#you can see me like visibly hoping it's going to be a bait and switch

[corviiids]

i found the note i was keeping when i was reading LABB murders because i started reading it hoping it was going to be like a legit mystery novel challenge i could solve because it's death note and it's all about suspense and intrigue! so i was taking notes of clues and observations and you can track my extremely palpable disappointment the further i get into the book as the clues just get more and more obvious

[chouxsardine]

Mariner's Complex -- Jake Kiszka x reader

Summary: "Look for the lighthouse when you are lost, it will always bring you home. May the light in your soul guide you, may the love in your heart keep you strong." -- Jake is nervous before going on stage. You know just the right way to calm his nerves.

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x reader

Word Count: 2532

Warnings: 18+! minors be gone, mention of alcohol, mention of anxiety, public sex, unprotected penetrative sex, soft Jake (please let me know if I missed any!)

Genre: Smut, hurt/comfort (kind of)

Author's note: This piece is inspired by the gif above. I am smitten upon seeing it. This is my first time writing smut. It's about vulnerability, about receiving and giving love, lots of love. It is my fictional way of hoping that Jake is reminded of being one of the best guitarists out there and that he is loved by us. Deepest thanks to the wonderful @sacredjake for beta reading and for inspiring and encouraging me to pick up writing and post this. Please do yourself a favor and read her works; they're awesome beyond words. Enjoy!!

🎧: songs that pair nice with this piece: Lost at Sea by Lana Del Rey and Rob Grant; Mariners apartment complex by Lana Del Rey (can you tell I'm bad at titles now?)

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There’s just something about the air in the stadium before the concert; it feels like with every inhale, it immediately turns into adrenaline. With its graininess accentuated, one can almost sense the atoms buzzing in the air, like a shoal of sardines forming a bait ball, enclosing him, a cyclone where he is the eye. Is this what Josh means when he writes “carbon dancing through time” ?

His mind is racing a million miles a second; it’s like hoping onto a car with broken brakes, he’s bound to hit something in the hazardous terrain——

Knock knock. “Jake?”

As if someone pulled the switch, he is snapped back to reality. He immediately recognizes the voice of his lover. The sweetest sound in the world. His shoulder visibly relaxes, the corner of his mouth turning up, and his heart feels tender. He has always appreciated this—forever so considerate and thoughtful, always respecting his privacy even though they have already been together for so long.

“Come in!”

As expected, his lover’s face came into view, the familiar smile.

“I got you the salad you wanted!” You said, raising the white plastic bags in your hands.

You can tell he is anxious the moment you push open the door. Years of a committed relationship must have formed some kind of telepath between you two. You can almost sense it in the air. Is it a thing though? Like the service dogs that can smell it when their owner’s heart is beating too fast. Well, you know someone’s heart is certainly racing now.

You can’t quite figure out where his anxiety is coming from. They boys are at the middle leg of this tour. Is it from the traveling? Or maybe it has to do with his string snapping during soundcheck earlier? Or it could just be his brain playing tricks on him. And you respect that, even amazed or amused because you know it’s from the very same place where all the amazing melodies and witty remarks are born.

You spotted the glass on the vanity. Amber liquid barely covering its bottom, corresponding to the proportionate empty space in the newly-opened bottle of whiskey right next to it. You know Jake is never one to get plastered before going on stage. The alcohol is just a pacifier for his nerves. You follow his gaze to the white roses sitting in the vase. He’s remained quiet all this time, not even trying to hide his feelings, only giving you a smile through his reflection in the mirror. The comfortable silence hangs mellowly like willow branches, a mute radiation of his trust and vulnerability.

You set the bag aside and squat down in front of him, thumb brushing the back of his hand. You know better than to ask questions like “are you okay”. You know that right now your physical presence is already a comfort for him. You’d rather let him take the lead for the rest.

Jake tilts up your chin—a silent cue for kisses. You happily oblige, feeling his lips forming a smile upon contact with yours. He releases a contented sigh, pulling back after a moment. “I’ve missed you.”

“Yeah? You’ve got me now.” Now sitting across his lap, your hand rests gently on his cheek. Jake immediately leans into your touch like a cat, turning his head and pressing kisses into your palm.

“They already double-checked it. I’ll ask them to pay extra attention before the show starts, just to make sure.” You said, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, revealing the little hoop dangling.

Jake hums, knowing you are referring to the snapped string earlier. Stupid mistake. His throat feels dry, “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I——”

“Shh,” you give him a peck on the lips, “none of that. You don’t have to explain anything. Those feelings are valid. And they are temporary.”

Then a brilliant idea strikes you.

“We’ll take a walk, alright?”

“Here?” He cocks his head in slight confusion.

He immediately recognizes that you are giving him a taste of his own medicine. Well, in a good way. He knows you are talking about one of those “mental health walks” that he proposes when you are engulfed by the noises inside your head. But the backstage is not street gardens or some hiking trials in a park, how will that work?

“Yeah, you have time. Right?”

There’s indeed at least a good half an hour before the last sound check. He can’t argue with you. By the way, when were he ever able to say no to your invitations? This little genius mind of his lovers, constantly conjuring up the most amusing and endearing words and ideas like the hat of a magician. With a resigned smile, he caves in, placing his hands in yours.

“Come on, up you get, you lazy butt.” You step back and pull on his arm.

“Hey, you love this butt!” He protests in feigned grievance.

“Yup, can’t deny it’s a nice one.��� You jokingly smack his ass as you follow him out of the dressing room, feeling happier hearing his banter, seeing him slowly getting back to himself. He’ll get there, you will make sure of it.

The corridors are generally quiet around this time, allowing the artists to rest before the real frenzy starts. Occasionally, stage crews pass by, rolling equipments boxes down the hall. You two swiftly move out of their way, hand in hand, strolling as if window shopping in the mall. You are entertaining Jake with a funny little incident you saw on your way to buy him food.

“You should’ve seen it, really,” you snort out a laugh recalling the scene, “that poor lady is struggling so hard and the shopping cart is just running away from her, loaded with two cases of Guinness!”

Jake is laughing with you, slightly shaking his head in disbelief. You turn to admire his profile, the apple of his cheek rising, the wrinkle to his nose deepening, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. There’s nothing you love more than seeing Jake smile and laugh, it never fails to create that fizzy feeling in your heart, like a bubble approaching the surface of a cream soda.

Having jumped out of your storytelling, your attention diverts back to the feeling of Jake’s arm snaking around your waist. Now his hands are sliding up your sides, from the small of your back to the sweet spot on your flank.

He turns to look at you. Upon meeting his gaze, you immediately pick up the implicit plea. His caramel eyes full of admiration, the edge of his iris grows fuzzy. His eyelashes flutter as his gaze falls to your lips.

You cover the distance between you with a kiss. This one is different from the one in the dressing room. The tip of his tongue tickles your bottom lip with small licks before him pulls back a bit and mutters under his breath, “Want you, want to be close to you.”

Once again, you are more than willing to indulge.

It’s just so convenient that you happened to be near the corner where a pilaster protrudes enough to hide you from the passersby. As your back hits the wall, your fingers are already tangled in Jake’s hair, holding him close. You are circled by him, his freshly applied cologne lingers, now well adapted to his skin, bergamot wrapping the hidden notes of pepper and cedar. Jake kisses along your jawline and traces downwards, creating a dotted line of kisses across your breasts and hovering over your navel. His hands tugging on the waist of your pants. As he unzips it smoothly, he dives back in with more kisses, nibbling on the material of your underwear.

“No,” you mumble, tugging on his elbow motioning him to stand up, “I want you in me.” You loved it when he goes down on you, but not now. Now you need it to be about him, you know he needs it too.

There is a halt in his movement, suddenly his eyes a shade darker.

“Yes, let it out, Jake.” You hold your forehead against his, making sure he hears every word certain and clear. Whatever it is, a much-needed release, a claim of territory, an outlet of his bundled nerves. “Use me. Fuck me.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” Jake sucks in a breath.

You smirk, tilting your head back against the wall and surrendering more of your body to his arms. Jake’s hands on your thighs cover the coolness of your skin as your pants pool around your ankles. His knuckles tracing your heat through the fabric, the ghostly touch making you squirm.

“Please, Jake.” You loop your arms around his neck, raising up a leg pressing it into the side of his waist.

“So wet for me already, angel.” With frantic eagerness, he takes out his length and pulls your underwear aside. Your slickness draws his hard cock inside as he bottoms out in one firm and steady thrust. Jake was looking down as he enters you, his eyebrows creased in concentration, eyelashes throwing shadows under his eyes. He never fails to marvel at the way your bodies connect, it catches him in awe every time no matter how many times you have fucked, just as you are exploring each other’s bodies for the first time. When his gaze meets yours again, it’s like moonlight spilling behind clouds. You are the only object of his vision.

“Yes!” You mouth silently as he starts moving, him picking up the pace almost instantly as if placed in a running wheel. Jake’s head nuzzles into the crook of your neck, hot breath radiating and him lapping up at whatever area of skin he comes in contact with. His arm goes under your knee and finds leverage on the wall, the other hand holding onto your pelvis, pinning you in place. The rough texture of the brick wall rubs against your back along each shudder, magnifying the titillation deep inside you.

You feel like with each thrust his insecurity and anxiety ebbs away like the snaky morning fog, replaced by his confidence and charming self: the one you know will work his magic on stage tonight just like ever, the one that will make the entire stadium shake and roar just by his fingers moving across six strings, the one that proves both to the world and to himself again and again that “it could be done”.

You can feel him swell and twitch against your walls, you squeeze you thighs and clench, knowing he’s getting close. The spasms of his cock tickling that particular spot to the point of no return, the ecstasy washing over you like a cascade. The whines and screams rolling and tumbling in your chest like a pot of boiling water, threatening to jump out of your mouth. You roll your eyes back and swallow them down, releasing only one suppressed moan of “let go, baby” against Jake’s ear, and that is enough to send him over the edge.

With one jerk of his body, he cums hard. You can feel the additional thickness of his release almost dripping down your crotch. Jake’s whole weight falls towards you with the hunch of his shoulders. His chest presses firmly against your body, its rise and fall teasing your still hard nipples.

You hold his head against your chest as he comes down from the high, fingers brushing away the naughty strands of hair that have flown into the corner of his mouth and stuck to his cheek.

“As much as I would like to stay here forever, you really have to get going. They must be looking for their rockstar everywhere.” You chuckle while shimmying out of your rumpled underwear, using it to clean up.

“Damn.” Jake leans back against the wall as he watches you, still on cloud nine and short of words. For a moment, all he can do is look at you.

“Stop staring.” You nudge him, unable to stop blushing facing his caramel eyes filled with unadulterated adoration. You bet if you could reach into them, you would find a handful of stars. Plus, Jake looks exceptionally beautiful post-fuck, the upturn at the corners of his mouth accentuated the curve of his cupid’s bow. The smug smirk is counterbalanced by the rosy blush on his cheekbones, a tell-tale sign of his satiated desire. Good. That’s what you’d expected and what you’d like to see.

Jake cups your face in both of his hands as he leans in for a kiss. This time, almost childish, his pouted lips pepper all over, the bilabial “mwah” is especially pronounced, causing you to giggle again.

“Quite the walk, huh?” You insinuate.

“Well, now I prefer to call it the ‘mental health fuck’,” Jake slowly straightens his back, resembling a cat stretching after a content nap. “Catch you on the flip side, my love.”

He was already a couple of strides away when he rushes back to kiss you again, catching you in surprise. Aggressive and fervent in his actions, but oh so gentle when his mouth meets yours. This is the type of kiss where he takes the lead, and you are completely at his mercy. The tip of his nose brushes against yours, and his teeth softly bite your lower lip. It’s a kiss that steals your breath and your heartbeat away for tits entirety . “You know you are my lighthouse, yeah?” He stares right into your eyes, his voice low and husky. “ You always guide me back when I’m lost at sea. My Leucothea, my Lady of Luck.”

You feel a lump in your throat, and every word goes straight to your heart. The feelings there are so overwhelming that they rise and swell like tidal waves. It;s so much love that it makes you want to cry.

“Gosh, Jake, such the poet.” That all you manage to say.

“Because you’re my muse, my angel,” Jake smiles again as he steps back one last time. “And now it’s time for me to set sail again, yeah?”

“Aye aye,” you blow him a kiss, “Fair Winds, Captain.”

You watch as he leaves. The Starcatcher symbol on his back standing tall and proud. The crystal embellishments on his jacket scintillate, jet crystals and glass beads shimmers, reflecting the lights like a thousand stars falling onto his shoulders. He is the warrior that breaks their fall, wearing them proud as a crystal armour. You watch as he marches forward, carrying on his shoulders the weight of dreams. Your dearest rocker, the bravest captain.

For Jake, the atoms are still buzzing, but now he can feel them moving rhythmically, like the joyful wings of a hummingbird or the secret dance of bees. They delivering a yet undecipherable but nonetheless auspicious message. Soon he will be going on stage, carrying a heart full of love from his lover, so he can give all his love to his fans out there. And he knows if he looks, he will find you among the crowd, a cluster of flame, a powerhouse of love.

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Thank you so much for reading!! :) any comments and feedbacks are greatly welcomed and deeply appreciated.

The description of Jake's jacket is heavily relied on this post

kudos to who spotted the TLSP reference hehe

If you are in need of some fluff, feel free to check out my another Jake pieces: Permission to Fall || Ticked (all my boxes) || Love is a four-legged word || The Lucky Ones

[terramcgarden]

Hitch hikers guide for Runaway animatronics. (Drabble)

So I'm still working on the main story (and beginning of it). But this idea kinda just wouldn't leave my head and I really wanted to write it. I'm checking but I apologize for the errors I miss.

Summery: It's been a month or two since You hit picked up your new companion(s). The relationship between the two AI's is about nonexistent and you want to help them. Maybe some child like wonder will do them some good?

The sun was setting. By this point you have pulled the blinds around your truck and lowered the lights. The shift between Sun and Moon have gotten better since the day you first met them. With a jerk and shift in color you're greeted with the darker half: Moon. He instantly glances at the time, something he does to gauge how much time you have before he forces you to sleep.

"You wasted no time switching us over I see. " He says still looking at the time. It was sunset outside, the sun should still be light enough out to have Sun but not enough to trigger their ecliptic glitch. He tilts his head to you curiously, red eyelights locked on you and bathing you in their soft red glow. "Yeah it's been kinda a busy day. A TON of driving and all. Ya know?" You beam back. Your smile was so bright you might as well be glowing yourself. He chuckles softly, amused by how gitty you get when your excited. "But I thought today was your day off. Surely you and Sun would have strolled around?" He inquires, obviously trying to bait you into revealing more of your day. More on Sun.

"Yeah sorta. We didn't feel like messing around with the wheelchair today. So instead I did something a little different!" You pull out your phone, scrolling through it. Moon glances down at his legs seeing that they are still not repaired. They finally agreed to get a busted wheel chair till they get their legs repaired. He concluded it must have been too much of a pain that day.

"Aha!" Moon snaps back up as you proudly hand him your Phone. It glowed softly with a blurred bright glow of browns and greens.

"Whats this?" He asks, just a bit confused, but sounding hopeful.

"I rented a normal car for the day and we drove to a park. Since you can't come out we video recorded it for you!" You say proud and excited for him to see. It sucks that when he's not out, he's completely shut out. Literally in the dark with what Sun does and vice versa. Small videos are their only connection to the other. They still haven't tried writing to the other yet.

Moon taps play and he's instantly greeted with his reflection. Sun.. He was swaying his head muttering to himself. "Whoops! Silly phone, no selfie video!" His bouncy voice rings from the phone. Moon visibly relaxes a bit, leaning against the seat. He almost touches the screen but stops, not wanting to pause it on accident. The camera flips and Sun laughs in triumph as he shows his dominance over this small brick of tech.

"There we go! Video has started Friend! Now tell me where we are and whats with these delightful cliffs!" Sun waves the phone over to land on you. You look a bit odd driving a normal car rather than perched up behind the wheel of your truck. You laugh and wave at the camera. "Awesome! Well Sun since we're driving past Utah again I thought this time I share with ya some of it's natural treasures."

The phone shakes while Sun waves and stems in excitement before remembering to keep the camera still. "Treasure?? Are we about to find some hidden gold?? I don't think Pirates got this far friend!" You laugh at that. "Nah no pirates, sorry pal, we'll do that later though. But, We're at Zion national park! It's known for its... well.... you'll see." The camera jiggles and Moon guesses that was Sun nodding enthusiastically.

The camera swings forward and it's shown that the car view is MUCH smaller than what he's used to. They may just have their thigh parts but it still looked fairly cramped in that rental. But Sun showed no complaint. Rather he can be faintly seen in the reflection swaying his face plate in delight. As they drove along Sun would move around with the camera showing mostly a rocky wall and trees that defied the horizon and grew wherever the pleased. The playful banter between You and Sun is all Moon really cared about. Hearing Sun talk, laugh, and joke. He was himself, not anxious, not mad, not even scared. He was his happy bouncing self again.

Soon enough the car had dipped into a dark tunnel, Moon should have came out but they came prepared. Turnning on a lamp they brought with them to Keep sun out as to not cause a sudden glitch. But it was worth it as Sun's reflection was much more prominent.

"Goodness friend, You sure it was okay I stay out? This is a perfect environment for him." The hand holding the phone tightens just a bit.

"No he wouldn't get to appreciate much. However there's some Natural caverns I would like to see if he can go through." You reply waving a hand to show a sudden break in the dark to show a small window of bright light.

"Besides, it be too painful for the two of you, let alone dangerous for flickering lights."

Sun hummed to himself understanding what you meant. "Yes, yes, you're absolutely right! We can't be endangering you!" He laughs and Moon curls into himself more. Finally there was a bright light ahead of them. "Oh! here we go! Sun aim the camera to your side!" You can be heard as Sun follows your instructions.

At first theirs only darkness and Sun's reflection. But it quickly glows up until they burst into the light. Both Moon, and the recording of Sun make a static sound that you have deducted was their way of gasping.

There was a drop on the passenger side with a railing keeping them safe. But beyond was a breath taking view of the many different layers of earthy tones stacking high up to form the Zion Utah mountains. The light castes over leaving shadows in just the right angles.. It was truly magical, and like a child Sun moved to press his face plate against the window, pressing the phone up against it as well.

"Wow.. Just- WOW! FRIEND! MY GREMLY FRIEND DO YOU SEE THIS!?! WHAT COLORS! WHAT BEAUTY! My stars I can't even begin to describe how INCREDIBLE this is!!" Moon couldn't help but chuckle at his other half's delight. The rambling went on and on and whatever you might have said was drowned out by the delight of the brightly colored animatronic.

"-Oh My what a wonderful treat! It's so..... I wish Moon could see this..." That last bit was soft whisper. It was never meant to be heard by anyone. But the Phone managed to pick it up. Moon stiffened upon hearing his name. Any audio he's ever heard where Sun referred to him, it was always "He...Him... the other..." Never his name. Static came out of his voice box as he lowered the phone and his red lights go out.

You panic scrambling over to him. Oh shit did he short circuit?? You put your hands on his shoulders and shake him gently. "Moon? MOON!? No no man please don't do this- AH!" He suddenly boots back on, he sits up and looks down at you. Their face plates were stuck in a permanent smile, and yet.. This smile felt genuine. He raises his arms to ask for a rare hug. You waste no time leaning in where your pulled into the passenger seat next to your Lunar friend. Static was thick when he spoke, like a radio slightly out of tune, but you could hear him.

"Thank you my friend..... That.... was a nice surprise..."

You spend the rest of your evening hugging your friend as he needs the rare comfort, humming him a soothing lullaby.

@lets-zofifi-stuff gonna tag ya since I know you've been waiting for something!

[seok-jinnies]

so close to perfect | jjk

jeon jungkook x reader

angst with a happy ending, idol!au, established relationship ; wc : 1480 words

rating: pg13

warnings: swearing, mentions of insecurities, jungkook is a bit of a dick here i'm sorry lol

note: this fic was inspired by this song! it's been collecting dust in my drafts for so long and then i realized that i haven't posted anything in months so....... hope you guys enjoy!

jeongguk has always been your constant, and even with what seems to be the whole world against the two of you, you can't bring yourself to let him go.

Sighing, you take a sip from your tea. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

Jeongguk blinks. “What?”

“I said,” you repeat slowly, “you’re a fucking idiot. I know what I got into. You don’t get to make decisions for me.”

“I’m not making decisions for you, (Y/N).” He scoffs, leaning back on his chair. “I’m telling you that this isn’t working out between us. We need to break up.”

For a few moments, you say nothing. The sounds of the cafe downstairs fill the silence between the two of you and you idly wonder if he’ll gain some sense the longer that you stare at him. You raise an eyebrow.

“You literally told me that you wanted to start a family with me yesterday,” you deadpan. “People don’t change that quickly, especially not you.”

“Then you obviously don’t know me well enough!” He fires back, leaning forward as he grips the edge of your table. His jaw clenches, and in another time, maybe you would have found it attractive. Now, however, it only fuels your irritation further.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you consider actually slapping some sense into that stupid, big head of his. “Jeongguk, I’ve known you for ten years,” you remind him calmly. “I know you better than I know myself, which is why I know that you’re an awful liar and that every sentence you’ve uttered in the past ten minutes has been pulled straight out of your ass.”

You can practically see the gears turning in his head. It was clear that this strategy wasn’t working out, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that it was time for him to switch tactics.

When his gaze grows harder, colder, you already know that the next thing that comes out of his mouth will tear your heart to shreds. Still, you tilt your chin upwards, meeting his gaze head-on.

“(Y/F/N),” he says quietly, voice so dangerously low. You brace yourself for the impact. “How do I make you understand that the past three years have been nothing but a waste of my time?”

Bull’s-fucking-eye.

He takes your frozen state as a sign to continue. “The past three years have just been one big trainwreck. You’ve done nothing but hold me back in every aspect of my life. You have been nothing but selfish and it shows even now,” he scoffs. “You refuse to listen to me when I tell you something. It’s always your way or the highway, isn’t it?”

You’re stunned into silence. So this was the path he was going to take, huh? Somewhere, underneath the wave of hurt that washes over you is a thought: textbook. This is a textbook manifestation of your worst fears, your deepest insecurities. He knows you better than you know yourself; knowing exactly which buttons to press to hurt you the most. He’s cutting into your very soul with surgeon-like precision. The wounded, angry part of you wants to take the bait, to rip him apart but you don’t have it in you to tear into him just as he had done with you.

So you say nothing, merely tilting your head to the side. Slowly, you bring your cup to your lips, sipping quietly before setting it down once more. His eyes are still dark, filled with barely repressed rage.

“You’re always fucking clinging to me too!” He spits out. “You act like you’re so high and mighty but then you act like a fucking child whenever you don’t get what you want. Grow the fuck up,” he laughs humorlessly. “Loving you is the biggest mistake of my life. I wish I never fucking met you.”

At that statement, you can’t even hold back a wince. If you weren’t watching him so closely, you would not have noticed the way his eyes widen infinitesimally, fingers twitching as if he wanted to reach out for you. He bites his lip and for a second he looks like the Jeongguk that you know and love. That’s all it takes for you to strengthen your resolve once more, to force your tears back, and to face this head-on as if he hadn’t hit you where it hurt the most.

“Is that all you’ve got?” You say coolly as if your heart didn’t ache at his words. “Let it all out, love; I’ve got all day.”

His facade begins to crumble. “Why aren’t you mad at me?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Do you want me to be mad at you?”

He visibly deflates in front of you. Shaking his head, he looks at the coffee table, fingers tracing the scratches on the surface.

“Just break up with me,” he whispers pitifully. “It’s the best thing you can do.”

You hum softly. “Do you want to break up with me because of the reasons that you listed earlier? Or…”

“Or?”

“Does this have something to do with the conversation you had with your manager this morning?”

His head shoots up, eyes widening comically. “How do you know that?”

“I have my ways,” you shrug. “That, and the fact that Yoongi overheard the two of you and gave me a heads up.”

“How did he even overhear us?”

You only shrug once more. Yoongi was, well, Yoongi. He was a man of many (slightly concerning) talents.

“If you’re worried about me receiving hate,” you start, pulling his hand into your grasp, “then you have nothing to worry about. I’m a big girl. I can handle it.”

He scoffs quietly but there’s no real malice behind it. “People are cruel when they want to be. I’ve been on the receiving end of that, (Y/N). I never want you to know what that feels like.”

“So you were just going to take the easy way out?”

He blanches. “No, I… I just wanted to protect you…”

A sad grin creeps up your face. “And look where that got us.”

