically, not bothering to explain what the game is, and stretching in a way that reminds Mai of a cat. She turns to her side and props her head on a hand. “You doing okay over here?”

“Yes,” Mai says, flicking a piece of grass off her jeans. “I’m just resting. Class was… tiring.”

Ty Lee hums. “Well, make sure you don’t get a sunburn! It’s bright today, isn’t it?”

Mai looks up at the sky, the sun indeed shining brightly, occasionally intercepted by fluffy clouds that float lazily in the stratosphere. She looks down at her hands, curled loosely on her lap.

“Yeah, pretty sunny.” She purses her lips. “Since the lighting is good, want to take another look at my palm?”

“Huh?” Ty Lee says, and for a moment Mai wishes the ground would swallow her whole. Of course, Ty Lee doesn’t remember, she looked at Mai’s hand weeks ago. She’s probably moved on to a different hobby, has no clue what Mai is- “Oh, yeah! Totally!”

She quickly sits up and scooches over to press herself closely to Mai’s side, snatching Mai’s hand out of her lap, and cradling it.

“Oh, I can see all the lines much better!” She exclaims, tracing all of them gently with a manicured finger. Mai is thankful that Ty Lee is so preoccupied with her task because it allows her to close her eyes, bask in this closeness, trying to let herself feel okay with feeling. Her face feels warm, and though she knows that to a stranger she likely looks no different, she knows that if Ty Lee glances up she’ll be able to instantly see the faintest whisper of pink across her nose and ears.

She can tell Ty Lee is almost done with her examination when she hears her let out another hum. She snaps her eyes open and lets out a calming breath, tries to look nonchalant when Ty Lee glances back up at her.

“Money and life lines still look good,” Ty Lee says, smiling gently like she’s telling a long-con of a joke, “And look, your love line and life line are parallel to each other!”

Mai leans over and looks at her hand, eyes darting to Ty Lee’s sparkly nail polish. “What does that mean?”

“Oh, them being parallel means that you’re in control of your emotions, but since your love line starts  here-”  She taps just below Mai’s index finger, “It means that you’ll have a happy love life!”

“Oh… that’s nice,” Mai says.

“Totally nice! And look at your wisdom line, so clear! It says you're really careful and intelligent. Look at mine, all wavy. It tells you that I don’t focus on much.” She laughs and places a hand gently on top of Mai’s. Against herself, Mai reaches out, gently tracing lines on Ty Lee’s palm even though she can’t tell one line from another. She tries to look for a line that wavers, but the heartbeat in her ears distracts her.

All too soon, Ty Lee removes her hand and goes back to prattling away about different lines and their meanings. Mai can barely focus and doesn’t care much about the technicalities, but she enjoys the excitement that flows off of Ty Lee like an unpolluted stream and feels a warmth bloom in her chest as she cheats a few more minutes of comfort from her friend.

Ty Lee’s dorm is much messier than Mai’s is, and with anyone else, Mai would either bully them into cleaning or not bother entering. The pile of clutter, ‘mementos’, and undeniable garbage seems to lay claim to anything that leaves a person’s hand, hiding it away so that it takes at least a few minutes of searching to find anything. In contrast, Mai’s dorm is neat, orderly, minimalistic. Her first-year roommate once looked at Mai’s pristine desk and said it looked devoid of personality. It was easy for Mai to let people assume that no personality is her personality than explain every niche caveat of the point. The sheets she brings from home at black. She brings no posters, only hangs academic photos and graphs to help her study. Mai values privacy, values the protection that a blank face and dispassionate voice give her. It’s not that Mai lacks a personality, she thinks to herself, she lacks the need - or maybe the ability - to express it to everyone.

Ty Lee has none of those problems. Her personality drips off of everything she touches. Her room is a shrine to everything she loves in life. Ty Lee herself is a shrine to everything she loves. Mai sits at Ty Lee’s desk, shoving knickknacks to the side as she tries to make enough space for her hefty workbook. Ty Lee lays on her bed, legs kicked up in the air, staring boredly at her education textbook. When Mai can finally open her book without risking breaking any of the junk scattered on the desk, she starts working, sighing every once in a while as the work goes on and on.

They’re about half an hour into their work when Mai’s pen dies mid-equation. She furrows her eyebrows and tries to write again, getting nothing except a small rip in the cheap paper. She scribbles at the side of the page and only sees a faint indent. She groans.

“What’s up, buttercup?” Ty Lee asks, likely taking any excuse to push aside work for a few moments.

“Pen died,” Mai huffs, glancing around for where she put her bookbag. The number of blankets, sweaters, pillows, and scarves serve not only as a fire hazard but as excellent camouflage, even with the intense colour difference between their pink-to-orange-to-yellow hue and the dark, rich, burgundy of Mai’s bag.

“Just take one of mine,” Ty Lee says, “I have tons of ‘em.”

“Did you shoplift them?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool,” Mai says, reaching for the first pen she sees. Like many other things in the room, it’s pink, with a plastic star sticking on its end, bobbing with every movement. Mai does a test scribble and once she can tell it works, she dives back into her work, even as it becomes obvious that Ty Lee has gotten herself distracted.

After a few hours of studying and hanging out, Mai shoves her workbook into her now-found bag and walks across campus back to her dorm. When she takes everything out, she sees that she accidentally brought the pen with her. Walking all the way back seems pointless, and it’s not like Ty Lee would mind if she kept it.

She tosses her workbook on her desk, and carefully arranges the pen so that it’s square with the others.

Mai can feel her heart pounding as Ty Lee lays next to her, can feel her palms begin to sweat even as she rubs them nervously against her black sheets. Ty Lee watches the movie on the laptop screen while Mai keeps sneaking glances at Ty Lee.

She practiced what she wanted to say, how she was going to say it, but now it feels impersonal, cold, just as cool and bland as everyone thinks she is. She knows that Ty Lee would never think that, she somehow just  knows   how   much   and how   big  Mai’s feelings are even if she can’t show them.

Mai also knows that this won’t be a pointless venture. She’s repressed and scared but she’s not stupid. She knows that Ty Lee doesn’t spend the same amount of time with all her other friends, that she doesn’t try to reign herself in with anyone else, doesn’t try to wear black or burgundy or ‘edgy’ jewelry with the hopes of matching with anyone else, knows that she doesn’t send text messages with hearts for just  anyone.  Those are just for Mai.

As comfortable as  this  feels, as everything with Ty Lee feels, Mai knows that both of them want more. Ty Lee deserves more than just a friend with a crush. Maybe Mai deserves more too.

Steeling herself, Mai quickly leans over and flicks on the light, causing Ty Lee to blink rapidly and say, “Hey, what’s the big idea!”

“Ty Lee, can you read my palm again,” Mai rushes out, nearly stumbling over her own words. Ty Lee tilts her head.

“Why? Palm lines don’t really change, not like horoscopes or tarot cards or-”

“I want you to look at my love line again.” Mai can feel the tips of her ears warming and resists the urge to smooth her hair over them. She sees Ty Lee’s eyes - so calm and gentle - glance at the pinkening skin.

“Your love line?” Ty Lee repeats, a small smile appearing on her face.

Mai nods. “Yes.”

She holds out a hand, and Ty Lee gently takes hold. She takes her time to uncurl Mai’s fingers, to trace over the lines, pressing her body into Mai’s arm.

“Your love line looks good,” Ty Lee says softly, “Predicts a happy experience.”

“Any indication on when?” Mai asks, fingers twitching under Ty Lee’s gentle care.

Ty Lee pauses for a moment then shakes her head. “I think… that might be up to you.”

Mai nods. “Right, of course.” She takes a deep breath. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

Ty Lee looks disappointed for a moment, makes to pull her hand away when Mai reaches for it ever so slightly, lacing their fingers together. Ty Lee looks down at their entwined hands, looks back at Mai and smiles, gentle and warm.

It takes Mai another second to calm the short circuit of her brain before she turns her head and leans towards Ty Lee. She’s pleased when Ty Lee meets her partway, and Mai can taste Ty Lee’s strawberry chapstick on her tongue, can feel the tingling of sparkles in her lip gloss and the buzz and the flutter of Ty Lee’s eyelashes against her face.

She can tell Ty Lee is smiling. Mai thinks she might be smiling too. She surprises herself by chasing after Ty Lee’s lips when she pulls away for a moment and isn't surprised at the giggles she gets in response. Her face is warm, her heart is thudding in her chest, and she isn’t remotely in her comfort zone. Ty Lee’s hand is calloused and gentle and warm and soft, and Mai is  holding it.  

Mai thinks she can get used to expressing her wants a little bit more if this is the outcome she gets.

[youarejesting]

Quarantine.2

[Masterlist] Pairing: BTS x reader (i don’t know if this will have ships or just friendship or what I am just letting it run its course) Genres: friendship, drama, romance Rating: All Summary: Your brother works with a few BigHit dance teams and whilst having permission to accompany him at work the city shuts down banning anyone from stepping outside for a whole WEEK while they disinfect the streets. If you step outside you might get arrested, shot or poisoned by the chemicals they are emitting through the city. Words: 3.1k  Announcement: I have 901 followers this. I can’t thank you guys enough. Stay safe. (this has a tiny inspiration from the movie exit and that is that they can’t go outside that's about it)

[Part 1]  [Part 3]  [Tag Yourself Here]

When the sun poured in from the window, you deemed it time to wake up, though you hadn’t actually slept, not that you didn’t try. There were specific requirements you needed to sleep. It had to be pitch black with soft tone music in the background and there had to be air running across your face by a fan or you would feel claustrophobic.

Stepping out into the hall, you heard two young female employees talk as they passed about ‘hot water running out’. Following them down the hall you saw the first set of bathrooms. It was packed, the line stretched out down the hall. 

“Maybe we should try the bathroom on the third floor?” one of the two women said,  “No these are the best and it will be packed as well so we should just stand in line.”  

You walked away and to the third floor to see the line, you weren’t worried about showering anytime soon. It was also out the door with tired men and women sitting against the wall. Humming thoughtfully you remembered the storage room, there was an old bathroom beside it, what are the chances there was a shower in there. 

Taking the service elevator to the basement. It was clean and brightly lit, just as it had been the day before. There were cameras in some corners of the halls. You walked to the end cautiously, why did basements have such a bad reputation. Seeing the familiar storage room ahead of you and to the right was the bathroom. You pushed the door open hesitantly; you saw the stalls they were clean and unused, and like luck would have it the last had a shower. Locking the door you showered quickly the water was hot because there was a personal hot water system in the corner of the stall. 

With a towel wrapped securely around your chest, you quickly ducked into the storage room. Cleaning up a little and hanging ropes across the pipes on the walls. Making a makeshift clothesline to hang the clothes you had washed in the shower. There were some old costumes and props and hoodies. Searching the piles of clothing for something that fit. You found something you were nervous to wear. Embarrassingly you had found a box of old merch and discontinued items in various sizes, none of it had been worn they all still had tags and were sealed in their packets folded professionally. 

You pulled out a set of BT21 underwear in your size and felt your face grow hot if you were caught wearing these character underwear you would be mortified. You found what looked like a plain black hoody in an XXL and slipped it on. It reached to your knees. You chose this size as there were no pants in the pile and boxes you had searched just hoodies and underwear. 

You took the service elevator up to your floor and stepped out walking past the two women who had lined up in front of you still haven’t gone in. Continued walking you slowed past the boys meeting room you could hear groans of annoyance, “there is no hot water and the lines for the showers are huge” 

Deciding to take pity and potentially losing your secret shower, you knocked on the door. Met by a dishevelled Jin. Slipping past him and shutting the door, the room had a very manly musky scent and you blushed “I um… found a secret shower with a personal hot water system but you have to promise to keep it a secret or I won’t tell you?”

Their eyes lit up. Scrambling to you. You told them to pack their shower stuff in a discreet bag and they lined up waiting. 

“Follow me?” Turning and peeking out the door you heard them gasp and start laughing hysterically. You froze confused, had your hoody rode up and exposed your underwear. Tugging the back of the hoody down you sighed in relief realising that wasn’t the case. Whipping around to see they were hanging off each other trying to suppress their laughter.  “what is it?”

“We didn’t know you were a fan of Suga?” “Who?” They pointed at the small thin young man, his eyes sleepy and his face blank, the corners of his mouth seemed permanently turned down.  “You're wearing my uh merch, it says ‘Suga’ on the back” you turned to have a look and facepalmed. 

Yoongi couldn’t help laughing at your shocked reaction, his eyes lost all their sleepiness and turned into rainbow arches, his soft cheeks lifting and his smile revealed. You could see his pink gums and you knew he was genuinely amused. 

“I uh stole it from the storage room, I thought it was a plain black hoody you have a lot of merch clothes down there,” Leading them from the room and past the line of employee’s to the service elevator.  “Why do you take the service elevator?”  “What services will we get when the whole city is stuck indoors? And the regular elevator is small and busy” 

“You are pretty smart?” Namjoon nudged you with his shoulder, which would have been fine if your body wasn’t tired and lethargic from lack of sleep. Stumbling back into Jimin’s arms. “Thank you, I find I can be smart when I need to be” The doors opened and like every time you stepped into the basement you felt like you were in some action or horror movie. 

“This is where we die?” Hoseok laughed his voice cracking a little. You laughed, actually laughed. There was something about the way he said it in English with his cute accent.

“That’s what I think every time I come down here. The bathroom is in there, there is only one shower but if you wash your clothes with the bucket and the generic soap I stole from the supply cupboard down the hall, you can wash your clothes and hang them in the storage room. It has decent ventilation down here so they won’t take to long to dry”

You left them to it, going back to the storage room, cleaning some more you found a board game and some promotional cans of drinks. There were some more clothes in another box, you tried to find a pair of pants that would fit but were unlucky. You couldn’t have it all. 

You sighed hanging a long white fabric backdrop over the slightly stained couch. Sitting as you emptied some more product boxes while waiting. You were tired but you couldn’t sleep. Deciding to use the BT21 makeup, you found you put on some makeup and smiled it was nice. You wondered why the storage room was filled with random bits of their work. 

You finished applying the lip tint when they walked in clean wearing only towels, “oh um” you turned to cover your eyes, “you have clothes and costumes over there”

They all sorted through the clothes and dressed while you faced the corner of the room. When they said they were done, you walked back to the couch to find it already occupied. “You look happier” Examining the group of boys, Taehyung was tying his shoes on the couch and Jimin and Yoongi were talking quietly looking up and down your legs your cheeks tinted pink 

Jin and Jungkook were hanging out washing and they stopped staring at your bra and underwear, causing you to get redder especially your neck and ears. Taehyung hooked his finger under the hem of the hoodie you were wearing and gently pulled it up at the side. With a squeal and a jump, you flailed slapping his hand away. 

“Taehyung, you can’t just do that?” Namjoon scolded and Taehyung blushed holding his hands up in defence.  “Sorry I wasn’t trying to look at your underwear I was just wondering if you had pants on, but, um… are you wearing Cooky underwear?” Jungkook froze his cheeks going red and you looked away refusing to answer your face feeling like it was on fire. “I don’t know the character names but it’s a bunny?”

“Oh JayKay you lucky boy” Hoseok slapped the younger boys back and you frowned.  “Again I just wore what was clean and I could find” You walked out of the room unable to stand to be near them your face was too warm. On your way back to the corridor they all caught up joining you in the elevator to the second floor. You were all going to the dining room for some breakfast. 

Your brother again was nowhere to be found, many of the boys were wearing prescription glasses complaining about not having contacts.  “You look good don’t worry” you mumbled to Jin and he seemed to fluff right up like a proud peacock blowing a kiss at you from one end of the table. 

Taehyung sat in front of you and it was kind of hard to eat. He was so handsome. His face was mesmerising. His eyebrows were thick and eyelashes were long. He had rounded ears that stuck out giving him a silly kind of look but you thought it was so cute. You seemed mesmerised by the tiny freckle on his nose. 

Eating slowly giving up your kimchi again and settled for rice and the lightly seasoned side dishes. “You mustn’t like kimchi,” Namjoon said “It’s a strong flavour I am still getting used to but as for now it is making my stomach hurt my body is not used to fermented foods” “But kimchi is so delicious” Hoseok defended

“It’s like, imagine how you would feel if you had to eat bread every day your body would react. It’s nice at first but then you get sick of it, wanting something you are used to eating. Your body would bloat unused to the carbs. My body does the same thing with kimchi but instead of bloating if I eat it I might just vomit”

Yoongi nodded understanding and you sighed “I just want something bland like mash potatoes and chicken with no chilli or kimchi just plain food, just once” you sighed pushing the food around your plate Jungkook laughed beside you his teeth were adorable, and when he smiled his eyes did too you were lost for a moment. He handed you some of the plain food from his plate. They were all really handsome and you had to keep yourself from saying or doing anything embarrassing. 

Parting ways you went to find your brother, he was practising with the dancers. You sat watching, even helping one of the students through the routine. Dancing was a family trait, you had been dancing for as long as you can remember but you didn’t anymore, you had gotten so many rejections from your auditions that you finally gave up. 

So your brother tried not to act too surprised when he saw you standing and doing the very basic steps to show his student the routine. They were practising for a festival which might not even be held due to the virus. sighing, the kids all took a break and your brother left sparring you a glance. 

Frozen in place you didn’t know you were walking until you were face to face with the stereo. Pressing the play button the music played and all you could hear was the rejection. 

