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drakenology · 3 years

Text

their s/o has kinky curly hair with Bakugo, Denki, Midoriya and Todoroki

author’s note: hey so i smoked a lot of weed and tried to do my hair afterwards and I quit so now I’m writing about kinky hair because I have a mixture of 3c and 4c hair and detangling is not poggers. Like it takes an hour to detangle my hair... I don’t have the energy for this rn. But even though it’s a fuck ton of work to take care of natural hair it’s still gorgeous and beautiful and strong and all of the fucking above. Shout out to all my kinky haired girlies. And of course shout out to my beautiful black queens. I see you boo! <3

warnings?: fluff, swearing and mentions of sexual activity (yeah, this one aint nasty... that’s the next post. shhh!) ALL CHARACTERS AGED UP 18+

Bakugo

not gonna lie this mf ignorant as fuck

hates that you take so long to do your hair

but loves watching the process?

“What’s that stuff?” “What does it do?”

educates himself for your future babies

he likes a challenge so why wouldn’t he figure out how to properly take care of curly hair?

offers to do your hair sometimes

sometimes does it better than you do?

thinks you’re a fucking goddess.

i am a firm believer that bakugo LOVES sistas ok??

This morning is particularly stressful. You had already broken a comb or two trying to do your hair last night. So when you went to bed thinking that your hair was gonna turn out amazing you can imagine your shock when it didn’t turn out right. Well, as your taking down your twists, you see that your hair didn’t dry all the way. You try everything you can to salvage your style; you pick it, try and diffuse it but you’re still unsatisfied with the look. You sigh and just tie it up in two afro puffs. You lay your edges carefully and do some light makeup. Suddenly, you hear the bathroom door fly open to reveal your boyfriend Bakugo staring at you.

“So that’s what’s taking you so damn long.” Katsuki says leaning against the door frame. He was going to come in and yell at you to hurry up but with the way you looked all dressed up he was completely thrown off and blown away. You were wearing a bright yellow sundress that trailed down to your ankles. It hugged your body and flowed out towards the bottom of the dress. The bathroom smelled like your hair products; tropical and fruity smells smothering his nostrils. You were like a goddess standing before him. And he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

“Dammit, Katsuki wait a damn minute. I’ll be out in a second.” You said, adding the finishing touches to your face. Katsuki walks over to you and leans up against the kitchen counter to watch you finish your makeup.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” he said as he stared at your glistening mahogany skin. You tried your best not to giggle at his stares as you turn to look at him.

“You ready to go?” You ask, feeling a little flustered as he ran his hands up and down your hips, stopping at your ass as he cupped it with both hands. Katsuki plants a kiss on your soft, plush lips and shook his head.

“I’d hate to waste that outfit.. but now I don’t wanna even go out. I wanna fuck you instead.” He says as he kisses your neck. OOOOWEEE

Denki

my cute little idiot...

you had to remind him a lot to not touch your hair (it fucks up your style!)

had to explain what “shrinkage” was

asked once “WOAH IS THAT ALL YOUR HAIR???” making you get to cussin’

very infatuated with everything about your hair though. poor thing didn’t know no better until now

plays in your hair anyway when you’re cuddling

wants to do your hair for you but every time you let him it turns out a mess.

loves the way your hair smells when you put your products in it

lowkey wishes he had curly hair too

obsessed with you..

“‘Nari? How do I look?” You ask as you turn away from you vanity to look at your goofy boyfriend who’s playing video games and sitting on the bed in front of you. He paused his game to look at you and immediately turned bright red.

“Wow..” He said, completely amazed. You had your hair in flexi-rods; after you took them down your natural hair cascaded down to your shoulders in heaps and mounds of thick luxuriousness. He loved that your hair framed your face so well and the lovely smell coming from you intoxicated him.

“You’re so pretty, Y/N.” Denki smiles.

You giggle and shake your hair in the mirror, loving how your hair turned out. You put on some lip gloss and stood up to walk over to your full body mirror to pose in front of it. Damn, you looked good! You were feeling yourself for sure and Denki just couldn’t help but stare. He watched you pose in the mirror, playfully wiggling your ass and flipping your hair around. His eyes met your curvaceous body; the jeans you wore hugging your form graciously. The top you wore accentuated your cocoa skin so damn good that it appeared to Denki that you were glowing from within. What a beautiful fucking woman.

He stands up and walks behind you, wrapping his arms around you as he stared at your gorgeous visage in the mirror.

“How’d I get so lucky?” He asked, enamored by your beauty. He plants a kiss on your shoulder as you giggle and embrace him. 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Todoroki

was kinda ignorant to black culture and hair styles but after your careful explaination he’s fully informed and loves every bit of you

buys you all them expensive natural hair products (trust me.. they aint cheap)

Watches you do your hair

loves when you wear box braids, pulls on them during sex sometimes if you’re too fucked out to care (oop)

smells your hair when you’re sleeping (not in a creepy way I promise)

Doesn’t tolerate racism and will beat the shit out of anyone who tried it with you. Period.

loves your complexion, thinks you look scrumptious in yellow (yellow looks GREAT on black people ok???)

Todoroki’s favorite time of year was the winter. He loved the sweaters, the hot chocolate and more importantly you can finally wear your natural hair out. Since hotter months make your hair sweat out when you straighten it, you usually keep it in braids or locs. But come winter time, you try and wear your natural hair when you can since winter months can be drying to your curls sometimes. You had spend the day (yes it’s a fucking day long process.. for me anyway) taking down your braids while sitting on the couch watching daytime T.V while Shoto was out working. After everything was out, you showered and washed your hair, sighing as the warm water and shampoo soothed and cleansed your scalp carefully. You step out of the shower and comb out your hair while it’s still wet. You do your normal routine and fluff out your curls with an afro pick and smile at your new growth. Unbeknownst to you, Todoroki had been watching the process from start to finish as he was sitting on the bed next to your vanity. You thought he was asleep since he liked sleeping in on Sundays so you were surprised when he got up and kissed you on the cheek, admiring your natural beauty.

“You truly are the most gorgeous person I’ve ever seen, Y/N. I’m so lucky.” He gushed. You giggled and kissed him on his lips, thanking him for the compliment.

“So, what you do want to do today, beautiful?”

Deku

When he met you he wanted to know everything about you

Secretly took notes 👀 has a notebook with your name on it with everything that has to do with you including your hair

Studies you and does your hair exactly like how you do it

Tries to impress you by coming up with new styles to try even though some of them are a bit crazy lookin

Loves you till the death of him

Very very sweet about helping you with your hair when you’re too tired to take care of it sometimes 🥺

You had a long, stressful and exhausting day. You spent all day at the hospital taking care of patien after patient nonstop with damn near no breaks in between. You had resorted to pulling your beautiful curls back and away from your face from all the sweating and running around the hospital, leaving stray curls hanging out. You were always a prim and proper girl almost never seen with your hair unkempt so when you returned home with your hair in a messy low bun, Midoriya knew what was up. He watched as you greeted him weakly and plopped on the couch next to him, laying on his lap and almost falling asleep.

“Rough day?” He ask. You almost burst into tears when you hear your boyfriend ask you about your day. It was rough and frustrating. You were just glad you were finally home so you can relax and try and forget about the taxing day. You sigh as Midoriya rubbed small circles into you back and undid the messy bun you had lazily tied hours before returning home.

“You just relax, princess. I’ll take care of you, ok?” He says lifting you up from his lap and carrying you to the bathroom. He sat you on the sink and put your hair in two braids for you so you could take a shower. He kissed your forehead and hummed sweet I love yous into your ear as you smile and kiss his nose. You loved that he was always so gentle with you, never hesitating to help you when you need it.

“I’ll make us something to eat. Pick out a movie for us to watch, okay? I don’t care if it’s something we’ve seen 100 times. Tonight is all about you.”

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

#bnha fanfiction #bnha imagines #bnha smut #bnha x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugo x reader #bnha bakugou #bnha headcanons #bnha midoriya x reader #bnha todoroki x reader #bnha denki

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bosspigeon · 3 years

Text

sunshine on a rainy day

Pairing: M!Detective/Mason Word Count: 3669 Summary: Unit Bravo helps Juni with rooting through the sodden mess of his bedroom, and Mason tries to figure out just what the hell is going on with the detective.

I have no excuses or explanations for this. It’s just self-indulgent corny nonsense.*shakes Mason like an Etch-a-Sketch until he can acknowledge his goddamned feelings*

Please check out this cover of “My Girl” by Kele Okereke that inspired this whole thing, because it makes it gay and it brings my little homosexual heart so much joy~

Mild CW for references to sex/m*sturbation

Things are still… weird, with Juni.

Of course, he’s pretending they aren’t, and he’d be very convincing if it were anyone but Mason he’s trying to convince.

His smiles are too brittle, too tense, and they don’t make his nose scrunch up like they should. His laughs are too-sharp and high-pitched, strained with effort, and he hasn’t snorted once. He radiates tension the second Mason looks his way, hides behind his hair like he’s afraid to look him in the eye. When Mason first met the detective, he thought he was soft. Too soft. The sort Mason would chew up and spit out if he cared enough to bother, but then he dug a little deeper, hit a nerve or two, and found that shiny spine. He found that, when pushed, Juni had bite.

He may have gotten a bit addicted to the bite, and now that it’s gone, he feels completely off-kilter. Juni still responds when he flirts, of course, blushing and fumbling like always, but it feels… different, somehow. And it has since the bakery.

He apologized, and he thought that would make it better, but it hasn’t, and now he’s caught between frustration and what might be... guilt?

Clearly, he’s hurt Juni somehow, and he’s not sure how to fix it.

Why do you need to fix it? Why do you care?

He shakes it off. They’ve got more important things to worry about right now. He’s got to keep his head in the game.

“I’m sorry,” Juni says miserably, again, and Mason wants to shake him. What part of this is his fault?

“It’s not your fault,” Nate says kindly, before Mason can get snippy and make Juni withdraw into himself even further. “You can’t be blamed for bad luck.”