Letting go of his hand, you take another sip of your tea, almost spitting it out when you look at Jeongguk and realize he has actual tears in his eyes. “Guk?” You say worriedly, hand reaching out to cup his cheek. He leans into your touch and closes his eyes, eyebrows still adorably scrunched in that way it always did whenever he was close to tears.

When he opens his eyes again, you smile.

“I didn’t mean what I said,” he says hoarsely. “I don’t think you’re selfish or immature or clingy. Loving you, meeting you has been the best thing to happen to my life and⁠, and I⁠—” He swallows thickly, a single tear rolling down his cheek. You’re quick to wipe it off even as you feel your own eyes well up with tears.

“I love you,” he admits. “I look at you and my heart feels so full and you make me so happy and I just, I love you so much⁠—” he sobs, dragging his seat closer to you so he could hold you close. You stiffen when he buries his face in the crook of your neck, only relaxing when you’re sure that no one else is on this floor of the cafe. Your arms wrap around his hunched form, letting him cry freely.

“I’m so sorry about what I said. I didn’t mean any of it I swear,” he blubbers, nose all red and runny. It’s almost adorable how he looks at you so earnestly with tears in his eyes. “You’re my everything, (Y/N), I mean it.”

He pulls away from you with a sudden urgency, hands cupping your face gently as he looks into your eyes deeply. “You don’t hold me back. You make me a better person every single day. I’m an idiot who should have talked to you about this first before forcing you to break up with me.”

“You are an idiot,” you agree. He snorts at how quickly you agree, but all you can think of at the moment is how easily he puts your heart at ease despite being the very person to have ripped it apart moments earlier.

“Don’t get me wrong, we’re going to talk about this in detail but this isn’t a discussion we should be having in a public place.” You rise from your seat, patting his cheek gently. “Let’s go home?”

He nods happily, giving you that smile⁠—that soft smile of his that makes you forget about everything else, the one that tells you he loves you more than anything in the world. “Let’s go home.”

The two of you still had so many things to talk about, so many things to unpack from today’s events. It almost seems daunting now that you think about it as the two of you walk home with your hand in his, but as long as you had him… then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all.

[kaeyas-beloved]

could i request a scenario with issac x an astronaut mc??

idk i think it’d be really cute and they could bond over their love of space together 🥰

Isaac x MC/Reader (You) || Ikemen Vampire

Warning(s): None (Maybe a little OOCness - I haven’t picked up IkeVamp in sometime)

Note: Oh I agree, it WOULD be cute <3 (now if only I could capture that cuteness....) 

I’d like to apologize for taking so long to do your request (as well as the other one that you sent in). Hopefully what I have written was worth the wait and I was able to fulfill your request! (If not then I’m sorry to disappoint)

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

My Lunar Lover

You’d made a singular comment, an off handed one at that, about how you’ve set foot on the moon back in your time. You and Isaac were out on a stargazing date set in the back of Le Comte’s mansion by the fountain, his arm wrapped around you and your body pulled flushed to him. The vampire in question had been talking about the phases of the moon; how could such a topic not remind you of the old life and occupation you’d left behind? Not that you regret doing so; you've never been happier than you are now with Isaac by your side.

Yet the confession you spoke in passing caused him to pull away from your shared embrace and go rigid as a board, almost like he’s preparing for a blow to the heart; he’s waiting for you to laugh and tell him you’re joking. You’re one of the only people who withheld from poking fun at him (or if you did it was clearly meant to be taken as a jest) so he wants to get his hopes up at your news, put trust in you, but simultaneously he doesn’t. Come on, mankind going into space? Walking on the moon? Preposterous! You have to be pulling his leg here!

Cherry blossom coloured eyes searched your own, scanning with a fine tooth comb for those telltale signs of teasing (signs he’d see almost on the daily with a certain troublesome duo) though he’d found none. It hit him in that instant that you were far from lying. 

A sort of switch flipped in your boyfriend - he went from skeptical, tense and guarded to showing you the smile he’d only let slip with you, less he got called out by a certain someone, with a spark in his expression. Only when he delved into something he was well informed in did he get like this, so to get the opportunity to hear about the wonders of modern day science, astrology and it’s huge advancements would of course fuel his curiosity greatly. 

You watched him quietly take in the realization. There was something about that twinkle in his eyes that reminded you of the shining stars above, painting him cute in your eyes. You kept that to yourself though. 

Isaac, in the heat of his excitement and desire for more information, grabbed a hold of your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze; he caught himself quickly though and let go, wondering if he’d just been a little too rough with his sudden grab. Aware of how he ticked, you made the move yourself and went for his hand, a silent way to let him know that it was alright. His palm was warm in your own, a pleasant sensation. Isaac’s smile widened just a fraction more, whether it was because you’re comforting him or he gets to hold your hand at all, who knows, maybe both. The first signs of a light blush growing on his pale cheeks,  his heart refusing to calm down and he uttered a simple question to you, hoping above all else that you’ll agree.

“Can you, perhaps… tell me more?” 

Already you had the answer in your mind - yes, of course - but you took a moment to study him and his expression. Every time he got like this, so passionate about one of his fields of study, a warm feeling grew in your chest. Seeing him so happy and in his comfort zone made you equally as happy - but the fact that it was about something you yourself loved as well? It’s heaven on earth to get to share an interest with someone close to you.

“Of course I’ll tell you more, anything you want to know I’ll answer the best I can.” He gave a final pause, leaving room for you to back out of his soon to be interrogation, but eased into his questions when he saw you weren't moving, something he’s thankful for. He’d take this thought to his grave, but Isaac felt overjoyed - dare he describe this feeling as giddy - at the idea of talking with his favorite person about a topic he loved. It was like he got to deepen the connection the both of you had and without fear of you becoming lost in his rapid fire ramblings.

As much as Isaac loves you, for the most part he questioned about the science behind it all (he did still try and squeeze in questions that were specific to you and your experience though). How did you get on the moon? What is it like up there? Why did you decide to take the trip? 

You explained to the best of your abilities all that you knew, many times fighting to hold in your laughs at the slight twitches and incredulous faces he tried to hide when you told him something particularly interesting, funny, or stupid that people say in the 21st century.

Slowly the Q&A naturally dwindled down and the two of you went back to looking at the stars, shifting the topic from the moon to going back and forth between each other as you pointed out constellations and groups of stars; telling about their stories and origins. The excitement never left either of you though, enthusiasm still seeped through in your actions and speech as you both pointed high into the inky night.

Your boyfriend's smile never left his face either, and you’re sure this is the longest that he’s ever had it on. It seems you’ve made a little world with just the two of you, a space where he didn’t have to restrain himself.

“Thank you…” Isaac whispered all of a sudden, turning away from the sky to face you, the light from the moon catching his eyes, making them dazzle in such a beautiful way.

“For what?”

“For indulging me in my interests and….” he hesitated for a moment, that adorable blush from earlier coming back, the pink hue barely visible in the dark but still possible to see if you stared enough, “... and for letting me know a little more about you.”

“We can do it again if you want, I’m sure I wasn’t able to cover everything I know,” you smiled, hoping he’d take the bait; anything to spend this kind of special time together again, a time that only two space loving lovers could share. 

Isaac, with a rush of confidence, scooted closer to you, coming to rest his forehead against yours.

“I’d… like that very much…” 

“Then it’s a date!” you laughed, placing a feather light peck on his free-for-the-taking lips. 

God, if only you knew how much Isaac loves you and all that you are. He couldn’t ask for someone more perfect for him than you. From personality to passions, you are the one for him. His lunar lover.

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

[Masterlist]

[illuminatedquill]

Nevertheless, Episode 9 Reaction

“find your fire

and do not be afraid

to burn bridges

that deserve to fall.”

- r.h. sin

What’s this? Is this . . . happiness I feel after watching an episode of Nevertheless? No, it couldn’t be.

And yet. Here we are. So, let’s talk about it.

This was a powerhouse of an episode that saw satisfactory resolutions on multiple fronts. Right off the bat: Jae Un and Na Bi in the bar, drinking. Man, the cinematography of that scene; their backs turned to us, we only hear what they’re saying. But it tells us how impersonal their relationship has become. Na Bi, immediately jumping for her phone when Do Hyeok texts. You don’t have to see Jae Un’s face to know how jealous he’s getting. Na Bi, immediately admitting that she likes Do Hyeok and proceeds to list the reasons why she does. All in Jae Un’s face. So. Good.

Jealousy seems to be the central theme in this episode and it plays well into striking a contrast between the two guys vying for Na Bi’s heart. So, let’s talk about it.

Do Hyeok, in another case of epically bad timing, decides to meet up with Na Bi to deliver the beach photos to her only to see her and Jae Un walking into her apartment together. Jae Un spots him but doesn’t mention anything to Na Bi, knowing exactly what it looks like.

Do Hyeok’s expression. Jesus. It almost broke me to see him so broken hearted. The poor guy’s imagination must be running wild in his head and Na Bi’s late reply to his text only seems to affirm the worst to him. He’s not handling it well.

Jae Un, being his classic asshole self, takes this opportunity to get with Na Bi one more time - but she doesn’t take the bait and pushes him away (YOO NA BI, YOU ARE MAGNIFICENT). Feeling desperate, Jae Un drops the bomb: “Let’s date.”

And, I’ll admit it, he was sincere about that. Jae Un was sincere about a lot of things in this episode (the butterfly bracelet is really pretty) but the jealousy inside of him is always ever present and . . . just continues to build until the bitter end.

Here’s the thing: Na Bi is obviously taken back at his declaration and she does sincerely consider it - but Jae Un doesn’t handle his rivalry with Do Hyeok well, at all, which backfires on him tremendously.

Do Hyeok returns to the restaurant and imagines himself having a conversation with Na Bi (or was it real? Not clear on that) and it kinda reaffirms his feelings for her, both good and bad. When he finally gets the chance to meet up with Na Bi to deliver the photo book he gently tells her that he saw her and Jae Un go into her apartment together.

And Na Bi freezes. You can see the despair on her face. This whole episode further strengthens their relationship; Do Hyeok isn’t even there, and yet she turns more and more to him for comfort after being scolded by her teacher and failing to get into the exchange program. (Jae Un only found out that last part when he saw the results on that paper.) She likes him so much. She tells him so much about her life and what’s going and how she’s feeling so freely and honestly. She values his opinion so much. And she doesn’t want to lose him because she thinks she isn’t good enough to be with him.

And Do Hyeok. Oh, Do Hyeok. Once again, he handles it like the sweet guy he is. He owns up to his faults and admits that, yes, he was jealous. I love that he straight up admits it. And he wishes her to be sincerely happy. He doesn’t wait for an explanation. Do Hyeok just doubles down on his faith in Na Bi, AGAIN, and asks her that all important question: “Did you ever once feel like he sincerely likes you?”

We don’t get an answer from Na Bi, but, (and I hate saying this) the answer is yes. Like I mentioned before, Jae Un was being sincere at some points in this episode. (Although I would argue that all of it was to service himself to convince her that he was being sincere but whatever.) But it doesn’t matter since he ruins it. And we see the true nature of his love and how possessive he’s become of Na Bi. And it’s wrong. Whatever chance he had with Na Bi gets washed away with the rain.

The rain scene. This has been coming for a long time for Jae Un. The melt down. I called this back in episode 7, but it was too early. All this time, I was wondering what Na Bi’s breaking point with Jae Un would be and, man, the writers did not disappoint.

It was Do Hyeok. Na Bi’s strength of feelings for Do Hyeok and her wish to not disappoint him. You can visibly see her expression harden when Jae Un cruelly makes fun of Do Hyeok’s broken expression; something Do Hyeok hadn’t mentioned was that Jae Un had seen him that night. His petty cruelty towards Do Hyeok, someone she cherishes and cares for deeply, takes her over the edge.

And Na Bi finds her fire. And proceeds to burn his smug ass. It all comes tumbling out, everything they haven’t been talking about. Oh, how I cheered when Jae Un’s expression froze when she eviscerated him. AND, she owned up to her role in their relationship, which I loved (it had been an issue for me with her character). It cost her a lot to end it with him, and, God, I felt so bad when she cried alone in her apartment. But it was necessary.

Do Hyeok owns up to his insecurities and feelings and talks it out with Na Bi. Jae Un bottles it up and explodes not only over Na Bi but over someone she cares about. It’s a no brainer why she chose to end it, at last. I could kiss the writers for having Do Hyeok be the reason why she finally snapped. It’s such a testament to how strong her feelings are for Do Hyeok.

The preview has me worried. Not because I think they’ll pull a switch and have her end with Jae Un after all but it definitely seems they might be heading towards the webtoon ending. I think Jae Un is planning to mess with Na Bi one more time. I really hope that is not the case because she really deserves to be happy after everything. The other side couples seem to get their happy endings and something tells me that Na Bi won’t be so lucky.

Probably will write more about this episode since there was a lot going on, but, hey! We made it. A win for Team Na Bi (and a resurrected Team Potato) Just one more to go. Let’s all hope for a happy ending for Na Bi and Do Hyeok. They’re well on their way (the preview teased so many cute moments between them).

[tails89]

The static that echoes through the radio fades out to white noise under the thundering of Eddie’s heart.

“Firefighter Buckley, do you copy?”

He waits with baited breath for the response but all he gets is the crackle of the flames around them and the roaring in his ears.

“The floor collapsed, Cap.” The voice, when it finally comes, is not the one Eddie had been hoping to hear. “Buckley’s fallen through to the first floor. I can see him, but I don’t have a way to reach him.”

“Which quadrant are you in?” Even over the radio, the strain in Bobby’s tone is evident as he organises to get hoses to the other side of the building. “Firefighters Tomas, Han and Diaz, return to the truck. We’ll focus our efforts on the lower South West corner.”

Eddie stiffens and shares a glance with Chim. They’d been sent in to sweep and clear the North and East sides of the two storey apartment block while Buck and Tomas had gone to clear the opposite corners.

The fire had taken hold quickly, threatening to consume the building when Bobby had ordered them to pull out.

Reaching the bottom of the stairwell, Eddie turns towards the centre of the building.

“This whole place is going to come down,” Chim warns him, voice muffled by his mask. “You heard Bobby, we’ll get him from the other side.”

“It’ll take too long,” Eddie insists. “And every moment we wait we risk the building collapsing.” He shrugs away from the grip Chim has on his turnout coat. “It’s Buck. I can’t leave him.”

With a long sigh, Chim pushes Eddie down the Southwest corridor and reaches for the radio clipped to his coat.

“Captain Nash, Firefighters Han and Diaz are approaching Buckley’s approximate location.”

They jog down the hall keeping their heads low and away from the flames that lock the ceiling.

Visibility is poor. Smoke and ash swirls all around them and the building creaks as the fire eats away at the supports.

When they find Buck its because Eddie almost trips over him. He’s hidden, half buried by the disintegrated remains of the floor he’d been standing on.

“We got eyes on Buck, Cap,” Chim relays into the radio before crouching beside the fallen firefighter.

“Buck.” Eddie gives his shoulder a shake and relief floods through him at the sound of Buck’s long groan. “Hey, easy now. We’ve got you.”

He looks to Chim who’s pushing away bits of debris.

“He’s not pinned,” Chim observes. “Can’t see any obvious signs of trauma. If we’re lucky we’re probably just looking at a concussion.”

Buck groans again and coughs against the smoke that fills the room. “Eddie?”

“There you are.” Eddie grins and fixes the Buck’s mask to cover his face properly. “You think you can stand?”

The ceiling groans ominously and Chim rises from his crouch.

“We don’t have time to find out,” he says, helping Eddie lift Buck on his feet. “We need to go.”

They hurry from the building, breaking out into the humid morning air. Once they’re far enough from the building, they set Buck down on the ground and Chimney switches to paramedic mode.

He gestures for someone to bring over the oxygen and starts checking Buck over for injuries.

The oxygen is delivered by Bobby who gives Eddie and Chim a stern look.

"You both disobeyed my orders,” he starts, only to be interrupted by Buck.

“It was my fault, Cap.” The mask he’s wearing fogs up with each breath.

“I’m not sure how that’s possible,” Bobby says, but his expression softens. “Unless you were trying to break through the floor.”

Buck lets out a short bark of laughter that quickly turns into a cough.

“What’s the verdict?” Bobby asks, turning to Chim.

“He’s doing surprisingly well for someone who decided to take a shortcut to the first floor,” Chim teases. “But given he lost consciousness for a bit, he needs to get checked out at the hospital.”

“I’m fine,” Buck croaks.

“You heard him.” Bobby clasps Buck’s shoulder in a warm grip. “Go get checked out.”

Eddie helps Buck to stand, holding him steady when he sways dangerously.

“Uh, Captain?”

Bobby looks from Eddie to Buck, his keen gaze lingering on the grip Eddie has around Buck’s waist.

“Yes, you can go with them,” he says, lips ticking up at the corners.

Eddie doesn’t want to think about the conversation that will probably be waiting for them when they get back to the station. Instead he focuses on helping Buck into the back of the ambulance and helps him strip out of the rest of his heavy turnout gear.

“I’m okay,” Buck mumbles as the ambulance pulls out on to the road. He slips the mask up off his face and grabs at Eddie’s hands. “I’m okay.”

“I thought...” Eddie doesn’t want to say the words, doesn’t want to speak them into existence. This call out could have had a very different ending.

But Buck is able to read the unspoken words in the creases of Eddie’s bow. “It didn’t happen. I’m okay.”

Almost unbidden, Eddie’s hand comes up to wipe the soot from Buck’s cheek and then he’s leaning in and their lips are pressing together with a need that’s almost desperate.

Buck tastes like smoke and sweat but his mouth is warm and so, so alive.

The loud blaring of the ambulances horn brings them back to their senses. Buck pulls away and Eddie turns, scowling towards the front of the truck.

Hen and Chim are both staring at them from the front of the cab, twin grins plastered across their faces.

“About time,” Chim crows turning back to the road as the traffic starts moving again.

Hen laughs. “You boys just made me a lot of money.”

But Buck’s hand has found Eddie’s, his fingers curling around his wrist and that’s all that matters.

[fixxofvixx]

POSSESSION - TAEKWOON AU - CHAPTER 13

Hello!!! I hope everyone is doing well! I had a lovely birthday, made possible by lovely messages from you. We've had a bit of snow here and there but the weather hasn't been too bad. I hope everyone is safe and healthy.

Let me know what you think of the chapter!!💖

🏰🏰🏰🏰🏰🏰

You slammed into the corner of your room just as the vine released it's grip.  You expected the fire to burn you right away but instead it was as if you were on the other side of the fire in your room.  You could see Leo and Ravi still battling the flames while trying to search for you.  

You screamed their names but gave no indication that they could hear you.

"Pick one."  You heard a voice next to you, the same one from the hallway.  You turned but, as before, there was no one there.

"What?"

"Pick one.  I will let one live and the other will die."  A cold chill of panic ran down your back.  It was quickly replaced by anger.

"Why do I need to do that?"

"If not, then you can pick yourself."

You almost did.  But a sudden flash of fire brought your attention back to Leo.  You remembered his sister and what he'd said about bait and sacrifice.  Clenching your jaw and taking a deep breath, you answered.

"No."

"No?  What do you mean, 'no'?  Do you realize what I could do to them….or you?  You could end all of their fighting by simply agreeing."

"Yes, they are fighting…..for me.  For the life of me, I can't understand why they would do that but I'll be damned if I'll make them fight in vain."  The more you saw Leo and Ravi fighting, the angrier you became.

"You're a fool."

"That may be…..but I still won't give you the answer you want."  You were still but your body trembled with fear.  You knew in a split second, this entity could end you.  

Suddenly, the voice shrieked and you covered your ears.  A second later, the vines and fire disappeared.  You fell to the floor with a thud.  

"Y/N!"  Leo and Ravi both called your name but you could barely hear over the ringing in your ears left by the shriek.

Leo reached you first and inspected for any visible injuries before pulling you up to a sitting position, tears pooling in your eyes.  You started to speak but Leo raised his hand to your head, touching your temple lightly.

"Sleep."  

You slumped in his arms instantly.  He picked you up easily and carried you towards your bed.  He started to place you on it but hesitated.  After a moment, he turned and headed towards his room with you in tow.

"Leo?  What are you doing?"  Ravi followed behind him, pulling the door closed.

"She's not staying in there until we figure out who or what that was."

"I agree but why did you put her to sleep?"

"I want her to rest.  She's had too much shock to her system in such a short time.  If we're not careful, her mind could shut down."  Leo placed you back on his bed and pulled the cover around your shoulders.  He knew he'd put you deep enough in sleep where you wouldn't dream but now he worried about the waking nightmares you might have. 

"Leo…."

"Come on, we need to grab the others.  I want whatever this thing is, gone."

"It might not be that easy."  Ravi spoke quietly, knowing his words would anger his older brother.  Leo spun around and advanced on Ravi.

"Why the hell not?"  Leo was naturally intimidating but when he got protective, he was not to be trifled with.

"Whatever….or whoever that was, is attached to this house somehow.  It would take more than a simple exorcism to get rid of it."

"Then we'll burn the damn house down."  Leo turned and walked towards the training room.  Ravi didn't argue, it would have been useless.  Hakyeon would have to be the one to calm him down….or Ken.

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

"Leo…..we can't burn the house down."  Hakyeon rubbed his fingers over his temples hoping to ease the tension in his head.

"Why not?"

"For one…..we live here."

"So we'll live somewhere else.  Ravi said this thing was attached to the house so the solution is to get rid of the house."

"Do you not remember how long it took us to place all the wards and enchantments in this place?  Not to mention how long this property has been in our family."

"Your family, Hakyeon…..I'm the illegitimate bastard, remember?" 

"Leo...you know damn well no one has ever thought of you like that."

"Some did."

"Y/N wouldn't."  Leo looked at Hakyeon and opened his mouth but closed it.  Hakyeon was right, he couldn't argue with that.

"We need to figure out what is in that room."

"Did…..did she ever mention anything?"  Hakyeon didn't want to ask but he needed to.

"No….my sister loved that room.  She wouldn't have if something malicious was inside."  Hakyeon nodded, ending that part of the conversation there.

"Well I suppose you'll have to give up your room again until we can figure it out."

"She can have it.  I'll find another room."

"You know she won't agree to that.  You might as well suggest you move into the room together."

"If I thought she would agree, I would."

"Baby steps, Casanova, she'll warm up to you.  She already trusts you more and turns to you for protection."  Leo cleared his throat, uneasy with the direction the conversation was going.

"How are we going to clear that room?"

"We might have to wait until Hongbin feels up to it.  He's the only one with the ability to switch realms."

"Let me know when he's awake.  I don't want to leave y/n alone for too long."

"I'm sure you don't."  Leo heard the playful sarcasm in Hakyeon's voice and responded by sending a fireball to his older brother.  He smirked as he heard Hakyeon's short yelp as he walked down the hallway.

[chrysalispen]

borealis #4 - nose

AO3 LINK HERE

there’s an extended scene i’m still working on for this, but there was a lot of stuff going on offline today (including internet blips) that ultimately caused me to leave off with the SFW version so i hope no one is too disappointed. XD

Prompt response is below the cut, as ever.

======

Perhaps the most self-evident observation that could be made of the small house nestled in its small copse in the Shroud upon first entry was that its adventuring inhabitant -- or inhabitants -- were either avid readers or wished any potential guests they might have to believe that was the case. The sitting-room with its tall shelves of books was immediately visible from the front entry, and one might be forgiven for assuming there was no possible way every tome on its shelves had been read.

In point of fact, the Warrior of Light was an avid reader when the subject fascinated her. However, this particular book was not the sort that normally caught her eye. She had only attempted to peruse its contents once, and that was yesterday when she had decided to outline today’s plan of attack. Last year, Nero had treated her to dinner - among other things - and she had completely forgotten the occasion. 

Well, she was not going to be caught unawares by the holiday this year. Today was Valentione’s Day and by some miracle, confluence of the fates, or what-have-you, she had managed to capture a small handful of days to herself in order to prepare. The flower arrangements were simplicity itself; those were already set on the table along with the gift she’d commissioned, wrapped neatly in its box- part of his gift, anyroad- and now all she had to do was see to the dinner. 

And the chocolates. 

...Aurelia wasn’t nearly as sure about the chocolates. 

Making them herself had seemed like a wonderful idea at the time, but she was starting to regret it. Warrior of Light or not, she really wasn’t what one would call the most accomplished culinarian, unlike Nero, who seemed to take the same meticulous approach to cooking as he did to his research and his engineering. He had grown up in a poor farming village, had learned how to make food alongside the grandmother who had raised him in order to help feed his family. 