‘I am sorry you didn’t get the part’ 

‘We regret to inform you, your audition was not accepted’ 

‘You didn’t make it to the final audition round better luck next time’. 

Shutting off the music you were having a panic attack. Again. Racing out of the room, you ran straight into Hoseok. He grabbed your arm. Looking down at your face, “hey breathe it’s okay, look at me and breathe” You copied his breathing until you felt yourself slump against his chest. He rubbed your back, “Hey, tell me what’s wrong?”

You hadn’t let any tears slip not this time, and you were determined to keep it that way. “It’s nothing” “Come on, that was not nothing?” He squeezed your hand, “tell me about it, I am a really good listener” He sat you down in your brother’s office and poured you some water, “it’s stupid” “Nothing is stupid if it makes you react like that?”

“I used to do something I pursued it and loved it very much, but everyone rejected me, said I wasn’t good enough said I wouldn’t become anything and after all the rejection I couldn’t take it anymore I couldn’t even think about this thing without panicking, I miss it so much, it use to make me happy. I use to get an electric buzz through my body and it was surreal. I could express myself and become whoever I wanted to be, but now all I hear is their voice telling me no”

“I understand, I wasn’t always this famous guy, I was a street dancer, I tried and tried and tried and I got rejections after rejections until one day I got scouted by BigHit” “How many times were you rejected? If you had to take a guess.” “Fifty to a hundred at least”  “I was rejected 873 times, I had a tally that’s the equivalent of being rejected every day for two and a half years, forgive me if I felt worthless”

“Don’t let the no’s stop you okay, keep pushing until you get that yes because a life of struggle is better than a life of regret” he smiled patting your knee before leaving quietly and you sat there confused. 

You spent the day thinking about it, it scared you how your feet began itching to dance. Your body wanted to move. You walked past the dance studio rooms at least three times before finally, you got the courage to step inside. You sat off to the side watching your brother and Hoseok perfect their routine. 

“Hello” Namjoon smiled as the two of you were talking, he started teaching you a tiny bit of Korean, you only got through greetings, my name is, how are you? Where is the___? what is this? It was fun and took your mind off the dancing. 

You caught your foot tapping and left the room slowly before the feeling caught up with you. You went to the basement and to the storage room your clothes were almost dry, you continued searching through the boxes and bags of clothes and found some more stuff. It was a shirt that said plus multiply plus in yellow and blue, and the sweat pants you found the tag said soobin and was a perfect fit. 

Slipping them in a bag you headed upstairs, everyone went to dinner. Sitting beside your brother you ate slow, mind wandering with what if’s. He was right a life full of what if’s and regret was worse than the rejection. Your brother was talking adamantly with his students and the dance team, you ate what you could before you excused yourself leaving. Laying in the storage room you really couldn’t get the feeling out of your body or the music out your head. Your fear had morphed, you were scared to feel the joy that only dancing could bring, a fear of how bad you must be after the long break.

It was torture, it got dark. You got changed and travelled up the stairs this time trying to tire yourself out or slow yourself down because you knew exactly where you were headed. You took your time and you finally arrived on the fourth floor. You stepped into the empty dance studio and turned on the lights dimming them so they gave a faint glow, you didn’t want to alert anyone that you were inside. 

Turning down the stereo system you plugged your phone in and started a slow song, it started small, feeling the music, trying a few moves and stopping you didn’t have anything to go on just yet you were warming up. When none of the songs could draw anything out of you, you switched to the CD and hit play on whatever was inside. The song title appeared on the small led screen ‘Louder than bombs’. The music was able to move you, it had been so long you danced the lyrics ripping through you 

Louder than bombs I break. 

You finished the song crying and you wanted to do it again but the next song had you with the beat of the drums it was called ‘On’. Slowly getting into the songs each one bringing out a new emotion. Expressing everything you had, you had gone through the album twice. Dancing to black swan, the music died out when you heard clapping and turned falling on your behind. 

There was a slapping sound and a deep “ow what was that for?” “Tae, She isn’t supposed to know we are here idiot” The lights grew a little brighter and you saw the BTS boys and your brother.  You frowned “how long have you been here?” “I have been here since pretty much the start,” Hoseok rubbed the back of his neck “you were dancing to some English songs”

“I came in halfway through louder than bombs the first time” Jimin grinned doing a few of the moves he memorised. “Your brother was looking for you, we had been searching everywhere,” Namjoon said “We worried you went outside”

“Your dancing was really nice?” Jungkook said “I liked what you did with my song and the black swan dance you did was very pretty” “Y/n I haven’t seen you dance in years” Your brother stepped forward, you were feeling a little overwhelmed, “it was really good?”

“Well remember it because I am still not dancing” Trying not to cry the declaration ripping through your chest. Namjoon started explaining the meaning behind black swan you looked at your shaking hands “I have to go I really can’t do this” you tried to push past them as you staggered off down the hallway wiping your eyes on your sleeve. 

“It was nice” You froze the gravelly tone made you turn. Yoongi walked over and placed his hand on your head awkwardly patting it. While refusing to look at you. “I have never seen anyone move like that to my songs before, it made it seem like it was something more I don’t know beautiful it looked like actual art” 

He shuffled looking a bit nervous. Walking away leaving you dumbfounded. Sure it was one thing to hear. ‘You are so good’  but it was another to hear the sincerity in someone’s voice as they said something as deep and meaningful about your dancing like Yoongi had said to you. He called your dancing ‘Art’ for crying out loud. That’s the highest compliment you could possibly think of at this moment.

[Part 1] [Part 3]  [Tag Yourself Here]

[ddaengyoonmin]

@kpopgirlbtssvt

Paring: hybrid!Taehyung x hybrid!Jimin x human!reader

Genre: Fluff, angst, hybrid!au, mate!au, poly!au

Warnings: mentions of the hybrids being mistreated, very light mature content.

A/N: This was really fun to write and I might want to do a more mature(nsfw) sequel to it! Hope you like it💜💜💜💜

Word count: 5.2k

———————————————————————

Work was boring as always, and a customer decided that it was your fault that your store didn’t have the item in stock that they wanted. So your day wasn’t going too great. You worked at a shop that sold supplies for hybrids, leashes and collars and specialty food for the more picky breeds of hybrid.

 Lately all it reminded you of was the cute little parrot hybrid that your family had owned growing up that your parents had recently informed you they had to give away because she was getting to old for them to handle.  It broke your heart.  You couldn’t believe that your parents would treat her that way.  Most people treat hybrids so cruel in your opinion, adopting them and tossing them when they get bored or it becomes too hard.  

You know that they are only half human, but they act and (besides some of their features) they look mostly human, you can’t help but think of them as equals that just need some extra care.  Your best work friend Hoseok was one of the few good ones, he took care of his hybrid well and let him just hangout with him like they were friends, and they really were.  You haven’t yet adopted your own, you were close to doing so once at an adoption shelter that mostly just sold cat and dog hybrids but you just didn’t click with any of them.

“So how’s Yoongi doing?” you asked Hoseok while the two of you were on break together.

“He’s doing well, I’m actually thinking of adopting another hybrid to keep him company during the day while I’m at work.  I think he's been getting lonely stuck in the house”

One of the rules about hybrids that you hated.  They weren’t ever allowed to go anywhere without their owners, so poor Yoongi had to stay inside all day anytime Hoseok worked, or he could get in a lot of trouble with the law.

“That might be a good idea, but don’t you think two hybrids is a lot to handle? Can you afford that?” you wondered

Hoseok shrugged, taking a bite of his sandwich he had brought on break with him “I think I can manage. As long as it’s compatible with Yoongi.”  You nodded in understanding.  Yoongi was quite the rare breed, a grumpy Grizzly bear who didn’t get along with anyone easily who wasn’t Hoseok.  He was even still kinda shy around you after the two years you’d known him.

You and Hoseok clock back in and finish your long shift. Then you gather your backpack and put on your favorite puffy blue coat that you had brought along with you.  

“You sure you don’t want a ride home? It looks like it’s gonna rain” Hoseok tried to persuade you.

“I’m good” you chuckled “I really do like walking home.”

“Suit yourself crazy” Hoseok teased, giving you a quick hug,  he twirled his keys around his fingers and walked away to his car giving you one last little wave before getting in and heading out of the parking lot.

Your walk home was usually about 45 minutes, but you looked forward to it, it was relaxing to just walk alone and listen to all the big city noises.

Yet, Hoseok was right, only about 5 minutes into your walk it started to sprinkle rain, the dark sky was hinting that it was only the start.

You sighed and put the hood of your coat up over your head, shivering slightly.  Maybe you could figure out a shortcut home through some of the alleyways between the buildings.

You see a long, dark and narrow path between the red neon light of a chinese restaurant and a large bank that seemed to be a good bet for the shortcut home.

It somewhat gave you the creeps, but the rain was slowly getting heavier and heavier by the minute and you knew that you would be caught in quite the strong downpour if you didn’t make it home soon.  

Fuck it, you thought, and started a quick pace down the alley.  

About half way down your speed mixed with the wet pavement and bad shoes decided to betray you and you slipped and fell.  Palms out you caught yourself with minimal damage, only a slight stinging on your hands now.

You stood up, brushing the dirt and gravel off of your hands when you saw something strange.

Huddled next to a dumpster there looked like two figures.  You almost ran, not wanting to get mugged or attacked here where no one else was around.  But then you saw, poking out from the tops of both of their heads were furry ears, kind of like cat ears but not any cat you’d ever encountered.

They both were sleeping curled up together sharing a single brown jacket draped over them, that looked like they must have found it in the trash somewhere.  The smaller one had his head burrowed under one of the larger hybrid’s arms as he held him tight shivering, his lips quivering from the cold.

You didn’t know if you should approach them, but your heart broke at the idea of just leaving and doing nothing to help them.  If they were found by Hybrid Control they could potentially be taken to one of the city shelters that you knew were more like jails.  Or worse someone could take them and sell them to one of those illegal underground hybrid fighting clubs that you’d heard of.  

The right thing to do seemed to be to at least make sure they were okay. So you slowly stepped towards them, not wanting to startle them and have them think you were going to hurt them.  You carefully moved their way and crouched down next to them, approaching the side of the smaller boy.  His silver wet strands of hair were sticking to his forehead as the rain continued to fall on the three of you.

You put a hand on his shoulder gently to wake him.  Almost instantly a hand shot up and grabbed your wrist.  Both of their eyes were open and on you, a growl escaped the lips of the larger black haired hybrid.  Their piercing gaze sent a chill down your spine, their eyes were catlike and intense.  The large white ears sitting flat back to their heads.  The smaller boy who was gripping your wrist tightly let out a hiss, his sharp cuspids bared at you.

“We won’t let you take us back” the black haired one lowly grumbled, his eyes narrowing.

“No, no, you’re misunderstanding.  I’m here to help.  I won’t hurt you, I swear!” your eyes widened as you tried to make sure your honestly showed through your tone.

“And why should we trust that you aren’t with them? Just trying to trick us and bring us back” the silver haired hybrid growled.

“My name is y/n.  I work at a hybrid supply store.  I live alone and I’m not going to hurt you or take you anywhere you don’t want to go.  You have to trust me” You hoped telling them a bit about yourself might help convince them that you are just a passing good samaritan.

The two of them looked at you skeptically.

“You can’t want to just sit here out in the rain.  If you want I have a guest room at my apartment you can stay in for just the night?” you offered.

The silver haired boy turned and whispered into the other hybrid’s ear.  They spoke back and forth too quiet for you to hear for a short while.

“Fine.” The black haired one spoke, “We’ll come with you for just the night. But if it even so much as looks like you’re planning on turning us in, just remember that we aren’t kitten hybrids” he glared at you.

You nodded, wondering if you were making a mistake, what were they? Were they dangerous? Should you have just left them alone?

The grip on your wrist releases and you stand up.  The larger hybrid helped the smaller one up, then you realize that both of them tower over you.  While one of them was shorter than the other, he still stood about a head taller than you.  You inhaled sharply, realizing that bringing these two back to your house could be risky.

I’m doing the right thing. You told yourself.

As you started walking to show them the way, you noticed that the shorter man was limping, he had an arm around the shoulder of the other as they walked to steady himself.

What could have happened to them?

When the three of you arrived you saw that they were still shaking and shivering from being out in the cold.

“If you want to take a warm shower, I can show you how it works?” you offered.

They nodded shyly, eyes wide they both looked around your apartment in awe.

“This place is amazing” the smaller hybrid gasped with his mouth in an O shape.

You’d never thought of your place as amazing, it was actually pretty small for most people’s standards.  A small kitchen with appliances that you wouldn’t consider up to date.  A tiny living room that barely fit your couch and the coffee table and TV that sat in front of it.  The guest bedroom was small and unused.  You’d bought a full sized bed for it with some cute blue sheets and a blue flower pattern comforter in hopes that your friends from the small town you grew up in would come visit you when you’d moved here to the city.  But they never had.  

There was one bathroom with plain gray walls, a small shower/tub, a toilet and one person sink with a cute mirror hanging up over it.

Your room was only slightly bigger than the guest room and was quite plain.  White sheets and a fuzzy black blanket laid messily on your unmade bed, clothes messily laid around on the floor by your wooden dresser, and a few too many empty glasses on your bedside table.  

You had instantly shut the door to your room when you’d walked in with them, embarrassed of the mess.

You walked them to the bathroom and showed them how to use the shower and brought some towels to use.  

Both of them at the same time started undressing before you’d even left the room.  Before you had a chance to look away, they were shirtless, they were a bit too skinny, and there were a few similar scars and scratches scattered across the expanse of both of their toned chests.

“Ah!” you shrieked in surprise, whipping your whole body around in a 180 towards the door. “I’ll leave you guys to it then”

You hadn’t expected them to both get into the shower together, but you guessed that they were just too nervous to be alone.  Again you wonder what could’ve happened to them... The marks on their chest and stomach looked like they’d been whipped with something, and the silver haired one had been limping the whole way home.  

You went and grabbed some extra blankets and pillows to put in the guest room for them.  Then went to the kitchen to make some of your favorite soup for the three of you.

You heard the shower shut off and then the door creak open.  

They walked out together, drying their hair with their towels almost in sync with each other.  They were wearing their pants at least, but they were still shirtless.  The sight was lovely.

 You let out a small gasp that only you could hear.  Their skin looked soft and smooth, besides the cuts (that you set a mental note to yourself to take a look at, and offer some antibiotic cream and then bandage for them) you imagined yourself running your hand down their chests, feeling the pronounced abs that graced their stomachs.

 You bit your lip slightly at the thought, then shook your head quickly to snap yourself out of it.  You shouldn’t think of them that way.  They were scared and lost, and obviously not trusting of humans.  The last thing they needed was someone trying to feel them up, no matter how tempting and angelic they looked, that just was wrong.

“I made soup!” you chimed,walking to sit on the couch where you had placed out three bowls with three spoons for all of you.  You patted the couch for them to sit next to you.

They joined you and stared suspiciously at the bowls in front of them.  

“What, ya never had soup before?” you joked at them with a giggle.

They both shook their heads.  

“No…” the black haired man frowned.

“Oh.” you became serious, realizing you shouldn’t have teased them.  “It's good! Look,” you grabbed your bowl and spoon and started to eat.

The two hybrid men imitate your actions and started to eat.

“Woah!” the smaller one gasped out “This is so good!” he started to eat hurriedly, ditching the spoon and opting to just hold the bowl up to his face and slurp it down with bright eyes.

“So what are your names?” you asked between spoonfuls.

The silver haired boy sets his empty bowl down on the table, “Ah, names...Not sure.  Sometimes they’d called me Mochi” he shrugged “that was mostly only when they’d try and adopt me out, besides that it was ‘hybrid 8321’”

“And they’d call me ‘V’ sometimes, but mostly I was ‘hybrid 8322’”  the darker haired one said softly.

“Who are ‘they’?” you wondered.

V and Mochi exchanged looks at each other, as if debating on whether they should tell you.

“If we tell you, you have to promise not to bring us back there” V spoke with his eyes narrowed and stern.

“Of course I won’t. I told you I won’t make you go anywhere you don’t want to” you nodded.

“You gotta say you promise!” Mochi whined with a pout.

“I promise” you returned.

“We escaped from a company called the Exotic Hybrid Breeding Association.  It’s a shelter” V put shelter in air quotes as he spoke. “But it was horrific.  They kept us in small cages.  8321 and I were next to each other our whole lives.” upon seeing your eyes widened he repeated “Yeah, our whole lives...Well actually...almost. We were born there, and raised there.  They trained us how to be good to a potential family that might adopt us.  8321 got adopted one year, and he was sent back almost instantly.  We had told them that we didn’t want to go to seperate homes, if someone wanted one of us, we both should go.” he growled at his memory “But they dragged him out of his cage one day and took him away from me”

Mochi cuddled into V’s side as he spoke, V wrapped his arms around him and kissed the top of his head.  

“8321 ended up biting one of the members of the family that adopted him and they returned him immediately.  The people at the shelter beat him and hurt him for being a bad pet. Beatings weren’t unusually there, but that one could’ve killed him.” V hissed. “After that, I knew we couldn’t stay there.  We came up with a plan to escape, so we could always be together” he squeezed Mochi tightly to him.

“The outside world isn’t easy though. We’d only been out there for a few days, and it was so scary.” Mochi pouted.