Juni snorts, grabbing his arm. “If I didn’t have bad luck, I’d have no luck at all,” he recites, like it’s something he’s said before. He’s wearing a t-shirt that says “I Just Hope Both Teams Have Fun” and it’s a bit odd to see his arms without the cover of his usual sweatshirt. He keeps rubbing at his inner arm and the bird inked there. A self-soothing gesture, as if he’s not used to exposing so much skin. His nails are bitten all to hell, too. A mess of tells, this man.

“That’s the spirit!” Felix says cheerily, punching the air. The look Juni gives him is dry as a desert, and Mason feels a twist of something hot and acidic in his gut he can’t name. He wants to chuck Felix in a dumpster at least once a day, but the urge hits him like a truck out of the blue, and he can’t pinpoint the reason.

Fuck, he’d kill for a smoke.

“I’m still sorry,” Juni says again, squeezing his forearm. “For, y’know, the whole squad needing to babysit me for this.”

“It’s no trouble at all!” Nate exclaims, as if the very thought that Juniper believes their helping him sort through his soggy belongings to see what can be salvaged to be a chore is somehow an insult. “We’re happy to help.”

Juni gives Nate a soft-eyed smile that lights up his whole face, and that acid feeling burns more.

“You cannot be left unaccompanied,” Adam says stiffly, eyeing the horizon as if the Annunaki will swoop down on them in a parking lot in broad daylight. “It is best that we move as a unit when able, to ensure your safety.”

Juni ducks his head, still smiling. “Thank you guys,” he mumbles, and then he almost keels over when Felix slings his arm around his shoulder to shake him. Mason stifles a growl, and while Felix doesn’t notice, Adam and Nate both glance back at him with twin unreadable expressions he meets with the blandest look he can manage.

“I, for one, am looking forward to snooping through your place some more,” Felix snickers. Juni pushes him off.

For the most part, the flat is still in one piece, most of the damage contained to the bedroom, though the floor in the hallway is a bit waterlogged as well. Nate tuts in disappointment as the warped boards creak pathetically underfoot, no doubt mourning the fancy pattern to the antique wood. Mason can smell the water damage, mold and rot that no doubt caused the collapse in the first place, and the choking reek of plaster dust.

Juni sighs as he pushes open his bedroom door. The mess is even worse than Mason thought it would be, from what Juni told him. The bathtub that apparently crashed through his ceiling is gone, but the gaping hole remains, still shedding debris onto the ruined bed. The heavy antique bed frame itself is cracked clean in half, the mattress sagging in the middle, and Mason's chest squeezes.

Juni was right there seconds before an entire fucking bathtub came down on top of it. He could have been crushed.

He jolts when he feels fingers on his wrist, and when he looks down, Juni isn't looking directly at him, but towards him. "You can wait outside, if you want?" he suggests softly while Nate goes trotting into the room to cluck and fuss over Juni's bookshelf. "I know it smells kind of gross in here." His nose wrinkles a bit, and Mason hears the thick clicking of his throat as he swallows uncomfortably. No doubt, the smell’s not doing him any favors either, hyper senses or no.

"Did you bring a mask or something?" Mason asks rather than replying, gesturing to the plaster dust settled all over everything, floating in the air now that they've disturbed it. "Your lungs are already shitty enough."

Juni flushes a pretty, rosy pink and fumbles hastily for his bag with a little blurt of, "Oh, yeah!" He puts it on, and Mason wants to groan. Of course it's got a stupid little cat mouth on it.

"Juni," Nate calls, his voice heavy with sadness. He's holding a book in his hands as carefully as if it were an injured bird. "You have a collector’s edition of The Velveteen Rabbit?"

"Had," Juni corrects, his eyes crinkling with a sardonic little smile Mason can't see, but knows the shape of intimately enough to picture. “It had reproductions of the original lithograph illustrations too.” He gives Mason a quick sidelong look before pattering over to take the book from Nate and sadly try to peel apart the pages.

Felix sidles up to Mason with about as much subtlety as a bathtub through the ceiling while Nate assures Juni they can salvage the book, and likely a good amount of the others, if they are very careful. The younger vampire gives him a startlingly critical look that he tries to hide under his usual smirk. "You guys are ridiculous," he scoffs. Mason snaps out a hand to cuff him, but Felix dodges and rabbit-punches him lightly in the ribs. It’s surprising enough from someone as ambivalent to fighting as Felix is that Mason doesn’t even think to dodge, and when he glowers at him, Felix glowers right back.

It’s not terribly impressive on him, but points for trying.

“Be nice to him,” Felix hisses, and this time Mason is ready enough to swat his hand away before he can get jabbed again.

“I’m plenty nice to him,” he drawls, affecting an easy smirk.

Felix studies him for a long moment, then looks him dead in the eye, smiles glibly, and says, “You’re so pretty.” He reaches out like he’s going to pat Mason’s cheek, but he dodges and stalks away to help Adam move some of Juni’s heavier furniture that might still be salvageable. Felix makes a beeline for the bathroom, probably to rifle through Juni’s medicine cabinet or something.

Juni leaves Nate to meticulously pick through his bookshelf and slip blotting paper (which he made sure to bring the second Juni voiced his doubts the small collection of books in his room would be salvageable) between the pages and setting them aside to pack up and take back to the warehouse, where he has the supplies to take care of them. He starts bagging up clothes, while Adam and Mason prop his mattress against the wall to get it out of the way. He’ll have to get a new one for sure. Just being close to the damn thing makes Mason want to retch with the smell of the mildew. Juni drifts by to start bundling up his bedding, and his knuckles skim against Mason’s lower back.

A shudder rolls up his spine, and he settles as his senses calm down enough for him to actually assist Adam. The mattress isn’t heavy for them by any means, but it’s bulky enough to be a pain for just one of them to carry.

Juni is setting to work boxing up all his little trinkets and knickknacks (and he’s got a lot of them) when Felix comes barrelling out of his bathroom with something purple held victoriously above his head.

“Hey, Juni!” he yells, and all of them, even Juni, wince at the volume. “What’s this?”

Once he’s stopped, and is no longer a brightly colored blur in the vague shape of a vampire, Mason can actually see what he’s holding aloft like a trophy. Once he realizes what it is, he can’t help but smirk. Before he even looks at Juni, he can feel the heat radiating off him, his blood rushing, his heart rate spiking.

Even if Mason didn’t know what a goddamned magic wand was, Juni’s reaction would be a dead giveaway.

Faster than Mason has ever seen the detective move, he bolts across the room and snatches the thing out of Felix’s hand, hiding it behind his back. “Where did you find that?” he yelps, his voice pitching high and cracking.

“Your closet,” Felix says brightly, his eyes glimmering with mischief. He’s clearly caught on. “Should I not have touched it?”

“It’s clean!” Juni squawks, his face almost glowing red. “Don’t be gross!”

“Man, now I really wish I’d picked that locked box in there open,” Felix cackles, and Juni smacks at his shoulder and then breaks for the bathroom before the vampire can make good on that promise. He slams the door behind him and Mason hears the click of the lock, while Felix laughs so hard he has to brace himself against the wall and hold his stomach.

Adam and Nate are deeply focused on their own work, admirably pretending they haven’t noticed anything going on outside their little tasks.

It takes a while for Juni to be coaxed out of the bathroom again, but even mortification that makes him blush so ferociously that Mason can feel the heat of him from three feet away wouldn’t allow him to shove his duties off on someone else. He does bring a small wooden trunk out of the bathroom with him, closed with a little heart-shaped padlock that Felix could break off easily if he wanted to. Juni seems just as aware of that risk, so he guards the trunk with his goddamned life, even going so far as to sit on it and glower at Felix while he helps Nate pack up all his waterlogged books and fragile little trinkets.

Mason does give the trunk a very pointed look, trailing his eyes up the detective’s body and meeting his gaze with an easy smirk, just to watch him flush even redder, and while he does go so red the smattering of freckles across his nose almost disappears, he looks away sharply and hides behind his hair.

Mason barely resists pulling an Adam and crushing the weird little ceramic owl he’s packing away.

The rest of the day goes pretty uneventfully afterwards. He and Adam move and dry off furniture, drag stuff that can’t be saved outside to be thrown out, Nate delights in every interesting little antique he finds and mourns the damage done to them, Felix flits around and pretends he’s helping when he’s really just having fun rooting through the detective’s things, and Juni helps where he can and avoids Mason’s eyes as they track his every move. Even if they didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to shake the awareness of Juni, wherever he is in the room.

After they’ve packed everything they could into the Agency SUV, they head off. Juni is quiet on the ride back, sitting close to the window with a box of junk in his lap. Felix is between him and Mason, completely ignoring the odd tension and distracting the detective by asking about whatever random tchotchke he pulls from the box. Mason just stares out the window and tries to ignore the niggling desire to light a cigarette, only slightly mitigated by the fact that he doesn't even have one on him.

Later, once they’ve hauled everything to Juni’s room (or in the case of the books, to Nate’s room to be subjected to the tenderest of mercies) Mason sits on the roof alone for a long while, staring consideringly at an unlit cigarette and twisting it between his fingers. His head feels heavy with everything weighing it down, a twisting, confusing mess writhing in his skull. He tries, once again, to direct his thoughts to easier things, but every time he tries to think about Juni squirming underneath him, thighs squeezing his hips, gasping his name, his thoughts inevitably turn to gentle fingers on his cheeks, a bright laugh lighting up his insides, hazel-green eyes looking up at him with… with what?

He growls and shoves the cigarette back into the pack, cramming it into his pocket.

“What does this mean for us?”

Since when is there an “us?”

He falls back onto the roof with a thud, the rough surface making his skin scream with prickling discomfort, but he ignores it. He closes his eyes, tries to quiet the jumble of his thoughts. He unleashes his senses just a bit, driven by instinct and a need to focus on something, anything else, and takes a slow, deep breath. He hears the low murmur of Nate’s voice somewhere below, in the den. Adam’s there too, naturally. He can’t make out the words, but the conversation is easy and familiar, soft with intimacy.