Whereas Aurelia had- well. As the daughter of a wealthy landed gentleman - even if he was a younger son - her upbringing had been very different. Her lady-lessons had not included such things; the husband her family selected for her would have hired a cook and a housekeeper in the interest of keeping up appearances. And as a child, she had wanted to climb trees and grow flowers and be a scholar, the seven hells take sweating over a stove or bending over a distaff until her fingers ached.

Too late for regrets now, she supposed. 

Aurelia squinted doubtfully at the illustrated page, then back to the bubbling mess in the pot. It all felt rather simple, she thought. She’d never made truffles before, true, but only four ingredients? Surely she could do better than that. Chocolates with no embellishments seemed so-

“Well,” she muttered, “perhaps it’s fine if it’s a little uninspired.” 

Though on second thought, watching the cocoa melt down in the saucepan: perhaps some brandy wouldn’t hurt? Culinarians put spirits in sweets and other things all the time, and she remembered some treats she’d had in the Crystarium with Lakeland brandywine in them that had been absolutely amazing. 

With that decision made, she turned to make her way down the stairs towards her wine cellar, but the moment she set foot on the stairs, her linkpearl sounded off. Frowning faintly, she tapped the small device alongside the shell of her ear. 

“Yes?”

“Oh, Relia!” Tataru’s voice, perhaps just a touch too bright, chirped across the aetheric link. “So sorry to trouble you! I know you asked for no calls unless it was an emergency.”

“So I did. Is aught amiss?” She glanced over one shoulder as she made her way down the stairs towards the cellar door, too impatient and worried about the state of her cooking chocolate to pay much attention.

“Oh, not at all! This isn’t a work call, I promise. It’s just, er…”

Aurelia knew the sound of Tataru’s ‘I’m about to ask you for a favor’ voice when she heard it. “Go on.” 

“I was going through my measurement book for sewing patterns - for no reason whatsoever! - and realized I was missing one of yours. The, um, the bust.”

Her brows furrowed once more, this time in mild disbelief. 

“...The bust.”

“Yes.”

“Just the bust size is missing. Somehow.” Damn, where had she put that cognac?

“Yes.”

Right. Well, you're clearly up to something, old friend. 

She supposed she could grill Tataru for the details of whatever scheme she’d hatched, but attempting to pick apart the reasoning behind the Lalafell’s choice to call her with an extremely transparent lie would be better done while she was not preoccupied. In the meantime Aurelia didn’t see any harm in giving her a couple of measurements  - she had, after all, entrusted her with them once before. 

With this reasoning in mind, she rattled off the numbers as best she could remember them while squinting at the labeled bottles within the dimly lit rack. After a few moments of rummaging, she found what she was looking for just as Tataru piped, “I’ve got it. Thanks, Relia!”  

“You’re welco-”

The quick chime of a severed connection left her in relative peace and quiet once more. Which was strange in itself, because usually when Tataru was making a social call Aurelia could expect to be on the hook for a good half-bell of her time. 

But it was a question she could ask herself later. Right now she had chocolates to make. 

She trotted happily up the stairs, bottle in one victorious hand… only to see an alarming amount of smoke billowing from the stovetop. 

“Oh swiving Twelve- ” She made haste to the range and switched it off, then snatched one of the mitts from the nearby wall mount to wave back the smoke. Most of the pan’s contents appeared salvageable, thankfully, but it didn’t seem like enough. She wanted to make another batch, but if she didn’t have the extra ingredients-

Wait. I can just melt down some of the chocolate chips I saw in that bag in the dry pantry, can’t I? And just add the brandy in while it’s melting?

Aurelia turned towards the shelves of dry goods, somewhat cheered by the thought that she could spare herself a trip to the markets, at the very least. The bag was at the back of the very top shelf and she had to stretch a considerable bit to reach it, but she managed to pull it down without spilling any of its contents. 

She set aside the saucepan with its half-scorched contents, reached under the counter for a fresh pan, and poured in the chocolate, then paused. She probably didn’t need the cocoa butter if all she was doing was melting pre-made chips-- she’d have to pour in the cream while it was still hot but maybe that was fine, maybe it would even help melt the chocolate faster. Then “a splash of spirits,” whatever that meant. To taste, perhaps?

Hmm. Speaking of taste, which patisserie was it back in the capital that used to put chilies in their truffles...? 

Her good mood returned as she acted upon that stray impulse; she plucked one of the chilies from its bag and started cutting into fine pieces to add to the new mix. Of course, she might be getting a touch ahead of herself, but surely it would turn out alright in the end. These were all flavors she knew would work in chocolates so a little deviation here and there wouldn’t hurt.

The longcase chronometer in the parlor struck four just as she was stirring the pieces into the half-melted lumps. 

Hells. She still had to put the noodles on to cook and she hadn’t even started the sauce yet. If she wanted everything to be ready in order to spring her surprise, she’d have to work fast.

That was all right. She’d worked under far worse conditions before.

With a determined nod, Aurelia tucked a stray tendril of hair back behind her ear, turned up the heat on the cream until it began to bubble, and uncorked the cognac bottle. ~*~

Nero was not sure exactly what he should have expected when he opened the cottage door, but the smell of burnt sugar and the sight of a darkened kitchen was concerning, to say the least. 

He set the box that had been in his hands upon the nearby table (where, he noted, there was a wrapped box and a vase of fresh-cut flowers she had likely arranged herself) and ventured into the parlor. He found Aurelia sitting in one corner of the sofa, curled in a tight ball with her arms wrapped about her legs and her face buried in her knees. “Before you say anything,” she said, her voice muffled, “don’t.”

His brows arched. 

“That bad, is it?”

“You have to ask? You can surely smell it for yourself.”

“I can.” Though he knew it was unwise, he cracked a grin. “...Did you perchance fight an eikon in the kitchen? Is that my surprise?” 

Nero received precisely the answer he had expected for that particular bit of cheek: a sound swat to the face with one of the sofa pillows. He ouched as she drew her hand back and made an exaggerated face at her, but Aurelia didn’t take the bait. Instead she made a breathy, angry little hmph!, the sound muffled against her thighs, and tried to angle herself away from his perusal to face the apple-green brocade which covered the sofa’s frame. 

“Sweetling-”

“Don’t talk to me,” she huffed. “I’m angry.”

“Yes, I can see that.”

“I’ve made a mess of everything.”

“I don’t see how- well yes, alright, I suppose the kitchen is a bit of a disaster. But it’s naught that can’t be salvaged.” He sat down next to her and smelled chocolate and… something alcoholic. “What happened? You look absolutely gutted.” 

Finally she lifted her chin to look at him. Her blue eyes were very dark and very wide and shimmered with suspicious wetness.

"I was going to make dinner for you," she groaned. "I had flowers and a present and I was trying to make-”

“Chocolates.” Aurelia’s face was hard to see in the darkness but he could see her chin bob. “I take it something went awry.”

“A great lot of somethings. And then I was so busy trying to fix what had gone wrong that I burned dinner and-”

“Hush. Come here.” Reluctantly she let him untangle her from her sulk and pull her into his lap, like a tired kitten. “You know I appreciate the gesture, but it wasn't necessary.”

“Yes, it was!"

"How so?"

"I completely forgot last year. You went to all that trouble and I forgot. So I wanted to make it up to you. I thought if I could make it as special as possible-.... never mind.” Aurelia lifted her hands and stared at her chocolate-stained fingers with a disconsolate sigh. “...I’ll clean up the kitchen as soon as I’ve my wits about me.”

“You will do no such thing.” Nero kissed her on the nose, then gave it a tiny tap with his index finger. “You are going to go downstairs and run yourself a bath while I clean the kitchen- once I’ve dialed Mistress Tataru and thanked her for her very timely assistance, that is.”

So that was what that call was about! Seven hells, what had Tataru told him? The look on his face was that of a man hiding an extremely exciting secret, and she didn’t know whether to be apprehensive or curious.

Cautiously, she chose the letter. 

“Dare I ask?”

“You can ask all you like,” he grinned, that smile that was so often in turns endearing and infuriating. “Whether you’ll get an answer before I wish to give it remains to be seen.”

Aurelia sighed but felt her lips curve in a smile, some of her humor returning. “Surely cleaning the house was not on your docket for the evening.”

“Of course it wasn’t- but there's really only been a slight change of plans. Once you've had a chance to clean up, you're going to open that gift, and then I’m going to show you how to make proper chocolate-- and how to put it to far more interesting uses than homemade truffles.” Her cheeks felt ablaze with color, and as she watched a mischievous curl crept slowly into his smile. “One good turn deserves another, after all.” 

“Is this where I say ‘happy Valentione’s Day’ or somesuch?”

His lips brushed her cheek.

“It's a start,” he said. "And if it hasn't been happy thus far, I am quite confident I can make it so."

[dweetwise]

A cute Ace x fem reader where they play hide and seek during a trial

i don’t think i’ve ever written a request this fast but hey, strike while the iron is hot and all that! it’s a little dumb and a whole lot of fluff but i hope you enjoy <3 (disclaimer: i don’t actually play immersed in dbd pls don’t mori me)

word count: 2543

Ace X f!reader: Hide and Seek

“You want to do it now?”

You glance up from rummaging through your offerings to look at Ace. He's smiling wide and there's a mischievous glint in his eyes, kind of like whenever he tries to get one of the others to play poker with him—oh, right. You’d made a bet a few days ago. 

“The killers are so blind!” Ace had laughed when you both managed to escape another trial, you without even taking a hit. The others sometimes made jokes about your sneakiness, claiming your ‘blending’ abilities were rivaled only by Claudette. This particular trial, the Pig had been visibly annoyed, completely ignoring Ace after the last gen got done and only focused on finding you, muttering something about ‘losing her fourth stack’. “I run into you several times each trial. You’re not that hard to find,” Ace continued, taking a good-natured jab at your skill to stay out of sight. “Because I don't actually try to hide from you?” you argued, raising an eyebrow. “Wouldn't find me if I did,” you added, challenging. And you should have known Ace never backed down from a challenge. “Wanna bet?” the man grinned. “You manage to avoid me an entire trial, you win." “Oh, you're on.”

It took a while for the opportunity to present itself, as you'd been thrown into trials either separately or with some of your more serious teammates. You're pretty sure Laurie would have kicked your asses for slacking off, and you didn't want to set a bad example for the new girl, Cheryl.

But now, you're waiting by the pre-trial campfire for the Entity to pick which killer it wants to torture you with, taking in the sight of a yawning Quentin and a grinning Nea loading her flashlight with batteries like it was a lethal weapon. You figure this opportunity is as good as any.

“Hey, guys,” you start, getting the duo’s attention. “You mind if we fuck—" ‘Around this trial’ would have been the rest of your sentence, but Nea interrupts you by bursting into laughter and Quentin makes a disgusted face. "Oh my fucking god,” Quentin visibly cringes, glaring at Ace. “Keep it in your pants, dude.” “If you would let the lovely lady finish,” Ace starts with a smirk. “She was about to ask if we can use the trial to settle a bet.” “With hide and seek,” you add before they get any more lewd ideas. “Go nuts,” Nea quips and Quentin just shrugs with a “Whatever”.

You return your attention to the task of choosing an offering, settling for a reagent to increase the mist. When you go to throw it into the fire, you see Ace fiddling around with something, his back turned to you.

“Are you bringing bond!?” you squawk, grabbing his hand and yanking his sleeve up to display the familiar aura-reading twine wrapped around his wrist. "No, no! These are… bracelets! All the rage, back in my day—” Ace hurries to explain, gesturing animatedly with his other hand. The movement causes some cards to fall out of his sleeve. “And open-handed!?” you demand, hands on your hips. “Oh my, how did those get there?” Ace feigns ignorance, kicking the cards under a log. You bite back a laugh at his cheating antics, at this point knowing better than to expect him to play fair. “Guess that means you're scared of losing,” you say, a smirk pulling at your lips as an idea forms in your head. Predictably, Ace immediately perks up, taking the bait. “In your dreams, princess,” he says, puffing up his chest. “How about we raise the stakes? No perks.” You hesitate for a moment. Spine chill and urban evasion have saved your ass on countless occasions, but since you were only going to be hiding from Ace and not the killer… how hard could it be? “Deal.” When you fade back to consciousness, you’re standing by the Thompson house. You’ve spawned right by a generator, but instead of getting to work, you make your way towards one of the outside walls of the trial, crouching down to hide with a good view of two of the closest generators.

Soon enough, you see Ace make his way over to the machine you were just by, pushing through the corn and glancing around. Not seeing anything, he seems to frown before kneeling down to start his repairs. You snicker to yourself and start sneaking to the other generator, keeping an eye on Ace the entire time.

Halfway through your repairs, you hear Nea’s pained scream of taking a hit somewhere within the trial. It seems like she’s keeping the killer busy.

As soon as you hear Ace’s generator pop, you duck down and start making your way along the trial wall. You flatten yourself against a tree when you see Ace approaching, before he disappears into the pallet gym your nearly finished generator is at. With the wall blocking the crucial line of sight, you seize the opportunity to bolt away, the sound of your footsteps drowned out by the machine. You hear him opening a locker and scoff at the action; like you’d make such an amateur mistake.

Another gen pops, apparently Quentin’s handiwork, while you cut through the cornfield. You run into Nea, being chased through the corn, and quickly dive out of the way and crouch in a row of stalks as the killer—the Wraith, good to know—follows, not far behind her. Predictably, he doesn’t see you.

By the time you get to your destination, the second story of the house, Ace has gotten your generator done and Nea has been hooked and unhooked. The killer is once again chasing her, and from your vantage point you can even see her repeatedly clicking the flashlight in the Wraith’s face while looping the cow tree.

The generator on the balcony hasn’t even been started, but you’re waiting for Ace and Quentin to finish theirs first, working on a machine together in the corn right below the balcony.

Ace’s back is turned to you and he keeps glancing around, trying in vain to spot you in the field. Damn, if you'd only brought diversion into the trial, you would have thrown a pebble at him to confuse him further. Feeling cocky, you lean over the railing and wave down at the two instead. You see Quentin glancing your way with a smirk, before looking back at the generator.

“You need some glasses, old man,” you hear Quentin snark. “Huh?” Ace says, getting his wires crossed and making the machine explode as he whips his head around to look at the house, but you’ve already ducked down safely behind your generator. You wait for the duo to finish their repairs and disappear in the direction of the shack before starting the generator in the house.

When your generator pops and the exits gates get powered, Nea is just about to be death hooked, and hearing her final scream, you feel a little bad when you make your way to a corner of the map instead of pressuring an exit gate. But soon enough, you spot Ace running to the house to try to catch you leaving after your repairs, proving your hunch was correct—he’s so predictable, bless his heart. A little while later, you see him come out of the house and look around in confusion, but then you hear Quentin’s pained scream and Ace seems to sigh and utter a curse before running in the direction of a gate.

You try to find the hatch but have no luck, and then you hear a screech as one of the massive gates slides open, followed by Quentin’s wail as he finally goes down. You spot his prone aura by the shack, before it disappears into thin air; huh, guess he managed to crawl out.

Now knowing which gate is open, you start walking to the other, a little on edge not knowing where the killer is after losing his last prey.

To your surprise, Ace is pulling on the other exit gate’s lever, effectively ruining your plans. You start making your way back towards the shack, taking a detour to avoid the killer's patrol route between the gates.

You're a little nervous Ace is going to get found, taking an unnecessary risk in getting both gates open. If he gets caught, you're throwing your little game and saving him, the bet be damned. Though it's not going to be easy, with Nea dead and Quentin out and neither of you having any perks. Even though you’ve known the entire time you were both likely to die from this dumb game, thinking about Ace getting hurt still makes you uneasy.

Exit gate now in sight, you carefully look around for any signs of the killer. The Wraith could just be standing still in the exit, completely invisible to the naked eye. Even if he was there, you could just run out and take a hit in the back before escaping, as you know from Quentin’s chase he doesn't have NOED. Still, you'd rather not get injured at all.

There's no telling shimmer in the gate, so you decide to just go for it. You walk into the structure, and nothing happens. You're nearly out when you hesitate, turning to look back into the trial; what if the Wraith has found Ace? What if he comes out of nowhere, grabbing Ace off of the exit gate lever since neither of you has spine chill and—

There's footsteps right next to you and you try to whip around, but then someone is grabbing you from behind and your heart leaps into your throat as you let out a startled yelp—

“Gotcha,” Ace's voice whispers in your ear. The relief floods over your body even as you shove at him playfully, making him let go of you with a chuckle. “Fuck you! You scared the shit out of me!” you argue even while your face is splitting into a grin. “You're not the only one who can be sneaky, doll,” Ace quips, returning your grin with a self-satisfied smirk. “What are you even doing here? I saw you at the other gate!" “Ah, the old bait and switch," Ace chuckles. “I wanted to get both gates for you, so you didn’t have to risk the killer finding you. And then it was only a matter of luck! A classic 50/50,” he grins.

Damnit, what a stupid and dangerous and— …Kind of romantic… —and unnecessary and idiotic stunt!

“Get over here,” you say, yanking him closer by his shirt. “I missed you,” you mumble softly, hands wrapping around his neck as the surprise makes way for familiar affection. “I missed you too, sweetheart,” he says, eyes softening and a hand wrapping around your waist, the other coming up to cup your cheek. “I missed seeing this cute little face,” he says, pecking your nose sweetly. “You avoiding me wasn't nearly as fun as I'd imagined,” he jokes, but there's a tinge of uncertainty in his voice. “If it makes you feel better, I basically stalked you the entire time,” you murmur, leaning your forehead against his and a hand scratching at the baby hairs on his neck. “Though I almost threw a rock at you at one point.” He chuckles at the confession, a warm puff of air in the space between you. “Can't take your eyes off of me, eh?" he grins. “Not when you're being so oblivious and adorable,” you murmur. “Well, I clearly underestimated you," he admits, and is that a little blush you can see on his cheeks? “Likewise,” you smile. “So, what do you want for your prize?” “Oh I'll think of something, don't you worry,” he wags his eyebrows suggestively and you roll your eyes from the corny gesture. “But here's your consolation prize,” he says, finally leaning down to capture your waiting lips.

You eagerly respond to the kiss, moving your lips against his while your heart flutters from the affection, even moaning a little when Ace pulls you even closer against him. It’s all so familiar; the scratching of his goatee, the way he playfully nips at your lip, the scent of his cheap cologne lingering even after all these years stuck in the realm. You don't even mind losing the bet, not when you get to be in his arms and kiss him silly.

But then Ace is suddenly pulling away, lifting his head up to look back into the trial over the top of your head.

“I think we have an audience,” Ace says and you glance over your shoulder, his arms still around you.

There's a slight shimmer just beside the exit gate where the Wraith seems to jolt from surprise. A small pause later the familiar bell rings, and then you have an embarrassed killer in front of you, looking at the ground and sheepishly scratching the back of his neck. You just stare at him stupidly, a little ashamed over being caught making out in the exit. How long has he been standing there?

“Hey bud, thanks for letting us goof off this match,” Ace is thankfully speaking so you don't have to, but the words manage to confuse you. Was the Wraith in on it? You genuinely thought you'd been able to hide from the killer the entire time, especially since he was so focused on Nea.

The Wraith looks up bashfully, nodding his head and shuffling his feet. Then he pauses, points at you and then Ace, and makes a heart shape with his hands. Ace huffs out a surprised laugh while you blink owlishly, and the killer hurries to leave, ringing his bell and the sound of his footsteps scurrying away from the exit.

“Looks like we have a fan,” Ace muses, turning to look at you again. You smile up at him and you’re just about to lean back in for another kiss, when a realization hits you.

How did Ace know the killer was there? You saw him take off spine chill before the trial, and he hadn't even flinched like the perk usually makes you do when the killer is looking at you. Unless…

“Did you bring premonition!?” you realize, and now Ace does flinch a little from being caught off guard. “So, err, remember when you said some perks are so bad they shouldn't even be considered perks—” Ace hurries to make excuses. “You little shit!” you exclaim in mock offense. “You cheated! No prize for you!” “Aww,” Ace whines and honest to god pouts. “Fair enough. Damn, and I only did it to keep you safe… oh well, still worth it,” he mumbles defeatedly, mostly to himself. “Ugh, fine, get back here,” you grumble, pulling him into another kiss to stop him from moping because it's breaking your heart. 

When Ace just chuckles against your lips, you realize you've been played. Instead of snarking at him some more, you take advantage of his open mouth to shove your tongue down his throat and relish in the way his laugh turns into a needy groan.

And next time you're bringing the pebble, rules be damned.

[ficklefics]

Disobedience - Dhawan!Master x Reader ~smut~

The Master has rules. Rules you shouldn't risk breaking. Or maybe you should.

MASTERLIST

Requested by anonymous with the scene prompt Heavy spanking

(a/n: first time writing smut, let me know what you think! (I’ll get better, I promise!))

Warnings: Smut, BDSM, spanking, hair pulling, honorifics, praise kink

You fucked up. You really fucked up.

You could hear the Master yelling at you in your mind as you sprinted down corridors away from the beastly aliens that were chasing you. Telling you how stupid you were, how reckless.

It was his fault really.

The two of you had been exploring the seemingly abandoned space station when they had appeared – the reason it was abandoned. Ravenous, bloodthirsty creatures so massive that their backs scraped the ceilings as their claws dragged along the floor, acidic saliva spilling past razor-sharp teeth. The Master didn’t recognise what they were which made them exponentially more dangerous. They were stalking you through the halls, tracking your scent, your fear. Their only weakness – they were stupid. At least that’s how the Master put it.

So there you were, pressed against each other inside a far too small cupboard while they prowled only metres away. They knew you were nearby but couldn’t figure out where. Usually, you would have enjoyed being so close to him. Your chests pressed against each other, breath mingling in the air. You could practically hear the drumming of your single heartbeat against his two. But the threat of imminent death was a bit of a turn-off. “Please tell me you’ve got a plan,” You whispered, your voice barely audible. “I will.” He didn’t sound certain. And you could only wait so long before they found you. “I’ve got an idea.” He frowned down at you. “Do you trust me?” “Yes,” He spoke begrudgingly, “But what -” “Meet you at the TARDIS.” He barely got a word out before you were throwing the cupboard doors open and running out, past the creatures who you yelled at before darting down a random corridor. You hoped that you had managed to get them all on your tail and that the Master was making his way to the TARDIS. If he wasn’t, you were doomed.

You heard doors slamming in the distance and veered your path towards them, glancing back only to see that they were right on your heels. You pushed harder, faster, adrenaline pumping through your veins.

There it was. The TARDIS. At the end of the corridor you had first arrived in, blending into its surroundings as a service elevator with an out of order sign on the front. “Master!” You yelled, praying that he was there and that he would hear you. The door swung open and you saw him standing there, hand outstretched. The final metres seemed to stretch into an unending distance, time slowing as you tried to reach him. Finally, you did, his hand pulling you inside and slamming the door behind you. The door shook as the creatures rammed against it; you could hear them howling. Now that the threat was gone you stumbled on your feet, unsteady. “Go sit down,” He growled. “What-?” “Sit down, now.” You rolled your eyes but did as he said. There was no point arguing with him when he got into a mood like this. The console room was traditionally round, the console itself raised onto a platform, and benches were pushed against the rails. You sat in one of those and leaned your elbows on your knees, watching him pace and huff his way through taking off. When the sounds of dematerialisation at quieted, leaving only a gentle hum, he leant against the console and glared at the central pillar. An awkward silence filled the room which seemed to last for hours. You kept going to speak, even opening your mouth and inhaling to start, but you couldn’t figure out how to break the tension. He was angry, angrier than he had ever been. And you couldn’t quite figure out why.

Finally, he spoke. “What was the first thing I told you when I invited you to join me?” “I don’t -” “What was it?” “You told me not to put my life at risk, because you wouldn’t come to save me.” But he had already proven himself wrong countless times already. You didn’t see how this was different. “You never listen, do you?” He sighed, dragging his hand down his face in exasperation. “You could have gotten killed.” “We both would have died if we had stayed there.” You stood up and stormed over to his side. “I saved us.” “You disobeyed me.” “I didn’t know there were rules.” For every glare and snarl he sent your way you had something to bite back with. You wouldn’t let him talk down to you. You refused. “Well, there are!” He yelled. The sudden shout made you flinch back, almost afraid of him. He inhaled deeply, trying and failing to calm down. “There are rules, (Y/N), and you will follow them. Or else.” “Or else what?” You challenged, chin in the air defiantly. “You don’t want to know.” He looked away from you in an attempt to quell his anger. “And what if I do?” You stepped closer, lowering your voice. You were tempting fate, you knew that, practically begging for whatever twisted consequences were running through his mind. But you didn’t care. “Don’t test me.” He pushed away from the console and walked around it, away from you and towards the door that leads to the endless corridors of the TARDIS. You huffed, deflated, almost disappointed that he hadn’t followed through. “Can you at least tell me what the rules are?” You called after him, not expecting an answer. He glanced over his shoulder at you, glare still fully fixed in his eyes. “Rule number one: when I tell you to do something, or not to do something, you listen.” And with that he turned and left, leaving you to ponder what he’d said.