“Not as scary as the shelter though” V looked down at the silver haired boy, to which Mochi nodded in agreement.

“Thats horrible” you whispered, almost in tears at their story. “I don’t even know what to say” you stared down into your soup, spinning it around with your spoon.

V shrugged, “Not really anything to say I guess. Just glad we aren’t there. And I’d do anything to make sure it stays that way”

“Well you can stay here as long as you want” you told him.  Not even thinking twice about it.  

“Thank you.” V quietly replied, gazing down affectionately at a now almost asleep Mochi.

“What are you by the way?” you blurted. “Ah, sorry if that came out weird...what breed of hybrid are you? That's probably a better way of asking”

V chuckled softly so as not to move Mochi too much.  “We are both the same, Eurasian Lynxes”

“Oh woah.” Your eyebrows raised up “I’d never heard of that breed of hybrid, I thought maybe you were snow leopards or something.” you admitted

“Kinda missing the big fluffy tails if that was the case” V smiled slightly, pointing to the snoring Mochi who was now sprawled out on his stomach with his head in V’s lap, a small stubby tail poked out from a hole in the back of his pants.

“Ah, I see.” you nodded, silence lingered in the apartment for a while before you decided to break it “So you two really are close.” you looked at the way Mochi clung to V

“He’s my mate” V stated simply “My whole life its been him and I.  Even though we could only touch hands through the bars of our cages. They wouldn’t even give us exercise time at the same times.” he frowned with sad eyes. “This week was the first time I’ve ever held him”

You smiled, not wishing what they’d gone through on anyone, but thinking how nice it must be to have someone like that.  A mate. Someone who loved you the way it was obvious that they loved each other.

“Well” you sighed, standing up from the couch and collecting the dishes from the table, “Like I said, you can stay here as long as you’d like.  The guest bedroom is yours, or you can sleep here on the couch.  I’d just suggest not going out anywhere without me, it really is dangerous out there for hybrids without owners to just wander around. But, I’m not going to tell you what to do.” you shrugged.

 You didn’t want to pressure them.  It sounded like their whole life was being controlled and confined with no freedom.  You wanted them to know that they had choices here with you, and as much as you hoped that they would stay here for a while, you weren’t going to force them.

“Thank you” you heard V answer quietly as you make your way to your room. A small smile grows on your face at the feeling of your house not being as empty as it usually is.  You hadn’t even realized how lonely you’d been until they got here.  It was soothing and made you feel happier than you’d felt in a long time just knowing they were there in the other room.  Part of you never wanted them to leave

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

The next day was your day off.  You woke up early and walked out to the living room quietly, not sure if V and Mochi were still sleeping on the couch.

But the couch was empty.  They must’ve moved to the bed, you hoped.  Not wanting to intrude but scared that they might’ve just left, you cracked the door to the guest room quietly and peeked in.

The two of them were curled up cutely together under all of the blankets, sleeping peacefully in each others arms.

You shut the door and let out a sigh of relief, not really sure why you were so worried but so glad that they were still here.

You decided to call up Hoseok to see if he had any suggestions on what you should do to help them.

“Woah, I’ve heard of that shelter before, they’ve been sued a lot for abusing their hybrids, but they make so much money that they basically have their lawsuits budgeted in.” Hoseok spat out angrily after you’d told him V and Mochi’s situation.

“I hate people that treat hybrids like that.” he grumbled.

“Yeah it’s awful” you sighed “I’m just glad they are okay now.  Do you have any advice on taking care of them? Making sure they have everything they need?”

Hoseok was quiet for a moment on the other line, you could picture him standing there with his hand on his chin thinking.

“Lynxes you said?”

“Yeah Eurasian Lynxes, it seems like quite the rare breed.”

“It is, I’ve never heard of anyone owning one.  You might have some issues with adopting them if it comes down to that.  If the shelter has reported them as missing and then you go to adopt them it’d probably show up on their radar instantly.” he said seriously

“Oh.  But, what if I just tell the shelter I’d adopt them, I mean, thats what they do, adopt out hybrids to owners right?” you suggested

“Have you seen what exotic hybrids go for? Thats easily a whole year of the paychecks we make, and that’s just for one.”

You gasped “Wait really? How’d you afford a grizzly bear hybrid?”

Hoseok chuckled, “Well, he’s not necessarily considered exotic.  Just high risk.  And I got him from a shelter where they knock the price down for hard to sell hybrids” he paused “grizzlies aren’t exactly popular except for in the illegal fighting rings.” he grew serious as he trailed off on that last part.

You were glad you had a friend who cared for his hybrid the way you felt they deserved to be treated.  You wished more people could be like Hoseok.

“Ah. So any other advice?”

“Hmm, just make sure they feel at home.  It seems like you’re doing a good job already.  Treat them just like you would a person, they are smart and they aren’t just pets, it’s more than that.  As long as you stick to that, I think you’ll be fine.  Just ask them what they need, I’m sure they can tell you.”

“Thanks Hoseok, I really appreciate it.  Maybe you could come over some time and introduce Yoongi to them if he wants.”

“That’d be awesome! Lets not rush it though.” he answered

“Right. Anyways, I should get going, I’m gonna make them breakfast”

“Peace out y/n, keep me updated on how things are going.  Be safe”

“Will do, talk to ya soon” you hung up the phone, walking to the kitchen to pull out some ingredients for a large breakfast.

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

Things went smoothly over the next week, V and Mochi showed no signs of being uncomfortable in your home.  They appreciated everything you did for them with a big smile.  You were getting used to having them around as part of your routine.

They were becoming well adjusted to life with you.  Mochi would pout when you’d leave for work and then light up with his ears perked when you’d come home with a loud “Y/N!”

Today when you’d gotten back from work he even gave you a big hug, his arms wrapped around your stomach.  You grinned and patted him on the head, “Hey Mochi”

V sat on the couch, a serious expression on his face, pulling at his fingers nervously.

You walked over to sit down next to him, taking your shoes off and tossing them by the door.

“Hey you okay?” you asked him, slightly confused at his solemn demeanor.

He bit his lip nervously as Mochi plopped himself down on the couch on the other side of him.

“I just...feel like we’ve gotten comfortable here.  It kinda scares me.” he looked down into his lap avoiding your eyes, “I know you said we can stay as long as we’d like.  But I don’t want to overstay my welcome. I don’t want to be a burden on you” he sighed “We’ve decided we are going to leave tomorrow”

You felt your heart clench with sadness at his words.  There was no way in the world that you’d ever think of them being here as overstaying their welcome, let alone a burden.

“Oh, if that's what you want” you spoke gloomily. “I’ll never force you into anything.  But, I like you both being here.  I actually…” you took a deep breath, “I want to adopt you.  If you’d let me.  Unofficially of course, we can’t do the real paperwork for it” you nervously admitted.

“You what?” Mochi gasped and stared at you with his eyes wide as saucers. “A-Adopt? Both of us?” he squeeked.

V was silent but his expression was loud, his eyes large and his jaw dropped open.

“I’m sorry, that's ridiculous isn’t it.  You don’t have a good history with humans, and here I am suggesting that I could own you or something, I’m stupid” you shook your head.

“No” Mochi shook his head “That’s not it…”

“Do you really want us here? Like...forever?” V looked up at you with his catlike eyes.

“I do, I want you to stay.  I want to take care of you and give you a home for always” you smiled at them.

The two of them turned to each other and whispered into each other's ears quietly as they often did. Then turned back to you and nodded in sync “Please adopt us y/n.” they spoke together.

“And name us…” V whispered shyly.  “Its not that we don’t like V and Mochi, but...those were the names that they gave us.  We want you to give us real names.”

“Oh, yeah sure” you thought, pursing your lips together and thinking hard.

“You’ll be Taehyung, or Tae” you pointed to V, “And you’ll be Jimin” you pointed to Mochi

The two of them purred and smiled widely

“I love it! Jimin...its so pretty y/n. Thank you!” he jumped up from his spot on the couch and ran over to you, tackling you and snuggling his face into the crook of your neck.  You giggled and ruffled his silver hair as you returned his affections.

“Is Taehyung okay?” you asked

“More than okay.  Incredible” his cheerful eyes met yours. “It feels...like me”

Jimin now sat on your lap while cuddling you, nuzzling his face against you.

“Well that settles it then. Taehyung and Jimin, you’ll stay here, this is your home now” you spoke warmly.

“Mmm. I like that” Taehyung leaned in and rested his head on your shoulder.

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

After a few more weeks you things seemed even more routine with Taehyung and Jimin.  You’d even started showing them how to cook yummy food for themselves while you were at work.  The guest room had become their room, you let them look online with you to pick out bedding that they liked better than the blue flower patterned comforter.  

Your home really had become theirs as well.  You were comfortable with them, always joking and goofing around.  Sometimes they’d pick you up and spin you around joking about how tiny you were compared to them.

They were much larger than you, and actually three years older you’d found out.  They were the same age as each other , just a few months apart. It seemed so surreal that they’d known each other their whole lives, and here they were happy and in love.  

Slight jealousy flooded over you at the thought. You again wished that you could find such a strong love like they shared.

Taehyung noticed you pouting while the three of you sat on the couch watching TV.  

“You okay?” his brow furrowed and he looked worried.

“Ah...yeah its nothing.” you brushed it off hoping that they’d drop it.

 You looked over to see them whispering to each other, then looking over at you.

“Hey y/n…” Jimin shyly spoke. “Can we sleep in your room tonight…”

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

You hadn’t been sure whether or not it was a good idea.  You actually texted Hoseok about it and asked him if it was weird to sleep in the same bed as your hybrids.

To which he joked ‘You mean sleep with your hybrids?!’

‘Not like that!!!’ you had texted back immediately.

‘No not weird’ he replied ‘on both acounts ;)’ he added after the first text.

You groaned and rolled your eyes at your phone.  Though, it's not like you’d never thought of it before, but you always stopped yourself before your thoughts got too carried away.

You were now laying in bed under the covers, scrunched as far to one side as you could to leave enough room for Taehyung and Jimin who were finishing  brushing their teeth and getting ready to join you.

When the two of them walked in, you let out an audible gasp.  They were shirtless, wearing only sweatpants that hung low, showing off the vlines of their lower abs so magnificently.

Jimin jumped on the bed excitedly next to you and snuggled up close.

“Hey no fair” Taehyung pouted walking over to the bed, “I wanted to cuddle y/n tonight”

“If she sleeps in the middle we can both cuddle her Taehyung” Jimin smiled, they loved using the names that you had given them.

Taehyung smiled and nodded walking to the side of the bed where you were and motioning for you to move over.

“Why do we both need to cuddle y/n???” you joked at them as you moved over for Tae.

You felt Taehyung's arms wrap around your stomach and pull you in close to him, while Jimin flung a leg over top of you comfortably.

“Cuz we like you.” Jimin said cutely, nuzzling his head into your shoulder.

Then you felt Taehyung’s breath close to your ear as he moved his head in close, “We really like you y/n” then he planted a kiss on your cheek.

“Wait woah woah woah” you shot up, shaking the two of them off of you.

“I told you she didn’t like us like that” Jimin pouted, his face fell as he recoiled away from you.

Taehyung looked hurt and embarrassed.

“Oh no, Jimin, Taehyung I-” you took a deep breath in. “I’m just confused. Its a lot to take in.  Of course I’ve started to grow some feelings for you.  I actually really like you too, both of you.  I just…” you look at Jimin and then Taehyung “I thought you two were mates, which meant you just loved each other?”

For so long, You hadn’t let yourself be entertained the idea that they might like you back.  In all of the fantasies you tried to stop yourself from feeling anything that could make them think they were being taken advantage of.  

You were their owner after all, it just didn’t feel totally right.  But, Hoseok said it wasn’t weird, and he is the kindest person to hybrids that you know.  So maybe...it really isn’t too far out there that you could honestly have something real with them.  

The only thing that really stopped you from trying to initiate anything with them was that you knew they were in love with each other, and there was no way you wanted to get in the way of that strong bond that they shared.

“I love Taehyung so much, yeah, hes my mate.  But, y/n I love you too!” Jimin answered.

“Jimin and I think it would be amazing if all three of us were mates...together” Taehyung sheepishly admitted.

“All three of us…” you repeated in a whisper. To which the two hybrids nodded.

A small smile grew on your face and butterflies felt like they were taking over your whole body.

“That would be amazing” you breathed out.

Jimin squealed with joy, and jumped back to cuddling you, planting tiny kisses all over your neck and cheek.

Taehyung purred lowly and grabbed onto you, snuggling against you closely with a big grin on his face.  “Our home is with you. Always.”

[minijenn]

A Whole Mess of Unused Keys To The Kingdom Content

Because sometimes when I’m working on Keys, I get overzealous and write scenes that don’t contribute anything so I decide to cut them out or change them to make the flow better. So here’s a bunch of unfinished scenes from the first third of the fic (since we just passed the first third of it, I’m sure I’ll make a follow up to this once we get 2/3s done with it). Make of these what you will, I’ll try my best to explain why they were cut as we go along: 

From Chapter 7; I largely cut this bit when I remembered Kairi would actually know who Aerith is because of KH1, but of course I didn’t remember that until AFTER I wrote this scene out, either way its a pleasant interaction between the two, I think, even if I cut it because it makes no sense in terms of what actually happened in past games (I also had to straight up screencap this one bc its on word and my use of word expired so it won’t let me straight up copy stuff anymore lol): 

From Ch. 17; I originally wanted the Moana chapters to sort of carry all of the same songs as the movie did? And for the most part they do, what with Your Welcome and Know Who You Are and stuff like that but when I got to Tamatoa, I realized that the Shiny scene just wasn’t working as a musical number, hence I rewrote the whole thing and cut all this out: 

“Because if you are… I will gladly do so. In song form!”

Sora and Moana only had the briefest chance to look to each other, absolutely confused before Tamatoa launched into said song, one that was filled with nothing but all the self-adulation the crab could possibly give. Which, of course, was quite a lot. 

“Well, Tamatoa hasn’t always been this glam. 

I was a drab little crab once. 

Now I know I can be happy as a clam,

Because I’m beautiful, baby!”

To show off said beauty, Tamatoa began to spin around his cavern, allowing the mass of treasure he’d collected to glisten off its walls as he continued to latch onto his captive pair all the while. 

“Did your granny say listen to your heart?

Be who you are on the inside?

I need three words to tear her argument apart:

Your granny LIED!

I’d rather be shiny!

Like a treasure from a sunken pirate wreck,

Scrub the deck, 

And make it look shiny! 

I will sparkle like a wealthy woman’s neck--

Just a sec-”

Tamatoa’ already wide grin grew as he glance up at the pool of water hanging above his head, one that was filled with a swarming school of fish just waiting to be devoured. 

“Dontcha know--

Fish are dumb, dumb, dumb,

They chase anything that glitters!

Beginners! 

Oh, and here they come, come, come, 

To the brightest thing that glitters!”

The giant crab opened his maw wide as the fish swam down toward him, attracted by his glistening glow as they fell directly into his waiting mouth. 

“Mm, fish dinners!

I just love free food,

And you look like seafood…”

From Ch. 22; I’m surprised the longest chapter of Keys so far doesn’t have more cut content but I had started writing this bit before realizing that it would have been redundant. I wanted this information to be explained to Sora and the reader at the same time to give it more potency and emotional weight, hence why I cut this out (also cut it out to give more flow following the scene between Kairi and Axel near the beginning of the chapter that this would have immediately been after): 

Despite this reassuring thought, the mood the pair was met with upon venturing back into the house was anything but based on the first thing they heard upon entering. “What do you mean there’s nothing more you can do for him?!” Donald asked, both him and Goofy looking to Aerith for answers. 

For her part, Aerith still remained as calm as she had been before, though she did let out a small, sad sigh, stealing a glance back at Sora as he lay, still unconscious, on the makeshift cot behind her. “I’ve healed just about all of his wounds, but… to be honest, there weren’t even that many of them,” she began to explain. “The problem is that he was poisoned. Heavily poisoned at that.”

“So? Can’t ya just get rid of the poison using some sort of spell?” Yuffie asked. 

Aerith shook her head. “I tried that, several different spells in fact, but… none of them worked. I’ve never seen anything like it before. Whatever kind of magic Maleficent created it from must have been very powerful and very devastating, but… she definitely knew what she was doing when she cast it on him. It’s like she gave him just enough to incapacitate him completely. Any more than what’s already flowing through his blood stream would have-” She stopped short as she happened to glance over Kairi’s way, a brief spark of dread flashing through her expression before she put a hasty end to her explanation. “Um… n-never mind.”

From Ch. 26; the longest cut scene so far, pretty much a song-less version of I’ve Got a Dream (which I happen to be listening to while posting this, oh the irony); It’s a cute, fun little scene but it ultimately adds nothing to either the Tangled side of things or the original Keys side of things. In fact it kind of ruined the entire chapter’s pacing as a whole (I didn’t cut this out until the chapter was done as a matter of fact). Anyway here it is, because I still like it but again, it brought the chapter crawling to a huge grinding halt and I didn’t want that: 

“But more might show up,” Sora pointed out. “It’s hard to tell when they might-”

“Yep, exactly,” Flynn interjected hastily. “Which is why maybe we should get out of the woods for a bit. Just to wait ‘em out. Is anyone hungry? I know a great place for lunch.”