He snorts. The two of them are fucking ridiculous. You’d think they’d have realized they’re basically married a couple centuries ago, and yet…

Felix isn’t hard to locate, though he’s deeper in the warehouse, where the bedrooms are. He’s loud, as usual, so Mason can hear him a bit better, but still he’s not quite close enough to make out words. He focuses a little harder, relaxes his body and exhales slowly. Along with his voice, there’s a light twanging, which eventually strings together into a rhythm. Music? Felix listens to music often, but it’s usually louder, faster-paced. Grates on Mason’s nerves like absolute hell, but this is slower, brighter. And then he hears Juni’s voice, and his senses rush in like a hungry dog spotting a rabbit.

A laugh, low and sweet.

Mason is rolling to his feet and off the roof before he even has a chance to think about it. It’s the work of a few seconds to slip through the window, and he keeps his footsteps light as he slips through the warehouse like a ghost. He passes the den and glances in. Adam and Nate have their heads close together, talking in low voices with files laid out neatly on the coffee table in front of them, two glasses of wine carefully placed a safe distance away from their paperwork. Adam gives him a quick look over his shoulder, and the ever-present tension in them eases somewhat. Mason nods and continues on by.

The twanging music gets louder as he stalks down the stairs, Felix’s bright voice more raucous than ever, but it’s easy enough to tune out when he hears Juni’s answering laugh floating from Felix’s open bedroom door.

“Are you gonna stop heckling me and make a request?” he asks, and Mason can hear the sunny plunking notes of a ukulele under the words, as if the detective is absently plucking the strings as he talks. Mason vaguely recalls Felix triumphantly hauling the little green instrument from underneath Juni's shattered bed frame, scuffed and covered in wet stickers, and Juni sighing sadly at the broken strings.

“Well, what do you usually play?” Felix asks, his bed creaking. Mason can picture him flopping around like a drunk fish, and he has to stifle a snort.

“I mostly just do covers and stuff.” A rustle of cloth, Juni’s shrugging. “I’ve written a few things, but I’m already giving myself heart palpitations performing in front of people, so I think actually performing something I wrote myself would kill me outright.”

“Well, you’re performing for me, aren’t you? And you seem pretty calm.”

“Since when are you people?” Juni snorts.

Felix barks out a laugh. “Rude!”

There’s a bit of a tussle, a discordant twang, and Juni yelps. “Careful, careful! I just replaced these strings, asshole!”

Felix gasps, affronted. “I’m telling Nate you called me that!”

“No, don’t tell Mum!” Juni whines, and they laugh together more.

Mason shifts from one foot to the other, pressing a hand to his stomach as if that’ll help quell the strange feeling there.

“Stop stalling,” Felix prods, and Juni shifts and sighs heavily. “Fine, fine, but don’t make fun of me, or I will cry.”

“Scout’s honor!” Felix chimes, and Mason wonders where the hell he heard that phrase.

They’re both quiet, and then Juni strums at the strings, just dabbling a bit before he actually starts plucking a rhythm. He takes a deep breath, as if bracing himself. “I’ve got sunshine on a cloudy day,” he croons, and Mason perks up almost instinctively, sunshine echoing in his ears. Juni’s singing voice, much like his speaking one, is soft and a little breathy, but it warbles with clear nerves. “When it’s cold outside, I’ve got the month of May…”

Felix gasps, delighted, and Juni falters for a moment, but doesn’t stop.

“Well, I guess you’d say what can make me feel this way? My guy, I’m talkin’ ‘bout my guy...” Mason slides forward, towards the door as if pulled on a string, and he sees Juni sitting at the end of Felix’s rumpled bed with its blindingly bright sheets, cross-legged with his back mostly to the door, but Mason can see his face in profile. Felix is lying at the head of the bed on his belly, with his chin propped up on his elbows.

His golden eyes flicker to Mason, and he smirks, raising his eyebrows and sticking his tongue out quickly, before Juni notices. Which he likely won’t, eyes closed, dark lashes fanned out across his freckled cheeks.

There’s a smile curling his lips, small but happy, and it only widens when Felix begins snapping in time, laughter coloring the lilting notes. “I’ve got so much honey, the bees envy me. I’ve got a sweeter song than the birds in the trees…” He leans into the chorus, rocking back and forth along with Felix’s snapping. "Well, I guess you’d say, what can make me feel this way?"

Mason braces a hand on the doorframe, if for no other reason than to stop himself walking into the room. He has no idea what he’d even say, but he knows he’d spook the detective, skittish little human he is, and break whatever odd spell has fallen over them both.

Juni’s voice gets stronger, bit by bit, as he settles, rising with confidence. He hums along to his strumming, and the smile that lights up his face sticks behind Mason’s ribs, along with the words of the song.

As Juni trails off with a dreamily sighed, “I’ve even got the month of May,” Felix claps loudly and cheers, an enthusiastic audience of one. Mason winces back away from the door, scowling and shaking his head.

He should leave. Either leave, or butt in just to watch Juni get all flustered, but something holds him still, keeps him quiet.

“I think I know that song,” Felix says slowly, and Mason doesn’t need to see his face to know the teasing smirk spreading there. He narrows his eyes suspiciously.

Juni snorts. “Everyone does, Fe. It’s from the 60s.”

“Yeah, but you sang it differently,” Felix presses. “Thinking of someone in particular, were you?”

Mason looks around the door frame just in time to see Juni whack Felix solidly with a pillow. “It was a cover!” he exclaims, his cheeks going ruddy. “A cover of a cover!” He smacks Felix with the pillow again, a solid whump muffling the vampire’s bell-like laughter as it hits him in the face. “Don’t make it weird!”

“I’ve got sunshine,” Felix warbles, snatching the pillow before Juni can swing a third time and hugging it to his chest.

“It’s a cute song!” Juni insists. “I like cute songs! I’ve got a ton I could have sung, but I picked that one, because I heard a cover once that made it about a guy instead of a girl, and you might not be aware of this, Felix, but I am a homosexual.”

Felix’s hand flies to his mouth, amber eyes going comically wide. “No! You? How long were you planning to keep this from me?”

Juni very carefully sets his little green, lovingly restored ukulele to the side for safekeeping before he tries to wrestle the pillow back from Felix so he can hit him again.

Mason figures it’s a good time to take his leave, before Felix decides to use his presence as a scapegoat from the detective’s wrath.

He slips up the stairs, his head heavy, something… just something stirring in him he can’t even begin to parse.

Juni’s soft voice follows him back to the quiet of the rooftop, a gentle strain chasing itself around in his head.

Sunshine on a rainy day...

#the wayhaven chronicles #specialist agent mason #specialist agent m #twc fanfic #felix hauville #f hauville #bc he plays a p big role in this #also background adam/nate bc chaboi is GAY #pidge writes #oc: juniper fenn #i have no excuses for this #ive just been in a big introspection mood for juni lately #so uh #yeehaw?#im not sure how i feel about it but hhfhdhgh #hearkens back to the cheesy ass songfics of my youth at the end there

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gashinabts · 4 years

Text

The Benefits of a Heartbreak

Word: 6.6k

Pairing: Jimin x Reader, Jungkook x reader, ex-lovers to lovers

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut

Summary: The benefits of a heartbreak

New look

Start of something new

Having the whole bed to yourself

Having sex with other people

Warnings: Angsty, panic attack during smut scene, Mature language

a/n: Sorry it’s been a long time T-T, Uni is kicking my butt. This took me about three months to write, and ahhhhh it finally feels good that is finish. Tell me whatchu think, comments motivate me to keep writing !!!! READ THE WARNINGS!!!

The benefits of a heartbreak

New look

Start of something new

Having the whole bed to yourself

Having sex with other people

“Y/N...what is this list on the fridge?,” Chaeyoung walks to the bedroom and notices you going through the closet throwing clothes over your shoulder. It mostly looked like Jimin’s clothes but she couldn’t see clearly due to you rapidly tossing the clothes.

You turn around and see Chaeyoung holding the list and looking at you, trying to figure out what’s happening. “ Jimin and I broke up,” you say in a normal tone. You are not going to cry again, you already cried on the drive back to the apartment, while making the list, and while clearing the closet.

“What!,” Chaeyoung walks closer to you. “...You and Jimin broke up? But...like you guys been together since like middle school. Did he cheat on you, that mother-,”

“No he didn’t,” you say quickly. You tightly unclench your hands from the black sweater in your hands, you laugh and lightly toss Jimin’s sweater on the floor. “ And we haven’t been together since middle school, it was the first year of highschool we started dating.” You look one last time to see the closet and notice a big difference in space. You take the list from Chaeyoung and write down, You have more room for your clothes.

She looks at you incredulously, “ Well, what happened?” You start picking up the clothes on the floor, placing it on the bed and carefully folding the clothes.

Four hours prior to the heartbreak

You wait in a cafe with a cup of coffee in your hands, well it’s not your coffee, you bought it for Jimin. You sit patiently, tapping lightly on the table, “ Y/N...sorry I’m late, it started raining all of a sudden and then I had to buy an umbrella,” Jimin hesitantly smiles at you. You laugh a little seeing little droplets on his face, and stand up and wiping it dry with a napkin. He lets out a small thanks. Once your done you kiss him on the cheek and sit back down, while he sits on the other side of the table. You scoot the warm cup of coffee towards him and he takes a sip.

“ You left the apartment really early today, I didn’t get my goodbye kiss,” you say jokingly and he laughs a little. He looked outside the window and his smile fades a little and he bites his bottom lip. You are about to ask him what’s wrong but he turns his attention back to you.

“ I had a lot to think about so I went to the gym with my friend,” he says while brushing his hair backwards with his fingers. You can tell he is holding something back, like when you know someone wants to say something but they don’t.

You grab his hand and squeeze it gently, “ You know you can tell me anything,” you give him a warm smile. He returns the smile and lets out a small ‘ I know’.