*

You were bored stiff. The Master and you had been avoiding each other since your fight, and while the TARDIS may have whatever you could desire, it couldn’t solve your problem. His words kept repeating in your ears, and other things as well. The way his voice sent a shiver down your spine and straight to your core, the heat that you had only started to recognise as being caused by him.

It was time to put his promises to the test.

You found him in the library. It was lit dimly by a small lamp that sat on the corner of the desk which his feet were propped up on. A book written in a language you didn’t understand was in his hands. You realised you didn’t actually have much of a plan – maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. But that ache reminded you of what you wanted, and what you were at least going to try to get. Sure, he might kill you; but it was worth the risk.

Usually, you would have called to him, announced your presence, but not today. No. Today you strolled quietly past the towering shelves to perch by him on the desk, unable to disguise the slight smirk on your face. “What do you want?” He growled, immediately tensing. He didn’t look at you. “Nothing.” You shrugged before reaching for the switch dangling from the light and turning it off. Now the only light in the room came from the doorway. The Master’s face was barely visible, cloaked in shadows, but he looked furious. Maybe you had read it wrong. Maybe… “Turn it back on, (Y/N).” Now or never. Last chance. You stretched your hand back out, playing with the switch but not turning it on. Instead, you leaned forward to whisper in his ear:

“No.”

“That’s it.” He growled, standing, the book discarded, and his now free hand wrapping in your hair, close to your scalp. “You want to push me? Fine.” He dragged you from the room as you yelped and struggled, clutching his hand with both your own. You stumbled over the feet as he strode through the corridors, leading you who knows where. Some kind of torture chamber? The idea shouldn’t thrill you so much.

He releases you only to throw you through a wooden door onto plush carpet. You hear it shut behind you, a lock clicking. Oh shit. You pushed yourself onto your feet to find yourself in a bedroom. Ordinary enough. A four-poster bed pushed against the wall with red sheets. You had never thought about the Master having a bedroom. Maybe he didn’t. Maybe the TARDIS had made this on his whim. “You want to know what happens when you break my rules?” You spun around to face him. He was breathing heavily, practically panting, looking you up and down. “You might not like the answer.” That was it. The final warning. Your way out. After this, there would be no going back. “Show me.” Show. Not tell. You both knew what was coming. Something dark flickered behind his eyes, something you recognised, something that stirred inside you as your imagination began to run free. You were daring him, daring him to take the bait, just like he was daring you. In two steps his hand was gripping your wrist and he was forcing you towards the bed. His bed. He stopped you and stood in front of you. “Now, you are going to listen very carefully.” You nodded, unable to stop the tremor in your hands from the anticipation. “Do everything I say, when I say it. I know that’s difficult for you.” It was a joke, but you weren’t meant to laugh. Another nod. “Use your words, darling.” “Okay.” “‘Okay’, what?” “Okay… Master.” The word sent a shiver through you, but he almost seemed to shudder when he heard you use his name, his title. “Turn around.” You did so, goosebumps rising at the feeling of his breath against your neck as he pulled your hair out of the way. Rough hands ran down your body and you had to resist the instinct to jump away. He wouldn’t appreciate that. You could practically feel his eyes examining you. Taking in every inch of your body, every flaw and imperfection, every curve, every joint, every scar and every freckle. You felt naked in front of him. “Now, what kind of punishment do you think you deserve?” His voice in your ear was low. It made your eyes flutter shut. “I… I don’t… I don’t know.” Now that the question was laid before you, you couldn’t name what you wanted him to do to you. There were too many ideas, too many images, all flying through your mind. “I suppose that means it’s up to me then.” You nodded, then remembered his words from before. “Yes, Master.” He circled you, like a shark; when your eyes linked for a brief second the hunger in his made your skin tingle. Once he was done he rolled up his sleeves and sat on the edge of the bed. “Come here.” You stepped to stand in front of him, uncertain, shaky. “Get those off.” He nodded to your jeans and your hands immediately flew to the button, fingers struggling to move fast enough. You shoved them onto the ground and kicked them away, a flush rising to your cheeks as you realised you were almost completely exposed in front of the Master. “You know what to do.” The image was clear in your mind. Maybe he put it there. So you did as you were told and bent yourself over his lap, steadying yourself with your forearms. It was embarrassing, humiliating – or at least it should have been. Instead, it sent a rush of heat straight to your core. You could feel how hard he was already, his bulge pressing against your stomach, and you had to contain your slight gasp. So you weren’t delusional. You hadn’t made up the tension between you for your own entertainment. When you felt his hand rubbing your ass you let out a moan, and he chuckled darkly. “Already so excited and I haven’t even done anything.” “Says you.” You rolled your hips against his and he groaned at the friction, making you grin. Your smugness is short-lived though as he grabs you by your hair again and pulls you up, making your back arch, to whisper in your ear. “Behave yourself.” He released you, letting you fall back down. “Now, you’re going to count each and every one of these. Okay?” “Okay.” A crack sounds through the room as his hand smacks against your ass, making you yelp. “Okay, what?” “Okay, Master.” “Good girl.” The praise sent a shudder through you, and you realised you would do anything to hear those words again. “Now, count.” The initial stinging was already starting to fade, but it was only the start. The anticipation set every nerve in your body on fire. This time the sound was duller, the pain less sharp, but the ache immediately set in. “One.” Another. Sharp, biting, sending spikes of pain through you. You gasped at the strange mix of pain and pleasure. “Two.” Again. You clung to the sheets below you. “Three.” “Four.” “Five.”

By the time you reached twenty your ass was raw and shaking. Tears welled in the corners of your eyes but you refused to cry. You had asked for this. This was your choice. And the pain still didn’t outweigh the arousal that was constantly building. The Master rubbed your tender cheeks and laughed at the way your body instinctively tried to move away from him. “I did warn you,” He tuts. You can hear the smirk in his voice. His hand drifted lower, thumb tracing light circles, before he dragged a finger down your pants, feeling how soaked they were already. Your heart was racing. “Really? Just from that? I haven’t even touched you yet.” Yet. The words were shameful, making you blush from embarrassment, but they didn’t change anything. Without warning, he pulled your pants to the side and his fingers dived into your wetness. You couldn’t contain your moans and gasps as he started to circle your clit furiously. There was no easing into this. Nothing gentle about the way he touched you, nothing sweet or caring. He wanted to make you suffer. And that very thought just turned you on more. When he went deeper you whimpered, gasping at the sensation of his fingers inside you, filling you, curling inside you. They thrust in and out rapidly, building up the tension in your lower stomach, pulling you towards the edge, until he pulled out, making you whine pitifully. He forced you to your feet, which you stood on shakily, chest heaving. “Open.” Your jaw dropped obediently and his fingers were on your tongue in an instant. You began to suck on them, tongue swirling, tasting yourself. His eyes were fixed on your face, dark, intense, watching and analysing your every move. So you closed yours, focusing on the sensation in your mouth. All too soon he pulled his hand away and grabbed your jaw. Your eyes snapped open and fixed on his. “Now,” He was breathing heavily, his own anticipation and arousal almost too much to bear, “Show me what else you’re good for.” You were on your knees before he had finished his sentence, pulling at his trousers. He chuckled at your eagerness and wove a hand into your hair. Your hands hesitated as you reached for his underwear, eyes flicking up to meet his before you pulled them down.

Fuck.

The sight of him hard in front of you sent a rush of heat through you. You instinctively wrapped a hand around the base of the shaft, pumping it and revelling in the slight groan that escaped his lips, before you inhaled shakily and wrapped your mouth around his head. You began to move your head and hand together, feeling him twitch under you as you worked to take as much of him into your mouth as possible. As you felt him hit the back of your throat, your gag reflex telling you to move back and gasp for air, his hands wrapped tighter around the back of your head and held you in place. You pushed at his thigh, struggling as the lack of oxygen began to dull your mind, filling it with cotton wool. Tears began to fall. Finally, he pulled you away, strings of drool hanging between your mouth and his dick as you coughed and wiped at your chin. “I’m almost impressed.” He pulled you back to your feet and captured your mouth in a biting kiss, all tongues and teeth and anger and heat. You almost didn’t notice him manoeuvre you so your back was to the bed. When he pushed you down you landed on your back with a bounce, scrambling so your head was resting on the plush pillows. “Strip.” Your top was discarded first, thrown to the floor with your jeans, and then your bra. You shivered at the feeling of cool air against your breasts, and at the way the Master stared at them, with a dark hunger. He straddled you, his own waistcoat and shirt discarded so he was fully naked, and dropped his head to wrap his lips around one of your nipples, sucking and biting while he pinched and twisted the other with his hand. You yelped and moaned at the mixed sensations of pleasure and pain, hands threading through his dark hair and holding him close to you. You felt his length bump against your leg, impossibly hard. When he rose his chest was heaving as he hovered over you. Fingers wrapped around the waistband of your pants and they were torn from you, the ragged shreds discarded. The Master balanced on one arm as he knelt between your spread legs, eyes fixed on your pussy, exposed and vulnerable. With his free hand, he began to rub his cock against your folds, making you shudder. “Please…” You couldn’t contain the plead. “Please what?” He was enjoying this. Enjoying your vulnerability, all for him and only him. He dipped in further, brushing against your entrance and then your clit but not giving you anything else. He wanted you to use your words. “Please, please just fuck me, please, I’m desperate.” You begged him, the words streaming from your mouth in one whining gasp. “Please what?” He hissed, leaning down so there was barely an inch between your faces. You stared deep into his eyes and spoke. “Please, Master.” The moment the words left your lips he pressed into you in one swift movement. In an instant, you were impossibly filled. He groaned into your ear as he began to thrust, slowly at first but speeding up quickly. With every movement, tiny gasps and whines escaped your lips. Your hand lifted to cover your mouth, embarrassed, but it rested there only a second before he grabbed both your wrists and held them above your head. You tried to bite at your lip, anything to contain the sounds, but it only made him thrust harder and faster. “I want to hear every sound you make for me. They’re mine. You’re mine.” He growled. The possessiveness just turned you on even more, if that was even possible. The room filled with your moans of pleasure as the tension coiled inside you grew tighter and tighter. You were getting close. You could feel it. And so could he. Suddenly his free hand was wrapped around your throat, squeezing just tight enough that your brain started to go fuzzy, somehow intensifying everything else you were feeling. And it pushed you over the edge. Your body tensed and shook, mouth agape in a silent scream of pleasure as he kept going through your orgasm. As you crashed back down your body was limp, pliable under him. His hand released from around your throat and he attacked the now exposed skin with his lips, sucking and biting and pulling more moans from you. His thrusts started to grow faster and sloppier. You laced a hand through his hair, tugging at it and pulling his lips to yours, the only dominance you could manage over him. He pulled away as he came, driving deep inside you as he filled you up, swearing under his breath. You were both gasping for air and he collapsed on top of you, naked bodies colliding. You whined in disappointment at the empty feeling as he pulled out of you. Curling into his side, he started to play with your hair absent-mindedly. The gesture made you grin – for all his roughness and aggression he was affectionate really. “You know,” You murmured under your voice, and you felt him look down at you, “If that’s what disobeying you ends up in,” Looking up, you smiled at him and the soft look in his eyes, “Maybe it’s not such a bad idea.” The hand in your hair tightened to the point of pain, making you wince and gasp. Still a turn on. “I wouldn’t risk it, love.”

Oh, you definitely would.

MASTERLIST

[youarejesting]

One Wish - BTS Birthday

[MASTERLIST]

Editors/Beta Readers: @yoongs-jeontae​, @jung-hoseok-s-airplane​, @absoluteyoongit​. I am thankful for all of you, it doesn’t matter how much or little you did the fact that you guys agreed to even look at my work was enough to make my heart happy. This has been a wonderful birthday. Thanks guys.

Pairing: BTS x Friend!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warning: none

Words: 7.8K 

This is for @yourmoonchild1023​. Happy Birthday! I know this was going to be a Jungkook Fic but I had to include all the boys. There are many Jungkook moments and a few Flirty Jimin because he just couldn’t stay away... So I indulged a little. I hope you enjoy.

You were celebrating your birthday a day early as everyone you knew was busy on the actual day. Though you appreciate that they took the time to celebrate early it did still leave you disappointed. There was something special about celebrating on the day you were introduced into the world. A day out of three hundred and sixty-five that you could call yours, sure you shared with others around the world but it was special to you nonetheless.

You never really paid attention to the process of blowing out candles, not since you were a child. Your only wishes were typical childish things like riding a pony, or joining ballet or playing an instrument. That was until today, where you physically paused and thought about what you wanted to wish for not knowing that one wish could change it all. 

I wish I could be mutual friends with the boys of BTS. You knew there was something smaller hidden in the wish but you told yourself that would be enough. Blowing out the candles with a soft smile, your friends cheered. It was a mess of plates and napkins but the cake was served. Your favourite flavour and made specially by your closest friend. Afterwards, there were a modest amount of presents, your friends knew you would rather have experiences then have them go broke to lavish you in gifts. The process of unwrapping presents contained a lot of amusing banter. 

As the afternoon faded into the evening you felt this kind of numb feeling in your feet that was slowly traveling up your calves.

Mentioning it in passing once or twice to your friends, they told you it was probably the way you were sitting and suggested you stretch your legs. Thinking it best not to speak of it again in fear you would sound a little annoying, you pushed it to the back of your mind. 

With both legs numb to your knees, it was an odd sensation trying to walk your friends out. But you made sure to wave goodbye to each of them in the driveway. It was a little sad but once they were gone a part of you felt relieved, you had a love hate relationship with friendly gatherings. 

As much as you enjoyed the company of friends it exhausted you quickly, and a big day like today you need to take some time to wind down a little.  

You turned and headed back inside, it was still hard to believe your parents were out of town visiting your relatives instead of with their daughter for her birthday. They said they would return early the day after, but you weren’t holding your breath. 

Knowing all well they would be late, your parents liked to talk, it was like once you hit a certain age you just couldn’t stop talking. To relatives, strangers in the grocery store and heaven forbid you answer their call, you would be stuck for hours while they pressed buttons with their face and video called you with the camera pressed to their ear. 

That night you ate leftovers and showered with a collection of new scented body wash from one of your close friends. Opening the sweet little present box that had been tied with a ribbon, you pulled out a new pair of pajamas. 

You remembered how excited you were seeing this very gift, the cute animal on the center of the shirt and patterned on the short. You squealed when you lifted the colored crepe paper to see your favourite animal printed on a soft jersey fabric. 

Said fabric felt so soft against your skin as you looked in the bathroom mirror with a grin snapping a photo to your friends. Your thumbs on the touch screen were feeling almost fuzzy, the nerve endings weren’t firing to the receptors in your brain. The sensations in your hands were numbing just like your legs were. Thinking about your legs you moved them experimentally and almost toppled over, everything from your waist down had lost all feeling. 

Exhausted and emotionally drained, you thought it best to slip into the warmth of your bed and get some sleep while it was still early. As the feeling of sinking into the mattress took over your body, you let your mind wander to what the boys were doing. Perhaps you could read a small fic before bed, you reached for your phone and as your hand wrapped around the small electronic device you were hit with a heavy wave of sleep.

Useless to fight against it, your body relaxed and you let out a small sigh. Your dreams were filled with lights that had you cringing at how bright and loud they were. You felt like you were flying, not a pleasant drift but the kind of G-force you might experience from a roller coaster. You couldn’t move and you felt a little queasy. 

But all too soon it settled down, the tension in your body relaxed and you were shrouded in darkness once more. There was an odd smell, it was pleasant, and the bed felt like a soft cloud. Rolling over, you could feel a warmth radiating under the covers. Wiggling until you were laying your back against the warmth and drifting back to sleep.

Your dream was interrupted by music, a deep voice you recognized as Taehyung was singing something you didn’t recognize. Perhaps you had left your music playing or you turned it on in your sleep. With the phone still held tightly in your hand you clicked the side volume controls trying to mute whatever song was disturbing your slumber. 

Feeling something shuffle in your bed was almost a cause for alarm but in your half sleep state you brushed it off. It wouldn’t be the first time you were convinced something was happening only to wake up and realize it was all in your dreams.

There was a groan by your ear, the warmth on your back moved and it felt like something was crawling across your waist. Peeking under the blanket, eyes barely open you saw a large forearm draped over your waist. You screamed, this seemed too real to be a dream. Throwing yourself off the bed, phone clattering onto the marble tiles. You scrambled away as the door opened and the light was switched on. 

Visibly shaking and backed into the corner you were scared. You dove for your phone and dialed for the police waiting with baited breath until you heard the operator.

“Hello, I think I have been kidnapped!” You all but shouted into the phone. The woman who answered spoke what you could only guess from your extensive immersion in the culture was Korean. Hanging up confused, you looked up at the seven figures standing all watching you.

Where the hell were you? You shivered at the idea of laying in bed next to some creep, glad you woke up when you did before anything could happen. Eyes travelling up the disheveled blankets to the man sitting atop the mattress looking back at you with wide doe eyes. The man looked just like the young singer from the posters on your bedroom wall. The way his bunny teeth bothered his bottom lip in worry. 

“You haven’t been kidnapped,” A smooth voice scoffed, following the sound to see a very good looking idol staring back at you in disbelief. You felt a sense of disbelief too, there on the bed was  Jungkook biting his lip in concern while the smooth deep voice belonged to the tall Namjoon. The figures became clearer the more your eyes adjusted, each looking just like they did in their posters and photo cards. 

The tears that fell from your cheeks were genuine. You understood they were the members of BTS but that didn’t excuse the situation and whatever mind tricks they were trying to play. Having been taken from your home and your bed, it didn’t matter what celebrities they thought they were, this was not normal and you were scared. “Please I don’t care what you think you are doing, I don’t know how the hell you took me, I want to go home.” 

You tried to call your friend, but only reached her answering machine, you forgot she had an important appointment this morning. You broke out into a sob and begged her to call the police. “I’m not at home, I don’t know where I am. I think I have been kidnapped.” The phone was snatched from your grip by the strong hands of Kim Namjoon. He hung up, turned your phone off and held it securely in his hand. 

Stunned completely at the thought of your favorite idol group being kidnappers, you begged them to let you go. You didn’t suffer through exams to have your kidneys stolen and placed on the black market. 

“We didn’t kidnap you. Look I am going to hold your phone because we can’t have you spreading false rumors. You can leave.” Namjoon gestured to the door. “No one is stopping you, you broke into our house and we should be the ones calling the police, but we don’t exactly want to deal with the press on the matter. So we can contact our manager and see what he will say. Most likely he will just send some people to take you away.”

They were being rational, if you were a celebrity and woke up to strangers in your house calling the police or security would be your first thing you would do. But being a celebrity of their status it made sense not wanting to be caught in such a scandal. 

“Hajima, Manager-nim will call gyeongchal, I don’t want scandal” Taehyung whined. He spoke a weird mix of Korean and English. Namjoon seemed to agree with a sigh, pocketing his phone.

“You really didn’t kidnap me?” You sniffed “Then how come I am here? Where is… here?”

“You are in our house, I thought you would know that?” Namjoon’s tone never lightening. He was furious that their privacy was invaded again. All the boys were scared, how had you got inside without them knowing.

“As in your home in Korea?” They collectively nodded, Seokjin asked something that caused Namjoon to hum in thought. 

“How did you get inside? It is impossible to enter through the balcony. All the doors and windows are screen protected and alarmed, you would have to use the front door. It is fingerprint locked.” Namjoon expresses what you assumed was Seokjin’s earlier question. 

The two eldest left the room, your eyes following their figures as you sat shivering in the corner. The floor was so cold and you were in a mild state of shock.

The two returned looking absolutely terrified, “The alarm didn’t Uh trip, last night and door says it didn’t open since we come home.” Seokjin spoke in a slow thoughtful tone forming his words carefully. 

“We could check, cameras and see, how she got in here, the front gate or hall,” Yoongi offered and the two left again, this time with Jungkook who felt sick at the thought of someone climbing into his bed. They moved you to the living room where you sat on the floor curled up, every now and then a few tears would slip.

“This is the weirdest birthday ever, I can’t believe I wished I could be your friends and then somehow I turn up here.” Your eyebrows pulled together in visible confusion and looked at them, Jimin and Hoseok seemed visibly torn, they were upset to see you upset but also a little scared of you. “Wait, if you think I broke in, how did I get here?”

“What?” Namjoon turned surprised by the strength in your voice.

“You said I broke in, I don’t know the code. I don’t speak Korean. I have evidence and witnesses to my whereabouts yesterday in America, which by the way is a thirteen-hour flight. So if I left at six from my house, traveled to the nearest airport for an hour and a half. Not to mention somehow had money for a plane ticket and the passport I don’t own. If I did all that I would get here at,” 

You counted on your fingers calculating the travel time and then the  time difference. “I would get here at seven AM my time, so at eight PM Korean time.” You knew it sounded crazy, but you needed them to believe you. 

Namjoon’s phone rang and he spoke quickly in Korean, you only caught Yoongi’s name. The rapper and leader of the band listened to what was said, his eyes flickered over to you, looking kind of alarmed. Before speaking rapidly and hanging up. 

“So, they looked through a week's worth of footage of the front gate and the hall and they didn’t see you at all. Either you have either been camped out in our house longer than I would like to think,” Scoffing at his audacity to believe you were willing to hide in someone else’s house. “Or, you are telling the truth, where is your proof?”

“Photos on my phone, on my Snap chat with my location. I have transactions on my card because I bought a cake yesterday in-store where they will have footage of me. My friend’s car has a dash-cam that records date and time so you can see the time people left my house and you can calculate the distance to the nearest airport and then flight times and I wouldn’t arrive before this afternoon. Seriously, I didn’t break-in.”

Namjoon sat back against the couch, rubbing his hand along his jaw looking exhausted, he turned on your phone and held it out to you. “Show me.”

Unlocking the mobile device, you started by showing him your bank details blushing at the tiny fortune you had. Nothing like showing multimillionaires you had eighty-five cents in the bank. The last transaction was indeed for a cake. 

On your Snap chat there was more, as you showed him the pictures you received a text from your friend. Eyes widening at the realization you had left her a particularly morbid voice mail. She was asking if you were joking. Quickly texted her it was a dream and you had been confused. 

Jimin licked his lips looking around smiling softly, he barely got a quarter of the conversation but seemed to understand you were innocent throughout this exchange. “I like your jam-os.”

“My what?” You asked, looking between Namjoon and Jimin questioning the foreign word, he gestured to his clothes. “Thanks I got them yesterday, for my birthday.”

“Your birthday yesterday?” He looked at you with a brilliant eye smile. 

“No my birthday is today, but nobody could make it. So we celebrated early and I got these jam-os.” he grinned as you used a Korean word he understood.

“I am sorry, for scaring you. We have had some really weird encounters with fans before.” Namjoon yawned, gingerly you offered him your phone thinking he would confiscate it anyway but he just gestured it away lazily. They all must have woken early from the morning scare. Hoseok frowned walking away to the kitchen, you didn’t turn as you were trying to mind your own business but you heard some cupboards opening and closing.

“I am sorry as well, for scaring you. That must have been horrible to wake up to screaming and then that disgusting feeling like your privacy has been invaded. I understand.” You mumbled trying to get your apology across sincerely. Hoseok returned with a tray full of cups of tea and coffee. He handed them to the young men present in the room including Taehyung who had been sitting silently observing you. 

Soon you felt a nudge, a cup of tea held out to you, Hoseok smiled making a cute face and giving a tiny whine. You giggled taking the cup and drinking slowly savoring the aroma of the barley tea. 

~

Once everyone returned from their endeavors with the security cameras. Namjoon explained that there had been a misunderstanding and something otherworldly had happened. “The idea that she could be in her home when she had fallen asleep. Only to wake up here in Korea. It doesn’t make sense. But her argument and evidence is rather compelling.” Jungkook froze, he trusted his hyung but this was a bit much. You couldn’t blame him, teleportation was only in stories.