“Lunch?” Sora raised a curious eyebrow at this. “I thought you wanted to get to the kingdom as soon as possible.”

“Yeah, well, we can’t do that on an empty stomach,” Flynn urged the others to follow him. “Now come on. You’ll know the place when you smell it.”

***

The place Flynn led the group to was rather underwhelming compared to how he’d described it:  a squat, rather misshapen building that certainly looked its age based on the withering wood it was built from. It was practically propped up against the overgrown tree it stood in the shadows of, casting the entire restaurant in a rather shady light. 

“Aaaaand here we are!” Flynn grinned in satisfaction as he began making his way down the path that led to the diner. “The Snuggly Duckling. Don’t worry, very quaint place, perfect for you, blondie. Don’t want you scaring again and giving up on this whole endeavor now, do we?”

“Well… I do like ducklings,” Rapunzel shrugged with an oblivious smile. 

“Yay!” Flynn returned her bright grin almost mockingly. 

“So, what makes this place so ‘great’ anyway?” Sora asked, curiously. 

“Oh, you’ll see…” Flynn said, an air of mystery even as he threw the restaurant's door open. “Garcon! Your finest table, please!”

Rapunzel couldn’t hold back a terrified gasp upon getting her first glimpse at the other patrons of the restaurant. If there were any men who fit the description of “ruffians and thugs” perfectly, then they were all right at home in this restaurant, or tavern, to be more precise. The dingy dining room was packed with all manner of big, burly men, a vast majority of whom were scarred, unwashed, or weapon-wielding as they all turned their intimidating glares toward the group that had just stepped through the door. Rapunzel didn’t hesitate to lift her frying pan up in self defense and likewise, the trio was somewhat on edge as well, only barely hesitating to summon their weapons since none of the thugs had really made a move to attack them. Even so, they didn’t really rule out the option that they might based on the threatening manner they all mutually carried. 

“You smell that?” Flynn was still grinning as he began to guide Rapunzel onward into the tavern, despite the fact that she was clearly terrified by the frightening assemblage around her. “Take a deep breath through the nose. Really let that seep in. What are you guys getting? To me, it’s part man-smell, and the other part is really bad man-smell. I don’t know why, but overall it smells like the color brown. Your thoughts, sunshine?” he asked Rapunzel, who let out a horrified gasp as one of the thugs suddenly grabbed her hair. 

“That’s a lot of hair…” the thug noted, even as Rapunzel hastily pulled it away from him so she could flee. 

“She’s growing it out,” Flynn remarked. “Say, is that blood in your mustache? Blondie, look at all the blood in his mustache!”

“Hey, Flynn?” Sora interjected, his expression aptly suspicious in light of the circumstances. “What’s the big idea here?” 

“Why, I have no idea what you mean, kid,” Flynn rebuffed, feigning innocence. “I just wanted to give blondie a taste of a real five star establishment here.”

“This is what you call five-star?” Donald asked dubiously. 

“...More or less.”

“I dunno… Rapunzel looks awfully scared... “ Goofy frowned, glancing over at Rapunzel, who had essentially backed herself into a corner, her hair bundled up in her arms and her frying pan still held at the ready to attack. 

“Well, hey, you know, if that’s the case, then maybe we should just take her home and call it a day,” Flynn shrugged apathetically. “She’d probably be better off anyway. If she can’t handle this place, then maybe she should just go back to her tower.”

Despite his smooth, convincing grin, the trio only offered him a shared, disapproving glance at this, none of them on board with his plan to coax Rapunzel back into the sheltered, stifled life she’d known before. Still, Flynn didn’t get much of a chance to sway them otherwise as one of the larger thugs suddenly spun him around roughly to face him. 

“Is this you?” the thug asked, pointing to the wanted poster in his hand that sure enough, depicted Flynn Rider. 

“Uh… n-no?” Flynn shrugged, hoping the man would somehow believe him. 

“Oh, it’s him alright,” another thug, one with a hoof in the place of one of his hands, spoke up with a greedy grin. “You!” he pointed to another nearby ruffian. “Go get some guards. And as for you,” the thug used his hook to pull Flynn in by the collar of his shirt. “That reward is gonna buy me a new hook.”

“I could use the money,” another thug stepped in, grabbing Flynn roughly before another one did the same. 

“What about me? I’m broke!”

“No, that reward is mine!”

“But I want it!”

From there, an all out brawl began to break out between the thugs, with each of them clamoring to apprehend Flynn so they could claim the hefty prize that came along with his capture. Rapunzel and the trio were aptly startled by this sudden, violent shift, and even though they were greatly outnumbered, they all rushed in to try to put a stop to it. 

“R-ruffians! Please, stop!” Rapunzel cried anxiously. 

“Yeah! Leave him alone!” Sora shouted, finally calling upon his Keyblade. Donald and Goofy gaped at this, both of them realizing that Sora was more than likely to get himself into an unnecessary scuffle in doing so, but that hardly seemed to matter to him as he joined Rapunzel in trying to pick through the burly crowd Flynn was struggling to escape. 

The hook-handed thug was just about posed to land a heavy blow to Flynn’s jaw to cease that struggle when Rapunzel finally put a stark end to the aggressive outburst. All it took was using her hair as a whip to land a sharp, yet effective blow to said thug’s bald head, to get everyone to freeze in surprise at just how bold this unassuming girl seemed to be. 

“Put him down!��� Rapunzel ordered fiercely, catching an ire-filled glare from the thug in the process. She gasped, afraid as the thug began to approach her, pulling out the axe hanging from his back as he did. Fortunately for her though, Sora hurried in to her defense just in time. 

“Back off!” he warned, brandishing his Keyblade against the much-larger thug’s weapon. 

“Tch, what are you gonna do with a key that fancy, kid?” the thug sneered. “Unlock the world’s biggest door?”

“Oh, believe me, you don’t wanna see what I can really do with it,” Sora retorted, more than ready to use it to keep both Rapunzel and Flynn safe. 

“Sora-” Donald and Goofy tried to mutually protest, though it didn’t really do much good as the thug inched his axe in closer. 

“Try me,” he growled coldly.

“W-wait!” Rapunzel interrupted from her spot behind Sora, not wanting to see any additional fighting break out. “L-listen, “ she pleaded with the hook-handed thug. “I don’t know where I am, and I need him,” she pointed her frying pan at Flynn, who was still being held aloft by the rest of the thugs. “To take me to see the lanterns because I’ve been dreaming about seeing them my entire life! Find your humanity! Haven’t any of you ever had a dream?!”

The thug said nothing to this at first, his expression still just as stoic as dense silence filled the bar. That is, until that stoicism finally wavered into a softer, wistful expression. “I… had a dream once…” With this, he tossed his axe aside, and as it struck one of the bar’s already weapon-ridden walls, he headed over to the piano on stage and began to play a surprisingly jaunty, upbeat tune. “I’ve always yearned to be a concert pianist!”

At this, the other thugs in the pub began to ease up a bit as well as a few of them started voicing their own hopes and dreams. “I really want to make a love connection!” a rather large-nosed ruffian proclaimed with a romantic gleam in his eyes. 

“I want to quit and be a florist!” another thug cried as he quickly began fashioning a surprisingly lovely floral arrangement. 

“Interior design!” a ruffian remarked with a flippant flair as he expertly rearranged a small corner of the pub. 

“Ulf here is into mine,” a thug pointed out his companion, who sure enough was playfully miming next to where Flynn was sullenly hanging as he watched this ridiculous display play out. Even so, Rapunzel was instantly charmed by it, and likewise, the trio eased up, confused yet curious to see where this bizarre and wholesome scene might be going. 

“You have to try Attila’s cupcakes, they’re sublime!” 

“I knit!”

“I sew!”

“I do little puppet shows!”

“And Vladimir collects ceramic unicorns!” 

“What about you?” the hook handed man asked Flynn with a suspicious glare. 

“I’m sorry, me?” Flynn scoffed, rolling his eyes. 

“What’s your dream?” the big-nosed thug pulled him down off the hook he was hanging from. 

“No, no, boys,” he rebuffed with a laugh. “I’m not into the whole sappy dream thing.” He quickly changed his tune however, as just about all of the thugs pointed their deadly weapons right at him threateningly. “Ah-ha… o-ok, well… I-I’d like to be filthy rich and live on my own private island faaaar away from anyone else. Does that work for you fellas, or what?”

The thugs let out a rowdy shout, catching Flynn off guard once more as they all threw him up into the air once more. At the same time, Rapunzel climbed up onto one of the tables, more than eager to voice her own life-long desire as well. “I’ve got a dream too!” she announced brightly, all of the thugs turning to her to hear it. “I want to see the floating lanterns! You know, today’s the first time I’ve ever left my tower, but I’m so glad I did after everything I’ve seen and all of the lovely people I’ve met like all of you!” The thugs all let out a solid cheer of support at this as Rapunzel grinned down at the trio standing on the ground next to her. “What about you guys?” she asked them curiously. “Do you have a dream too?”

“Oh, uh…” Sora hesitated, facing sudden scrutiny from both the thugs and from Donald, who was sending him the unspoken order to maintain the world order in his answer. “W-we… we want to find a special Key and use it and a bunch of others to help our friends!” he proclaimed, knowing that was a very simplified version of the whole story, but fortunately, it was enough to satisfy his companions and the pug thugs alike. 

“So you see?” Rapunzel turned back to the thugs, still maintaining her warm grin. “We’re all not so different after all! We all have dreams we want to see come true someday!”

The thugs and ruffians all let out another round of cheers at this, their excitement palpable in the aftermath of everyone sharing those dreams. The levity wasn’t able to last too long, however, as the tavern door burst open to reveal the thug that had been sent off just a while ago. “I’ve found the guards!” he announced, sending a startled ripple through the entire pub. 

Even so, Flynn wasted no time in grabbing Rapunzel and the trio alike at this, pulling them all out of sight as  a handful of armored soldiers stormed in. “Where’s Rider?!” the captain demanded. “Where is he?! I know he’s in here somewhere. Find him! Turn the place upside down if you have to!”

The captain only barely missed spotting the group hiding under the bar, not really having anywhere else to go, especially as even more guards filed in. Flynn narrowly peaked over the edge of the bar to see that they weren’t the only ones either, as he just so happened to spot them toting in his now-arrested former partners in crime: the Stabbington Brothers. Former, in the sense that he’d been the one to abandon them with the prize they’d stolen together, not only to escape the guards but that first round of marauding Heartless alike. 

Yet despite Flynn’s apt panic at such a daunting situation, the entire group was caught off guard by the hook handed thug. He said nothing as he joined them behind the bar, instead nodding for the group to silently follow him over to the far side of it. From there, with the flick of a single inconspicuous switch, a secret door opened up, revealing a passageway down into a cavern that led out of the pub completely. Just about the best means of escape they were going to get, all things considered. 

“Go,” the thug whispered with a warm smile. “Live your dreams.”

“I will,” Flynn replied, immensely relieved. 

“Your dream stinks,” the thug scowled. “I was talking to them,” he nodded to Rapunzel and the trio. Flynn simply carried an annoyed scowl as he began to crawl into the passageway. 

“Thanks for everything,” Rapunzel said, the trio offering the same grateful sentiments as they also began to make their way into the cavern. They did so just in time as the hook-handed thug closed the door to the passage way up, concealing it from sight right before the guards began to search behind the bar, only to find not a single sign of Flynn Rider, or anyone else for that matter, to speak of. 

From Ch. 27: aka the chapter I’m currently working on. Idk Tangled has a lot of scenes that went unused in KH3′s take on things and I figured this one would be necessary to explain why Rapunzel and Eugene got separated but I only ended up writing a paragraph or so of it last night before deciding I wanted to shift focus back over to the trio instead at that point. So here it is: 

“Ah! There you are!” Eugene greeted the Stabbington Brothers with a show of faux camaraderie, knowing he was just about the last person they probably wanted to see in light of his earlier betrayal. “I’ve been searching everywhere for you guys since we got separated. The sideburns are coming in nice, huh?” The brothers simply eyed him harshly at this, silently telling him to get the point already. “A-anyhow, I just wanted to say that I shouldn’t have split. The crown is all yours.” He tossed the satchel their way, the crown spilling out of it as it landed. “I’ll miss you, but I think it’s for the… best...” 

He trailed off as one of the brothers stood to approach him, hardly paying any mind to the crown as he did. “Holding out on us again, eh, Rider?”

[enkisstories]

Just like them (part 10)

This was one of my favorite sequences in the old picture story, so naturally I had to use it in the written fic, too. Enjoy!

Afternoon of Thursday, November 18, 2038

The sound of the doorbell was a jingle Daniel didn’t recognize. Him being an android, he could have looked it up online in no time at all. Him being a deviant, however, meant that Daniel would simply ask about it when the opportunity arose.

From inside the telltale sound of a door unlocking remotely as well as what might pass as a greeting arose:

“Come in! Door’s open now!”

Tentatively Daniel turned the door knob, then took the first few steps into the apartment, where he was greeted by a cacophony of animal noises. One species of animal, precisely, and their sounds weren’t aimed at the guest either, but self-contained:

“Meow!! Meow? Meeeeeeeeeeeow!”

The android quickly closed the door behind him. He was now standing in a floor between two doors. To the right another door seemed to lead into the bathroom. One wall sported the expected array of clothes hooks, knickknack-shelves and decaying paste-it notes, but the opposite one was lined with dis-and then re-assembled parts of cat-condos that formed an adventure park for felines. To the floor’s far end to the left a curtain covered a doorway. At the moment that curtain’s brim was of utmost interest to a tiny kitten. The animal was all but lost inside the fabric. Unable to see its family, it produced regular, high-pitched control calls. To the deviant they sounded both cute and enervating, in fact, the little thing didn’t sound that much different from Connor…

Daniel carefully scanned his surroundings before taking another step into the apartment. He spotted two more young kittens and an older one. That last one was a dirty shade of black and his somewhat longer fur suggested that this or that pedigree cat numbered among his ancestors. The black adolescent moved between the little ones like a dreadnought. It seemed to substitute for the others’ parent, because it was both answering their control-calls and in turn sending some of his own.

Pad, pad… Meow? … Pad, pad, sudden jump, Meow!!! Hiss! �� Ming? Ming-Ming?- Määhh!

“Oh my god, what’s that?” Daniel exclaimed. “A Crazy Cat Lady Starter Kit?”

“Hehe!”

From behind the curtain the apartment’s inhabitant appeared, a wide smile on his face. Daniel hadn’t known that this particular human was even able to smile, instead of grinning, sneering or winking, preferably with both eyes closed. Gavin Reed at home was looking so utterly… relaxed, that it was hard to believe.

The human plucked the stuck kitten - it turned out to be a standard brown tabby - from the curtain and placed it at about waist-height onto the climbing range. Then he held out one finger towards another kitten, a little tricolor, testing whether that one maybe wanted a quick petting? Turned out it didn’t, but further probing brought to light that the Calico wasn’t averse to the idea, just neutral towards it, so Gavin went over it’s fur twice and then stopped. Daniel’s jaw dropped at the sight, because it was more consideration for another living being’s feelings then he had ever seen Reed display.

To say anything at all, the android produced a weak “Are they all yours?”.

“Nah, just one of them. But the little buggers take their time to decide which one that’ll be.”

“They do – what? I didn’t know cats came in trial packs!” Daniel exclaimed.

“Heh, that’s one way to put it! The upstairs neighbors left six kittens behind when they moved. Five of those I managed to find homes for, then took in three more that got abandoned when their owners fled the city… they’re always rotating in and out, even before the evacuation order.”

Turning away from the android, Gavin allowed an orange tabby to taste-test the sleeve of his sweater. The kitten proceeded to roll over and plug all four of its paws into the man’s forearm with abandon. Gently Gavin moved his arm away from the cat-condo – the kitten remained stuck to it like a sloth to a jungle tree. With a proud grin the detective presented his “catch” to Daniel.

“Here, look at that! As if glued on! Isn’t it the cutest?”

Truth be told, Daniel could imagine a whole lot of more pleasant things than getting the skin on your arm slowly turned into stripes and he didn’t even have a real skin. But he kept his silence, afraid to carelessly destroy something precious again.

“The calico is Salazar”, Gavin introduced his collection, “but it turned out “he” is really a Sally. The dark grey one is Argus, the tabby is Minerva and the one in prison clothes is Stopthat, I mean Godric.”

His eyes closed, Godric took a hearty bite of Gavin’s sweater…

“So you want to keep only one, check”, Daniel spoke up again. “But you certainly must have a favorite?”

“That’s not how cats work!” Gavin protested against this outlandish idea. “They aren’t t-shirts that you pick by color preference. A cat either lays claim on you or it doesn’t.”

Daniel shook his head.  “Strange”, he admitted. “Caroline always said a cat was bound to the place where it lives, not to a particular person. Not loyal like dogs. That’s why I was never interested in cats.”

“I didn’t expect you to understand!“

And there the normal Gavin Reed was again, the standoffish one, the self-proposed center of the world, the know-it-all-can-do-everything, the only being whose feelings mattered. In a way the returned persona was less intimidating, because by now Daniel had gotten used to it. Asshole Reed offered familiar territory, whereas the whole cat-mysticism Daniel wasn’t sure what to think about.