“ Do you ever wonder what it might've been if we never dated?” he takes his hand from you and places it in front of his lap. Some small part of you wanted to not believe where this conversation was going but you knew where this was going. You shake your head no to his question. “ ...These days I’ve been wondering what it would be like if were not together, if I didn’t ask you out, if we would've stayed friends... I don’t know what I’m saying.” He takes another sip of his coffee and sighs, “ I’m tired Y/N...I feel like I’m at the place where things are too comfortable. We were always...together... since high school.”

You twiddle your fingers, “ Is that a bad thing?,” you are genuinely confused. You thought your relationship was great, hell it was even perfect. There was a set routine and what’s wrong with being comfortable in relationship, don’t people seek that in a relationship.

“ For me it is...Y/N we have been together for more than eight years, don’t you regret anything? Do you ever feel that you lost your youth, that you didn’t fully experience what it’s like to date around, fall in love and get broken up and fall back in love.”

“ No, I haven’t since I’ve been in love with you and I feel happy that I’ve only been in love with you. What-where is this going?,” you scoot your chair closer to the table.

“ We should break up.”

There is a pregnant pause, your heart drops and your whole body is filled with dread. Maybe there are other solutions to fix the problem, maybe you should take less hours from work, maybe ask him what can you do to salvage the relationship. “ Okay, I was thinking the same thing,” you smile brightly at him. Why the hell did you say that, you weren’t thinking the same thing you were actually doing the opposite.

His face shows surprise and he smiles happily, “ Oh my- really? I wasn’t really expecting that...to be so easy, it feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders…” he trails off words of relief and you look down to your swinging feet. “...Hey Y/N, are you okay?”

You look at his worried gaze towards you and you give him a genuine smile. Sometimes relationships don’t last and it’s okay if they don’t but you never expected to happen between you and Jimin. You love Jimin so much that you don’t want to see him unhappy in this relationship, so it’s better this way. “ Yeah, I’m okay so...the apartment? Are still going to live with me? There’s an extra room…”.

He sips the last part of his drink, “ No, I’m going to move in with Yoongi, he said it was cool as long as I pay rent... Y/N, we were friends before we started dating, let’s still be friends, yeah? ”, he reaches to your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze.

No, I don’t know if I can be friends with the person I love, “ Yeah, let's be friends.”

Present

“ Are you shitting me...how can you say you are okay with it when you are clearly not? This doesn’t make sense, maybe you can call him back and say ‘ Hey I don’t want this to end, let’s try to fix this.’ Y/N this is Jimin we are talking about...he’ll do anything for you.” Chaeyoung finally says after hearing the break up story. She looks frustrated and is pacing around the room, but then stops and grabs the picture frame of you and Jimin.

You take the picture frame from and stare at it, it was when you guys were in highschool happily eating at a tteokbokki stand. “ It’s not that easy, he-he’s not in love with me anymore. I guess being with the same person for too long can get boring...exhausting...who knows?” You scoff and place the picture frame in the drawer of the dresser by your bed. You look at Chaeyoung and she looks like she wants to argue more but she holds back her thoughts. She helps you pack Jimin belongings in boxes, the room looks more empty, a little lonely since you won’t be seeing Jimin’s clothes randomly placed around the room anymore.

“ Well that’s the last of it, he said he was coming to pick of his things when I am at work. Should I pack him some blankets...I’m not sure if Yoongi will have any, maybe a pillow-”

“ Hell no! He said he was ‘too comfortable with the relationship’, have him be uncomfortable with the cold weather and an aching neck.” You laugh at her pettiness and she laughs with you.

It’s been a week since the break up and you are coping with it just fine. You may have a few little bumps on the road this week, such as arriving to work late since Jimin would kiss you awake. As well as an empty stomach upon the arrival.

You have never been through a breakup but you seen people cut their hair. This is how you end up in a salon, looking at yourself in the mirror. The more you look at yourself, the more displeased you feel with your appearance.

“What can I do for you sweetheart?” The hairdresser with red hair ask you.

“I want something new, I want to cut my hair.” The hairdresser touches your hair and looks surprised.

He touches your long hair, twirling it a bit, “ So you would just a trim, maybe add layers?” He smiles and combs your hair with the comb.

“ No, I want it to be shorter.” You bring your hands to show him how short you want it, bringing it up to your shoulders. “ I want it this short.” The hairdresser gasp, reluctantly holding the scissors and snipping your hair.

“ Whoa, Y/N! Your hair...it’s so short!” Your coworker Mina exclaims, while stroking your hair. You get flustered since you hadn’t had it this short since highschool.

“ Yeah, it is kind of short, I wanted a new look,” you run your fingers through the strands of your hair.

“ Well it suits you! You look so good! Doesn’t she look good Hoseok?” She turns her head and looks ay Hoseok. He gives you a small smile and nods.

You say your thank you’s and walk towards your cubicle, starting your laptop on to start work, you see Jimin’s picture, sighing you put the picture frame in your desk. Hoseok walks over to your cubicle “ Y/N, can I talk to you?” You knew he was going to ask about the break up since he’s really good friends with Jimin.

“ Yeah, what’s up?” You fiddle around with your pen, he looks around at the interior of the cubicle smiling sadly at the pictures of you and Jimin. You never realized how much pictures you have him in a workplace, you should give rid of those.

“ So how are you? Jimin told me what happened,” he places a warm comforting hand on your shoulder.

You smile at him, “ I’m good, I’m great. I think we needed this,” you lie to yourself but Hoseok doesn’t know. “ Umm, how is he? Jimin, how is he?” You grab some paperwork shuffling them, pretending to be unbothered.

“ He’s doing good, umm...but he is kind of confused to why you block him. I thought you guys ended on good terms?” He has a puzzled look on his face.

It’s best if you completely erased Jimin from your life, it would be easier for you. However, you don’t want to make it obvious, then he would question you more. “ What the heck...my phone has been acting weird, I’ll go check it out later.” He lets out a small okay and goes back to his work.

“ When’s the last time you had sex?,” Chaeyoung asked as she looks at you cooking. She’s been visiting you more, making sure you are okay and eating.

The question takes you by surprise and causes you to burn yourself on the sizzling pan, “ Ow-fuck, I think the last time I had sex with Jimin was two months ago…” You stir the meat around, pondering the last time you had sex with Jimin. Your cheeks flush when you think about Jimin eating you out and making love to you.

“ No, I mean the last time you had sex with a guy,” she takes your place stiring the meat while you grab the plates.

“ I never had sex with anyone else, just Jimin. He was my first and I was his first,” you laugh to yourself remembering how nervous you guys were during your first time. “ Don’t you remember we have been together since highschool?” You serve the rice on the plates and Chaeyoung sets the meat on the table.

“ Duh, I know that but like it’s been a couple weeks. Plus, you even wrote on the list to have sex with other people,” she points to the list on the fridge. You didn’t think much of writing ‘having sex with other people’, it was kind of in the moment thing.

“ I wrote it down but I wasn’t in the right place...I think,” you start eating the food, slightly distracting yourself. You should go having sex, experience being single. “ You are you right. I think I’m going to go to the club tonight,” you smile to yourself. Chaeyoung exclaims excitedly, leaving the kitchen, raiding the closet in your bedroom.

“ This one will look good on you.” She hands you a short black dress.

You enter the club, it is not your first time at a club but it’s different this time. You are not with Jimin. “ I’m going to get a drink, I need some liquor courage,” you tell Chaeyong. She nods and tells you she’s going to dance.

You ask the bartender for two drinks, one for you and one for Chaeyong. Looking around you witness a lot of young pretty people grinding on each other to the sensual music. You grow less confident since you are not as young as them. “ What am I doing?,” you say softly to yourself.

“ Well it looks like you want to get wasted,” a young guy with doe eyes points at the two drinks in front of you.

“ No, uhh this isn’t mine, well this one is but not this one,” you nervously say, pulling down your dress down. You feel intimidated by him since he is so attractive.

“ I was only playing,” he rubs his necks. “ My name is Jungkook,” he reaches his hand towards you, tattoos peak out on his arms. It’s kind of strange that he’s offering you handshake.

You laugh and shake is hand, “ I’m Y/N, how old are you?” You take a sip of alcohol, grimacing a bit. His eyes widen when hears this question.

“ Isn’t it a little rude to ask about someone’s age,” he laughs lightly and you laugh with him. “ I’m thirty-six, I know I look young for my age,” you lightly hit him and laugh louder.

“ You look too young to be that age,” you smiled lightly, looking at your friends drink. “ You look like baby.”

“ Hey! I’m only twenty-two!,” Jungkook pouts making him look more younger.

“ Exactly, why are you over here talking to me? Shouldn’t you be dancing with younger people?”

“You looked a little lost maybe a little sad. I don’t know...I just thought that you needed someone to talk to.” You don’t say anything just staring at him, you don’t know what to say, maybe he is right that you are a little lost and sad. “...uh I could leave I’m probably bothering you, I’m sorry…”

“No, don’t go. Please stay with me.” You grab gently at his hand when he was about to give you space.

—

“Ahh, fuck… Jungkook.” Jungkook is holding up against the wall, with your legs wrapped around his slim waist, kissing your neck and leaving love bites. You didn’t expect this to happen, having a gorgeous man making out with you in your home. He pulls away and gives you a boyish smile before kissing your lips. “ The bedroom is the last door to your left.” He listens to your directions and walks you towards the bedroom, and you let out a small squeal, hugging him tighter.

He lets out a laugh, “Don’t worry I won’t drop you.” His arms let you down gently on your bed, he’s standing in front of you by the edge of the bed, and you sit up a little.

“ I can’t breathe.”

“ Me too. You are so pretty,” his hands caress your face.

You blush at his words, “No this dress is too tight and I can’t breath.”

“ Oh–here let me help you with that,” he helps you stand up and turns you around so he can unzip your dress. You hear him mutter to himself ‘You are such an idiot’. His fingers brush the nape of your neck and down to the zipper, slowly easing the dress off. This is the first time another man is going to see you naked and it’s making you nervous. Your back is still facing him staring at the empty bed, you feel his lips lightly kissing your bare shoulder. “ Is this okay?”