There were still some skeptics within the group, who heard and saw all the information you provided and yet still didn't believe your alibi. "I have a question?" you said speaking aloud what you had been pondering for an hour now. 

"How do I get home?" They stared confused before their gaze shifted to Namjoon looking for answers. "I don't have a passport or visa or wallet of anything on me, how do I get home, without first being arrested for being an illegal immigrant." 

"And if I can’t get home. How do I stay and get a job? Where would I live? I just want to go home, this is the worst birthday I have ever had." You curled up on the couch beside Jimin and Hoseok, the two had practically dragged you onto the couch once they deemed you innocent. 

"Hey, is meeting us really that bad?" Hoseok made a small hmm sound while trying to peak at your face. His English was second best in the group you would say, mostly because he was so confident in using it that even when he made little mistakes here and there, you could still understand the meaning. "You wanted to be our friend right? How about we have birthday party hmm, we can make cake, and we can have party, what do you say?"

"That's it! And, I can wish to go home!" you said smiling and they looked at you curiously before shrugging. 

"It’s worth a try.” Namjoon was at a loss for options. 

“If this is all true, you being stranded and you're not a psychopath, we might as well celebrate. We can order some food. Do you have something in particular you like?"

"Uh... can I try some traditional Korean foods, I haven't really tried much and what I have tried probably won't be as good as the real thing."

~ 

Most of the boys stepped out, leaving Seokjin, Jimin and yourself in the apartment alone. The three of you making a cake while bopping to music in the kitchen. You helped them as best as you could, following their instructions. 

Instruction being general pointing at ingredients and a series of confirmation noises when you selected the correct measuring cup. 

They were so cute speaking English and getting flustered so you tried speaking Korean. Translating on your phone and saying it as best as you could, they were in stitches. It seems you had said a few things wrong much to their amusement.

They asked you what was your favorite song of theirs and you took a serious moment to contemplate before making a decision. 

"Uh my favorite BTS song with all seven of you is ‘No more dream’," you smiled happily at their faces which had both blanched “because it is the first song, it was what started it all. Without that song you would have never debuted, so I thank that song for starting your journey."

"What about favorite song from all songs, you know?" Seokjin smiled he mixed the batter. 

"Hm, my favorite song in general, would have to be ‘Magic shop’, there is nothing more powerful than taking something bad and turning it into something good. Plus your vocals and the raps are beautiful.” you waited for them to process what you said, their chests puffing up proud at your kind words. 

"What about the new album, what your favorite track?" Jimin leaned on the counter towards you with a sly grin making you laugh. 

"‘We are Bulletproof: the Eternal’ it is the perfect encapsulation of how you've grown so much and your still so humble and thankful for your fans."

"Who is, most handsome member?" Seokjin grinned, turning his head in a pose waiting for you to answer. 

"Hm, well originally I thought the best looking member was so obvious but now meeting everyone, you are all different from what I expected," you mumbled pretending to be really contemplating it before you spoke, raising the pitch at the end as if you were asking a question. "I guess you are?"

Jimin was laughing wholeheartedly at your unsure tone that made Seokjin blanch, “Ya I am World Wide Handsome, you know?”

Giggling at his reaction, the sound must have surprised them because they both stopped and stared at you. Jimin admitted you were cute, causing yet another blush to cover your cheeks. How many times were you going to turn red, was your heart migrating to your face. Cause it sure felt like it. 

Trying to bring their attention back to the cake in hopes they would ignore you as you began feeling a little too red for your liking. They seemed to take the hint, diving back into ingredients and leaving you to cool off. 

You walked away noticing a small upright piano against the wall. Lifting the cover you saw the clean keys and spent a brief moment trying to think of something to play, you knew a few of the novelty songs but not well enough. 

As you played a terrible rendition of the theme from titanic. The front door opened and you heard Taehyung and Jungkook voices grow louder as they entered further into the apartment. Singing and quoting the movie to one another. Yoongi, who was following behind the two youngest, was listening to you play, wincing as you struggled to find the right key. As he walked past he said something in Korean and leaned a hand down, moved your finger over one key. Flying out of your seat in alarm you backed away from the piano with a small, "sorry".

He paused and placed items on the bench, taking a small paper bag and rubbing the back of his neck. You heard him mumble something only catching Namjoon's name before he turned back to you. "Jungkook and I bought you this, dress for your birthday."

"Woah!" Jimin said, clapping for the older man’s English as he handed over the bag and retreated. Jimin swarmed over lifting the blue fabric from the bag and held it up and held it up to your body. Jungkook wars were a little pink as were yours you didn’t know what to say, hand flipping over the price tag your eyes flew open. 

"Oh! Uh, thank you. Are you sure this isn’t too much?” You looked at them nervously; this is the most expensive piece of clothing you had ever owned. Jimin grinned, placing it back in the bag, and handing it back to you with a grin before going back to the kitchen to start making more things for the cake. 

“Is there somewhere I can get changed?" You asked, looking around at the hallways trying to find a clue to the nearest bathroom. Jungkook nodded walking you past the kitchen and down the hall. He stopped outside a door and awkwardly gestured you inside before he shuffled off heading back down the corridor. 

You got dressed and brushed your hair down trying to make it look presentable and stared in the mirror. Thank heavens the dress had a built in bra because you hadn't slept in one that was good enough to wear under a dress. The sweetheart neckline and pastel blue was charming; it flowed and the skirt spun and out when you twirled. There were some white slippers as well that you slid your feet into and smiled at how comfortable they were. How had they managed to get your size right?

“Now you are ready for a birthday party,” Namjoon said, the voices of the others merely acting as background noise. Eyes turning to you made your cheeks grow hot, you turned around and covered your face. Chorus’ of gwiyeom filled the room and Hoseok made cute noises prying your hands from your face. He held them in his hands, spinning you around the room. 

“Hobi hyung!” Jungkook scolded the older band member in Korean and he stopped and shooed you away so they could decorate the dining room. Yoongi and Namjoon dragged you away to the home studio, giving the others a chance to set up for the party. Yoongi sat with you not willing to leave you alone with his equipment and Namjoon joined as well, as he didn’t want to ruin the decoration process. 

“We bought you presents while we were out grabbing snacks,” Namjoon smiled. “I hope you like them.”

“I think it is the thought that counts, the idea that you thought I would like something and that you took the time to get me something means so much already.”

“I wanted to apologize again for this morning, I want you to know I don’t go round accusing or traumatizing people.”

“Namjoon it is okay I wouldn’t believe you if you all turned up in my house, well maybe I would cause I know you, but if the roles were reversed and I was the idol and you seven turned up you bet I would be calling the cops on you.” You mumbled a smile gracing your thin lips.

“You are... smart girl.” Yoongi waved his finger with a grin and you smiled standing and looking around the room. You stopped by the door of the booth and turned to him gesturing. 

“Can I see inside?” He nodded and you walked in the door automatically shutting and latching behind you, looking around you saw the instruments. There was a tap on the door, Namjoon’s face appeared in the glass as he made a gesture of a claw like hand and his ears. 

Tilting your head for a moment you realized he meant headphones. Looking around you saw them hanging around the microphone in the middle of the room. You placed them on. “Can you hear me?” The deep lazy sound of Yoongi’s voice in your ears made your cheeks heat up. 

“Listen to this.” He played you a tune. It was a beautiful sound. It kind of made you feel a little smokey like your head would spin, the beat came in and your heart seemed to pick up as well. 

There weren't really any lyrics but a few repeated words and you grinned singing along to the tiny chorus whenever it came around and when the song finished you heard his voice. 

“What do you think… Uh of the song?”

“I loved it, it felt like a fever dream but I didn’t want it to end,” you felt stupid for not being able to compliment the music as intricately as you wanted to, no doubt sounding like an idiot. He hummed, making you a little self conscious, “sorry if that’s a lame review I’m not good at music”

“No it was good,” his voice seemed amused almost as if he was laughing at your expense, something you simply shrugged off.

“Can I listen again?” You asked nervously and he chuckled and the music filled your ears. 

The song was so fun and you hummed along. You sang the chorus happily hopping around and when the song was over you heard a giggle it wasn’t Yoongi. “You're cute when you sing.” 

“Wait you could hear me, I am so embarrassed.” 

You heard keys tapping and then a laugh “Can I use your voice in my song?” Yoongi asked as his mouse was clicking frantically. 

“Are you sure, it might scare your fans away.”

“It sounded cute,” the unmistakable sweet and saccharine tones of Jungkook’s voice right in your ears to be contrasted with Hoseok’s Orange Fanta that fizzed in your ears. 

“Come on, we finish decorating, come see,” his excitement glazing his citrusy, tart-sweet voice.

You hung up the headphones, heading out unable to refuse the bubbly rapper. Jimin smiled standing in front of you with a sly grin; he had a bandana in his hands and you closed your eyes so he could tie it behind your head. 

To prevent yourself from falling you gripped his jacket and listened as they spoke to one another in Korean and once the makeshift blind fold was secured you held your hands out nervously. A soft small hand took your left whilst a slightly larger hand secured the right, each squeezing gently, causing your eyebrows to furrow just above the blindfold.

“Follow the sound of the pipe, follow this song,” Jimin sang from your left, leading you forward. “It’s a bit dangerous but I’m so sweet.”

“I’m here to save you, I’m here to ruin you. You called me, see? I’m so sweet. Follow the sound of the pipe,” Jungkook was quick to join in and serenade you. His voice seemed so close and caused your body to grow warm. Talk about living up to your lyrics. They stopped no longer leading you Jimin’s hand slipping from yours and you heard the jingle of his bracelets as he ran across the room. 

Jungkook let go of your hand and stood behind you, turning you slowly, his hands on your shoulders as he finished the song out of habit. “I’m takin’ over you.” 

“Can I take the blindfold off?” Your voice was tiny and hesitant. Namjoon said it was okay and when you removed it you saw the dining room decorated with streamers and food and a pretty table cloth, the whole thing was elaborate and you were absolutely elated. 

They pulled you along until you sat at the head of the table, you were the guest of honor after all. Seokjin sat at the other end of the table and whenever you made eye contact he would wink. After the third or fourth time you decided to get back at him and waited until he filled his mouth with rice and when he looked up you winked causing him to choke.

After you had tried all the Korean food your stomach could handle you laid back in your chair and watched them eat the rest. Part of you was impressed and the other part felt a wholesome proud feeling to see them eating happily.

They all finished patting their bellies and Jimin smiled “Can we give presents?” He grinned and you looked down at the dress.

“Wasn’t this the present?”

“No, that is your par-ty outfit.” The way Seokjin said party in his accent made you giggle, each retrieving a gift.

“How did you get a gift you were with me the whole time?”

“We text Taehyung,” Jimin grinned slyly, his features taking up that of a Cheshire cat.

“I get all present… for you.” Trying not to squeal at how cute Taehyung sounded in English-and every other language- or when he threw you his trademark square smile  “So, I… me first!”

Yoongi and Seokjin took the dishes from the table to clear space and Taehyung bounced in his seat waiting for the boys to return so they could start the present giving portion of the evening. As the Hyung’s were seated once more, he placed a small present bag in front of you. The bag had a familiar light medium robin egg blue ribbon that made you feel slightly uneasy. You opened it carefully to see a pretty box and ribbon in the same shade of blue. 

“Is this Tiffany’s? This is too expensive, why would you waste your money on me, I’m a nobody.” Taehyung frowned and turned to Namjoon who explained quickly what you had said and he nodded realizing what you had meant.

“Don’t worry, we want make you happy, Baby” Jimin said and you blushed as the pet name was unexpected but you knew it was Jimin being Jimin. There were no hidden meanings; he was just a naturally affectionate, endearing and flirty guy. No wonder he had men AND women pretty much lining up for him.

“Please,” Taehyung seemed to be at a loss for words and just gestured to the small box with a pout. Nodding you opened the box to see a beautiful pair of earrings and matching necklace that were definitely too expensive and were so thin and delicate. They all laughed at the way you placed it gently on the table and eyed them all nervously.

“Who next?” Hoseok asked his eyes, meeting yours, asking you to choose who would give you their present next. 

“Me, Baby,” Jimin asked, giving you his pretty pout and puppy stare.

“Okay, Jiminie,” You smiled and he ran over with his small present box wrapped in a pretty colored foil with a ribbon and you opened it to reveal a pretty box, it was a perfume,  specifically Giorgio Armani’s Sì. You looked at it and Jimin blushed seeming to get a little shy at your reaction as you opened the box.

He turned to Namjoon and began talking rapidly about the perfume and they laughed. “Jimin says that he had tested this perfume at the store but he did not think it would work for him but he says it is sensual and feminine. When he was looking for a gift, he knew it would smell really nice on you.”

You spritzed a small amount onto your wrist, and dabbed it onto your neck below your ear and he leaned in making your body lock up and he inhaled softly. “Wahhh… pretty.”

At first, the perfume smelt like a sweet wine but as it settled and warmed against your skin it bloomed into a warm vanilla and soft freesia. He hummed and gave you a thumbs up.

Taehyung and Hoseok came over to smell and you were frozen, heart racing at the idea of these handsome and very famous singers smelling the perfume on your neck. Jungkook hesitantly leant in and inhaled pausing for a moment before breathing in again a pleasant smile on his face.

He sneakily took your hand while hunched over and slipped a small ring onto your finger with a grin. He placed it on your right hand ring finger and he smiled. When his hand pulled away you brought your hand up to your face, disregarding the boys shouting Jungkook’s name in Korean. It was a delicate ring simple yet elegant, floral themed with three daisies that resembled a flower crown. 

“It is a Yagsog ring. Uh… A promise that we, always, be here for you. That we will be friends just uh... like you wish for it, this flower you, and this flower is us and this one in the middle is today so you remember, good time together,” He grinned, making you smile. 

It was like they were being so sweet on purpose just so they could embarrass you. You were on the verge of tears again and you thanked him playing with the ring and not looking up. He walked away sitting back down and they continued taking turns, Namjoon got you a Korean language learning book.

Hoseok bought you a tiny white bag that was super cute and went well with the light blue dress. Seokjin, got you a few dozen pictures of himself - So you wouldn’t forget he was the most handsome member- and an RJ stuffed toy and key chain, which you attached to your bag with a giggle.

Yoongi gave you a pair of pretty white shoes and he said that a good pair of shoes would take you places. They were so cute, matching your bag. You believe they must have coordinated on the outfit because it looked very well put together. 

You put on the shoes, they had a slight heel and really completes the trendy look. It was while you were walking around and spinning that they turned the lights off and you almost toppled over but Jungkook caught you.

The candles were glowing in the dark room while they sang to you and made you feel absolutely loved in that moment. Because they were there with you celebrating your day of birth. Even though they didn’t really know you that well they still took the time to celebrate the day you were brought into the world. 

Learning things you didn’t know about the boys made it feel special and they learnt little things about you. You looked at the burning candles and you made the wish that you could return home even though you would miss them and would love to stay. It was for the best.

They cheered and when the lights turned back on, all you saw through the blinding light was Seokjin clapping elegantly like an angel, the light a halo around his figure. Jimin had your phone which he had been using to take pictures all night. He spoke quickly in Korean to the others, Jungkook agreed wholeheartedly pulling his phone out and touching it to yours. You heard a small ping sound from both phones and realized they must have transferred the photos.

You felt the numbness around your feet and you smiled sadly, “It worked. I will be leaving soon.”

“How you know?” Jungkook looked curiously.

“I feel the same numb sensation traveling up my legs that happened before I turned up here.”

It went quiet and you laughed at their sad expressions. “I will be out of your hair soon, but for now let’s have some cake.”

You all ate the cake happily before watching a movie together. They put on the subtitles for you and you were in tears laughing so hard. You started to lean against Jimin who had thrown his arm around you while you were watching and you snuck your legs over Namjoon’s lap as he had a blanket there. Everyone had fallen asleep and you were starting to feel uncomfortably numb. You slid out of their hold and gathered up all your things before you wrote a quick message on a piece of paper.

Thanking them for everything they had done to make your day so special. You were getting nervous, sat at the kitchen counter waiting for the numbness to take over, when Jungkook stepped in. He gave you a small grin and pulled out the cake from the fridge, he handed you a fork and the two of you sat there talking about movies, video games, books and music. He listened and laughed, every now and then things would get lost in translation and you would shrug while eating more cake.

“Milk?” He asked, opening the fridge and you shook your head, the feeling growing intense and you really felt sad about saying goodbye. Standing out of your chair you walked around the kitchen island and you smiled. 

“It was nice meeting you, but I think I am going now,” you said. He put the milk carton on the bench and wrapped his arms around you. He smelt fresh and clean like soap. He thanked you and wished you a happy birthday, even telling you how you smelt really nice. 

He watched as you pulled away and took a hold of the small box of presents.“I think you should put the milk away. '' He laughed and grabbed the milk carton and turned back to the fridge, his back was the last thing you saw before you felt yourself black out. The same strong arms that hours ago had scared the hell out of you, when you woke. It seemed quite fitting that you started your day with Jungkook and ended it with him too.

After all, that was the secret behind your first wish. Of course you wanted to be mutual friends with the boys of BTS but you secretly wanted to spend a day with Jungkook.

Like the first time, you were unable to move your eyes, they were closed as you saw flashing lights. You wanted to know what it all meant. When you woke, you were in your bed, the song Yoongi had played for you was running repeatedly through your head. Had it all been a fever dream?

You must have been influenced by something before bed and you had started hallucinating. Going to get out of your bed, you moved the blankets to see a box under the covers. You opened it to see the gifts they had bought you inside, you looked down and saw the blue dress and white shoes they had given you.

Sitting up properly you looked around when your phone started to ping multiple times as it had just come back into service. Your friends wishing you a happy birthday and asking if you were okay. You stepped out of your room and looked at the group of people sitting in your lounge room looking scared. Your friends, parents and police looked at you. You were hit with a bunch of questions and they brought up your voice mails and how they were worried for you.

“There were many voices in the background of one of the voicemails,” the police officer said. “Ah I was watching Run BTS.” You laughed awkwardly, secretly panicking. “It was probably one of the guys talking.”

“Where did you go?”

“I went to the…” Pausing to think of a believable lie, you hang your head in mock shame. “I went to the club. I didn’t drink, I just wanted to dance.” 

“The club?” It seemed your group of friends were ready to call you out knowing that wasn’t you at all. But you threw them a look as if to tell them to let it go.

“You can test me, officer, I really didn’t drink.”

“Look, mum you can ground me for however long you want, I just didn't want to be alone on my birthday.” You tried to play up the cards to your parents. “I really just danced and met a few people.”

“What were their names?” The police officer asked he had been taking a few notes as even if you were safe this incident would have to be reported.

“Jackie, Christina, Justine, Jennie, Monie.”

It seemed your friends were picking up on your lies and the police man sighed. “You don’t remember any last names?”

“Officer do you have a card, I promise you, it was just a stupid act of rebellion and if anything comes up that might be evidence to anything sinister, which I assure you one hundred percent it is not, I will call you right away.” You said trying to act as mature as possible to get them to leave without asking too many questions. The last thing you want is for them to investigate further and find out you were somehow in Korea less than an hour ago.

They nodded, handing over a card to you and another one to your parents. “I understand I am grounded, I won’t ask to do anything or for anything, I will do the chores and cook. I just felt upset okay. You had all left me alone on my birthday and I just wanted to forget how lonely I was and dance to some music and make some friends.” you explained.

“Before I am grounded, can I say goodbye to my friends? I am sure they were really upset and I would like to console them before they go home. It must have been scary. I wanted to message but my phone had died.” Your parents nodded, going to  lead the officer out apologizing for the trouble, seemingly relieved that you were found safe; they had been expecting the worst.

Shutting the door behind your friends they turned looking angry as hell. “What happened?” they asked.

“I made a wish and it came true” You breathed sitting on your bed, your three closest friends who had come to check up on you and stayed after giving their statements to the officer sat around you. 

“What the hell? Are you on something?” They looked at you in disbelief “Where did you go? What happened?

“Look, I wished to be friends with the boys of BTS and it came true.”  You said, showing them the photos on your phone. “I was in a lot of trouble. They thought I broke into their house like a crazy stalker and I cried for a while. Cause I thought I was going to prison.”

“How did you make this, Photoshop?”

“ I was in Korea. This isn’t a joke, they bought me presents. Do you think I can afford all this?” One of your friends lifted the lid of the present box you were given and saw perfume and high end luxury items. 

“How did you get back,” They were looking through the items and they saw the price tag from your dress. Turning on your phone once more you showed them the video of the boys singing to you and you blew out the candles.

“I wished to come back and I woke up back here in my bed.”

“You look cute.” They said after a few minutes of gushing over the fact you had met BTS and the high end presents they had given you and their meanings.

“Thanks they said my pajamas weren’t party appropriate.” 

~

After your friends had left your parents told you they would confiscate your phone. “Let me just assure everyone I am safe,” You had an old iPhone in your cupboard and you swapped the sim card over. This meant you were able to text your friends, in secret. You were lying in your room when a text came in a quiet vibration under your pillow, it was an unknown number.

“Are you okay?” you quietly read the text out loud and you blinked and texted back. 

[Unknown: Are you okay?]

[You: Who is this?]

[Unknown: This is Jungkook!]

You almost squealed. It was Jungkook, Jimin must have shared your number with all of them, when he touched the phones together. You loved technology. Quickly changing his name.

[Jungkook: This is y/n right?]

[You: Yes, This is y/n. I got home alright.]

[You: Is everyone still sleeping?]

[Jungkook: They woke and were upset to see you had left.]

[You: I was upset to go. My family and friends had called the police because I had been missing for so long. I had to come up with an excuse as to where I was and why I was dressed nicely. I told them I went clubbing and well now I am grounded. Until I die.]

As the days passed and your parents forgot about what had happened and you were given a little more freedom. The boys all took turns texting you, some more active than others, but you appreciated all of their messages. 

It was when a new mix-tape dropped from Yoongi that you were really shocked. The song he played you, it was on the tape. Still as beautiful as you remember, the rap was amazing and so creative. That’s when you heard it in the background was your voice. Your hidden vocals humming and singing along.

It was like a little secret no one knew except you and the boys. You wondered if you should wish to see them again on your next birthday.

[dememarquette]

True Crime

They parked outside a cottage. Portend Point was a gorgeous neighborhood. Occupying it, 1305 Parkview was an equally picturesque property. It had everything one could want from a gentrified postcard: a manicured lawn, a white picket fence, friendly neighborhood dogs excited to see you but not too excited. A sign advertised this slice of warm American pie could be yours. FOR SALE it said, smacked across an unfortunate realtor's forehead. Kevin Locklear had a new golf cart staked on this commission. In his desperation, which reeked as bad as the scene, he ducked below the police tape to plant an optimistic 'Open House Resumes Wednesday!' picket. Adria would take personal pleasure in throwing it in the garbage.