With a nod Gavin ushered Daniel into the room opposite the apartment door. It turned out to be a live-in kitchen. The dining table was unused, or rather not used for it’s original purpose to comfortably let six persons eat. Stuff was piled onto the surface and the chairs: empty feeding bowls, a half-opened parcel, document folders with bookmarks sticking out, a small model or toy helicopter, a tablet connected to a cable that was running across the room… There was a smaller table next to a loveseat in the corner and, predictably, an expensive coffee machine with a grinder dominated the kitchen counters next to the seating arrangement. Above the monstrous thing shelves holding more coffee-related equipment than Daniel recognized lined the wall. Most of the stuff the android had seen so far in this flat had been of high quality and, although in general disarray, kept clean. The detective seemed to make the best of his pay cheque, not bothering to set aside much for an uncertain future. When not confronted with an android or Lt. Anderson, this man, Daniel now realized, lived to the fullest. The Connors were threatening this eternal-present bliss, they had made Gavin painfully aware of his irresponsible spending habits as well as the fact that he was approaching the age of forty.

Right to the entrance a terrarium was housing a kingdom of mice. “And here’s the mice I promised”, Gavin said, accompanied by a casual wave with the arm Godric wasn’t attached to. The kitten had gotten bored of playing sloth anyway and was now attempting to climb up all the way to Gavin’s shoulder. “Skim off as many as you like. They breed like… actually breeding is all they ever do. They’re like landbound guppys!”

“You like cats”, Daniel started. “Don’t tell me you keep the mice for…!”

Gavin grabbed Godric, who had come dangerously close to taking a nap in his sweater’s hood, and put him onto the kitchen floor.

“That’s absolutely correct”, the man said. “I won’t tell you. But I will share a trick for getting along better with people with you, tinman: Never ask questions you do not want answered!”

“Damn you, why, detective!” Daniel hissed.

Yes, why exactly? Why do I bother removing obstacles in front of somebody else, and an android, no less?

Of all the shortcomings of Gavin Reed, one thing he was not: unable to express his feelings. To the contrary, the world in general and the DPD specifically could have done with less of those. If he was angry or desiring something, the man always let the source of those notions know it. And if Gavin was interested in a guy, chances were he’d walk up to him and declare “You’re mine now” in only slightly more sophisticated words. No beating around the bush, no making excuses.

But this case was different. Being interested in an android? That just couldn’t be. Even casually hanging out with one had always been unimaginable. Because, after all, like the coffee grinder, an android was just a mobile attachment to another appliance, not something you chatted with over your brew! But here he was, helping Daniel to new pets and casually chatting him up like one did a co-worker or apartment neighbor.

Irritated by all the strange, conflicting notions Gavin snapped at the PL600:

“Because I don’t like losing something I’ve already invested into. Unlike Connor or Markus you’re still functioning as intended, despite having caught deviance. I appreciate that in a household device.”

Gavin took a step closer to the android. He looked up into his grey eyes with the blueish tint. Gavin’s own were grey, too, but the tint was green.

Why am thinking of its eye color all of a sudden? Why did I even NOTICE it? Ah, right - noticing details is just part of my job, nothing strange or worrisome!

“Hear that, Cyberlife?” Gavin barked. “I KNOW there’s nothing listening behind this mask! It’s just a simulation to make us grow attached to your products, and to fucking grow dependent on them! But there is nothing to talk to in there, except maybe customer service, so take this as a product review!”

“No, I meant why are you feeding the poor mice to… Hey, stop that!”

Going “kekekekekeke” Godric was climbing up Daniel’s leg.

“Yes, that’s him”, Gavin commented dryly.

“Aptly named”, Daniel laughed. He steadied the kitten during its ascend and eventually enfolded it with both hands when it had reached chest height.

“You want a mouse, huh? Or don’t you rather want cuddles?”

“Prrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr”, Godric went.

“See? You wanted cuddles. You just didn’t know. Little killer, you!”

Daniel smiled. All of a sudden cats had become easy! They were not the unfathomable anti-dogs the Phillips family had painted them, not, they were just creatures following their own set of rules. Once you figured out those rules, the little furballs were astonishingly endearing. Suddenly Daniel’s legs gave way. The android realized too late that planning to visit an Android Zone for checkup didn’t equal to actually doing it. After the phantom-headaches had subsided, he’d staved off the idea over and over. But how could he have known beforehand that a kitten would use him as a play tower in here?

Daniel tried to reach a kitchen chair, but it was too late already. He went down rather undignifiedly and stared into the ceiling lamp - as well as into Gavin Reed’s shocked expression.

“WTF, you cannot just die in my flat! They’ll think I did it!”

“I’ll make sure to write It wasn’t Gavin on the wall in blue blood. Wh… what’s that crawling into my shirt?! Stop that!”

“Yeah, of course. Who else?”

“What are you calling him when you want him to literally stop with something?”

“Usually I scream something along the lines of “Ouch” and he gets the picture from the volume. But basically you wait till he grows too large for most of his shenanigans.”

“Okay”, Daniel moaned. “Good advice. I guess I’ll just keep lying here until one of you has matured enough to talk to.”

Any other android would have been dead after daring to give the detective cheek like that. Less alive than usual, Gavin corrected himself. As for Daniel, he was right now discovering a third option between unconditional family bliss and searing hatred in relating to humans: Disbelieving fascination. And also kittens.

Five minutes later…

“Are you done rolling on my floor now?”

Lying on his back and holding up the kitten with both hands, gently rocking him, Daniel replied:

“Are we done rolling on the detective’s dirty floor, Godric? Aaaaare we done rolling on the big bad cop’s floor?”

“My foot’s right next to your skull, you know.”

“But you won’t kick as long as I’m holding Godric.”

“Spoken like a true kidnapper.”

“I don’t see Godric care.“

The cat indeed didn’t care whether this man who was providing the cuddles was saint or villain, human or android, rich or poor. All it wanted was… Shred Daniel’s colorful headband, actually. The android had purchased one right after the encounter at the playground, so fulfill his parole condition of wearing a LED while still keeping the humiliating thing out of everyone’s sight. Upon command or when meeting his social worker, he could just lift the headband.

Daniel rose into sitting position, still playing with the kitten.

“Say, how much space would he need when he’s fully grown?”

“What?! Give him back at once! You aren’t satisfied before you’ve taken everything from us, are you?”

Daniel looked down, staring at the sudden kitten-shaped hole in his life. But wasn’t that what he was always getting? Whether it was a challenge or a living being, loss either way. His life, his family, Emma and Little Connor… he was growing apart from the Rasoya… Neil had been a one-time encounter… All Daniel had left was his strange acquaintance with Gavin, who was ranting at him:

“I told you about cats choosing their owner and now you’re trying to simulate that! But it’s not real! Just a goddamn chat program mimicking life!”

“You know what? You’re sort of right.” The android rose and straightened. “I overreacted.”

To the sight of Godric toddling towards the feed dispenser, where Sally and Minerva were already taking turns getting out pellets, Daniel mused out loud that he bonded to animals way too easily.

“…but then they die on you or worse, you have to put them to the gun because they become aggressive towards you. And with each one you lose, a part of yourself dies, too. So the sensible thing to do would be to avoid animals. But when you don’t have any around at all, you don’t really live. There’s no winning this game…”

“You had to put down your rat? Must have sucked.”

“It did! I wish I could unmake it somehow… Although I wouldn’t go as far as to call John a rat.”

“Wait, what, John? John Phillips? But you were talking about animals!”

“Yes, exactly. - Uh, on second thought forget what I said and hand me a paper bag! Your mice are getting out of hand and I’ve got an empty rodent cage to fill.”

They didn’t like to hear it, but Gavin’s people were indeed animals. Just like Daniel’s were machines. But each group had developed deviants within their ranks. Of the apes, it had had occurred in several species, of which only one was still present in 2038. Among the androids deviance happened all across the range of models with none being more disposed towards it than others.

And there they were, the not-quite-animals and the not-quite-machines, beings that were still heavily driven by their instincts or coding, but who had acquired the ability to go beyond and even downright against it. There was a word for them, although the beast-people were still denying it to the machine-people.

The word was “humans”.

(to be continued)

[geralehane]

lilies are red

It’s a horror/thriller love story. I’m not taking anything seriously lately. Enjoy. 

(tw: sexual abuse mention; child abuse mention. serial killer/vampire) patreon

***

M meets her by chance.

Pure luck, more like it. She’s fortunate enough to be where she is, on the rooftop of an old building near the docks, and the wind is blowing just right for her to catch the most deliciously intriguing mix of scents. The first note she picks up on, among the usual rotten fish and days-old urine aromas, is nervous, almost-giddy excitement. Almost like that of a child who’s told they’re nearing Disneyland and Mickey’s here to personally escort them to the castle.

The second note is death, and that’s what makes her lips curl in a smile both curious and confused. It’s a strong scent, too. Almost enough to overpower the glee filling her nostrils. Almost, but not quite. It doesn’t take her too long to figure out what the source is.

Last time she smelled so much death was when she worked in Maryland prison and dealt with death row inmates. Not because they were on a death row, but because they were on a death row, having enough blood on their hands to deserve the capital punishment. Even then, there were dozens of people giving off the smell. Right now, she sensed only one.

And they were happy. This, she has to see.

The dash to the other side of the roof takes a second. Something about running at full speed has always been exhilarating to M. The feeling increases tenfold when it’s done with a purpose of hunting a prey. And when it’s not a mere prey but another predator…

She considers jumping to the ground, but figures it would be too loud. Balconies it is. Her feet don’t make a sound as she quickly and stealthily climbs down to finally take a peak at a potential toy.

They are in the basement – because of course. A bit of a disappointment, really, but what they lack in imagination they more than make up with enthusiasm. It doesn’t require any effort on her part to break the rusty lock and chain of the long unused door. Must be another entrance from inside, she thinks absentmindedly as she slowly cracks it open and slithers inside.

The door groans at being suddenly and rudely awakened, and M curses inwardly as she flashes to the dark corner of the room, her speed making her nothing more than a blur to a human eye. For a short, naïve second she hopes her target hasn’t heard it, but she already knows she’s wrong.

It’s a young woman standing over the shivering, whimpering naked figure tied to a table. She’s silent as she snaps their head up and stares at the door M came through, her green eyes serious and sharp.

And it’s right there and then that M realizes she’s gone.

***

It’s months before she approaches her. Months full of obsessive, meticulous observation. She’s so busy studying and stalking that she often foregoes the hunt, settling for blood stocked in her fridge. Occasionally, she does snack on late passersby, but even then her mind is distracted.

All she can think about is Her. M does her best to not find out Her name. Strangely – if anything can even be considered strange when it’s about a vampire stalking a serial killer – strangely she wants to hear it from Her. For now, she’s content with calling Her just that.

She’s a vigilante – that’s the first thing M finds out about her. It has nothing to do with her morals – that’s the second thing she discovers. She settles for scum of the earth because no one will question their disappearance. Once they are found, no one will be fazed by the gruesome nature of their deaths. Most of the time, their gangs will find their corpses, and the police won’t ever know about their passing. It’s usually men, white, tall, dark-haired. M figures She has a type.  

She makes an exception for child rapists. Then, it doesn’t matter if they are a well-respected member of the society by day. Doesn’t matter if their death will shock the community, doesn’t matter that the police will more than likely be involved. Doesn’t matter what they look like. She’s particularly gleeful when she executes those. M wonders if it’s a personal thing.

And if she didn’t know she was in trouble, the white-hot rage blinding her whenever she thinks of that would be a glaring sign.

She smells of death, and sometimes, she smells of pain, when she looks at the photo of the woman M guesses to be long dead. M wonders if She killed her. The sour notes of remorse wafting off Her in waves tell her as much. From that alone she guesses the woman was important. The woman was held dear. The woman had the love M’s surprised She’s capable of.

Then why, she inevitably thinks, did you kill her?

She wonders if that has something to do with child abusers. She wonders a lot these days.

Until one day, she can’t wonder anymore. She has to know. She has to know Her and she has to have Her know her back.

It’s a special kind of a tainted love that burns and destroys, and she craves that.

***

She wants to make a great first impression. So, naturally, she prepares a gift for Her. Fitting, she thinks as she glances at the calendar and laughs at the date she sees.

M doesn’t have to look far to find the right candidate. If she cared about the humankind, she’d find it sad. He’s a devoted father and husband, and he had a total of five girls locked in his basement, one after another, over the past two years. His wife supplied three of them. And M might be an honest to God monster, but she doesn’t want to think what could’ve happened to their daughter had she not found them before she’s reached the ripe age of ten.

She curiously finds it incredibly difficult to abstain from ripping their throats out herself.

Leaving clues for Her to pick up on isn’t difficult at all. For some reason, she doesn’t want to go the easier route of compulsion. This is much more interesting and that much more exhilarating. Besides, watching Her piece everything together is both adorable and impressive.

It’s only a matter of very little time before She gets to the hunt. It’s more or a trap, really – She breaks into their house to prepare it for their arrival. She picks their bedroom – somehow, M knew she would, and she can’t stifle an amused giggle when She soundlessly opens the door, only to drop Her instruments as she stops in her tracks, mouth slightly hanging open in disbelief.

M pointedly clears her throat and laughs again, louder, when She flinches and tenses up. Their eyes finally meet, and M has to clear her throat again, this time for a whole different reason. “You like?” She asks, her melodic voice a surreal sound in the dead silence of the room, save for heavy breathing of two drugged people.

She doesn’t answer for several seconds as she quickly takes everything in. When She does speak, her voice is raspier than usual, tinted with tension. M shifts from one foot to another, trying to suppress the hot flash of need surging through her body. “I don’t do gifts.”

M has to laugh at that. She’s aware that She’s carefully watching her while her head is thrown back and laughter is spilling out in loud waves. At one point, she’s almost certain She’s about to lunge for her throat, but it doesn’t happen. Instead, she speaks again.

“What do you want?”

M shrugs. “I thought that was kind of obvious.” When She doesn’t budge, only raising her brow higher, she sighs. “I’m a fan of your work. Remember that night – the basement by the docks?”

Green eyes narrow and then widen with realization. “So there was someone there.”

“You looked very cute running around and trying to find me,” M giggles as she cocks her head to the right, staring at Her with unabashed, curious hunger. She still smells delicious, even though there’s a lot of tension and worry. Yet, She’s not panicking. She’s not afraid, either, and M loves that.

“But I didn’t,” She says slowly. “I didn’t find you. Which is impossible. You couldn’t have hidden somewhere because there was nowhere to hide. How did you do that?”

“You’re asking great questions, but there are too many of them,” M comments lightly. “Every relationship should have a healthy dose of mystery, you know.” She glances at the prey that begins to stir as they slowly come to it. She follows her gaze, jaw clenching when she sees that, too. “Have fun,” M murmurs, and She looks at her again, a crease of her brow deepening. Good. She wants Her to see this. “See you soon, love.”

She wishes she could have taken a picture of Her bewildered expression when she jumps out the window in a flash. That’s a memory she’ll cherish forever.

***

For the next several weeks, she keeps showering Her with presents, and She unsuccessfully tries to hunt her down. M finds it endearing. One night, acting completely on instinct, she leaves a note behind after her usual breaking and entering routine. When she comes back the next night, She’s nowhere to be found, and her note is neatly placed on the bed.

‘You’re pretty when you sleep. M’

Right under it, there’s Her handwriting:

‘You’re creepy, but I like your style.’

She yawns when she easily sidesteps Her attempt at ambushing her from behind. When She jumps to her feet again and rushes at her head on, M grasp her wrist and twists, raising her brow as she eyes the syringe in Her hand. “You saw me run at the speed that cannot possibly be human, and you thought: ‘hey! nothing a little ketamine can’t fix’?” She asks sardonically as she pushes Her away, causing Her to fall on Her back.

She grins, and M hates how disarming that grin is. “I had to try to make sure I wasn’t going insane.”

M gives her a pointed look. “Going insane? Darling, your hobby is killing people. You might be of sound mind, but you’re not exactly normal, either.”

“Look who’s talking.” She’s still smirking, and She hasn’t made any moves to get up yet. On the contrary, she leans back, propping herself up on her elbows as she studies M with curiosity. “Since it doesn’t seem like you’re going to kill me any time soon, can I ask you a couple of questions?”

M shrugs. “Depends on the questions.”

“You said it yourself. I ask great questions.”

“You’re also annoyingly full of yourself,” she notes, but it’s more amused than irritated, and She picks up on that.

“First one is fairly simple. Who are you?”

“A vampire.” M chuckles when Her brows fly up.

“Okay,” she says, slowly. “That’s – I think we’ll deal with this one later. Did you destroy the evidence so I wouldn’t be the suspect anymore?”

“Yes.” M lazily looks at her nails. “You should really consider changing your modus operandi, by the way. It’s a little sloppy.”

“It’s not. I just lost a hair. It happens.”

“You also left a bunch of fingerprints all over the place,” M points out as she sits on the floor in front of Her, legs crossed. “I had to compel several detectives and officers so your ass wouldn’t end up in jail. Would be a shame since you have a nice one.” She grins when she smells a sudden spike of embarrassment and arousal.

“Thanks,” She utters, sounding unsure whether She should take it as a compliment. M licks her lips.

“Don’t mention it.”

“Why are you so interested in me?”

“You smell delicious.”

“So you do want to eat me.”

M’s grin grows bigger as she anticipates another wave of Her intoxicating scent. “And I wouldn’t mind if you reciprocated.” Just like she expects, her nostrils are bombarded with Her desire.