You turn around and smile at him, bringing his lips upon yours, “ Let me take this off.” You pull at his shirt and you pull over his head but it gets stuck in the process, causing both of you to laugh. “ I’m sorry,” you say between laughs, and the shirt is finally off.

You and Jungkook are both naked on the bed, heavily making out and grinding on each other. You pull apart from him, “ Can I ride you...please?”

“ Oh fuck- yes, you can do whatever you want with me,” he says breathless. You laugh an okay, switching positions you sit on his lap, about to insert his cock inside, but then he stops you. “ Wait, do you have a condom?,” Jungkook bites his lip. Oh shit, you were about to have sex without a condom with a stranger. You were so used to not ever wearing condoms with Jimin since you were on birth control. “ Umm...I mean it is okay if you don’t have one, I just-”

You interrupt him softly, “ No, I have one...I think. Let me check.” Leaning over Jungkook’s body your hands pull the first drawer on your side, the first thing you see is the picture of you and Jimin in highschool. Your heart drops feeling a large amount of guilt while staring at his bright smile, this kind where it reaches his eyes.

“ Where would you like to go for our honeymoon, Y/N?” Jimin ask you while holding your hand, lightly swinging it. You and Jimin were walking back from the tteokbokki stand, going to your house.

“ What?” Your eyes widened at his question.

“ It’s not that hard of a question, pick any place and I’ll take you there. Mexico? Japan? Maybe, Germany?”

You laugh, “ I’m not sure, I’m too young to think of this. And who says, if I’m even going to marry you,” you say teasingly.

He stops, and places his hand over his chest, “ Ouch! How can you say that? You are really breaking my heart right now!,” he says over dramatically. You uncontrollably laugh lightly hitting his shoulder. He stops his actions and smiles lovingly at you, taking your hand and holding it again, “ I’m serious Y/N, I may be seventeen but I know I want to marry you.”

“ You would want to spend forever with me? You don’t think you will ever get tired of me or stop loving me?” You laugh lightly but nervously, “ You don’t think we will break up in a cliche setting, like a coffee shop?”

He tilts your chin making you stare into his bright eyes, “ No, never ever in my life I won’t stop loving you. We are meant to be together.” He kisses your lips, “ So pick a place.”

You nod your head, “ Mexico.”

“ Okay, Mexico it is then.”

“ Did you find any?,” Jungkook’s soft voice interrupts your memories. Your hands shake slightly but you end up finding a condom underneath the picture frame. You have a condom in your hands and face him, you give it to him. “ Thank you,” he kisses your cheek as appreciation. He puts the condom on, while you look at the side of the bed that is empty. “ Are you ready?”

“ Yeah,” your lips find his and kissed him hard trying to forget all the memories that surfaced. He inserts his cock and you both moan, you haven’t had sex in awhile and the pain is barely there. You ride him slowly and the pleasure is building up, and your moaning his name.

“ God, you are ahh— so fucking beautiful,” he holds your hips helping you bounce up and down his cock.

“ You are so beautiful, I bet you know that already. I can’t wait to have kids with you. I want them all to look like.” Jimin whispers trying not to wake you up, stroking your hair. He doesn’t think you are awake but you are, pretending to sleep so you can hear his soothing voice.

Stop thinking of Jimin, please stop thinking of him, you plead to yourself. You bury your face in Jungkook’s neck, feeling a wave of emotions. You don’t notice you are crying until Jungkook stops his motions and his large doe eyes are staring at your tearful eyes. “ Hey Y/N ! Are you okay? Did I do something wrong? Should I call for some help?” He’s frantically trying to soothe you, “ Do you want some ice cream? Ice cream always makes me feel better.” He pulls his cock out of you, and you start sobbing even more. “ Ohh, umm,” he immediately pulls you into his embrace, hugging you tightly. He hums a tune, stroking your hair, whispering words of comfort, anything to make you calm down.

You finally relax after thirty minutes of crying into his chest. “ I’m sorry,” you pull away from his chest. You quickly wipe at your dry tears and snot, feeling embarrassed that he saw you like this.

Jungkook hands brush a strand of hair behind your ear, “ At first I thought you were crying because of my dick,” he lightly jokes with you. You smile at the attempt of his joke. He rested his back against your head board and your still sitting on his lap facing him. “ Do you want to talk about it? I’m a good listener.”

Something about Jungkook makes you feel that you can tell him anything. “ Have you ever been in love?,” you ask him.

He rubs his neck and smiles a bit, “ I was sixteen when I fell in love with my english tutor.” He chuckles to himself, “...she was twenty-three.” Your eyes widen and he pinches your nose. “ Let me finish my story. She treated me like I was special, she would compliment me and buy me things, she would say ‘ this reminded me of you’. On my seventeenth birthday I asked for a kiss for my present and she kissed me on my cheek. She actually kissed me, and I thought this is it, she loves me for sure.”

“ What happened?,” you were intrigued with the story.

“ I was going to tell her I love her on my eighteenth birthday, but she got married and moved to Canada.” He throws his head back and laughs loudly, “ I was heartbroken but I realized how funny it was. I don’t think I was in love, and I couldn’t blame her, she was being a nice friend to me. I was too young to know what love is. I think I still don’t know what love is, do you know what love is Y/N?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, puzzled by his story, “ I fell in love with him the moment I saw him, it was in middle school, we were just friends though. He just made me feel loved and I loved him so much that I would hurt myself for him. I just want him to be happy. After we broke up I think I understood more what love is.” You get up from the bed and dress yourself, Jungkook takes that as a sign and puts his boxers on. “ Can you...you don’t have to...but can you stay the night please?”

He turns around and smiles, “ Of course,” he goes back under the sheets and lefts the duvet so you can go under too.

You and Jungkook exchange numbers, he tells you if you need anyone to talk to just hit him up. You wave him goodbye while he walks out on the street.

Your phone rings and see that Chaeyoung is calling you, “ So how did it go? I saw you walking with a young hottie.” You roll your eyes and enter the kitchen, making yourself a bowl of cereal.

“ We had sex-”

“ Yes! Finally! Was it good, god...he probably had a big dick.”

“ I started crying because I thought of Jimin,” you pour the milk in the cereal.

“ Oh no, are you okay? I shouldn’t have pressured you, I’m sorry Y/N,” she says apologetically.

“ No don’t apologize, I’m fine. Surprisingly, he was nice about it. I got his number and I think he’ll be a good friend.”

“ Well that’s good! So how big was he?”

You laugh, “ He was pretty big.”

“ What’s up?,” you answer your phone.

“ Y/N, you are coming with me to a party.” Jungkook says on the other line.

“ You know you are such a demanding person,” you jokingly say. You and Jungkook have been talking for the past month. He takes you places at random times, like going hiking at three in the morning to see the stars.

“ Really? I don’t think I am,” he ponders. You laugh lightly causing him to laugh.

“ Okay, send me the address and I’ll be there.”

You enter the house looking for Jungkook, where is that tall kid at? You should get a drink first, you walk towards the kitchen, looking at the variety of alcohol. The music is very loud and there’s a bunch of laughter and couples making out. You get yourself vodka in the solo cup walking around looking for Jungkook. “ Y/N!,” Jungkook runs up to you and hugs you tightly, this isn’t unusual, he always gives you tight hugs.

“ Hey, loser,” you are finally able to breath when he pulls away. “ I couldn’t find you, you know every early twenty year old guys dress just like you.”

He pouts when you say this, “ How can you say that! I have way more sense of fashion than those punks.”

“ I’m only kidding,” you laugh while punching his arm lightly.

“ I know,” he pokes his tongue at you, “ I want to introduce you to my friend.”

“Y/N? Is that you? ,” an all too familiar voice calls for you. You turn yourself slowly, hoping that if you turn around no one would be there. But when you do you see, Jimin. Jimin the love of your life, your ex-boyfriend. You haven’t seen him in five months and seeing him today is making your heart thump faster.

You fake a smile, “ Hey, Jimin! Long time no see! How are you doing?”

“Uhh..” Jimin tries to formulate a sentence but Jungkook interrupts him, “ You guys know each other?”

“ Yeah, we used to date. It was nice seeing you Jimin.” You turn your head towards Jungkook, “Jungkook where’s the bathroom?”

“ Follow me, I’ll show you,” he grabs your hand leading you to the bathroom. “ Both of you enter the bathroom closing the door. “ So...Jimin was your first love?”

You let out a bitter laugh, “ Yeah he is.” You look at the sink watching the faucet leaking. “ How do you guys know each other?”

“ We met at the gym two years ago and we just became friends right away.” He turns your gaze from the faucet to his eyes. “ Are you okay? We can go somewhere else.”

“ I’m okay. I had to face him eventually.” You open the bathroom door waiting for Jungkook to come out with you.

Jungkook sticks by your side for the majority of the party introducing you to some of his other friends. You excuse yourself and went outside to get some fresh air. You see a black cat and you start petting it, feeling it purr. “ Are you sad too, kitty?”

You hear the slider door close but you don’t bother seeing who it is, you just continuously pet the cat. “ The moon looks beautiful tonight, isn’t it,” he hear Jimin’s voice. You don’t say anything only looking at the black cat. “ When I saw you tonight I thought it was a dream, I thought this couldn’t be real…” He walks closer to you but puts a safe distance. “ Why did you stop contacting me...I thought we were still going to be friends? You said we were still going to be friends…” You let the silence take over, it must be a couple minutes of it, “ Y/N ! Can you please look at me!,” he pleads.

You turn around and look at him, “ Jimin it is impossible for ex-lovers to be friends.”

“ Says who? Why can’t we? ” The cat walks away from you two not wanting to be involved in this mess.

“ I don’t know, we just can’t. That’s how it works! We fall in love, we break-up, and then we are strangers.”

“ Bullshit! So are you just going to pretend that I never existed in your life? I kept calling you every fucking day, just to say this phone number isn’t available. You know how that feels to have you ghost me? You said you were okay with break-up, then why are you fucking acting like this!” he raises his voice. Not once has he ever raised his voice at you, it shocks both of you. You stand back away from him, tears welling up from your eyes. “ Y/N, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled at you. Please don’t cry, it makes me sad to see you cry.”