"Jean and Sidney Morin," She briefed, as Ian punched in the door code. "They're from New Gisen, reported missing 72 hours ago. Gas station footage has the suspect grabbing Jean at the Circle K. Sidney was seen by traffic cams in hot pursuit, but we have nothing after the first intersection. Men are checking doorbell cameras along the street. So far, nothing." The stolen car in the driveway was similarly combed through. Every stray hair inside was documented. There wasn't much left that wasn't bagged, tagged and sent off to the lab, but Ian liked one last intimate walk-through before tossing the keys to clean-up. If he was absorbing one word of what Adria was saying, it didn't show. Her partner worked like a TNT detective. Adria pictured the world bottoming out around him. He'd suffer 50 consecutive epiphanies after looking at something stupid like a tipped ketchup bottle, and construct a convoluted MO from there, but that's not how she worked. If reading the block text helped, murder's hooked on phonics, by God she'd do it. "Neighbors didn't hear anything. We have no idea where the struggle took place, if there was one. Judging from the looks of this place-" "It wasn't here." He said, tuning in only for silent confirmation. She nodded, and he killed the lights. His UV swept over the walls. The inside had the aesthetically-pleasing insipidity of a gourmet cracker. It had been sanitized for a showing, but according to the carpet, the perp wasn't admiring the crown modeling. A modest drip-trail led straight from the front door to the basement, and there wasn't a petal out of place before it. After a quick scan of the rooms composing the ground floor, Ian got his fill of Ashley HomeStore's heritage collection. To the basement they went. Each wood plank creaked under their feet. The floor consisted of a flat slab of water-stained cement. The space was fashioned into a man-cave. Shelves were bolted to the walls. All the sofas were leather. Posters on the wall were swapped for something more palatable, flanking an entertainment system that was to be marveled. In a move that didn't appear to serve any purpose toward the room's breathability, all the furniture was shoved to the side to clear the center. A single bulb hung by chain overhead. Energy funneled through a copper wire made it hum. Evidence photos never did it justice. The victims were strung together by a lawn hose. A single cloth gag- maybe a sheet- knocked their heads together, pulled taut at the pocket of their jaws. Their height difference forced Jean's face heavenward. The whites of her eyes were visible from the top, but you had to be at the bottom to see the shadow she sat in was actually a pattern. Their blood leaked into a paste-like outline, seeping color into the circle etched into it. Where the natural tug of gravity didn't fill the trenches, the killer dropped to their knees and started fingerprinting, casting away any macabre elegance it formerly had. Their hands scraped to fill the pattern all until it got to the bottom of the arc. Ian read her mind. "They were interrupted." "By what?" She asked. His mouth pressed into a hard line. He didn't have an answer. Instead he completed his circuit before dropping closer to the gag. Adria knelt beside him, her boots toeing the edge where the brushwork tapered. Fingerprints- fragmented and smeared- were shipped off to IAFIS. Problem was, when the suspect hadn't indulged in some casual DUI, she needed something to match it to. She sized her hand up against theirs, while the deceased husband stared on. Adria avoided eye contact. Violent crime wasn't anything new. She's seen her fair share since moving to the city, but never a throat cut this deeply. Sidney had been nearly decapitated. Skin folded off his Adam's apple like a bow-tie. Stringy matter underneath was on full display. "What about the design? Does that mean anything to you?" "The team is working on tracking it. So far they're thinking it’s some type of online cult." "And that?" She tipped her head to the bowls skirting the outline. Ian grabbed one, sifting through it with a finger. Its contents stuck to the latex, white. "Cinnamon, and salt. The last one's pyrite. Offerings." "Then what were they?" "Bait." The moment he said it the lights died. Ian shot up. Adria pulsed to follow, but her balance teetered. Neither were near a switch. "Who else is here?" "No one." The bowl Ian was holding warbled a low note, spinning where he’d been. He shouted from the foot of the stairs. "Has to be the breaker. Don't move." "What?" "Don't move." "Wh- I'm not going to touch anything!" Adria lurched on steel-toes. Offense had her fumbling with her flashlight. Sure. Okay. Fine. So in the past she hasn't been the most careful. Maybe she's stomped through one or two crime scenes. But never when it mattered! So it's not like she'd- Something blew past her ear.  With a graceless shriek, she made it a third. "God DAMN it!" Coagulated blood gunked to her jeans. She fell onto her back, swearing and curling to assess the damage. Ian would take one look at her and scowl. He'll do that smoldering, glower thing of his that she only liked when it was directed to other people. And then she'll have to go home, change her jeans, and hope he lets her back onto the property before they break out the body bags. He's going to see right away that- There's smoke? She dropped her knee. Sniffing, she swiveled. Air was escaping somewhere, hissing like a busted soda can. Whatever it was suffused the room. Her eyes burned just to move, but she couldn’t shut them. It could be more than the breaker- But that wouldn't explain why it was in the middle of the scene. With a yelp, she witnessed a spark fly between the corpses. Her heels planted into the floor. She kicked, hastily wedging distance between her and smog lifting off the concrete. She could've pretended she missed the class where she found out cinnamon was flammable. She could've maybe let it slide that denim wasn't an accelerant, but this was straight up sulfur. A ribbon of light unwound between them. A silhouette stretched out from behind it, towering. "Ian?" She asked, already knowing it wasn't. It had too many feelings to be. "What is this?" It croned. Miserably, it picked up a leg. "Ugh." Fingers acting faster than her brain, Adria whipped her gun from its holster "HANDS. Hands up, now!" "Sticky-" It groused. She heard a wet, staggered ppmf-ff. That suspiciously sounded like bodies toppling. In a maneuver she couldn't repeat, she blindly vaulted over the sofa, jamming herself between its backing and the wall. Her vision developed slow. First outlines, then shapes. Colors a little after when the smokescreen fanned out, blurring the glow around his face. She propped up her gun. Old leather gave away her position. The red light of eyes widened, vaguely cartoon-ish. "WHOA, hey now. Don't shoot." "Get on the ground." She ordered. "I said I wanna see your hands! Both of them, now!" "Aye-aye!" He complied. There was something sarcastic about the way his shadow wiggled to the floor. "Happy?" "Who are you?!" "Demetri Marquette, at your service." He tried to bow, until the violent rattle of her pistol suggested that was strictly prohibited. "What are you doing here?!" "Same as you, I imagine." "What?! What does that mean?" "You know. Working. The hustle." He shimmied. One by one, the candles surrounding them lit. The man in the center appeared nothing as he did in the shadows. His stature halved. The reddish glow vanished from his face, but most perplexing yet was that he somehow found a cover to throw over the bodies. With the blanket over them, they looked like fucking sock puppets. Adria sucked in a breath, sputtering nothing but inarticulated syllables for solid five seconds before, "Hey- stop fucking with my scene!!" "Oh- this?" He patted the victim's heads. The disrespect alone should’ve been grounds to fire. "I was meaning to talk to you about that. I'm sorry but two? Overkill. We’re not in the business of extra credit but I do appreciate the enthusiasm. So, uh. What's it going to be?" She swore nothing about this conversation was tracking. "Huh? "Money, fame, power, et cetera?" Nonsense! Complete nonsense. What was he implying? That this was an offer? A transaction for the bodies? It didn't matter. He overstayed his welcome before he popped in. And the fact he got in here at all may mean he knew something they didn't. This ridiculous, unexplainable suspension of belief kept her from feeling imperiled but this fuck was going to ruin the whole case if he didn't already. She pinched the button on the side of her walkie. "Ian, I need back-up downstairs now." The stranger sucked his teeth. "Ah. I wouldn't do that.” ’Oh my God, shut up. “Come on, talk to me.” He cooed. “What would make you more comfortable? Fresh air? The lights- is it the lights?" She glared, trigger finger satisfied with rapid-fire button clicking. Ian's hip would be going off like the fire alarm should be. "You know, I was going for ambiance, but." He snapped. Suddenly the power was back. She twisted from her fort. Corner to corner, stomping cleared across ceiling. The basement door creaked. Ian came swinging down the stairs, perfectly on cue. "The breaker fixed itself." He announced, sounding leery of it. "Imagine that," Said Blondie. Adria’s aim stayed fixed, prepared for sudden moves. There weren’t any, even from her partner. Ian’s velocity slowed to a stop. His grip on the handrail turned rigid before the bottom, tightening like it was the only thing keeping him upright. His eyes roved over the ruined scene, the magnitude of it driving a huge crease into his brow. He did not notice the stranger directly beside him. Adria desperately looked between the both of them. "He can't see me," Demetri elaborated. "Adria?" Said Ian. The gravelly rumble of his voice asked fifty questions- none of which she had an answer to. She had a gun aimed at nothing. Two bodies were down, bizarrely set up for a picnic. "I-..." She stuttered. "Word of advice," Demetri picked a piece of lint of Ian’s shoulder. The detective reacted with only the slight drift of his eye-line, before his attention snapped back to Adria. "Don't say anything or you'll buy yourself a ticket to a psych eval." "Ian, you can't-?" "Nevermind. From this angle, you already look insane." Ian waited for her to continue but she lowered her gun. If he was right, there was no coming back from this. "...I thought I saw someone in the smoke." "Smoke?" There was no smoke. No fire, no light. Demetri's trapeze around the basement hadn't even left footprints. To Ian, she used the two minutes he was away to go nuts. Just lose her mind. Sanity to the wind. Who needs to critically think when you can barricade yourself behind a sofa, wildly waving a gun around? Defending yourself from scary shadow people that a paid electricity bill keeps at bay? Ian stared, impatience surging from a quiet simmer to a boil. She realized it’s been too long since she even tried answering a question. "Are you alright?" He rephrased. What she heard was ’Are you an idiot?’ Her face burned hot. "I think-" She slung her bag over his shoulder. "I think I need a minute. I'll be back." The tight set of his jaw meant he agreed. She ran past him, bolting for the cruiser. Now she was going to have to type up an incident report. Scrub her pants. Contemplate the onset of her paranoia induced insanity, and hope they wouldn't take her badge for this. She threw herself into the front seat of her cruiser. The door slammed behind her. Before she’d let frustrated tears get the better of her, she pulled up a Chrome browser. Occult. Satanism. She typed. Demon summoning. Symbol. All the results looked close. Matching the exact twisted pattern would be a nightmare. "Mind if we hit Starbucks?" Demetri necked her seat. She jolted, narrowly stopping herself from throwing her elbow through his eye socket. Knowing he was fictional made her wish she hadn't hesitated. "Why are you in my car?!" She swiped at her face. "For a frap. Hopefully. Is butterscotch still in season?" "No! Get out." His cheek squished against her headrest. "Aw, c'mon." She adjusted the rear-view, only for him pop up passenger side. "I get it." He said, proving he did Not actually. Devoid of any understanding of what 'Get out' meant, "More of a Dunkin' girl. That's fine I guess. Oh! Hope you don't mind. I dug through your glove department. I was trying to get to know you." He waggled a scrap of stationary. "Does the department know you're dating? Seems naughty. Is that against HIPA or something?" She flustered, red-faced. That note had been in Ian’s lunch. "OUT!" "I mean, I'm not judging. I like it. You'd think detective romances would get cliché but ugh." He pressed it to his heart. "There's something so enticing about seeing the ugliness of humankind hand-in-hand with the one you love. A real testament to love's resilience. Do you listen to Rihanna?" We Found Love belted from her speakers. Forget the psych eval, now she had to worry about the HOA. "What do you want, huh?!” Adria punched her stereo. “What do you want? Why are you here? Turn this OFF-" "I want to know what you want." He shrugged. "I want you to leave?! I’ve said a million times!" "No can do. Gonna need something more substantial. Unless, gasp." He made a show of patting down his slacks before producing a pen. The document it came with looked real and official. Spooky, until it came to 'Officer Hardass' at the top of a memo. It read "I forfeit my eternal soul to get Demetrius Marquette to GTFO" in gold. She looked down at the paper, head reeling. This was a fever dream. A nightmare. A joke, but she could feel the weight surrounding the document. Metaphysical. And as tempting as it would be to physically take his pen and jam it through his palm, five finger fillet- "NO." She shouted, chucking it back at him. "I'm not selling anything." Rihanna's chorus guttered and died. Its volume fell with his face. Hopeless indeed. "I don't get it." He huffed, impossibly exasperated. Like she was the one being objectively difficult here. "Why did you even summon me, then? What's the point?" "I didn't summon you, asshole! Some psychopath did!" "Huh." He pondered, deciding that did make more sense after-all. "...SO GO AWAY." "EeeeeEEEH. I don't think I will." He kicked back in the seat. A pair of sunglasses slid down his nose, gilded logo hitting the sun just right. How did a Dolce and Gabbana sales associate see him but not Ian? "You see. The problem is that I'm here now. I can't go home without something to show for it." "That's not my problem," Adria said, incredulously. "YOU are my problem! I don’t know who you think you are, but I don't owe you anything. You came onto my scene, jeopardized my career, made me look like an idiot, and now you're making my car smell like eggs!" Demetri recoiled. For a moment she thought she got through to him. Then it became abundantly clear it was just the egg part, actually. "Wow." He said. Hurt gave his voice a raspy edge. "Wow..." “So GO AWAY.” She tried for two. Three would be a taser. “You- you know what?” Demetri splayed his hands. “Fine. We’re done here. I’ll go-” “THANK YOU.” He scowled. “-I’ll go, but I will be back. And when I return, we're continuing this discussion in earnest. I hope, I sincerely hope Detective Kyro, that you think about it." She wouldn’t. But he vanished before she could say so. - - - By the time she got home, the scene was cleared. Since it had been cataloged ad nauseam, there was no need to report his partner’s lapse in sanity. Ian let it go. He covered her ass by risking his to shuffle in clean-up before anyone with a badge audited the damage. She got off easy. Despite earning every letter of a psych referral, confrontation fell away into 'unspoken' territory. He said nothing, but it was strongly encouraged by his cancellation of their Friday after-work happy hour that she take an extended weekend to 'rest.' That part he phoned in without her approval. Defeated, she threw off her jacket. She hooked her gun belt on a peg by the door. Her jeans were just going to burn- they were as good as cursed as far as she was concerned. There was nothing left to do but take a long, hot shower. Maybe she’d feel better if her skin ran hotter than the shame. The rest could be dealt with Monday. What choice did she have, really? She jammed a thumb through her braid. The plaits fell loose as she kicked off her boots, Adria went through the motions of attaining tentative comfort. And the moment she thought she could let it go (until she’d inevitably replay it at all again tonight) she smacked into the chest of someone in the bathroom. Her bathroom. This motherfucker made himself at home. “So,” His finger wound in the cord of her hairdryer. Freshly washed, and expertly coiffed, Demetri smelled exactly like her body wash. "Did you think about it?"

[la-regina-scrive]

The Truce

Length: 3.4k words

Summary: Sephiroth and Cloud agree to a truce. Feldspar and Obsidian return. Enemies-to-frenemies antics.

“You are out of milk.”

Cloud jumped about two feet in the air as he startled. He fixed his wild glare in the direction of the refrigerator, and sure enough, he was there. That asshole. With the carton in his hand. 

To punctuate his point, the asshole lifted the carton to his mouth and took a swig, then rattled it to illustrate that it was empty. 

This was not the first time Sephiroth had appeared inside his home. But it happened just rarely enough that it always caught Cloud by surprise. 

“How do you keep getting in here?” he demanded. 

“Your threshold is not barred to the likes of me, Cloud.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Without waiting for an answer, he stormed up to Sephiroth and snatched the empty milk carton. 

“It means that I can walk through that door as easily as I can walk through you.” With no further warning, Sephiroth strode forward and passed through Cloud like he was nothing, leaving Cloud with the sickening feeling of his cells shifting and then resettling. Any anger dissolved in the unease and thrill of terror it sent through him, and he dropped the empty milk carton as he brought his hands to his face and chest to make sure everything was still in the right place. Satisfied that he seemed to be intact and not deformed in any way he could detect, he caught his breath and tried to calm down. 

Sephiroth was seated on the couch, waiting lazily for Cloud. The anger returned as he beelined for Sephiroth, but it didn’t burn with the same heat. At least with Sephiroth seated, Cloud could glare downward at him, and didn’t have to worry about another cellular shuffle right away. 

“What are you even doing here?” Cloud asked. 

“Getting something to drink, or at least trying to,” Sephiroth replied with a wolfish grin. The flame of anger intensified. 

“I mean why are you getting something to drink here. With me. Instead of anywhere else.”

“Am I not an old acquaintance? We’ve known each other so long. Had so many shared experiences. Would you turn me out of your home?”

Gods, he was such a smug little shit. Such an asshole. Cloud gritted his teeth. “I would. You aren’t welcome here. I hate you and wish you stayed dead for good. Now get out.”

“Well that won’t do, perpetually linked as we are. Perhaps, Cloud, this is an opportunity to mend fences. Bury hatchets.” Sephiroth gestured his fingers in a tight loop, adding, “That sort of thing.”

“You want to make up. You. Want to make up. With me.” Cloud tried to sound as deeply cynical as possible.

“Yes,” Sephiroth answered, but the arrogant way he spread his arms across the back of the couch undercut any attempt at sincerity. “I’m willing to let bygones be bygones, if you will.”

“Oh, you, you are willing. So gracious of you! You haven’t even apologized to me, or to Tifa, or, or, or to anybody else in Avalanche!” Cloud’s voice increased in volume as he continued. 

“Is that what it would take?” Sephiroth asked. He still looked far too comfortable but the question sounded legitimate. Cloud was ready to break his face in with his fists if this turned out to be some kind of joke, so he took the bait.

“Not just that, but it’s a start. You’d have to say you’re sorry. To everybody. And you’d have to mean it. You’d have to sound contrite, not do any of your smug asshole routine,” Cloud said, gesturing up and down over Sephiroth’s general appearance. He raised an eyebrow, but Cloud ignored him. “Maybe, maybe if you expressed some genuine regret we could start the healing process. And no more, you know, coming in here and bugging me and raiding my fridge and phasing through me like some kind of goddamn ghost!” Cloud’s voice was hitting the highest pitch of his register by the end of his speech.

Sephiroth brought his hands together, tented his fingers, and looked thoughtful. 

“These would be acceptable truce terms,” he said after a long moment. “Is a kowtow necessary or is vocal contrition sufficient?”

“You could bow.”

Sephiroth’s mouth twitched. “That would be pushing it.”

“Oh? Oh would that be too much? Well nuts to your pride. I want a ninety-degree bow. For everybody.”

Sephiroth’s eyes narrowed. “Tifa and the others will receive one bow. You’ve killed me enough times that I consider us even.”

Cloud knew they were nowhere near close to even, not by a long shot, especially because the so-called killing never seemed to take. But if it meant the end of these unwelcome visits to his home he was willing to take it. 

“Fine. Okay? Fine. It’s a deal.”

“Then we have a truce. Does that mean I can stay?”

“No it doesn’t. I still hate you and want you out of my house. Did you really come here just to drink my milk and bug me? Really though, I have to know, now that I’ve agreed to this shit. Are you even sorry, at all? Do you have any actual regrets?”

To Cloud’s surprise, Sephiroth looked thoughtful and clasped his hands together. He looked up and seemed to give some real, genuine consideration to the question. 

“I do have a regret, in fact,” Sephiroth answered.

Perhaps, Cloud thought, Sephiroth was serious about this whole mending fences and burying hatchets business. He was still going about it in the most obnoxious way possible, but maybe Sephiroth really meant it. 

Sephiroth continued with complete sincerity, “I had two cats. I abandoned them. I haven’t seen them in eight years.” His eyes were unfocused, staring into the distance. 

“I hope they’re okay,” he added.

Sephiroth had barely finished the word “okay” before Cloud’s fist connected with his jaw, and there was an audible crack as the bone fractured. 

“You asshole, don’t fuck with me!” Cloud yelled, throwing a second punch. Sephiroth caught this one, and followed up with a tackle since he was already at the perfect height. The coffee table collapsed under their combined weight as they scuffled, getting in a few stray punches. Cloud was mostly able to hit him in the back, while Sephiroth had the easiest time going for Cloud’s stomach. Sephiroth yowled as Cloud gave a fistful of silver hair a good yank. He attempted to follow the hair pull with a hit to Sephiroth’s jaw in the same place, but Sephiroth leaned forward out of the way and shoved Cloud aside. 

They got to their feet, standing apart, catching their breath and glaring daggers at each other.

“You broke the truce in a pitifully short time. That counts as your apology,” Sephiroth said, bringing a hand up to his jaw.

“Hurts, doesn’t it?”

“Tch,” Sephiroth hissed and dropped his hand. “It’s nothing.”

“Yeah I bet.” Cloud noticed a visible bruise, but not much more. He knew Sephiroth could soak a few broken bones but it still felt good. He knew even for a SOLDIER they still hurt like hell. Sephiroth was visibly restraining himself from working his jaw, showing that at the very least his pride had been wounded.

Still, Cloud was a little interested in finding out what the story was behind Sephiroth apparently having cats.

“So what, are there a couple of starving cat skeletons in the ruins of your house?” he asked.

“Hardly. I left them in the care of a woman who looked after them from time to time. I had planned to be gone for several weeks, I was not going to leave them without supervision.”

“So what? Do you think she threw them out?”

Once again it looked like Sephiroth was giving the question serious thought.

“I doubt it,” he answered. “She might have found them a new home but she wouldn’t just get rid of them. As cross as she might be with me, she would never take it out on the cats.” Sephiroth looked up at Cloud. 

“Cloud, I require the use of your telephone.”

Cloud glared, wanting to refuse, but curiosity and sympathy for the animals got the better of him.

“Fine, yes. You can use the phone. It’s in there,” he said, motioning to the room upstairs. “I’ll show you.”

---

It was a long shot but then again, Ms. Dimakos had never changed her number. At the very least, she could tell him what had happened to Obsidian and Feldspar. He picked up the receiver, dialed the number, and slouched into the chair. He brought one leg up to rest it on his opposite knee, making deliberate eye contact with Cloud as the phone toned into his ear. A feminine mechanical voice reported that this number was no longer in service but that the call would be forwarded to the latest contact on file.

Cloud glared like he was trying to bore holes into Sephiroth’s skull. The bruise on the corner of his chin still smarted, but like hell he was going to acknowledge it. Cloud could glare all he liked. Puny, insignificant--

“Hello?” A young woman’s voice asked through the phone.

He switched seamlessly into business mode. Automated. From another life.

“Hello, I’m calling to reach Ms. Dimakos. Is she available?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, sure. Hold on a minute.” There was a rustle as the phone handset was set down, and then faintly he could hear the girl’s voice call, “Grandma! There’s a man on the phone for you.”

It would probably take a few minutes for her to reach the phone. He tapped his gloved fingers against the desk. 

Cloud was still keeping a close eye on him, but clearly it had given Cloud some pause to see him using the phone like a perfectly normal person, as if basic competency in social graces put him on the same level as an average, mundane human. 

Besides, this was for Spar and Sidi. He would endure indignity for their sake.

With another rustle of the handset, a new voice came on the line. “Hello? This is Ruth Dimakos speaking.”

“Ms. Dimakos, it has been a long time since we last spoke. I’m calling to ask,” and he paused, wondering how exactly he wanted to phrase it. Behavior that was a little more average and mundane than he would like. “I’m calling to ask if you can tell me what you did with an orange cat and a black cat that were left in your care eight years ago.”

“Oh my, you can’t possibly… you can’t possibly be the owner? Where have you been all this time?” She sounded incensed. “Of course I kept taking care of them but by this time they’ve lived longer with me than they did with you. Where on Gaea have you been all this time? I would hope you have a good explanation!”

It would not do to mention most of those eight years were spent being dead, on and off again. 

“You have every right to be upset with me but I assure you that I would have come earlier if I could. I was in the hospital convalescing with a terrible illness. But, you say, you still have them? In your care now?”

It would do. He didn’t particularly want to see the look on Cloud’s face right at that moment. The man could give him some privacy on the phone while he attempted to piece his family back together.

The tone that Ms. Dimakos was using changed immediately. “Oh, oh I see. That is a shame. Still, I wish somebody might have given me a call! But, yes, well, that can’t be helped. They’re both here, a little bigger than the day I took them home but just as healthy. Are you still sick?”

“No ma’am, I believe that my time convalescing has come to an end. I do apologize that nobody was able to contact you on my behalf.” He wondered what, exactly, would be a believable disease that would have left him unable to communicate for eight years but could also be firmly behind him. A coma perhaps? What was normal for an average human body?

“Well. I suppose since I’m hearing from you now, you’ll be wanting them back? I’m sure they’ve missed you.”

It was terribly common for humans to anthropomorphize animals in inappropriate ways. He doubted that Spar and Sidi had much awareness of who exactly was caring for them as long as their needs were adequately met. And yet, the idea that his kitties had missed him tugged at his heart like a stuck fast fishing hook. 

“If that is alright with you. I understand this has been an imposition. I would gladly compensate-” 

“Wouldn’t think of it! You won’t find me taking advantage of a man’s illness. Just come get your kitties, alright?”

“I will. Thank you Madam. Where do you reside now?”

“I moved out to Kalm a few years ago to live with my granddaughter, what with the whole kerfuffle going on. I’ll give you the address. Do you have something to write with?”

He didn’t, but he said yes, knowing he would remember. He committed her information to memory and gave a brief farewell before hanging up.

“Well,” Sephiroth began, looking back up at Cloud. “This has been a lovely visit. A pleasure as always but I will be on my way.”

“I’m going with you,” Cloud declared.

“...You are going with me? For what purpose?”

“I don’t trust you. Not with that woman and not with those cats.”

“Oh come now. Why would I do anything to hurt Spa- to hurt my own cats? If I didn’t care for them I would have just consigned them to whatever Fate they would meet on their own.”

“I still don’t trust you. I’m coming, and that’s final.”

“Very well,” Sephiroth said, getting to his feet. “Then we’re on our way to Kalm. After a stop to purchase a cat carrier.”

---

Cloud had had no idea what his afternoon would look like. His schedule was open for naps, tinkering, television, reading, spending time with people, or any other possible pleasant thing he could have been doing. 

What he would never, ever have guessed was standing outside an old woman’s idyllic Kalm cottage, next to Sephiroth, who was holding an empty cat carrier in each hand. Not the cheap plastic kind either, the canvas kind with mesh and a clear plastic window.