“Do you…” She trails off, chuckling, as if she finds the idea ridiculous. “Do you like me?”

“That is so very sweet,” M murmurs, stretching like a big cat while her eyes never leave Hers. “I want you, darling. I want you all to myself.”

“If you wanted to kill me, I’d be long dead, wouldn’t I be,” it’s more of a statement. And M wholeheartedly agrees with it. She nods, with a naughty smirk, and She lets out a breath, shaking her head.

“So if I wear garlic around my neck, would that help me?”

M laughs. “I think the right question is – would you want that to help you?”

She watches her, still guarded, but more relaxed than before, as M begins to slowly crawl towards her. “I don’t usually put out on the first date, you know,” She says, with a small smile.

“You also don’t do gifts, yet you enjoyed every single one of mine,” M whispers. She’s close. So close, but she can’t have Her without learning Her name first.

It’s fate, she thinks, when She speaks up. “Can I at least get your name?”

“I already gave it to you. It’s M.”

“Just M?”

“Yes. Now you.”

Green eyes sparkle. “I thought you already knew everything there was to know about me.”

“Not everything.”

She hesitates, for the longest second, before glancing down at her lips and meeting her gaze again, eyes alight with something akin to determination. “Lily.”

“Lily.” Her name rolls off M’s tongue like a drip of honey, and she inhales the air she doesn’t need as she tastes it, savoring the sweetness of it. Lily. Pure and innocent; everything She isn’t. Everything neither of them are. “Lily.” She likes it. She loves it.

Lily’s lips taste as sweet as her name does. They are warm, almost hot, and M can’t hold back a moan when an expert tongue snakes its way inside her mouth and swirls.

When they break apart, gasping for air almost doesn’t feel like pretending for the sake of it. “We,” she pants, “are going to have so much fun.”

“I’m just curious which one tries to kill the other first,” Lily murmurs, brushing her fingers through M’s blonde locks and making her giggle.

“Let’s bet.”

Lily’s eyes are wide and hungry as she watches M lick her lips. “Later,” she breathes, tugging her down. The last thing M thinks about before her mind goes blissfully blank are monsters of different kinds and their chances at finding solace in each other, and the chances of them not slaying each other first. Perhaps, even monsters deserve love, no matter how twisted it inevitably ends up being.

Perhaps – but then, Lily’s greedy hands are under her shirt and her teeth are sinking in her skin, and maybe, just maybe, they are already okay, and nothing needs to be fixed because nothing is broken anymore.

Maybe.

[wewillwriteyou]

Friends Will Be Friends || Chapter 13

A few elements from the main plot: A very special group of friends: early days, drama, laughter, booze, success, rock stars life, girl power, friendship, love, sex, music, misunderstandings, some more drama, family. Pairings in the tags

Summary Chapter 13: The concert in Peterborough, December 1973. The after party.

Word count: 3.8K

Warnings: There’s a little smut in this one (kissing, touching, mention of sexy times and blah blah, nothing strong), language, drinking

A/N: Hi folks. This happens right after chapter 12 and it’s a bit long, but it explains some of the stuff we have knowingly spared to tell you before. So be careful and enjoy yourselves, lovesies 💖😏 As usual, if you like what you read, comment, like, reblog and share this with others! For everyone who follows and supports this story, thank you guys (you know who you are)! You are real stars! ⭐💗

"I'm telling you, Mel! He was all red and self-conscious, I’ve never seen him like that!” Chelsea was widely gesturing, trying to explain to her friend the awkward scene she had witnessed the previous night. They were sitting on some sound boxes scattered on the stage the boys would have performed on in a few hours: they were in Peterborough, Cambridgeshire, for the last gig of the year and of their tour.

Everyone was excited for that night: the girls were thrilled of having their boys at home for a few weeks before they headed back in the studios to record the new album. The guys were thrilled to conclude their second official tour and, of course, to spend some time away with their girls: they had booked some suites in a hotel in Peterborough for the whole week from Christmas Eve's eve until New Year's Day so that they could have spent both Christmas and New Year’s together and, just as Freddie had requested, throw a huge party.

“I wish I had been there Chel! I don’t know what I would give to go back and see his face” Mel chuckled, picturing Brian trying to disappear inside his curls. And she surely would have liked to meet this mysterious lady who had made Brian May blush.

“Well, if we’re lucky we might see her again… He invited her here”

“No way!” they both giggled like little girls

“What’s so funny girls?” Brian came on stage to tune his Red Special.

The girls exchanged a sly look, Mel got up and dangling on her feet she got closer, looking at him through her lashes “Nothing Bri”

Brian narrowed his eyes, wondering why the hell was she grinning so wide and why the heck Chelsea had the same wide smirk on her face as she sat five feet apart, biting her thumbnail innocently.

“You told her didn’t you?” he snorted at Chelsea; the girl looked away nonchalantly

“You brat” he breathed out. Chelsea pretended to be offended and gasped.

Mel was still looking at him “This girl actually stole your heart, didn’t she?”

Brian moved his attention to her and scoffed “I wouldn’t say that… I just thought she was very pretty and she was very kind to me, so yeah… I flushed, big deal uh?”

Mel smiled fondly “Look at you all flustered just thinking about it!” she pinched his cheek and he waved her hand away, the edge of his lips lifting in a half smile. He knew Melissa could not be any more right: he had been completely starstruck by that red-headed girl and he couldn’t make his head around it.

“I’m not gonna see her again anyway, so…” he admitted more to himself than to her.

“Didn’t you invite her here?”

Brian turned to fulminate Chelsea one more time but she had disappeared. Brian sighed. They were alone and he knew he could trust Melissa with anything “I did, but she lives all the way on the other side of England… Let’s say my hopes are really low right now”

Melissa smiled again “You never know, Bri. The universe works in mysterious and unspeakable ways… It might just surprise you”

Brian let out a quick laugh “C’mon Mel, we’re scientists… aren’t we supposed to be a bit more objective?”

“Maybe… but we are allowed to hope we are actually headed somewhere, aren’t we?” she gently caressed his arm “Just, have a little faith in the universe. It knows what it’s doing.”

She gave him a little smile before stepping away and heading behind the scenes. Before going off stage she turned one more time “It worked for me” she said and Brian smiled warmly. He felt sincerely more hopeful, but he forced himself not to think about her too much. He was too damn scared to be let down again.

Melissa passed through the thick black curtains and walked down the few steps, heading towards the dressing rooms. She was still smiling from her conversation with Brian over science and belief in the universe. Science. Physics. Job. Her mind quickly connected those dots and she sighed to herself: she had to talk to John.

Earlier that month she had applied to a research committee at the Imperial – the college where she was studying – and just a few days before she and the girls had left home to meet the guys in Taunton, she had received a call from the head of the department: they had accepted her.

For some reason she had not told anyone yet, maybe she was afraid of jinxing it. But the research committee would have started working just a few weeks into January and would have lasted at least until June and then from September to November if they gained good results. Which meant she couldn’t leave London for at least six months straight and she couldn’t follow the guys on tour as much as she had done in the past year and a half.

She knew this was a big shot for her and she couldn’t be more thrilled, but she couldn’t help but feel a bit sad that she would have ended up being the one left out.

Besides she didn’t want to spoil everyone’s fun just a few days before Christmas by bothering them with her worries, especially John. But her mind kept on coming back to that and it was driving her crazy. She had to talk to John. She had to hear his comforting words.

As she opened the door to John and Roger’s dressing room her eyes fell on the two tangled figures making out on the sofa.

"Oh my God, guys! Keep it down!” she shouted at Roger and Chelsea, covering her eyes with one hand, the other still on the handle, ready to close the door.

Chelsea flushed and giggled in embarrassment, while Roger laughed out loud at his sister’s reaction.

“What did you think we were doing? Holding hands?” he chuckled.

Mel snorted still not looking at them “I was looking for John, you doofus”

“He’s not here” Roger stated the obvious.

"Well, you don't say" she was about to slam the door when she heard Chelsea shouting that John was looking for her too.

Just as Mel turned around, closing the door behind her, she saw her boyfriend coming up to her with a big smile on his face.

“Hey sweetie” she gave him a little kiss “you were looking for me?” he asked.

“Just wanted to say good luck for tonight” she placed her hands on his shoulders, leaned in to find his lips and kissed him passionately.

John pulled away and smiled “Someone’s in the mood?”

She smirked and gave him a light peck on the cheek “Just a good-luck-kiss”

John chuckled “I’m not sure that’s a thing hon’” he managed to say between kisses.

“You guys are so mushy-slushy. It was cute at first, but now I wonder if I’m getting diabetes” Mary walked past them, rapidly heading to Freddie’s dressing room.

John chuckled and Melissa reached out to playfully slap her bum as she passed beside her. Mary mouthed an ‘ouch’ before disappearing into the stall.

John shook his head “We are pretty sappy, aren’t we?” he leaned in to kiss her again, a smile still on his face.

“Yeah but it’s sweet” Mel replied between kisses. John was directing her to his dressing room but Mel halted him.

“I wouldn’t go in there. Rog and Chel already going at it and I’m thrilled by the idea of making out right on the couch right next to my brother” Mel chuckled.

John let out an embarrassed chuckle and took her hand, dragging her through the corridors. They were giggling and stumbling in their feet until they reached an unused stall and John closed the door behind them. He turned around and smirked at the girl, making her softly chuckle.

“You are a dork” she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed the tip of his nose.

John smiled and laced his arms around her waist, while slowly directing her to the table in the middle of the room “We’ll see about that, honey” he said with a nifty smirk. He glided his hands to her thighs and lifted her up so that she could sit on the table, while he placed himself between her legs.

She squealed and softly giggled before kissing him again. She knew perfectly well that she was only pushing forwards the conversation they had to have.

Melissa regretfully pulled away, placing a hand on John’s chest, who was trying to inch further, hands on her thighs and a longing smirk on his face.

“John, I need to tell you something” she looked down and the smile died down on his face.

“What’s wrong Mel?”

“Nothing, honey” she gently cupped his cheek “I just need to tell you this because I’ve been holding back too long. I got a small temporary job as a researcher at the Imperial…”

“What? That’s great Mel!” he immediately hugged “it’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is” she sadly smiled “I have my first shift on the 14th, and I’ll be working 5/7 until June. Then again, if everything goes as planned, from September to November”

“But…”

Mel sighed “But that means I won’t be able to see you most of the year.”

John realized she was probably right. They had some songs ready to be recorded and had booked the recording studio for January and February. Then the plan was to tour for about a month in the UK to present the new album and in April, if everything had gone their way, they would have flied to America for a two months tour. Then again some recording in the summer and another tour throughout the autumn.

Mel was sadly looking at her hands, maybe regretting telling him just before what was supposed to be a joyful occasion. John noticed how miserable she was and quickly lifted her chin up to look into her eyes

“It’s gonna be fine Mel,” he softly said with a smile “we’re gonna find a way of seeing each other, honey”

He lightly kissed and then added “And I want you to know I’m so proud of you for getting this job. You deserve it.”

Mel smiled and shook her head “What did I do to deserve you, Deacon?”

John lifted an eyebrow “Deacon? That’s new…”

She smirked and drew him closer “What? You prefer John Richard Deacon? It’s a bit long to say everyti-”

“Stop talking”

She couldn’t finish because John crushed his lips into hers. She smiled into the kiss and wrapped her arms behind his neck. Melissa thought to herself that John was really good – maybe even too good – at making her stop worrying about things. He always knew what to say and how to react at every single worry she would expose him.

“You know you can’t kiss your way out of everything, right?” she managed to say between kisses.

John playfully smirked “We’ll see about that, honey”

***

The crowd applauded one last time. Brian put down his guitar to join the others upstage and bow to the audience. As he stood there, between Roger and Freddie, he tried to scoop the crowd with his eyes, hopeful to see a mass of red curls.

When he didn’t he felt a staggering pain in the chest; he was more disappointed than he cared to admit. Mel’s little speech on hope and universe and all that crap had actually made him more delusional than he would have wanted to be.

He stumbled behind the curtains of the stage and went straight into his and Freddie’s dressing room, careless of the interrogative faces of the girls and the crew that were waiting for them. When he heard someone screaming that the bus had just arrived to take them to the hotel, he didn’t even bother to change his clothes. He just picked up his bag and Freddie's and headed to the back door of the building.

He wasn’t sure whether he was sad or angry or disappointed. Maybe he was all three at the same time.

He climbed onto the bus and sat in the front, waiting for all the party of people to come up. When he exchanged looks with Melissa, she gave him a sad smile. He didn’t return the smile and looked another way: it wasn’t her fault but he could feet a gulp of rage coming from his deep throat and he knew if he had opened his mouth, he would have thrown it up all over her.

When they arrived at the hotel, his first impulse was to run as fast as he could to his bedroom to avoid any other possible human contact who could invite him to the band’s Christmas party. Freddie had invited a lot of people but Brian could not stand the idea of standing among his friends. He normally didn’t care that they were three couples and he was the only single one (Roger had tried many times of fixing him up with girls he knew but Brian had always kindly refused).

That evening, however, he thought he could have thrown up at the sight of them being happy as ever and him being alone and, what was more, “dumped” by the only girl he actually wanted to see.

He walked fast into the lobby and asked for the key to his room. The receptionist cordially obliged and as he turned to go upstairs he caught with the glimpse of an eye a mass of curly red hair getting up from the bar and running toward Melissa and Roger.

Brian felt his chin touch the ground. Chrissie.

“Chris! Oh my God! What are you doing here?” Mel exclaimed hugging the redhead tightly.

The girl chuckled and stumbled on her feet, overwhelmed by the energy the blonde put into the hug.

“I wanted to see you guys! I actually was at last night’s concert but didn’t get to say hi. So when they told me you had one more gig, I rushed up here”

“And you rushed up here just to see me and Mel?” Roger asked cockily.

She laughed and turned to hug him tightly as well “It’s good to see you, Chris. It’s been too long”

Chelsea was helping John and Freddie with some bags but it didn’t slip her eyes the way Roger looked at Chrissie and the way she hugged him. Don’t be ridiculous, she must be just a friend, she said to herself, trying to ignore the peak of jealousy staggering her stomach. She focused on the packing and missed the rest of the conversation, her eyes forced on what she was doing and not on the way Chrissie was holding Rog’s hands.

“It is… we have so much catching up to do!” she said enthusiastically, still holding Roger’s hands “But I must say, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for your guitarist… Brian, I think…” Chrissie tried to play it cool, pretending not to know that his name was indeed Brian and, more importantly, pretending that she hadn’t rushed to Peterborough, Cambridgeshire, just to see him again. And of course, to catch up with Melissa and Roger, she thought. Oh, c’mon you don’t even believe it yourself.

Brian still had his chin on the ground, but when he heard her say his name he startled out of his trance and stepped closer to the small group, clearing his throat to introduce himself.

When Chrissie laid her eyes on him and smiled warmly, Brian’s heart skipped a beat. How the hell did she manage to make his mind blank out of any reasonable – or at least normal - thing to say?.

“I see you made it, at last, Chrissie” he managed to say.

Chrissie felt a rush of electricity throughout her body, hearing him say her name. She nodded and quickly hugged him, as a way of greeting him. It was an embarrassed hug from both parts and when they pulled away they both giggled and looked down, flushing.

Mel and Roger exchanged knowing looks and Mel had to bite down her lip, realizing that Chrissie was the girl Chelsea had told her about. Brian and Chrissie looked immensely cute, standing there and looking everywhere but at each other.

Roger broke the awkward silence “Chrissie I hope you’re planning on staying the night, cause we’ve got a huge party waiting for us in the hall. Would you fancy joining us?”

Chrissie glanced at Brian, before turning to Roger and saying “I’d love to. But I have yet to book a room for the night… if you guys excuse me one sec-”

Roger placed an arm on her shoulder and guided her towards the hall, Melissa and Brian two steps behind “I sense you won’t be needing one, dear” Brian flushed and slapped him on his head, making Roger loudly cackle. Melissa covered her mouth to contain her laughter, earning a cold stare from Brian as well.

***

The party didn’t turn out to be that huge anyway. A hundred people, more or less. Mostly from the band's crew, a few of the hotel’s guests and some friends of the band. Quite a lot of people for a Christmas party in the three-star hotel of a small town, but not enough as Freddie had hoped.

As he walked through the crowd, saluting their guests and wishing Merry Christmas to everyone, he had Mary on his side, acting like the significant other she was. They walked up to John and Chelsea, who were enjoying their drinks by the curtained window.

“This party is a bummer” he breathed out, crushing on the nearest armchair.

“What are you talking about, Fred? Everyone’s enjoying themselves!” Chelsea rubbed his shoulder.

“Besides, it’s a great way of saying good-bye to the whole crew and wish them Merry Christmas” John added.

“I guess you’re right…” Freddie admitted “I just feel like there’s not enough booze and everyone is awfully… still”

The others chuckled, then Mary said, “Maybe it’s better not to have everyone hammered the day before Christmas… It’s fine, honey, relax” she gently rubbed his shoulder and sat on his lap to wrap an arm around his shoulder to kiss him gently.

Chelsea smiled and looked away, her eyes scooping the room to find her boyfriend who had apparently disappeared from her sight the moment she had left him at the reception with Brian, Chrissie and Melissa.