“ Well you fucking made me cry asshole!,” you turn away from him looking anywhere from his face.

“ I know, please I’m sorry. I’m a piece of shit, I shouldn’t have acted that way. I was just frustrated and confused,” he says gently. Cursed your heart for relaxing when he uses his comforting voice. He comes closer and your body relaxes even more just to know he is close to you. “ Can I hug you, Y/N?” You should say no but you say yes instead.

He turns you around hugging you close in his embrace, he smells the same, his hugs still feel the same but everything is so different. Jimin hands brush your hair and hug him tighter because this may be the last time you’ll ever feel him like this.

You hear the slider door open, “ Oh— oh shit. I heard yelling...is everything you okay?,” Jungkook says carefully.

You pull away from Jimin, “ Yeah, we were just talking,” you wipe your tears.

“Hmm...okay”

You unblock Jimin’s phone number the next day, and was surprised to see the amount of phone calls you recieved. God, can you still be friends with Jimin?

“ On a scale of one through ten how good looking am I?,” Jungkook asked while you were eating your sushi roll.

“ You need a bigger scale, Jungkook.”

“ Aww, thanks Y/N!,” he gloats while putting wasabi on his roll.

“ Yeah, a scale with negative numbers,” you laugh at your own joke. He pouts and mutters angry words. “ I’m kidding! You are more than a ten. You know everyone takes a double take at you.”

He gives you his usual bunny smile and happily eats his sushi. You texted Jimin to meet you at the sushi place but he hasn’t arrived yet. You told Jungkook that you were meeting Jimin and he begged you to let him come.

Jimin arrives ten minutes late and he is panting heavily with flushed cheeks. “ I’m sorry for being late.” He has rain drops on his cheeks and figured he forgot his umbrella. You were about to stand up and wipe them with your napkin but you stopped yourself.

You smile at him, and tell him to sit across from you and Jungkook. “ Did you forget to bring an umbrella ?” You laugh at his wet hair and Jungkook makes fun of him.

“ I like the new look Hyung,” he snorted a laugh and nudge him with your elbow, holding a laugh.

“ Shut up Jungkook. Yeah I forgot my umbrella again. What were you guys talking about?,” he looks at the menu contemplating what to order.

“ We were just talking about how average looking Jungkook is?,” you say as you eat your food. The waiter comes and asks Jimin what he would like to order, and Jimin frantically scans over the menu. “ He’ll have the sashimi combo and extra ginger, please.” The waiter writes down his order and leaves. Jimin gives you grateful look and takes a sip of his water.

“ Really? I think Jungkook is pretty good looking,” Jimin finally says.

“ I know I am hyung,” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. “ If I wasn’t so good looking Y/N, then why didn’t you ignore me when we met at the club?” You blush at his question and turned away from his gaze.

“ Jungkook, Y/N is the one you met at the club?,” Jimin ask with his voice laced with hurt. Jimin remembers Jungkook coming home the next morning with hickies all over his neck.

“ Oh fuck, my bad… this sushi so good! Here try some Hyung!,” Jungkook says while pushing the sushi down Jimin's mouth. You are so going to kill Jungkook when you leave this place.

As surprising as it sounds, being back to friends with Jimin wasn’t too hard. You have a comfortable relationship with him just like how it was before you started dating him.

You and Jimin are walking along the Han River tonight, and exchanging stories about how your day went. You both stop and look towards the river. “ Y/N, I’m dating someone.” Your heart lurches when you hear this and you hum for him to continue. “ It was the month after we broke up, I bumped into this girl at subway. I spilled coffee all over her white dress shirt,” he laughs lightly. “ I asked her out on a coffee date to make it up to her.”

“ Is she pretty?,” you tears want to prickle out but you hold them in. There’s something sad about hearing about ex-boyfriend falling in love with someone else.

“ Yeah, she is and she has an amazing personality.”

“ That’s nice.”

“Y/N, I want you to meet her.” He asked you quietly.

You furrowed your eyebrows and shake your head, “ Jimin, I don’t think your new girlfriend wants to meet your ex-girlfriend who is still your friend.”

“ No, she does. I told her about you and she wants to meet, she would love to meet you. Please meet her Y/N?”

“ Umm...okay.”

“ Hey! You must be Y/N! I’m Yuna. Jimin told me so much about you,” she rushes forward and hugs you.

“ Oh!,” your shocked that she does this. “ It’s so nice to meet you Yuna.” You sit across the table from Jimin and Yuna.

“ What shall we order?,” Jimin ask both of you.

At the end of the day you were exhausted from the meeting with Yuna and Jimin. She’s a nice girl, you know she would treat Jimin nicely and Jimin looks happy with her. You sleep with ease tonight and a smile on your face.

Four months later

“ Y/N I think you should just start dating me” Jungkook says to you in the kitchen. You are cooking him and Jimin dinner. This is the first time since the break up that Jimin is the apartment. He’s looking around the living room looking how everything is rearranged. He stares at the empty walls, trying to remember what pictures were there before. He wonders if you threw it all away or put in a box in the closet.

“ No way I’m dating you Jungkook. You only like me because I’m an older woman and you like the fact that I take care of you.”

“ Duh, that’s why I should I date you. I don’t see what the problem is—”

“ Y/N, where’s all our pictures at?,” Jimin interrupts Jungkook.

You turn and point to your room, “ It should be in the closet, it’s in a box on the upper shelf.” You turn back and scowl Jungkook for eating a piece of meat off the pan.

Jimin walks into the bedroom and smiles, remembering how you would complain to him to pick up his clothes. His smiles sadly now at the room’s tidiness and cleanliness and there’s only one desk beside your bed. He opens the closet and grabs the box, and places it on the bed. He closes the closet and sits on your bed, looking at the pictures carefully. He laughs and smiles at each picture, when you guys were younger. His fingers traces your lovely smile. Jimin reaches the end of the box and finds two plane tickets. ‘ What is this?’ he asks himself. His eyes furrows when he reads one-way trip to Mexico, the date of the flight was a two weeks after the break up, then his heart drops.

He tilts your chin making you stare into his bright eyes, “ No, never ever in my life I won’t stop loving you. We are meant to be together.” He kisses your lips, “ So pick a place.”

You nod your head, “ Mexico.”

“ Okay, Mexico it is then.”

Were you going to propose to him before you guys broke up, his eyes sting and he want to vomit. He goes to put the plane tickets back and notices a ring case, his hand slightly shake while reaching it and opening it. The ring is his size and there’s an engravement written inside, ‘ Forever and Ever’.

“ JIMIN! Hurry up before Jungkook eats all the dinner!”

He quickly puts all the items away in the box and wipes his tears. He looks at the closet mirror to see if he looks okay.

One week later

“ Hey Jimin! Where’s Yuna, I thought she was coming,” you say while lacing your roller skates.

“ Uhh...she’s not coming today.” He sits beside you and does his laces tightly.

You give him a confused look, “ Well that sucks, Jungkook isn’t coming either, he said he had video game tournament, some shit like that. I guess it is just us.” You grabs his hand knowing how easily he falls in roller skates. His hands hold tightly onto yours and you laugh, “ Jimin, you are not going to fall. Do I need to get the walker for you?”

Jimin gives you a ride back to your apartment he was quiet the whole time while you were singing the songs on the radio. “ Thank you for the ride! Make sure to say hi for Yuna for me!,” you say as you are about to leave the car.

“ I can’t,” he says and that halts you from leaving.

“ What do you mean Jimin? Is everything okay?,” you turn back to look at him but he is looking straight ahead.

“ We broke up...I broke up with her.” Your eyes widen when you hear this.

“ Jimin...are you okay? Do you want to talk about it,” you place your hands on his, giving it a warm squeeze.

He turns to look at you, “ I couldn’t love her if that meant I had to stop loving you.”

“ What are—”

“ I love you, Y/N. Me mentioning us to break-up was the biggest regret I have ever made. I don’t need to fall in love with other people to know what love is, because you're all I can ever love.”

“ Do you really mean that?,” you smile with tears in your eyes.

“ Yes, I mean it with all my heart.” He leans over and tilts your chin and kisses your lips lightly. “ Come to Mexico with me.”

Three weeks later

“ Ahh, Hyung! I was supposed to marry Y/N!” Jungkook whines while helping you put your suitcase in his car.

end.

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Do not repost, translate, or alternate my work in any way, onto any platform. I do not take plagiarism lightly.

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amongthedrowned · 3 years

Link

“Phil has travelled on his own for too long—out of the loop, the only thing he knows is that his sons are holed up in L’Manberg. Were these peaceful times, that would have been enough. However, with war raging, Phil’s ignorance has a deadly cost.

Or; Phil travels to find his family, but by the time he gets there, it may already be too late.”

Chapter summary: Phil makes it to L’Manberg and finds Wilbur.

Warnings: blood, gore, major character death, gun violence (not yet, but in later chapters)

(second chapter under the cut)

The crows kept cawing.

Phil didn’t know why they were still following him, but, to be honest, he didn’t care. He couldn't waste precious energy questioning—getting to the wall was much more important than the flock. Instead, he focused on each footstep, the rhythmic beat of his feet hitting the ground, one after the other.

The zombies that faced him along the way didn’t stand a chance. He swiped for their head, and they were gone, not even breaking Phil’s rhythm.

The walls grew closer.

Closer.

Almost in an instant, they towered above him.

Half of the walls were well-built, with dilapidated cobble forming their base. Scraps formed the upper limits; bed frames and desks were stacked alongside splintered doors and shattered window frames.

A horde stood grouped around what Phil guessed was the main gate. How were there so many? Somebody must have put them there.

No time for questions, Phil reminded himself. Well, he couldn't go through there. He traveled along the backside of the walls, trying to find another way in. No luck. Phil circled. This can’t be it. I can’t fail, not after all this time.

There. A break in the wall big enough for a person to fit through. It laid several feet above ground level. Phil jumped and grabbed onto the ledge, hoisting himself up and through without a second thought, barely even wondering why the opening was there in the first place.