“You’re sure this is the place?” Cloud asked. He knew Sephiroth probably remembered the right house number, but it pissed him off that Sephiroth insisted on not writing it down. Who was he trying to prove something to?

Without answering, Sephiroth strode up to the door, set down one of the carriers, and knocked. 

A few moments passed before an old woman with white hair and thick glasses opened the door. “Yes?” she asked. 

“Ms. Dimakos, we spoke on the phone earlier. I am here to pick up my cats.”

“Oh, yes, come in.” The old woman turned toward Cloud and squinted. Now that she was looking straight at him, Cloud could see the cloudy eyes behind those glasses. “Is there someone with you?” she asked. 

“Yes. He can wait outside,” Sephiroth answered, but Cloud quickly closed the gap and said, “Actually I’d like to come in please.”

“Of course,” Ms. Dimakos said. “Both of you, come in. Please excuse me, my eyesight hasn’t gotten any better. Can I offer you something to drink?”

“No thank you,” Sephiroth answered. 

“Not thirsty anymore?” Cloud asked with a pointed look. Sephiroth returned it.

“...Actually a glass of water would be quite nice, Ms. Dimakos,” he amended.

It was a minor victory, but Cloud regretted it almost immediately. Now he and Sephiroth were alone in the living room. He had never seen an explosion of color like this woman’s couches. Every inch was covered in tiny printed flowers. 

He decided to stand, while Sephiroth took a seat. He wasn’t sure quite what to expect, but a moment later there was a small trilling “qrr?” noise and a black cat appeared. Sephiroth did not move. The black cat trotted over to Sephiroth and sniffed at his boot extensively. After what felt like ten minutes of careful examination, Sephiroth withdrew his left hand from his glove and extended the hand toward the cat. 

This the cat sniffed for only a moment before headbutting into Sephiroth’s palm. Not only that, the black cat purred. It weaved between Sephiroth’s calves as he continued to pet it. The creature did seem unambiguously pleased at the reunion.

Cloud glanced up. Sephiroth was smiling, the kind of soft genuine smile that would look like sunshine on a good person but instead looked like it should curdle milk on the face of an asshole responsible for so much death. 

Cloud heard a “myow” chirped from his left as an orange tabby entered through the doorway and beelined for Sephiroth and the black cat. 

“Feldspar, there you are,” Sephiroth said, still wearing that smile. Both of his gloves were off and the black cat was on the couch next to him. Feldspar came up to sniff Sephiroth’s hand, then headbutted much in the same way the other had. 

That was a terrible name for a cat, and Sephiroth was still an asshole. But the cats seemed happy. 

“What’s the black one’s name?” Cloud asked. 

“Obsidian,” Sephiroth answered, his eyes still on the cat. 

“Both of those names are awful.”

“What’s wrong with them? Are they any worse than ‘Cloud’?”

Cloud was going to retort but the little old lady shuffled in just then, with a glass of water that had a single ice cube in it, so he held his tongue. She came over to Sephiroth and handed him the glass. 

“Oh, my, they seem so happy to see you!” she said. “I knew they had missed you.”

Sephiroth gave each cat a glance and a headscratch before standing up and taking the glass from her. He downed it in one smooth gulp and then set the empty glass on the side table on top of a coaster.

“Thank you very much, madam. I truly appreciate you caring for Feldspar and Obsidian all of these years, and for all of the times you cared for them in the past as well.” He took a step to the side so he could give her a proper bow, fully bent at the waist. Cloud kept his teeth gritted. 

“Before you take them and go, I would like to ask you something,” Ms. Dimakos said. 

“Of course.” 

“What is your name? I never knew what to call you, all this time.”

“Oh,” Sephiroth said. He hesitated. “It’s really not important,” he said. 

“Please, indulge an old woman. It feels silly just referring to you as a client.”

“My name is-” Sephiroth began, and Cloud could tell he was about to lie. He was pretty sure the fake name Sephiroth was about to give started with an “M.”

“His name is Sephiroth,” Cloud interrupted. 

The look Sephiroth gave him was worth the whole trip.

“Oh, like the war hero!” Ms. Dimakos said. 

His eyes still locked with Cloud’s, Sephiroth said, “Yes. Just like the war hero.”

She chuckled. “To be honest, I’ve had my suspicions. I thought you were just a shy SOLDIER.”

“You knew I was a SOLDIER?” 

“Even with my eyes I can see yours glowing. You’re a large man, too, I can tell. It wasn’t too hard to figure out. But you’re famous! No wonder you keep tight lipped.” She smiled and gave Sephiroth’s hand a pat, which caused him to flinch. “To think, they said you were missing when you were sick in the hospital. Our secret then, eh?”

“Yes, our secret,” he agreed. He pulled his gloves back on, apparently wary of the old lady offering further hand pats.

She made some polite conversation with Cloud and got his name for good measure, then sent them both along on their way with two full cat carriers and well wishes. 

---

Back at home, Cloud reclined on the couch, the wreckage of the coffee table cleared away. He would handle that later. He deserved a nap after the afternoon he’d had. 

A dark brush in his peripheral vision and a twinge at the back of his mind told him that Sephiroth had already returned to bother him some more. Cloud hauled himself up to a standing position and readied his fists to knock his old adversary into next week. So much for the truce.

As he entered the kitchen, though, there was no sign of Sephiroth. All that had changed was the addition of a fresh carton of milk on the counter. 

“At least put it in the fridge, asshole,” Cloud said to the empty kitchen as he picked up the carton and put it away.

-

Special thanks to @nautilusopus​ for the beta and @fury-brand​ for the original idea as well as the prompt that inspired this sequel.

[squeeneyart]

Breathe in the Salt - Chapter 11

AO3

Beta read by @thesnadger​!

Martin wants to do the right thing.

It's time to make some phone calls.

Martin resigned himself to a day of catch up. The recent circumstances hadn’t been the most conducive to completing his work tasks, but he was employed for the time being. He would wait for the right time to reopen the can of worms upstairs and in the meantime double down on the figures in front of him. The others went to work as well, going through the records they recovered from the library and verifying some information from the storage house.

After some time, he heard Sasha ask, “Martin? This place used to be a bigger fishing town, right? Before the Lukases showed up.”

Martin thought for a moment. “I don’t think it was that great to begin with? I’m sure they didn’t help, but the problem started long before I was born. There may be some people old enough to remember when things were a bit better, but it’s always been a shaky business despite the proximity to the sea.” He paused, then asked, “Is there a reason you’re looking into this? Doesn’t sound very ghost-related.”

Sasha tapped her pen on the table. “It helps to get a timeline of major events. Even if there are coincidences, a broader historical picture often helps with places where the phenomena are… far reaching.”

“What, did the lighthouse eat all the fish?” Martin laughed, but it quickly died as he continued to think about it. “...Could it do that?”

“Doubtful,” Jon said, keeping his eyes glued to his laptop. “It’s possible the family saw an existing, natural decline in job prospects and swooped in to create an even bigger vacuum they could then fill. Nothing supernatural, just horrid people finding a  good opportunity.”

Tim snorted. “While they just so happened to buy and operate a possessed lighthouse?”

Jon looked over his screen. “People can have multiple motivations. For example, Peter Lukas apparently enjoys boating and taking the possessions of others for the fun of it. The two aren’t necessarily related.” His eyes dropped back to his task.

“Fair enough. Maybe someone in the family won it in a bet, then? Swiped it from some evil lighthouse keeper.” Tim wiggled his fingers.

Martin laughed silently through his nose and went back to work, assuming his part of the conversation was completed. If he’d learned anything from the situation earlier that morning, it was to quit before weird personal details about his deadbeat fisherman dad came out and ruined the mood.

The three continued to debate possible motivations and causes, eventually trailing off and lapsing into a focused silence. The scratches of pen on paper mingled with the tapping of the keyboard. It created an arrangement that echoed over itself in a round, filling the space and tunneling upward along the staircase. Despite himself, Martin strained to hear anything that felt out of place, but he could feel no intent in the repetition. It was loud, but it was the normal, unnerving loud he’d become accustomed to over the last few months.

There wouldn’t be anything, as long as he kept the dial in the correct position. Not anything he could perceive, anyway. Were they listening, even if they couldn’t stockpile his words? Were they seething at his decision? Were they-

Martin gritted his teeth, willing himself to focus on the page in front of him. The group would call Naomi soon, and if she responded they would be one step closer to confirming his suspicions. For the time being, he would sit with his churning insides and wait.

Relief came at eleven with his lunch hour, which the others were considerate enough to wait for. He barely tasted the sandwich he’d thrown together that morning. There was a heightened atmosphere spread across him and the others, a buzz of excitement. After hours of necessary but tedious paperwork and discussion, it was time again for action.

Sasha dialed the number and waited, drumming her fingers on a pad of paper in front of her. “Available number,” she mouthed, giving a thumbs up. A few seconds passed, and she frowned and ended the call. “But, of course, it is no longer her number. I would change mine too, if people were tailing me.”

They all slumped in their chairs and braced themselves for a long, slow afternoon as Sasha looked at her pad of paper and dialed the first number on the list of many, many Naomi Hernes.

Some answered with varying levels of politeness, mostly responding with “never heard of the place” or “the name doesn’t ring any bells”. Otherwise, she left a short, scripted voicemail giving little information other than Evan’s name in hopes that Naomi would take the bait. She kept their institute out of it entirely.

When asked why, Sasha explained that this part of the investigation would have to be off record. Evidently, the Magnus Institute encouraged thorough research until it involved digging into its own benefactors. Unless they discovered a lead that didn’t implicate the Lukas family, they would be on their own.

The minutes ticked on, dragging more and more with the lack of success. After thirty minutes of fruitless calls, Sasha said, “It may take a while. We don’t know her schedule or if she’s even on this list. I was able to go off her last recorded location, but that’s about it.” Sasha leaned back in her chair, stretching her shoulders.

Jon pulled his laptop back in front of him. “We’ll need to give her time. If she’s aware of the Lukases keeping tabs on her, she’ll probably be wary of us. Keep going through the list. Tim and I will continue with the rest.”

Martin sat around for the rest of his lunch hour, losing hope with each passing call. He ought to have considered how long it could take to reach her, or that she might not answer at all. Why would she? What reason did she really have to trust a bunch of strangers?

He looked down at his phone, mindlessly flipping between apps before settling on his notes. Under Naomi’s old number was the one for Evan’s mobile, locked safely away in the storage house. Running his thumb up and down the side of his phone, he peeked up at the others through his bangs.

“I know we’re waiting to hear back from Naomi, but-” They looked at him, and he swallowed hard. “We know who it probably is, right? We have something he would know, and we could even-”

“Sorry, Martin, but that’s a big ‘no’ from me,” Tim said, crossing his arms. “If it’s him, he can wait a bit longer. If it’s not, then there could be something bad on the other side that we’re not ready to deal with, something that might even pretend to be him given the opportunity.”

There was an edge to his voice that made Martin shrink sheepishly in his seat. Tim’s face grew soft. “You want to help. I get it, but we should play it safe for now. Once we’re certain of the situation, we’ll do the heroic thing and release his trapped soul or get him out of the sound booth he’s locked himself in or whatever it is that needs to be done.”

Martin nodded glumly and looked back at his phone. After a moment, a notification popped up on the screen.

Tim: and if we get him out and hes as hot as they say he was, then who knows ;)

All the tension in Martin’s shoulders was released with a high-pitched snicker that his hand failed to stifle. The other two turned their gazes on him. Martin’s ears turned beet red at the attention he’d brought upon himself. Jon shot a suspicious glance at Tim, whose broad smile denied nothing.

--

By twenty minutes to four, there had been no sign of the person they were hoping for, ignoring  one response by someone who thought they were being hilarious. Martin had only one task remaining before it was time to leave, and once his things were carefully packed away he walked over to the stairs and placed a hand on the rail. From behind him came the sound of chairs squeaking against hard tile.

Looking over his shoulder, he saw the three had all risen from their seats and were shooting surprised looks at each other.

Martin sighed. “I’m just going up for my normal work stuff. I won’t be touching anything I’m not supposed to.” Not that the thought hadn’t crossed his mind, but if he’d wanted to do anything there in secret, which he didn’t, there was no point in doing so when other people in the building could hear every amplified word.

“Well, I’ll be coming up anyway. Might as well get a better look at what buttons you’re pressing.” Tim jogged over, waving a hand at the other two dismissively and calling over his shoulder, “Don’t worry, I’ve got this. Keep an ear on the phone and text us if something comes up.” Jon and Sasha, who’d clearly been about to walk over and join them, sat down despite their visible apprehension. Tim started up the stairs, leaving Martin to trail behind.

Before long, Tim began to rely more and more on the handrail to keep his balance. About halfway up the stairs, he held up a hand for Martin to stop and dropped his head.

“Okay,” he said, flexing his grip on the rail. He took a moment to breath. “Okay, I’m good. Damn this place, though.”

When they reached the top, Tim faced the stairs and, at a regular speaking volume, said, “Hello? Tim Stoker to Boss Man.” He waited, then checked his phone. “Huh. Guess sound does have limits in this place. Good to know.” Tim smiled at Martin. “Let’s see those switches, then.”

Martin could see that Tim’s eye was just as drawn to the dial as Martin’s as they approached the panel. Martin slowed down his process, taking care to show Tim what he was doing with the different buttons and knobs, and Tim seemed to be taking notes on his phone.

“If it would help, I have a list of everything I do up here on my desk. My handwriting isn’t the best, but it’s legible.” Martin continued to complete the steps without thinking, allowing muscle memory to take over. “Not that I’ve looked at it super recently. I also have the version in my work contract? But that would have to wait ‘til tomorrow.”

Tim nodded, shoving his phone in his pocket. “Sounds like a plan. Who knows, maybe there’s a hidden ‘I cede my right to file a claim against any injury due to imprisoned spirits’ clause or something in the fine print.” Martin laughed weakly but said nothing. Leaning on the side of the panel, Tim looked at him. “You really think it’s the guy? Evan?”

Martin’s finger slipped, missing a button entirely. “...Yeah. I can’t think of anything else it could be? And I get it, there are some things I don’t know about-”

“Lots of things, actually. Look,” Tim stood up straight, crossing his arms. “I’m not usually the lecturing type, but you seem like a well-meaning guy, and this thing could very well be taking that from your voice and turning it back on you.” There was an unmistakable discomfort, though Tim was doing his best to look authoritative. “You’re not used to this stuff, but most of it ends up being not so nice.”

Resuming his task, Martin looked down and asked, “Have you ever… studied something like that?”

From the corner of Martin’s eye, he could see Tim shift a bit and lean against the panel again. “They’re something I’ve worked on, yeah.”

After a final flip of a switch, Martin looked back at Tim whose gaze was firmly centered on the window. Martin rolled his fingertips on the surface of the panel. “Any personal experiences or advice? For my benefit?”

Tim took some time to think, and without taking his eyes from the window responded, “If you can shut them up, make sure they stay that way.” Tim let out a breath through his nose. “And if someone’s got by one, chances are they won’t be kept alive. Once a copy is made, there’s no reason to keep the original.”

The bitter twinge in Tim’s voice warned against the questions forming on the tip of Martin’s tongue. If Tim was talking from experience, the specifics were none of Martin’s business.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Tim shook his head. “So, since I was the one who turned the dial, do me a favor and keep away from it?” When Martin nodded in agreement, Tim uncrossed his arms and pushed himself off the panel. “Good. It’s a deal then. Now, when we get back down, we can pretend to have had a riveting talk about how fish hate your town.”

--

Once they were back on the main floor, disappointment washed over Martin. “Was it too much to expect anything back so soon?” He looked through his bag, making sure he hadn’t forgotten anything.

“You get used to it.” Sasha paused from collecting some papers to watch him sulk in his corner. “Can’t tell you how many follow-up calls I’ve made that led to nothing.”

“Or all the numbers we’ve gotten that were for takeout places,” Jon grumbled.

“I dunno, I’ve been pretty lucky with numbers.” Tim winked at Sasha, who shoved some of the papers into his arms.

Martin smiled, though Tim’s comment reeked of forced levity. He zipped up his bag and walked to the door. “Let me know if anything comes up?”

“Of course.” Jon pushed himself out of his chair and walked at a brisk pace to meet him. “Could I have a word with you, before you head home?” He opened the door and gestured outside.

“Oh. Sure?” He avoided Tim’s very pointed eye contact and walked through the door. Jon followed behind with his arms wrapped around himself, his thin, long-sleeved shirt doing nothing for him in the cold. “Do you need to-”

“I’ll be back inside in a moment.” His stubbornness did nothing to protect him from the shivers. “About tonight.”

With all excitement and distraction gone, the weight that had been balancing precariously in Martin’s chest dropped to his stomach like a lead ball. “Is there a way to make this not horrible?”

Jon frowned. “I don’t know the full circumstances, but ultimately, I believe you’ll be doing the right thing.” He placed a tentative hand on Martin’s shoulder and gave it a stiff pat. He immediately retracted his hand and wrapped it back around himself, keeping his eyes on anything but Martin. “You know her better than I do. I’m sure you’ll be able to handle it.”

Martin clung to that confidence and the feeling of pressure from Jon’s hand. “Okay...” He took a large breath. “Okay. I should get going then. No point in putting it off.”

Jon nodded his head and hurried back inside, leaving Martin to walk home with more courage than he’d managed to gather for himself. As the sun drifted closer to its exit, Martin latched onto that little encouragement and thought of what to say.

“Hi, Mum. I found your skin? No, that sounds weird-”

“I know there are things I don’t understand, but-”

“Mum, I found this in the attic. I know it’s yours. Do you want to-”

“A guy from work said to give you this? Wait, no-”

And so he continued, muttering under his breath all the ways he could broach the subject without it being a complete disaster.

This could change things.

Would she scream? He’d never heard her truly scream. It wasn’t her way, but this could unlock something so much worse than he’d known. How dare he bring this to her if she’d hidden it for a good reason? That seemed a likely reaction.

Would she talk to him about her time in the water? Would she reminisce about a time before things went wrong, when he would watch her from the porch? Too hopeful to consider, but nice to think about.

Perhaps she would tell him to return it to the attic, and it would never be spoken of again. Things would be as they always were, just with a new secret to hang over them both. Another weight on their shoulders, another little barrier keeping them from being anything but what they had been for decades now.

Jon had said it would be the right thing to do. He would know about these things more than Martin, right? His word had to be worth something. No matter how she might react, this had to happen sooner or later.

The walk home sped past like nothing. The front door was before him, and then closed behind, and he felt more than ever like he was on a track, being moved from place to place without any consultation of his will. The night proceeded like clockwork, dinner prepared and completed with only his voice and the occasional terse response from his mother for filler noise. It wasn’t yet time.

The fog had rolled in thick as evening turned to night, and they looked out into it from the front porch, her breaths steady and bracing. Through his barely open eyes, Martin saw a hint of rolling waves before the salt brought out the tears and washed away his vision.

He walked his mother back inside and helped her prepare for bed. Once she was settled against the headboard, Martin coughed and began in a low, gentle tone. “Mum. Can I talk to you about something?”

She frowned, tired contempt rippling across her face. “Must you now? You’ve had all night to talk.”

Martin clenched and unclenched his teeth. “It’s important. Please, it’s...it’s about something I found in the attic.”

His mother froze, her hand gripping the quilt on her lap. Annoyance gave way to a wide, blank stare that brushed just over his shoulder. “I did not ask you to retrieve anything from there.”

Martin shrank back. “Yes, I know. I just went up to make sure there hadn’t been a-any issues with the roof after some of the rain recently since we keep some things in storage up there, and I wanted t-”

“Bring it to me. Now.” Her voice was quiet, almost too quiet for him to hear.

“Oh. Right. Of course.” Martin stood too quickly, grabbing the rickety bedside table for balance and causing a loud thump as one of its legs slammed into the ground. The dim lamp on top of it wobbled, creating unnerving shadows on the walls. He winced. “Sorry. I’ll be right back.”

He left the room and let himself breathe. Okay, he thought, this was a good thing. He walked up the stairs two at a time with his long legs, speeding down the hall while keeping his footsteps as quiet as possible. She wanted him to bring it to her. He would do as she ordered. Everything would be okay, he told himself, ignoring the strange sinking feeling in his gut.

It was where he’d left it, folded loosely in the corner to avoid any possible creasing. It pressed heavily into his hands, and he brushed off a little more dust as he walked back down the stairs. At his mother’s door, he paused and adjusted it one more time to a position he felt was the most dignified. Then, he entered the room.

She was looking out her window, through the misted glass and into the fog that surrounded their home. Her hands were limp over the quilt, one placed gently on top of the other. When the door clicked shut behind him, there was an almost imperceptible turn of her head, though he couldn’t see anything but her clenched jaw.

“Mum? I’ve brought it. Do you want me to place it on the bed? I-”

His mother turned to face him fully, and as her eyes locked onto him a torrent of pure fury slammed into his chest. He stumbled, the selkie skin almost escaping his large, clumsy hands.

“Give it to me.” Her rasping voice made Martin’s throat hurt, and her neck seemed to throb with effort. When he failed to move his legs, she forced out, “now, you stupid man!”

He tripped forward, and when he was within reach she snatched the skin from him. She clasped it to her chest just as Jon had that morning, with the same smoothing motion over its surface. Unsure of what to say, he became a statue. Every muffled intake of air burned down into his chest.

Taking in a shuddering breath, his mother whispered, “Leave.”

“What?” There was a painful crack in his voice.

“Leave me alone.”

--

The only thing he could see were his own near-faded footsteps as he climbed up the cliff side, the fog doing well to obscure the surrounding foliage.

He needed to be out of the damned fog. That’s why he’d fled the house, and the beach, and the crashing waves. That’s all it was down there, a house adrift in grey nothing, and he was too loud of a presence to truly give her solitude with his tramping feet on the floorboards upstairs.

It was past sundown when he reached the end of his climb, and the corner lights looked as much as they had the night before. As they had on any other night he’d spent wandering the dark, emptying streets. Pulling his coat more tightly around himself, Martin marched forward, drawn to the only other place to which he had a key.

He looked up before he could think too hard about it, and the sky bore down on him until all he could do was fall back into the gaping pit waiting just behind his heel. Had it felt like this before? Yes, it had, hadn’t it? A giant emptiness in the ground waiting to swallow him whole, and as he had seen it, so from it the vertigo had come. Only now it was polite enough to slow down and let him see the horror below.

He woke up on the ground with a groan, just outside of the florist shop. It was closed for the night, and there was no one inside or out to stare as he lifted himself out of a puddle, the arm of his coat soaked through with water. He was halfway through trying to regain some semblance of focus when he realized his glasses had fallen from his nose and were now lying on the ground beside him.

Relieved that his impaired vision was no worse than usual, he reached over to pick up his glasses. As he did so, he glimpsed at the water’s surface, and for just a moment the blurry vision of his face looked just enough like someone else. He gasped, snatching his glasses and scrambling to sit on the curb.

She’d never called Martin that. She’d had other ways of showing her frustration with him, but that… that had been for someone else. Of course. He hadn’t even thought to warn her of his re-entry, so he had gone into her room and with just that lamp by her bed the doorway must’ve been so dark-

The pounding in his head grew more fervent, and he curled into himself until he faced the ground, head between his knees. As the minutes crawled by, the pain began to subside, and eventually he was able to stand, even if there was a slight shake to his legs.

“Twenty years and still you don’t learn.”

He continued without reason, thankful for the empty road ahead, his arm going cold in its dripping sleeve.

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

S.T. REWRITE - S2:E6; Chapter Six, The Spy - [Pt. 4 - FINAL PART]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

Will’s connection to a shadowy evil grows stronger, but no one’s quite sure how to stop it. Elsewhere, Dustin and Steve forge an unlikely bond.

||3rd Person POV||

Will stares ahead at the map of pictures sprawled across the table before him. Per his instruction, the medical team had gathered and allowed his mother, Bob, Mike and more importantly, himself to see their record of the maps he had created. The other doctor stands with the others impatiently, finally, he breaks the silence.

"Sam, this is ludicrous."

Dr. Owens is quick to silence him.

"Just give him a moment, okay?"

"We don't have time--"

"Hey, jackass," Hopper calls, cutting the man off. "why don't you do us all a favor and shut up, okay?"

Will rises from his seat, and Owens begins to herd the doctors away, making room for him to circle the table. His eyes studiously scan the paper trails, and it brings him to the end of the conference table. With a steady hand, he points to the pooled photographs that form the hub.

"That's it."

Owens steps forward, leaning down ever slightly and speaks gently.

"That's what? What- What's there, Will?"

A frown flickers across his face.