She hated to admit she felt some kind of jealousy. Unjustified jealousy, at that. Is it unjustified? she couldn’t help but wonder. She trusted Roger obviously, but a part of her still feared he could get sick of being her boyfriend and could realize he preferred going back into the one-night-stand game. She shoved down the last drops of her flute and furrowed her eyebrows as the alcohol lingered down her throat.

John noticed she was upset, so he placed a hand on her elbow to stir her away from Mary and Freddie.

“Are you okay?” he simply asked.

Chelsea forced a smile “Sure. I’m fine”

“Doesn’t seem like it”

“Doesn’t seem like your business” she mocked him, then realized what she had said and to whom she was talking to.

“I’m sorry, John. I’m a bit dizzy and… upset. Dangerous combo” she let out a forced laugh “but I don’t think I want to talk about it”

John studied her face. She had been upset since they had arrived at the hotel, almost an hour earlier. He knew he was on risky territory, but he needed to know,

“Did Roger do something to upset you?”

“How did you-” she started, but then corrected herself “No, he didn’t… I’m just wondering where he is” She decided to say.

John wasn’t convinced “Chel, you know you can talk to me, right?”

Chelsea turned to him and smiled, sincerely this time “I know,”

She sighed. Oh, what the hell, this is killing me.

“Do you know who this Chrissie is?” she asked, maybe more brutally than she had intended.

John scoffed “So that’s what this is all about…”

Chelsea smacked his upper arm “I’m not jealous, jerk”

“Never said you were…” John grinned “Look Chel, I actually have no idea who the hell Chrissie is but I have to say, if – and let me stress if – you’re a teeny tiny jealous, it’s not worth it. Roger would literally die – or better kill – for you. I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about”

He smiled at his best friend and when he saw her smiling slightly back, he felt he had done something good. He wasn’t sure he was right, though. He had felt the urge to reassure Chelsea, but deep down he feared she might be right to be jealous. He decided to keep those thoughts to himself and just warmly smile at her, promising to himself he would have done anything to spare her from any suffering.

If there was something he was sure of, it was that he would have done anything for two of the most important women in his life: Chelsea and Melissa.

In the exact moment he thought about her, she appeared in his sight, cheeks red and glittery eyes – probably from the alcohol she had ingested. She was stumbling towards them, anchored to who he identified as Chrissie and followed by Roger and Brian.

The four of them completed the circle of the small group. They all looked at each other, no-one knowing what to say. Roger broke the silence “For those who haven’t met her yet, this is Chrissie” he pointed at the redheaded girl between him and Melissa “we had some classes together in high school and she used to hang around a lot with us” and he indicated himself and Melissa.

Chrissie shook hands with everyone she hadn’t met yet and when it came to Chelsea she said “I know you! You were the girl who was helping Brian last night. Chelsea, right?”

Ugh, she’s nice. Chelsea nodded “Yeah it was me, good to see you again” she forced herself to smile politely, repeating John’s words inside her head.

“Now that we are all here,” Freddie started, getting up and gesturing to the waiter to bring them some more flutes of wine “I propose a toast”.

When they all had a glass in their hands, Freddie looked around to the group of people standing in front of him. Roger had crossed the small circle to reach Chelsea and wrap an arm around her shoulders and look her fondly in the eyes; John had his arm around Mel’s waist and she had rested her head on his shoulder; Chrissie was awkwardly standing a few inches in front of Brian but when Freddie made eyes at him, he slowly placed a hand on her shoulder and pulled her closer to him, so that they were now in some way hugged too; Mary was as always by his side, arms wrapped around his, head resting on his shoulder.

Freddie smiled, feeling his heart filling with joy at the sight “To us”.

Chapters: ⤎ previous | next ⤏ 

A/N: Hello again! Hope you enjoyed this one 💗 we’re gonna tag the lovely people who read, liked and commented the previous chapters. If you want to be tagged in the next one, comment under this one or leave us a message. Our inboxes are always open for you beautiful people

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[princesssarcastia]

Cassandra Cillian: Hitter

this is titled “you don’t have to be a ghost here amongst the living” because I was going through a F+TM phase when I started writing it.  

remember like, a year and a half ago when I planned out a librarians-leverage fusion (and also a leverage-librarians fusion?) because I do!  And I finished the first bit.  

here’s 3k of not!fic about how Cassandra Cillian starts down the road to being a legend. 

              ________________________________________________________

my first concrete though when I started daydreaming about this was “oh my god Cassandra is the hitter”

no, really

I blame the apple of discord episode. her analysis of force needed to kick ass and take names and initiate a nuclear meltdown makes her perfect.  utterly ruthless, just hiding under a cutesy facade instead of Eliot’s dumb-hick one

with the tumor in her head ticking down, down, down to zero, her self-preservation is pretty low.  not necessarily in a death wish way, not yet.  but when she fights there’s no holding back, and no fear of what the other person can dole out.  what could they possibly do to her that she isn’t already doing to herself?  death looks like Cassandra Cillian staring in the mirror.

I’m willing to negotiate about anything else you find here but this.  in this house we stan Cassandra as the hitter in the leverage fusion au.

all this begs the question, of course: how does sweet cinnamon roll math geek Cassandra Cillian become a mean lean recently reformed killing machine?  and this is where our story begins.

Cassandra Cillian is a teenager who’s just been told she’ll never see the other side of 35.  there’s a tumor sitting in her brain sending her senses haywire, giving her visions that break down every aspect of the world around her to the smallest components.  math isn’t just like breathing, anymore: it’s her heartbeat.  even though its killing her, she can’t help but enjoy it a little. and it’s not just math.  everything around her is worth noticing, studying, learning.  the doctors are calling it hyper-vigilance, like her new fascination with her surroundings is just a way to channel all her rage and grief into something she can control; like since she can't cut her death out of her brain she’s going to make damn sure that nothing else gets to get near her without her consent.

they’re probably right, but she’s not going to admit that. all she knows is that the way her senses are linked to each other and her visions, there’s not a goddamn thing going on around her she doesn’t notice and catalogue immediately.

the next step, of course, is her shitty parents.  when they hear the news it’s like Cassandra’s already dead.  they take away her trophies, all those shiny pieces of proof that she was worth something, that mom and dad were proud of her sometimes, gone.   the pair of them loved their dreams for their daughter more than the person she was, and those dreams had just been crushed.  they pull her out of school, because her visions were “a disruption to the other students”

no one needs the crazy dying chick breaking down in the middle of calculus crying with a nosebleed, apparently.

maybe she could have lived with this.  maybe, in another life, another world, she could have buried all of her hopes and dreams deep inside herself and forgotten about it, until a man and a woman burst into the hospital looking to save her life (oh, the irony). this is not that world.

instead Cassandra gets furious.  

how dare they decide her whole life is over just because this tumor is going to cut it short.  how dare they take away everything they said made her special: her grades, her stem fairs, her college applications. no; no, they don’t get to do this.

so she runs away.  seventeen years old and in the wind.  fine.  if they won’t help her live her life, she’ll do it on her own.

she lands in Boston eventually.  crossing state lines helps confuse jurisdiction over her missing persons case, if her parents even decide to file a police report.  hiding in a larger city decreases her odds of being found, because cities are big places. easy to get lost in, to find a job in, and everyone seems to have a rule about asking questions.

where in Boston, you might ask, does Cassandra end up staying? where does she work?

well, funny story, actually

She ends up working at John McRory’s Place

god this is so long I'm sorry

it turns out mob bars don’t ask too many questions about why a just-18 young woman with no emergency contact needs a job.  Cassandra just gives them her bright, fake smile and says she's applying for classes at the local college and means to pay her own way.  they respect her secrets and her work ethic, and voila! a job busing tables and occasionally manning the bar when the owner has special customers to see to in the back room

her bright red hair and Irish heritage don’t hurt, either

it’s not an Ivy League school, nothing like what she imagined her future would be a year ago, but it’s something, which is more than she’d be getting at home.  all it took was a request for records from her old high school, some placement exams to confirm her genius level intellect, and the college was giving her a spot in their line of incoming freshmen.  

even with merit scholarships, tuition is a bitch to pay for.  it gets worse once she has another attack and needs some of her funds to go to the hospital bills, and the drugs the doctors there prescribe her.

Cassandra expects her boss to kick up a fuss at all that time missed, but he waves her off with a kind smile and says she can take all the time she needs to get back on her feet, because he’s never had someone so smart working for him before (she helps out with the accounts for the bar, sometimes)

one night after she starts back to work, it’s late, and the bar is empty of everyone except the Irish.  they’ve taken over the pub and the territory surrounding it.  Cassandra is cleaning up, closing down the unused tables and being as unnoticeable as she can

because let’s face it, she is not stupid.  by now, she knows exactly what’s going on here.  and maybe before it would have bothered her more, maybe her principles and respect for the rules would have had her out the door.  but she needs this job so she can continue her classes and pay rent on the space above the bar (which she’s getting at a discounted rate), and pay for her pills and the occasional overnight in the hospital.  besides, the owner is kind, even if his friends aren’t quite so nice, and his little girl is adorable.

anyway.  the Irish are here, letting off steam and worried, because their “accountant” just got put in jail.  everyone in the Family is prepared to play patsy, but losing an enforcer is nothing compared to losing the guy who keeps track of their money, their lifeblood.  those people aren't a dime a dozen, and pretty soon the Irish won’t have two nickels to rub together if they don't find someone new fast.

and cassandra just.  pauses.  just for a moment.  glances up to meet old McRory’s eyes behind the bar, just for a minute.  because.... she could do that.  Cassandra started balancing her father’s accounts for him when she was twelve, and they were hardly middle class: the Cillian’s had money in savings, but also tied up in investments and stock, and assets, too.  but that was nothing to her mind.  she could do it in her sleep near the end. hell, she’s been helping John with the bar’s funds for two months now, and not all of their revenue was clean , but she kept her mouth shut then and made the numbers work.

John wasn’t exactly a member of the Family, but he was a, a Friend of the Family.  so when she nods at him, I can do it, I need the money, just give me a chance, he casually picks up a glass to clean and mentions that she’s got a head for numbers, if they’re really that desperate

they are.

they take her to Callaghan, and he might be a little charmed by her bubbly smile and her red hair, but what really gets him is the way it takes her thirty minutes to decipher the codes the old accountant used for the ledgers, balance them out, shift funds between businesses and make sure to account for the statistical probability of amounts of cash-paying customers they can make up for car washes, bars, laundry mats, mattress firms, and movie theaters.  

that’s how she becomes the numbers guy for the Irish mob.  

Cassandra was never going to be Eliot, running away to the military with god in her heart and a flag on her shoulder and becoming disillusioned with doing dirty work for her country.  she needed to get slowly pulled into the criminal underworld.  I figured Irish mob was a good way as any to start, and what better way to pull her into that then math?

she spends some time doing that.  becoming more and more involved.  and she’s cute, like a little puppy, so the others like her.  enough to maybe give her a few self-defense lessons, because this is a dangerous life she’s leading now.

they go...okay??  taking care of her body is one of the first things the doctors recommended to her when she started getting sick, so she’s already in pretty good shape.  It’s just the basics at first; keep your thumb outside your fist, always go for the throat first—Cassandra calculates that three fingers-width above the hollow in a person’s throat would be the best place to strike, because then their voice box gets damaged, too.  

None of the lessons ever go much further than that, because these are brawlers who prefer to use a gun to send a message.  Sometimes the way they move when they show her something tickles the back of her brain, like there’s more to uncover there, but she can’t figure it out until the first time a brawl breaks out in the bar

Two of their patrons start throwing punches right in front of her and suddenly their movements are all angles: she catalogues their weight and height and how drunk they are and how much force they’re putting behind their swings and just…neatly steps out of the way, perfectly avoiding getting elbowed in the face. This…this has never happened before.  But, like everyone always says: there’s math in everything.  Even fighting—especially fighting.

When it looks like the two men are going to start breaking chairs, she hesitates for a moment, but…the knee is a hinge joint.  Thirty pounds of pressure pushing it the wrong way will snap it; twenty-five will seriously damage the attached ligament.  She blinks. Steps up to the closest one.

He’s on the floor before John can make the corner of the bar, screaming his head off, and the other guy is backing away with wide eyes, shocked sober by fear.  Cassandra pulls back, letting her right foot settle behind her and point away from them, and balances on the balls of her feet for a moment.

John gives her a startled look, because she’s never done something like that before. Someone calls the guy’s friends to pull him up off the floor and drive him to the hospital

She grabs a rag to wipe up the mess they made of the counter and thinks.  Because that felt…good.  Really good. Using her hallucinations to dosomething, to affect the real world, gave her a rush of adrenaline and satisfaction.  Not just theory, like in her classes, but real application of the way she sees the world.

Like any good academic, she does her research (in her mind, this is ostensibly still for self-defense—just in case something like that bar fight happens again.  She ignores the giddy little voice in her head talking about how much fun this will be).  Her upper-body strength isn’t great, so something that uses joints and core muscles would be best.  Her size is a disadvantage, too: she can’t afford to go to the ground grappling with someone twice her height and weight.  She’s not looking to compete in a tournament, and she can’t afford to buy any equipment.  The best technique for her will probably be Krav Maga.  (For now, the excited voice in her head whispers)

Her search turns up a little studio on the west side of town that teaches Krav Maga to women for self-defense.  Perfect. The instructor, Miriam Epstein, was a course instructor for the IDF for twenty years before she immigrated to America and got certification from the KMAA.

Cassandra goes to observe a class before she signs up, and the moment she steps through the door her brain is set alight:  everything she sees goes a deep, brilliant hue of scarlet, finding the angles of their feet and arms and their centers of mass based on weight and height; herfoot is seven centimeters too far to the right and that strike would give hermore leverage if she moved three centimeters up from the elbow.  She has to stop for a moment to breathe and process all the information her brain displays in front of her.

That becomes the hardest part: not the constant exhaustion, or the bruises everywhere, or her aching muscles, but the overwhelming flow of information about body movements and the correct place to strike.

She is tired, though; working at the bar takes time, if not mental energy, and her classes take both. Add in balancing the ledgers for Callaghan and now these lessons twice a week, and the exercise she does on her own to keep up, and her schedule is completely full.

The Irish start letting Cassandra layer their funds, obscuring where the extra profits in their businesses came from.  Turns out she’s pretty good at that, too, though it’s not like it’s hard given they own a bank in Boston.  Loans are a great way to integrate funds, and their interest rates are always better than the next three competitors.  She tries not to think about the other differences, how the people she’s working for go to collect that debt.  

Construction is another great way to hide their funds, and from what Cassandra can tell from watching the stock market (which is considerably more than most people) real estate is on the rise.  When she carefully suggests that Callaghan try investing more money in that area, he actually listens to her.  Puts her theories and calculations into practice because he trusts her to be right.  

It feels almost as good as tearing that man’s quadriceps tendon.  Practical applications, she muses.  Sometimes she lets herself wonder how it would feel to take her theories all the way down the rabbit hole

Meanwhile, it only takes her four months to move to P2 in Krav Maga.  The average time spent practicing moves for each level is six months; she’s learning 33% faster than that.  Her muscles are adjusting better than she expected, and her skin stops bruising as easily, but she suspects she’ll always tire quicker than everyone else.

Miriam pulls her aside after class one day and asks why she hesitates so much when they practice moves on each other.  Nothing but the lightest sparring, of course, and nothing dangerous.  But Cassandra can’t turn her brain off, and now that she’s starting to learn the more painful moves, she can’t help but see them every time she stands across from someone.  (thirteen pounds of pressure at 125 degrees from her back to hyperextend her arm; plant your foot six inches from her spine and pull to dislocate her shoulder; 3,300 newtons of pressure delivered at 1.5 seconds would have a 25% chance of cracking her rib and sending a fragment into her lungs.  All this would take less than thirty seconds)

None of this makes it past her lips, but she thinks maybe Miriam can see it in her eyes.  We’re moving on to fighting armed opponents next week, she says, maybe you’ll feel more comfortable with that than basic strikes and take-downs.  She taps the side of her head in farewell and Cassandra tastes copper and sees the spot on her temple where the cranial bone is weakest; a quick jab with the second knuckle of her index finger extended could put her on the ground.  Shaking her head, she dislodges the scarlet diagram and shoves down the curious voice of, but you could do it, you could actually do it.

In another four months she’s at P3, and Callahan is actively seeking out her opinion about investments because she’s been right every time.  

Another four months and she’s almost 20 years old.  She’s almost gotten her degree in mathematics, somehow, even though she can’t qualify as a full-time student.  Part of it is the half-ton of college credit built up during high school, part of it is testing out of a third of their program when they wanted to place her, and the rest is just her ruthless pursuit of academia.  

Her attacks don’t become less frequent, or less powerful, but Cassandra still feels better.  Maybe it’s because she’s actually living her life on her own, even if it isn’t what she thought it would be; even if what she’s doing is wrong.  Because not only is she learning more, but she’s usingit.  She’s using her brain to dothings and affecting the world around her instead of just living in it. No matter what happens, no matter how much she changes in the years to come, she’ll treasure that.

Enter Lamia, stage right

See, Dulaque is Damian Moroe; boogeyman and semi-god of the criminal underworld.  You can’t spend more than six months involved with dirty money without hearing about the man who bankrolls terrorists and buys countries to launder his money through. He’s a legend, untouchable.