When he emerged, Phil inhaled sharply. This was L’Manberg: he recognized it from the photos Tommy had once sent him. A crowd gathered in front of one of the houses, and there, upon the rooftop, stood Tommy.

Tommy. Phil almost stopped at the thought. But then where’s Wilbur? Phil scanned the area, but he didn’t see him.

Where was the bomb?

Phil ran in a wide loop around the crowd, making it to the back of the house. He looked for something, anything. There! A black wire lay concealed on the ground, running from inside the house down onto the grass. Phil followed its trail, making it to a sewer grate.

▢

Phil hit the sewer floor, and his feet splashed in the standing water.

Tunnels stretched out around him. All were dark except one: a pinprick of light gleamed at its end. Phil splashed through the water toward it, past spray painted graffiti on the walls.

He finally made it to the light, and into a room.

The concrete was mostly dry, here, if a bit moist with fresh paint. The graffiti was vibrant and omnipresent, covering the walls ceiling to floor—yet even the paint couldn’t conceal black mold collecting in the corners.

There, before him, stood Wilbur.

Wilbur faced the wall. There, Phil saw it: a button. Like a black hole, dozens of wires converged on that singular spot.

“What are you doing.”

Startled, Wilbur turned toward Phil. A smile jumped up onto Wilbur’s face. “I knew you were alive.” He laughed, stepping forward as if to embrace Phil. Phil didn’t reciprocate.

Wilbur continued, “If you could go out and wait with the others, I’m sure Tommy would love—”

“That’s a weak excuse, and you know it. Now,” Phil demanded, “what are you doing?”

Wilbur’s smile dropped. “Do you know what this does?” Wilbur asked.

“Yeah.”

“Then do you know the song? The one on the walls, the one surrounding us as we speak?”

Phil glanced to the walls. God, he hadn’t recognized Wil's handwriting before, as manic and scrambled as it was. The graffiti was all his.

“There was a special place where we could go to emancipate. L’Manberg used to be, but it isn’t anymore. It hasn’t been since the election. Maybe it never really was. I mean, we’ve all been different since the world around us burned.”

“Election?” Phil shook off his confusion and tried, “No, Wil, L’Manberg’s still up there. Everybody is still here: Tommy, Tubbo, and all the people you’ve survived with. They support you. I support you.”

Wilbur laughed. “I’m starting to think that you don’t know what’s going on.”

Phil hesitated. “I may not know what happened, but I do know you.”

“No, you don’t! That’s my point! You don’t know me! You haven’t known me since I lost you, and that was long before the apocalypse!” Wilbur screamed at him. His eyes were wild, flickering even as he made eye contact. “The world’s gone to hell, nobody is who they used to be.” Wilbur’s head whipped back toward the button. “Phil, I am so close to pressing this button.”

"Don't. You're going to hurt people."

"You think I care?"

Phil took a step forward, one closer to Wilbur. “You may have changed, but we survived,” Phil tried. “Isn’t that enough? Maybe this was all meant to happen, so we could start again.”

Wilbur slowed, staring at the button. “No. We weren’t meant to survive. We’re all one great big accident.”

Wilbur hesitated.

“It was never meant to be.”

He pressed the button.

Phil heard a sizzling sound. He looked back—on the way in, he hadn’t even noticed the charges on the ground, half submerged in dark waters. Phil didn’t have time to register what was happening before—

Boom.

The blast rocked the ground, knocking Phil and Wilbur to the floor. The ceiling above them cracked, chunks of cement falling onto the ground. Phil grabbed hold of Wilbur’s collar and yanked him back, pulling him out of the way of the rubble.

He looked up—sunlight streamed down, bathing them in warm light. Nearly the entire area had collapsed, sunken into now-damaged sewers.

Rumble.

The house above them creaked, and a smatter of dust fell down on them.

Wilbur shoved off Phil’s hand and stood, looking up at the ruins.

“My L’Manberg!”

“Wil, it’s all gone!”

Wilbur grinned wildly, looking at Phil back on the ground. “My unfinished symphony, forever unfinished!”

“We can still salvage this.”

“We? If I can’t have this no one can, Phil!” Wilbur threw his machete onto the ground, and it clattered, a deep tone resonating from the steel. “Kill me.”

“What?”

“Phil, kill me. Murder me.”

“I came all this way,” Phil said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Kill me. Phil, kill me. They all want you to.” As Wilbur gestured up toward the crowd, Phil saw him—his son. Tommy stared down at them, eyes wide, looking from Wilbur to Phil and back again. Phil continued scanning the crowd, but he couldn’t find Techno.

Unbeknownst to Phil, from behind a gas mask, Techno stared down at his dad.

Wilbur kicked the machete across the ground and it skidded, the sheer force moving sparks to fly where the blade connected with the ground. “Kill me!”

“You’re my son!” Phil screamed. “No matter what you do—”

Wilbur slammed his fist into the wall, straight onto the warped, broken metal. Blood gushed into his palms. “Look, look how many resources went into this, our precious resources. How much was wasted, never to return again.”

“No matter what you’ve done—” Phil faltered. He picked up the machete, if only to get it away from Wilbur—Wil’s eyes were wild.

Phil tried again, “No matter what you’ve done…” It sounded flat, even to his ears. As Phil stared into Wilbur’s eyes, he saw a shell.

Wilbur grabbed Phil’s shoulders. “Do it.”

He's not your son.

Before he could think, Phil thrust the blade through Wilbur’s chest.

Wilbur stumbled, falling into Phil’s arms. The machete sunk even deeper into Wil’s chest. Phil froze, feeling damp clothes press against his hands.

“God, Wil, why’d you have to do it? You couldn’t just take your victory?” His breathing hitched. “You couldn’t have just waited a few more days for me to get here?”

Wilbur breathed raggedly in his arms, not replying.

“You couldn’t have just waited?”

“Techno’s got the key to the gates,” Wilbur rasped into Phil’s ear. His tone was smug. God, was he smiling? “He’s the traitor.”

“Techno’s alive?” Phil’s head snapped up, scanning the crowd above them.

“He’s about to open the gates of the barricade and let the zombies in.”

“Oh god.” Phil let go of Wilbur, dropping him to the ground. Wilbur fell with a splash into a puddle, his chin colliding with the ground and splitting open.

“You better run,” Wilbur said, his cheek scraping on the textured concrete as he spoke. Blood intermingled with the water. Phil didn’t pay attention, instead looking up and around for an exit. The tunnel behind him had collapsed: he’d need to climb up the sides.

There was shouting, up on the surface: Phil heard screaming and gunfire. Had Techno already done it?

Phil was looking away even as Wilbur breathed his last.

Phil knelt down and took the machete out of Wil's body. “Don’t worry, Wil. I’ll be back.”

Then, Phil began to climb.

(The Injustice of Undeath masterpost)

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purkinje-effect · 3 years

Text

The Anatomy of Melancholy, 66: Baggage

Table of Contents. Second Instar, Chapter 33. Go to previous. Go to next. TWs: Body horror, joint trauma, nudity, disability-related deprecation/catastrophization. How we carry ourselves.

________________

The last of the suds fizzled, leaving ‘Choly submerged in cold opalescent bathwater. A similar surfactant quality popped his daze, and he shifted in an attempt to sit up in the tub. The fluid’s inertia instead sloshed him further back against the enameled iron. He grunted with a squint as some water got up his nose. When he opened his eyes again, he saw the real trouble hindering his exit. His joints had fallen as slack as his lucidity. He felt like a marionette without a yoke. His stomach shuddered for him, as the slow continued sway of the water, once more settling, tugged at his arms half afloat.

So it was possible, after all, to relax too much.

He lay there for some time longer, barely able to string together the thought to devise some plan. His state left him reeling beyond the rationality that he might call out for help. Angel would worry itself apart to see him like this, and Sticks might very well toss him out in the Merrimack, beyond salvage. Besides, they hadn’t come to his rescue when he fell hours earlier, and he managed to get himself to the dinner table and back up here with nearly a nonzero amount of assistance. He could do this himself. He needed to learn how to do it himself--for his own safety, in the event something estranged others from coming to his aid.

He prayed this whatever-was-happening wouldn’t endure. But at least, he could in the moment assess his limitations.

His musculature and tendons remained connected and functioning, but necessitated an entirely other manner of physiological prescience: to not simply manage his own proprioception, but to apply it forward like some telekinetic mess of connective tissue cat’s cradle. It took every scrape of mental faculty to process and focus to where he could grasp himself by the wrists, by the elbows, by the shoulders, and so on, to grip each errant joint in turn, and to administer the force and torsion necessary to right the dysfunction. The bangs and bruises from the citywide chaos of the day before only served to compound how his throbbing body resisted total exhaustion.

He pushed himself up by both hands off the side of the tub, to stand. Instead, he spilled over the side and across the concrete flooring of the balcony. Flat on his back and defeated, he flopped back with a wheeze and stared up into the joints of the patio cover. The string lights burned a reverse image in his eyelids when he shut them.

He could hear rummaging inside through the open door yards away. His Stygian eyes fluttered open. The sight of twin mounted radstag heads hanging over the balcony door choked him.

“--Angel?”

The appellation came out far weaker and more broken than he expected.

When Angel didn’t respond, he bristled, and once more underwent the slow, quiet, deliberate process of summoning himself together. He found the Mister Handy had set out on the workhorse nearest to the tub for him a towel, his robe, and his glasses. He managed the loosest sense of drying off, and draped the towel around his neck and shoulders; then, he put on his glasses, and tied off the robe. Unsure exactly whom had come upstairs, let alone what--or whom--they sought, he grabbed an awl from the workbench and edged nearer the door frame on bated breath.

In the dark of the upstairs room, he could only make out the edges of lime split lighting in contrast to the figure’s lit Pip-Boy screen. He shivered at a prickle of draft. The white uniform with black apron. Symmetrical, if not keloid-riddled, features. Sticks rifled through the secretary as though it didn’t belong to him. Unsure how to even begin to ask what the ghoul could’ve needed, 'Choly meekly closed the door behind himself.