"I don't know." He mumbles. "I just know he doesn't want me to see there. I think it's important."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Under Owens’ word, a team of the lab's soldiers and scientists gear up for their journey into the tunnels.

Elsewhere, Steve and the kids prepare for Dart's arrival. Max, Dustin, and Lucas prepare the bus as their base while Steve secures the surrounding area.

The quarantine doors of the lab's entrance to the tunnels open with a hiss. The team of soldiers step forward and into the affected area and prepare the elevator. Hopper and Owens watch anxiously from the other side of the glass as the team lowers themselves into the network of underground tunnels.

Steve begins the trail of gasoline, starting at the pile of bait that had been left for Dart and towards the entrance of the bus. Max finds a rusted latter in a pile of clutter, the perfect size for the bus's roof entrance.

The elevator reaches the pit of the tunnels, the grated metal floor touches the molded ground and the team disperses. One of many soldiers steadily adjusts the attached camera on their suit. Above ground and back inside the lab, one scientist adjusts the screen and assures everything is in place. He unfolds the rough sketch of the tunneled system taken from the conference room map.

"Let's see if this kid's a wizard or schizo, Doc."

Owens and Hopper shift uneasily, and Hopper runs a coarse and calloused hand across his face in his nerves. The scientist at the control panel switches on the coms, the action creates a harsh ring as the sounds adjust and he leans forward into the mic.

"First door on your right, gentlemen."

The team in the tunnels steadily gather information, their flashlights raised and weapons poised as they begin their trek.

One by one, the kids file into the bus. Steve is the last to enter, assuring everyone makes it onto the bus. He takes one last lingering look around at their work and notes their timing. The sun had just begun to set and the golden rays of sunlight had just begun to kiss the horizon, they had finished just in time.

He steps inside and the bus door slams shut, closing them all inside as they begin their long wait.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Night has fallen and with it a soft sheet of fog blankets the junkyard. Far enough from city lights, the stars are visible, hanging brightly in the night sky. His binoculars around his neck, Lucas ascends the creaky latter to the top of the bus. He positions himself on his stomach, where he can safely hide behind the barricade of tires they had procured.

Ignoring the knots that cool in his stomach from the frightful thought, he begins his shift of lookout, eyes peeled for any sign of Dart.

Inside, the others rest wait patiently as for any signs of activity. Max has occupied one of the vacant bus seats, and she sits slouched, arms folded less than impressed with the outcome of the night. Bored, she watches Steve across the bus as he routinely flips and closes his lighter, his eyes trained on it in a weak attempt to combat boredom.

Anxious to pass the time, and her curiosity peaked as to why her high school stepbrothers rival was in on the charade, she attempts to make conversation.

"So you really fought one of these things before?"

He tears his eyes away from the small flame in his hands to meet her eye. He gives her a flat smile and nods silently before returning his attention to the lighter. With one swift hand movement, it clicks shut and he returns to his physical mantra of opening and closing the small device.

"And you're, like, totally, one hundred percent sure it wasn't a bear?"

Steve is surprised to find a weak and breathless chuckle escape him. Dustin - who had been nervously pacing the bus - stopped suddenly, turning tp her with his voice raised.

"Shit. Don't be an idiot. Okay? It wasn't a bear."

Max does a double-take, surprised at the kid's actions and it was enough to capture Steve's attention.

"Why are you even here if you don't believe us?" Dustin asks shortly. "Just go home."

Her eyebrows twitch up in surprise as she rises from her seat and heads for the latter.

"Geesh. Somebody's cranky. Past your bedtime?" She quips, before disappearing up the latter.

Steve watches in bemused shock, fighting the grin that twitches at his lips and his eyes fall to Dustin. The boy is still pacing, bow from stewing in anger that elicits several huffs from him.

"That's good." Steve praised. "Just show her you don't care."

Dustin stops suddenly, his voice flat but upset.

"I don't."

A sly grin forms on Steve's face, and he gives the boy a wink.

"Why are you winking?" Dustin asks, annoyed. "Steve? Stop."

With effort, Steve managed to put away the smirk and the two are soon cloaked in silence once more.

Up on the bus' roof, Max has joined Lucas's company and together, the two look out on the surrounding fog.

"It's kind of awesome." She says.

Lucas looks at her in surprise, his brows furrowing into a curious frown.

"Huh?"

"The fog, I mean." She says. "It looks like the ocean."

Lucas lowers the binoculars, his gaze turning to her.

"You miss it?"

"What?"

Lucas hoists himself up, bringing himself to a more comfortable sitting position. When he looks at her, it is not hard for him to notice the change in her. She gazes out at the landscape, her eyes occasionally flickering to his but most importantly he sees the forlorn look in them.

"The ocean," he says. "The waves? California?"

Max shrugs, her face melting into a weak frown and her attention shifts somewhere else. He smiles weakly.

"Hawkins seems pretty lame, I bet." He offered.

"No, no, no, it's not that." She says. "It's just..."

The words die on her tongue when she realizes who she is talking to, opening up to. What she is talking about. And yet, she doesn't let it stop her and she doesn't know why. Taking a deep breath, she lets the words spill out.

"My dad's still there. So..."

"Why?" Lucas asks sadly.

Her regular composure comes back in a fleeting moment, and she chuckles dryly.

"It's this legal term called "divorce." She quips. "See, when two married people don't love each other anymore..."

"Yeah." Lucas mumbles.

They share a weak smile, and reluctantly Max continues.

"My mom and my step-dad, they wanted a fresh start away from him. As if... As if he was the problem, which is total bull. And things... are just worse now."

Her saddened gaze hardens on the land below them, and Lucas can tell, in this moment, she is not all there.

"My step brother's always been a dick, but now he's just angry... all the time..." She sniffles, breaking her eyes away for a brief moment. "Well, he can't take it out on my mom, so..."

"So he takes it out on you?" Lucas asks, his heart aching.

She looks at him through the tears pooling in her eyes, and she looks just as surprised that she is sharing this. She shakes her head in hopes it will magically make everything better.

"I don't even know why I'm telling you this," Max says, the lump in her throat hardening as she struggles at what to say next. "It's just... I know that I can be a jerk like him sometimes, and I do not want to be like him. Ever. I guess I'm angry, too, and... I'm sorry."

Lucas says nothing, only staring at her in astonishment that she was opening up. The embarrassment grows in her and she angrily wipes away her tears once more.

She's embarrassed by the pitiful look in his eye, and her cheeks darken, already pink from crying. Angrily, she swipes at her cheek, catching her tears and laughs dryly at herself.

"Jesus! What is wrong with me?"

Lucas is snapped out of his daze and he sits up fully, leaning forward. When he speaks, his tone is soft and urgent. Reassuring.

"Hey, you're nothing like your brother, okay?"

Max listens, taken aback as he continues.

"You're cool and different. And you're super smart. And you're, like," he throws his hands up with a gesture, smirking. "totally tubular."

His antics crack a smile, and much to her surprise she feels a warmth spread in her chest. A warmth she hasn't felt in a long, long time.

"Nobody actually says that, you know."

"Well, I do now."

She nods, a sarcastic gleam in her eye.

"And it makes you seem really cool."

A thoughtful look crosses Lucas's face, and he tilts his head.

"I like talking with you, Mad Max."

"And I like talking with you, stalker." She smiles.

A wild growl echoes from the distance capturing everyone's attention. Down below, Steve and Dustin scurry to the nearest window, peering out into the fog. Hearts hammering in their chest, they scan the land for any signs of movement, their eyes peering through the grates window from behind the sheets of metal they had used to barricade the bus.

"You see him?" Dustin asks quietly.

"No."

Dustin turns, calling up to the roof.

"Lucas, what's going on?"

"Hold on!" He calls, binoculars aimed at junkyard entrance.

His view flies across the landscape in a hurry, Max watching anxiously beside him as she squints through the yard. Lucas tenses when he catches a soft and barely audible thump from the east entrance, and his binoculars land on a car in the distance he could have sworn moved.

"Shit." He breathes.

Max's gaze flickers to him for a brief moment before hastily scanning the fog once more.

"What? Did you see something?"

"I-I don't know-"

His thought is cut short by his own sudden gasp, the binoculars had found a four-legged figure stalking through the fog.

"I've got eyes!" He calls. "Ten o'clock. Ten o'clock!"

Sure enough, Steve and Dustin locked eyes on the dark figure making its way through the yard.

"There," Steve whispers, his heartbeat spiking.

"What's he doing?" Dustin asks.

"I don't know."

Lucas and Max study the horizon, and Max - who now holds the binoculars - spots a flurry legged creature hidden in the fog. She turns to Lucas, giving him a skeptical look.

"Wait. You sure that's not a dog?"

"What?"

A familiar chitter rings through the air, and everyone stiffens. A worried look crosses Steve's face when he sees Dart circling the bait.

"He's not taking the bait. Why's he not taking the bait?"

"Maybe he's not hungry?" Dustin offered.

"Maybe he's sick of cow,"

Steve backs away from the window, his heart hammering. He knows what he has to do, but he doesn't like it. Dustin looks at him worriedly, but Steve only nods before retrieving his bat and heading for the door.

"Steve? Steve, what are you doing? Steve?"

He turns, the moonlight pouring in from the roof hatch and illuminating his worried but determined features. He retrieves his lighter from his back pocket and holds it up.

"Just get ready." He says, tossing Dustin the lighter.

The bus doors open with a creak, and slowly Steve creeps outside, bat gripped tightly in hand. He takes a few cautious steps before the bus doors close with a creak. Slowly, he paces the grounds, twirling his bat in hands ready to strike. He whistles, hoping to draw Dart near but nothing happens.

"Come on, buddy."

Max climbs hastily down the ladder, joining Dustin by the window.

"What's he doing?"

"Expanding the menu."

"Come on, buddy," Steve repeats, his voice wavering. "Come on, buddy. Come on. Dinner time. Human tastes better than cat, I promise."

Max shakes her head in disbelief, unable to tear her eyes away from the scene.

Dustin only grins in a mix of pride and awe.

"He's awesome."

Catching a glimpse of movement, a darkness in the fog, Steve swings his bat back and forth, causing a rift in the sea of fog. Slowly it disperses, revealing a snarling and newly evolved Dart. Roughly the size of a small wolf, he now looked more like a demogorgan than ever.

Up above, Lucas spots two more figures closing in on Steve from behind.

"Steve, watch out!" He cries.

"A little busy here!" Steve snaps.

"Three o'clock! Three o'clock!"

Reluctantly, he turns and to his horror, he sees what Lucas was talking about. Scaling the surrounds vehicles, are two more Dart like creatures slowly advancing on him.

In the bus, Dustin jumps to action.

"Steve!" He rips the bus door open. "Steve! Abort! Abort!"

Dart lunges at Steve before he can make his escape. Steve is able to dodge the creature's attack, just barely, and manages to duck behind a car. He can hear rapidly approaching footsteps and he turns quickly, the sharp edges of the bat striking away another demogorgan mutant.

"Steve run!"

"Steve hurry!"

With his latest opponent still winded, it buys Steve enough time to make a break for the bus, another creature hot on his heels. He has to dive, but he just barely makes it. His toes cross the threshold as Dustin closes the door. A loud thump reverberates through the bus and it shakes violently upon impact. The mutant demogorgons efforts to get inside do not cease, the horrible sound of metal being clawed chills their ears and the bus door continues to move.

"Holy shit!"

"Are they rabid or something?" Max shrieks.

Steve grabs an extra sheet of metal from the windshield and places it against the bouncing door. He plants his feet against it, and the sheet begins to bounce just as so.

"They can't get in!" Lucas cries. "They can't!"

The bus takes several blows, and the whole bus rocks back and forth with it. The sound of metal hitting metal grabs their attention from the back of the bus. One of them had broken through a gap. Steve is there in seconds, with all his might he swings the bat at the slimy arm poking through.

Dustin grabs his headset, flipping it on screams into the mic.

"Is anyone there? Y/n? Mike? God! Anyone!"

Another break in the wall sends Max and Lucas across the bus, eliciting several horrified shrieks from each of them.

"We're at the old junkyard," Dustin continues. "and we are going to die!"

Another loud and heavy thump shakes the bus, turning Max's head. It had come from the back, but all she saw was Steve finishing off the first beach. Then another thump came, and that is when she noticed the ceiling of the bus bend under each thump.

One was on the bus, and it was heading straight for the roof hatch. It grew closer with every thump and slowly she looked up. For the briefest of seconds, all she saw was the night sky. Then slowly, a large slimy head came into view. Its grey, petal-liked head opened up as it snarled at her, revealing hundreds of its thorn shaped teeth and drool dribbled down the latter before her.

Her mouth opened, and her petrified screams hit her ears before she could even register she was screaming. Max stumbled back, and Steve's arm sweeping her aside assisting and he quickly took her place.

"Out of the way! Out of the way! You want some? Come get this!"

He has then spiked sat in the creature’s direction and it hunches down in an attack position. Its mouth opens once more, and it lets out awful roar. He grips the bat tighter, ready to swing when something catches its attention. Its guard lowers and looks off at the horizon in curiosity and Steve freezes.

The beast draws back in another snarl and in the blink of an eye, a thunderous boom echoes across the valley and sends it flying with a painful shriek. With it, a violent force rocks the bus that sends everyone in a mad scramble for balance. For a moment, Dustin fears in the midst of all the commotion, he had grown faint. A gust of warm wind accompanies the tremor that he first mistakes as hot flashes. But when his ears perk, they barely catch the fading echoes of stained scream.

Everyone has frozen, completely rooted in place in fear of another attack and Max is the only one brave enough to speak.

"What the hell was that?" She hissed.

More tremors shake the ground and several grunts and thumps are heard. Everyone scrambles to the window when they realize they are ni o longer the target. Dustin is the last to reach the window but he realizes exactly what it is before ever laying eyes on it.

"Stay back!" Cries a familiar voice. "Stay, the hell, back!"

Not single soul dares to blink, much too captivated by the change in events. Packed in against the windows, fighting for window space, they stare through the grated window in complete shock and awe as Y/n Henderson battles the mutants. They almost didn't recognize her. Besides the fact she was constantly moving - barely dodging their attacks - and the powerful bursts of energy emanating from her hands, she held herself differently.

She was also dressed in baggy, shoddy clothing. Ripped jeans two sizes too big that were buckled just above her waist, and several layered shirts Dustin nor Lucas had ever seen her wear. Everyone watched dumbfounded as she threw her hands up left and right, and with it, hot bursts of air blowing knocking back the creatures.

She bent over, grabbing her knees and they could see her swallowing as much air as she could, her knees wobbling. Before they could snap into action to help, she rose once more and held her hands out ready to strike once more.

"Steve! What the hell are we doing, we gotta go help her! Now!" Dustin hissed.

Steve nodded a bewildered look on his face still. Nevertheless, his feet finally began to respond to his brain’s signals and he headed for the door. The bus rattled with his movements and the Demogorgon's stilled, looking towards the bus. The kids' eyes widened and for a moment, Dustin feared they had been heard, further agitated the creatures. But much to everyone's surprise, one by one they retreated.

They circled Y/n, looking ready to pounce and several even snarled at her, but they kept moving. They ran straight for the bus and Y/n's eyes widened in fear, she ran after them, ready to strike again when she stopped.

The creatures had run around the bus, completely fleeing from the scene. When she was sure they were safe, she collapsed to her knees, panting heavily.

"What the fuck just happened?" Max exclaimed suddenly.

Her words snapped everyone out of their daze and hastily they fled the bus, pooling put onto the ground.

"Y/n! Oh, my God, what the shit!" Dustin cried, running to her figure and sliding across the grass to join her.

Y/n looked up from the ground, the color was drained from her face and branching put from her eyes and lips were a million tiny spider veins. She was still panting, gasping for breath but she was still very much aware of her surroundings.

"You're... welcome." She panted.

A squeaky, relieved laugh erupted from Dustin's throat and he tackled her in a hug, nearly sending her to the ground. Smiling, she reciprocated and after a moment the siblings parted.

She looked around at all the widened eyes, everyone was rendered speechless, waiting for her to speak. She licked her chapped lips and she hurriedly swiped away a drop of blood from her ears as it tickled her skin.

"I'll explain, I promise." She said, slowly regaining her composure. "But somebody better tell me why the everloving fuck are those back?"

"Are you kidding me? You can't just pull that shit and expect us to move on!" Lucas shouted.

"Shit," Max breathes, looking at Lucas in defeat. "So, like, you really weren't kidding. I owe you an apology."

Y/n blinked rapidly in surprise, her eyebrows shooting up. Her wild eyes flickered to Lucas questioningly. She had fully expected to have to explain herself to Max and Steve, but she never expected them to know.

"Lucas, you told her?" Y/n exclaims.

Lucas shifts uncomfortably on his feet, a sign of guilt despite his strong defense.

"I had to! Besides, she's been a big help and right now, we need a lot of that."

"Lucas," Y/n warns.

"What does it matter?" He snaps defensively. "You'd have to tell her anyway since she just saw all that!"

"Hey," Steve called.

"Well, she wouldn't be here if you hadn't involved her!" Y/n snapped back, the grass beginning to heat beneath her and Dustin.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey!"

Steve's voice rings out in the hearing, and finally everyone silences and looks to him meekly.

"Jesus, you shits never listen," He grumbles, running one hand through his hair. "Look, I don't know what the hell just happened, and I'd sure as hell love some answers, but we have a bigger problem on our hands. We've got a whole lot more of these things to deal with than we thought, and we need to know where they're headed so we can stop them."

"What are you talking about? Y/n scared them off," Dustin said.

Y/n shook her head, a quizzical look on her face.

"No. No, I don't think I did." She said in realization. "Sure I took by them by suprise, but I was vastly outnumbered. They could have put up a bigger fight, but..."

"But they just stopped." Max finished her voice grave.

Y/n nodded, lost in thought when Dustin rose to his feet, extending his hand for his sister. Grateful, she took it and wobbled to her feet, dusting off her palms and shins.

"Do you think they heard something?"

"I don't know," Steve mumbled, his bat coming to rest over his shoulder. "But whatever it is, it can't be good."

There was a pause as they each echoed around worriedly at one another. It was soon disturbed by Lucas, who exhaled sharply.

"Okay, seriously, I can't take it anymore!" Lucas huffed, crossing his arms. "Stop dodging the question, and tell us what the hell is going on!"

Y/n looked around at the curious faces and sighed.

"Christ! I will!" She said, eyes darting between Steve and Max. "But I at least have the right to know how and why they are here seeing as they're about to hear what I have to say."

"We're low on hands, seeing as you or Mike, or even Will haven't been answering," Dustin says, his gone slipping into a scold.

Y/n winces, taking in a sharp breath through her clenched teeth.

"About that..."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Several beams of light crawl across the murky ground. Apart from the soft crackling of their comms, the squelching sound of footsteps bounce around the tunnel.

"Almost there, ladies."

"Roger."

After several twists and turns, the men find themselves at their target location. The tunnels have led them to the hub, they scan the area for any disturbances but find none. Just several other entrances to the hub, and among the small space are several giant spores that move as if they're breathing.

"Stay frosty, boys." One orders.

With great caution, they step forward, but a sudden snap echoes off the walls and they stand aside to see several bones scatter amongst the damp earth.

From up above in the lab, Hopper takes note of the dots on the screen. His eyes widen in recognition and he urgently steps forward to examine the monitor further.

"Wait. That's where I was?"

"What?" Owens asks, turning.

"It's that damn graveyard." He says.

The soldiers slowly scatter across the grounds, several bones crush beneath their feet. The team's leader grips his weapon tighter and scans the area further as he speaks.

"Sir, there's nothing here."

The man at the controls turns his head to address Owens. His lips press into a firm line and he shrugs halfheartedly.

"Looks like your kid's full of shit, Doc."

Hopper and Owens wear a similar frown and share an uneasy glance. They both know something is amiss, but they say why. Suddenly, as if to answer their suspicions, another high pitched growl echoes through the soldiers' coms.

The men turn in circles, to their surprise, large clouds of fog begin to pool in from every tunnel surrounding them. It engulfs their feet and settles around their ankles, spiking their nerves as they hear the growling grow closer.

Elsewhere in the facility, Will lays stiffly in his hospitality bed. He has paled once more and his lip quivers, her heart clenched with guilt.

Finally, he gathers the courage and strength to speak. Speak as himself. Though it is still with great difficulty, the second presence inside him fighting to keep him quiet but.

"I-I'm sorry." He whimpers.

Joyce and the others perk up in confusion, and Joyce wastes no time in reassuring him. She gently rubs his arm, and her heart is gripped by fear as she recognizes the same in her son.

"What? What do you mean, sweetie?" She cooes.

His breathing grows labored as he fights a losing battle against the tears forming his eyes. He looks to his mother, and he can feel himself drowning in guilt and regret. He shudders at the thought of what he has done and weakly he speaks through the tears.

"He made me do it." He sniffles.

Joyce rises to her feet to comfort her son, unaware of the thoughtful glance on Mike's face.

"Who? Who made you do what?"

Will's darkened pupils look up at her in fear, and he speaks through choked cries, his body shaking like a leaf.

"I told you," He says. "They upset him. They shouldn't have done that. They shouldn't have upset him."

Before Joyce can question him further, Mike looks up at his friend, completely aghast. His stomach plunges in fear and his eyes widen in realization.

"The spy." He says fearfully, and he sees Will subtly shake his head. "The spy!"

Mike jumps to his feet, startling Bob and Joyce in the process and bolts through the door.

Above the tunnels in the observation room, a scientist monitoring the radar turns suddenly addressing the team.

"We've got movement." She informs.

The man grips the microphone tightly, one eye on the radar as he attempts to alert the team.

"You've got company, fellas."

Back in the hallway, Mike crashed into the guards stationed by the closed-off hallway. He fights and kicks with all his might, his voice elevated and frightened.

"I need to get through! It's a trap!"

The guards roughly push him back where he fell into Bob's arms, who had followed Mike into the hall. He attempts to pull him back but Mike continues to fight against him.

"It's a trap! I need to warn them. It's a trap!" He screams.

The fog has now engulfed the hub, and the team's vision is blurred. Several frightened and overlapping voices spill out into the air as they form a tight circle.

"I can't see shit! Where are they? Where are they?"

"They're right on you!" The tech urges, growing more frightened.

The radar has completely lit up, dozens of shots sprinkle the area and all they can do is watch, hoping their warning is enough. The cameras are fogged, the radar their only hope at saving them.

"Wait, what?"

"What was that?"

Several horrific screeches pierce the air, barely muffled through the coms. The radio channel is soon filled with gunfire and terrible shrieks of agony, and all they can do now is watch and listen in horror, knowing there is little to no hope of saving them now.

And in a frantic effort to understand, Joyce lightly shakes Will's shoulders as he cries. She is choking back tears of her own as she does so.

"Will, sweets, talk to me. You got to help me understand."

Will is crying freely now, and he shakes violently with sobs.

"It's too late."

The last thing the observation team sees is the only remaining soldier scurry for the camera when all goes to static. Everyone is shocked into silence, and they look around at one another fearfully. Hopper is the only one to move, he has taken sight of the nearest radar and his blood runs cold. Every dot on the map in near-perfect sync flees through one tunnel.

The tunnel the soldiers had come from.

"You should go." Will sobs, his eyes filled with fear.

Moments later, the silence in the observation room is disturbed by familiar shrill cries that echo out from where the elevator had disappeared.

Hopper turns to face the glass as do the others, and everyone is suddenly aware - all too late - that things were only getting worse. He races to window, and from there, all he can see is the bottomless looking pit, but the shrill cries only grow stronger.

"They're almost here," Will says.

A concerned frown forms on Hopper's face as he studies the cables cautiously. The elevator cables begin to move, twist and twirl, creating a reverberating his of metal curling before settling into small vibrations. And out of the depths of the pit, one by one, the mutated army of Demogorgans emerges.

__________

Sorry if this chapter basically assumed what you usually wear. I normally stay away from all that, so if you usually wear that sort of stuff [I do too so I get it lol]. I do my best to let you guys imagine what you wear cause I always enjoy that in a reader insert. The clothes will be explained next episode! I just picture Y/n Henderson in clothes like max’s in season 2, handmedowns and stuff since the Hendersons probably aren't the *richest* and it's just Claudia Henderson so yeah

Just an fyi for chapter ahead:

Y/h = your height [tall, short, etc.] H/l = hair length H/t = hair type [curly, straight, etc.] H/c = hair color S/c = skin color

On that note, for reference for next chapter, I know we don't all look like our moms, but for the sake of the plot she looks like you in this story if she doesn't already. Thank you!

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