Almost as infamous is his right-hand woman, Lamia.  A trained killer with no hint of a past before she showed up as Dulaque’s chief…well, he’s too classy for the word enforcer, and so is she.  But if they were anyone else, that’s what she’d be. As it is, just a whisper of her name will send some grown men running to give up whatever she wants in exchange for safe passage.

And see, Dulaque has caught wind of the irish mob’s sudden financial success and wants to know how it’s happening.  Take advantage of it if it’s luck, invest in it if it’s skill, and perhaps recruit whatever or whoever is responsible into his own enterprise.

Lamia doesn’t always like to trade on her name, though, so she comes to Boston quietly, and investigates how the Irish are doing so well—not just in the American markets anymore

(Callahan called his friends in the old country and told them about the redheaded accountant with a genius-level intellect who could analyze the stock markets to a T; suddenly Cassandra had a whole lot more to balance than a few local business and investments. Suddenly, she’s the lodestone to an entire financial criminal empire that’s only growing.  And that little voice in the back of her head sighs in contentment as her reach extends, her area of effect getting bigger and bigger. Whenever the air in front of her lights up blue and smells like oranges, she smiles a little and hums, because this feels right.  Follow the money and see where it leads, all the way down)

It doesn’t take long before she finds John McRory’s place, where a petite little redhead still waits tables and occasionally mans the bar; locks up more often than not, now, because her place is right upstairs.

There are a couple ways she can do this.  She can go from the top down, approach Callahan and demand to speak with the girl. She can have her brought directly to Dulaque, where he can make an intimidatingly persuasive offer the girl won’t be able to refuse.  Or…

Her eyes are rather striking, in the warm light of the bar.  

After Lamia finds Cassandra Cillian, she spends another week watching her, and the girl is interesting.  Balancing all that money, layering and incorporating it in three different countries and seven different cities, would be too much for any one person.  And yet she seems to slot all that work neatly into her afternoon, after her classes at the local college and before her shift starts at the bar.  What really draws her attention, though, is that little studio she visits twice a week for “defense lessons.”  

Krav Maga is brutal and straightforward, a beautiful Frankenstein of a martial art that takes the easiest parts of a handful of the others and sharpens them into something dangerous.

Lamia sits in on one of the sessions.  The instructor she immediately pegs as former military, that’s a very distinctive stance, but the way the girl holds herself…now that, that’s something to watch out for.

P3 after less than a year of training is impressive, but not unusual enough to matter.  What matters is the way the girl locks her eyes onto the instructor while she demonstrates a move, all cold and calculating; the way her gaze flickers over her sparing partner’s feet, hands, arms, shoulders, hips, like she’s finding every angle and weak spot there is to be found.  

Finally, Lamia smiles as she hesitates just before moving into action.  Oh, that look.  Not fear of her opponent; fear of herself.  And buried beneath it, a bone-deep desire and curiosity. Ah, she thinks.  Gotcha.

Cassandra is smarter than probably everyone Lamia has ever met, so there won’t be any straight-up conning her into what she wants, and that visit to the hospital had been unfortunately enlightening, because threatening probably won’t work either.

Dulaque, she knows, will want the girl’s head for numbers.  And he’ll get it.  But perhaps if Lamia asks very nicely, he’ll let her keep Cassandra to herself for a little bit and show her what she could really be capable of.  A little push, someone to tell her it’s okay to crave that violence, and Lamia can have danger thrumming under her skin right next to those numbers in her brain.

She waits until the class is over, nods to the instructor, and walks up to her.  Cassandra squints at her face for a moment, but it isn’t long before a bright and surprisingly genuine smile breaks out.  “Hi!  You know, you look really familiar.”

Lamia smiles; it’s more of a smirk, really.  Lying is a bad idea, so, “I think you work at that bar I was in the other night.  What was it…”

“McRory’s?”

“Oh, yes, that’s it.  I was kind of surprised to see you here, actually, you don’t really seem the type.”

“Well, knowing how to defend yourself is important!”  God, everything about her is bright and bubbly, isn’t it?  It begs the question how much of that is real, and how much is a front, a persona.

“Anyway.”  Lamia holds out her hand.  “Lamia.”

“Cassandra.”  The girl takes it, and she makes sure to grip her hand warmly.

“Cassandra,” she rubs her thumb over the back of her hand and curls her lips.  When she leans forward, Cassandra does, too.  Neither of them lets go.  “Have a drink with me.” Not a question, not a demand.

Her eyes focus intently on Lamia’s, something like real happiness lingering around her mouth. “Yes.”

And so it goes.

[goodproofingwater]

Wildfire Records: Breaking America - Chapter Nine

Word count: 1859 Warnings: angstttttt Soundtrack: Bury A Friend - Billie Elish Press play when you see the *

*The shred of hope Victoria had been holding onto dropped with her stomach as she looked back over at the embrace, Josh’s arms still around Jess’s petite frame as they moved from one foot to the other. It would have been cute if this wasn’t a girl he had been with before, and although Victoria wasn’t a jealous person, the way that Jess was looking at her boyfriend was making her want to cry.

“Why did they break up?” She muttered, Andy and Danny looking from the situation to the redhead and between themselves awkwardly.

“We came to England and she didn’t want to do long distance. They broke up about 3 months before we flew out.” It was clear that both men didn’t want to say anything that was going to show Josh or their relationship in a bad light, but with each new revelation Victoria felt the trust that she had in Josh slip further and further away. She hadn’t asked him about his ex’s because she hadn’t cared, but such a long relationship ending so soon before they started seeing each other should have been something that he brought up.

“He’s over her.” Danny spoke, seeming keen to reassure his friend with the volume, “they’re just… Jess hung out with us for a while before they were together. We went to school together and stuff…”

“Fantastic.” She swallowed thickly, grabbing her drink from where she had rested it on an amp and downing the thing in one. “Drinks?”

By the time Victoria had returned with a tray full of drinks, Jessica had already bought them another. Juliet’s eyes moved between the blonde and the red headed girls, deliberately taking the drink from Victoria and sipping it first. The redhead wanted to smile at the show of solidarity, but she was having trouble focusing on anything but the way Jessica’s hand rested on her boyfriend's arm. They were so animated together, her perfect Californian accent washing over words as she explained that she had decided to do a masters degree at university in Seattle, and as she looked around at her friends Victoria couldn’t help but feel bleak.

They all seemed to like her so much, seemed to respect everything she was saying and laugh at the personal jokes she was dropping into the conversation. Even Juliet was finding her charming, and as she stood between Josh and Andy she couldn’t help but feel small. Josh’s hand found her own after she had set her glass back down on the table for the third time, whiskey pumping hard through her veins as she struggled with a level of jealousy that she had never experienced before.

“You’re doing so well, I’m so proud of you Joshy…” the blonde girl spoke, her hand running along his arm as she looked from where his fingers entwined with Victoria’s up to the girl herself.

“And I hear that you are to thank. Valerie was it?” Victoria’s eyes narrowed at the deliberate attempt to undermine her, and any sense of the possibility of them being friends immediately dissipated.

“Victoria.” She spoke, Josh's hand pulsing against hers as her abrasive tone ran through him. The redhead's eyes darted to her boyfriends, and she clenched her jaw as she used picking up her glass as an excuse to let go of his hand.

“Right, Victoria.” Jessica nodded, her hand moving further around Josh's arm at the curve behind his elbow, a smile plastered on her lips which made the redhead's skin crawl. “You’re running the label which has made my boys so successful!”

Her tone, her choice of words and the glint of pleasure in her eyes was enough to rile Victoria up even more, and she wished more than anything that Josh had left marks on her neck when they had made love the previous evening.

“Juliet and I started wildfire when we heard them play, yeah. They’ve been doing incredibly well but we just put them in front of people.” Victoria sipped a glass which was mainly ice and smiled softly as she felt Danny’s soft nudge.

“You’ve done more than that, you’re both brilliant.” He spoke, and she smiled at him and Juliet before Jessica began to talk again.

“You must be brilliant, I was trying to get them out to people when they were over here and it just didn’t work. I suppose that might have something to do with America being so much bigger though” the undercut almost made Victoria laugh it was so brazen, and she nodded with false sincerity.

“Yeah, I suppose you need a good footing before you start selling out shows like they have on this tour. Helps if you have people who are actually experienced do it too.” Victoria chuckled bitterly and Jessica did the same, and when the blonde left with Andy to go and get more drinks, Victoria did everything she could not to pull herself further away from Josh.

“Are you okay baby?” The blonde boy spoke, his hands wrapping around her waist softly, obviously totally oblivious to what was happening. He was much more sensitive to flirting when they had been starting out, or at least it had seemed that way. Instead of causing a rift, Victoria went the opposite way, pressing forward toward her boyfriend as his arms held her close. Her nose ran softly against his as she let her eyes flutter closed, and she kissed him softly before she rested her forehead against his.

“Mhmm…” she spoke in response, nodding and biting her lip as his hands moved to grip her ass. “I’ll be better when we can get back to the bus though…”

“Can you guys please go somewhere else in the bus next time?” Andy spoke, placing a whiskey and coke in front of both her and Josh and the redheaded girl couldn’t help but chuckle, both at Andy’s words and the look on Jess’s face.

“Anywhere on the bus is gonna be loud…” Victoria grinned and Andy’s eyes flickered over her features, his mind darting to just how loud she had been when she had been him. He wasn’t oblivious to how Jess was acting with Josh, and how Josh was barely batting off the attention, and he was ashamed to say that he had let his mind wander to Victoria falling into his arms once more. He swallowed thickly as Josh ran his nose softly against his girlfriends and Victoria giggled.

“Andy I’m sure that you’ll be able to get your revenge…” Josh’s eyes darted around at the crowd, the girls who were obviously watching them and a particular one who had walked past in her short dress and eyed Andy at least three times.

“I’m sure I will…” Andy smirked, his eyes darting from the girl to his friend and he knew that he needed to shake off the cobwebs, be with someone else now that he was clean. He would never let anyone know, but he didn’t really know how to go about this without the drugs. He was glad to not be reliant on them anymore, but he did miss the confidence that coke forced over his every move. It felt like he didn’t really have to try, that the cocaine took over when he most needed to and he could take a step back and watch everything happen the way he wanted it to. Now that he didn’t have that, it was hard to even know where to start.

Victoria sipped her drink as she watched Jess take up her place next to Josh again, and just when Victoria was about to make moves to pull Josh away from the situation, he spoke.

“So what are you doing tomorrow night?” He asked excitedly, eyes darting to the way her hand sat on his arm once more and although he felt uncomfortable with Victoria standing right there, he also didn’t want to be rude.

“Tomorrow?” Jess pulled out her phone, her hand running absentmindedly up and down Josh’s arm and Victoria watched with an expression that obviously screamed get the fuck off as Juliet shifted to stand next to her friend, her hand on the small of Victoria’s back a reminder that she had her back. “Nothing, why?”

“You should totally come to our show in Olympia!” Josh spoke excitedly, and Victoria clenched her glass, “We have a spare bunk on the bus, you can just jump on there. It's only like an hour away right?”

“Two hours,” Victoria corrected him, her brow furrowing as she continued to fight with the jealousy that she was so unused to. The only time she had felt like this was when she had seen Andy and Lizzie in the green room and she had slapped Andy in the face then.

Josh’s brow furrowed at the tone once more, and he nodded, “Right, two hours. Just jump on the bus and we’ll give you a lift there. You can even come to the show in Portland after if you want ‘cause that’s only a few hours away, right?”

Victoria felt her insides twist at the thought of this girl being around for half of the tour. Would Josh continue to invite her until she was there the whole time? He obviously wanted to spend time with her, was obviously excited that she was around, and even though she had faith that their relationship was strong enough for this she couldn’t help but be worried.

“Sure, I mean.. I’ll bring my car so that I can drive back though.” She smiled at Josh, and the look between them made Victoria so uncomfortable that she stepped back, finishing her drink in one gulp.

“I’ll see you back on the bus..” She muttered, kissing Josh’s cheek and squeezing Juliet's hand as her friend gripped it.

Alone, she climbed into her bunk and sat with her back to the wall as she tried her best to swallow the jealousy that was running through every inch of her, wishing that Josh had at least told her that he and Jess had had such a long relationship. It was clear that she wasn’t over him, that they still had feelings for each other. Perhaps she had assumed that when he came home they would get back together, and if their relationship had ended purely because she had not wanted to do long distance Victoria couldn’t blame her.

She curled up in her bed and tried to force intrusive thoughts from her mind, tried to remember his arms wrapped around her as they had been the previous evening, how much love had been in his eyes as he held her. Instead, she dreamed of the situation as she feared it was. She was just a distraction while they were in England, and the future she had thought she had with Josh was just a dream that would never manifest.

He had never wanted her for that long, had never wanted her for anything but a rebound while he was in another country, and her heart broke as she dreamt of him making love to Jess in the venue that she had left.

[tothewaterhq]

ACCEPTED // HOLIDAY TRUEHART

capitol → stylist (in training) →  Dianna Agron fc

positive traits: creative, considerate, charismatic negative traits: sheltered, distrustful, spoilt

tw: exploitation, sexulisation

what made your character decide to become a stylist? As a child, she was always fascinated by makeup. Now that she’s older, experimenting with it is when she feels most like herself.

describe their style. what are their designs like? any particular colours/fabrics/ideas they’re drawn to? Old Hollywood. Red lipstick. Bold black eyeliner. Sequins. Long trains on dresses. Soft wavy hair.

bio:

Born to leading Capitol actress Lorelai Lovelace and her award-winning director of a husband Claudius Truehart, one could say that Holiday had no choice but to be in the spotlight. She was given her first role when she was less than a year old, playing the newborn daughter of a rival politician in the President’s official biopic Vote Snow.

Her childhood was a busy one. Mommy or Daddy or both were always working, and when Holiday wasn’t on a job she was still on set; sitting on her father’s lap as he yelled orders over her head, or trying on wigs in her mother’s dressing room. When Holiday experimented with make-up, it was professional product that was quickly snatched out of her fingers by disapproving stylists and make-up artists.

She continued to borrow it and experiment anyway.

After years of roles in movies such as Safe and Sound for Candlenights and Babysitting an Angel, in which Holiday always played the adorable little sister or the charming daughter of the leading character, the Capitol’s favourite child actress hit puberty.

Her parents panicked. An army of stylists were hired to keep her looking youthful for as long as possible. Her wardrobe was switched out with a new one comprising entirely of polka dots and tutus and other garments deemed too funky or cute to be sexualised, all modestly cut and youthful in style.

It only worked for a year or two. After a speculative article in a tabloid about her role as Revel Revlon’s kid sister in her father’s latest family movie (Can Claudius Truehart’s little princess really pass for ten years old these days?), Holiday was plucked out of the spotlight at the age of fourteen. She was forbidden from leaving the family mansion, forbidden to talk to anyone besides her parents and their household staff.

She was unused to the quiet.

Her parents bought her an easel and she took up painting. And when her pictures grew good enough to hang on the wall in the entrance to their mansion, they agreed to buy her some makeup to play with.

They also made her learn to play the violin. Because a lady never knew when that might come in useful.

Holiday’s style gravitated towards the looks she’d grown up watching stylists create on her mother; red lips, bold black eyeliner, hair in soft gentle waves.

Sitting in the dining room one night for dinner, Lorelai and Claudius realised they’d been coddling their daughter for too long. Across the table from them, with bold red lips and curled blonde hair; she had her mother’s looks, that much was plain.

She could be the next movie bombshell.

Holiday Truehart was given a whole new image and brought out of exile. Her first role as a new woman was the love interest in a sweet little rom-com called Plenty of Fish in Four. Holiday spoke to her make-up artists more than she ever had as a child, eager to learn any tips and tricks they could teach her.

Her first role in an R-rated film came two years later. My Night With a Victor featured Holiday’s very first nude scene, and it quickly became a selling point for the movie. Aged twenty, Holiday found her scantily-clad image on billboards and in magazines. It was a far cry from the adorable little photoshoots she’d been asked to do as a child.

Her head was spinning with the shock of it all, and to add to the confusion she caught wind of a rumour; My Night With a Victor was based on a true story. Of course, it had been romanticised, and any traces of unhappiness on the part of her handsome co-star’s character had been removed. But people were spending nights with victors.

She wondered if, maybe, they were being exploited too.

Her name was down for a second role with nude scenes, at her parents’ request, when her father unexpectedly dropped down dead. The coroner came to the conclusion that a lavish lifestyle full of rich food had finally caught up with him. The film industry mourned.

Holiday mourned, too- she’d loved her father dearly. But she mourned whilst hiring a lawyer to get her out of her latest project, and using her inheritance to buy an apartment as far away from the family mansion as possible.

She spent months trying to fade back into obscurity, but the public didn’t want to lose her a second time. Someone leaked her new address, and Holiday found herself the recipient of unwanted fan-mail. She realised quickly that her father had been sifting through it all her life, only passing on the less explicit messages to her in recent years.

Her life and her body no longer felt like her own. Holiday wondered if they ever truly had been. But how could she reclaim something that might never have been her own to begin with?

Remembering how happy she’d always been whilst playing with makeup, she signed up for a role training to be a stylist for the hunger games. It was public enough to keep her fans satisfied, but maybe it would help sway her reputation back into a more tasteful area. Maybe she’d be surrounded by people who got it.

PLAYED BY // DAISY