“Need more light?”

Sticks jerked up to look at him.

“...Of course, of course.” He loosed a rumbling, agitated chuckle. “It’s all right, pal, that you, ah. Sealed that negotiation for me like that. It’s all right, because... because we’re partners. Isn’t that right? Partners.”

The ghoul rose to flip the switch for the three overhead lamps strung across the roof beams. Right off, ‘Choly noticed the ghoul’s black eye, and a ripped dishevelment marred with bits of fresh blood. ‘Choly chewed at his lower lip.

“Partners... Yeah.” He swallowed, and rubbed at his forearm with his free hand. He’d only been trying to help. “Are you okay? Could we-- talk? We need to talk. If-- if that’s all right.”

The juxtaposition of the encounter startled Sticks to a cautious desperation.

“Everything’s all right between us, right?”

“Of course. It’s not that. ...I need to sit.” He walked over to the secretary and took the desk chair for himself. Sticks sat on the corner of the bed. “I know I fucked up a lot yesterday, but I think I may have fucked up something else.”

He set the awl down on the desk, and swiveled to face Sticks. Picking what he felt he could afford to potentially damage further, he took hold of his left calf and knee, and purposefully loosed it again with a hollow chain of cartilaginous pops. His breath stuttered as he dangled his leg by the foot, but he kept his cool as he gave the ghoul a sardonic glance.

Sticks looked to him agape, with unfiltered, nauseated fascination.

“The cryogenic chemicals damaged my joints and skin, but I’ve managed for months until today. This is... something completely else.” He worked at resetting his knee as he continued, stifling jolts of revulsion. “I mean, even if it is the condition progressing, why all at once? And why-- this? It would be too much of a coincidence if the X-Cell Squared weren’t related... or the inhaler. That fucking inhaler.” He seethed, cupping his face in hand. “I was so tired when she handed me that stuff last night and told me it was Addictol. Fuck me, I’m stupid--”

“--You’re not stupid. She just knows how to trick people. ...Do you really suppose she gave you something that wasn’t Addictol?”

“I checked my Pip-Boy’s health diagnostics earlier. I’m still in withdrawals from chems I took prior to her giving me the inhaler. I could show you, if I-- if I knew where it was.”

“Hey now. I’m sure it’s safe. It’s just you, me, and the robot now.”

‘Choly toweled at his hair again, only to swivel around and look in the secretary for himself. He produced the Walden Drugs catalogue from one slot, and thumbed through it in search of specific pages.

“My current set of orthotics aren’t doing it. The officer’s gloves help, but that’s just my hands. The ankle and wrist braces, the postural corset--they’re just for sprains and such, not full dislocations. Neither you nor Angel seemed to notice earlier, but I fell down the stairs. I’m struggling to put one foot in front of the other. I’m a liability as I am. You called me wet cardboard the other day, and it just keeps feeling more true.“ He slapped the catalogue down in his lap, and shut his eyes to rub at them under his glasses with thumb and forefinger. “Look, I’m bad at asking for help. So: This is me asking for help. I know you don’t have to help me and that it’s probably prudent to ditch me... but I hope having me in your life means more to you than that.”

He held out the booklet turned to the relevant page. Sticks leaned to take it, and looked it over, uncurling the front half to inspect the cover, then back to the items. He face slacked in earnest as he flipped over to a locations listing.

“The closest one was Nashua, you said? Lexington didn’t have them?”

“I lived in the Lexington Walden’s stock room for months before it went up in flames. What I’ve got is the best I could find. Only the warehouses that stocked hospitals would have what’s on that page. They’re surgical grade. ...The Merrimack swallowed up the Lowell General Hospital, didn’t it?“ He slumped, unable to recall the building in the skyline as they’d passed through Downtown Historic. “You have no idea how badly I want to stay put. I love it here, with the bathtub, with the bed, with the you... But...” The idea of it eroded him to trembling. “I know it’s a long way. Especially on foot. But I can’t do it with just Angel. Especially since it’s out of ammo.”

“No, no. If you need this, then we need this. We needed a good reason to blow this place for a while. The Unfolded may seem to want to continue respecting the history this place has, Glenn Johnny’s included... But Lowell as a whole? They weren’t out here on exterminator duty, Mindy. They were doing recon on the locks and channels equipment. For the General.”

That nearly knocked ‘Choly out of the chair. When it clicked, he paled numb.

“The fuck do they want to-- Oh. Oh no.”

“Yeah. I’m not happy about it, either. Bare minimum, it’s gonna be like when a company puts a new building in. Except you and I both know that wont just be, what was it? Skunks? But worst case scenario? I don’t even want to begin to speculate what they plan to do with the river.” Weary, Sticks circled back to the catalogue. “Have you got a time estimate for this little recon? How long you think it’ll take to get there, and how long you intend to stick around?”

“I’m not sure. Does it matter much? We’re in agreement that a change of scenery’s desirable.”

Sticks traced at the details on the page, distant and in deep thought.

“It’s not just a change of scenery, is the thing. It’s a change of climate. I don’t know if you realize this, but Lowell’s on the southern threshold of the Hinter... and we’re coming up on Nor’easter season. Sure, the wildlife has got all big and wild, but so’s the weather. I’ll be mostly all right up there, being a ghoul, provided our shelter’s sound. But you? And the Handy?” The ghoul waved off his own train of thought. “You know what. Don’t sweat it. We’ll manage this. My experience, your grey matter.”

“Nor’easters? You’re worried over a chance there’s one this year? I’ve weathered dozens of ice storms in my life. Even a few hurricanes. And you’re a native Yankee, so you’ve got to have, too. We’ll be fine.” Denial wheezed from his nostrils, his lips pressed together tight. “I know it will put us even further from New Hampshire, but I do have one obligation first. I have to go to Billerica, to escort someone to the Concord suburbs. I should’ve taken them to safety before getting here, but I also didn’t know what I was getting myself into. They’ve been waiting for the Lowell conflict to blow over, and like me, they’re the last survivor of their location. I would have had to go check on them soon even if we stayed here.”

The ghoul squinted at him.

“Hazarding you’re confident they couldn’t just travel there themselves.”

“It shouldn’t take long at all!” ‘Choly threw his hands up. “One day, tops. We just need to get from here to there to Sanctuary Hills. It’s a Mister Handy. I couldn’t have brought it to Lowell and just left it. And it just feels too many kinds of wrong to just leave it all alone there, when it could be among some normal people again for once.”

Sticks weighed the various aspects about the proposition that didn’t sit well.

“If you’re having trouble just walking, do you suppose you’ll be in any condition to ride Angel down?”

“I, I don’t know.” 'Choly wilted into begging that left his companion too tongue-tied to object all the while. “We’ll figure that out, too! And you know what? This trip to Nashua isn’t just for me. Partners. I meant it, that we’re in this together. The long haul. The Lexington Walden was a smaller location, and even it had a sizable chem lab arrangement, with a large cache of stock. The Nashua Walden was classified as a full regional warehouse: it shipped to a dozen locations in the New England Commonwealth. Olivia gave me all those military chem formulas. That is what you were looking for just now, weren’t you? I’m as interested as you, to see what all I can make from a chem cookbook culminated from two hundred years of research.”

Sticks sat up at once and looked to him knowingly. He swatted his knee with the catalogue.

“Now that, I like to hear! What initiative! We’ll start out for all this tomorrow. You hear me? Let’s get to gathering things up tonight. We can do a once-over in the morning to make sure we’re not leaving anything important behind.”

“You’re not exhausted after all that stuff downstairs? After cooking for thirty?”

‘Choly felt even more pathetic than he sounded. He hadn’t even lifted a finger with a thing, yet was this worn out.

“We’ll go until we pass out, at least. We’ll sleep better that way. Hey Angel!” Sticks called out for the robot. “Set down that broom and dustpan for a bit and help us out up here!” He chortled excitedly. “Ohh, bless it all. You want to cook chems for me. And you want to wear this for me. I could kiss you.”

Something between a grimace and a grin tore ‘Choly’s face.

“You... you could kiss me, you know.”

“You’re not wrong.” Sticks swept him up in both arms and plopped him back on the freshly made bed, only narrowly taking the care to be delicate with him. He leaned down over the top of him, a hand to each side of ‘Choly’s shoulders, to smooch him. “We’re great together. You know that, right?”

‘Choly squinted awkwardly, and reached to turn off the screen light on Sticks’s Pip-Boy. He pulled him into another kiss, and looked him in the eye with adoration.

“Always have been.”

“I’ll have you know I’ve no intention of leaving this place without first cleaning up after such horrid house guests.” Angel scoffed in frustration as it appeared upstairs, oblivious to the pair making out on the bed. “And I hate to be the bearer of such information, but if I’m to carry Mister Carey, we must pack as light as possible. It’s not to guilt you, Sir, but even with the refinements you’ve made to my hydraulics, the added weight does result in a higher fuel expenditure. My ammunition isn’t the only thing running low after this week.”

“So we’ll make more frequent refueling pit stops for you, buddy,” Sticks mumbled over his shoulder, still pecking all over ‘Choly’s face and neck and shoulders where he could get at it. The little creep soaked it all up, squirming like it tickled. “You just worry about carrying Carey here. Anything heavy I need to bring, I’ll carry myself.”

‘Choly grabbed his face to get his attention.

“Hey. Maybe Angel could carry all the supplies, and you carry me? I’ve got to weigh less than that Flamer did, and you hefted that thing all over town without hardly ever setting it down.”

The ghoul melted into dopey chuff.

“Mindy. Babe. You do not weigh less than a Flamer.” He smiled, heavy lidded. “You’re on something, though. Sounds like it might work. I can guarantee you, that everything I’m bringing totally weighs less than you. So if I carry you, and Angel carries everything I’m bringing, that’s less strain on its flame.”

“Can I entrust you with my most precious cargo, Mister Hawthorne?”

He planted one more forceful smooch on ‘Choly before meeting gazes in a dreamy determination.

“He’s my prize, too, ya know.”

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#fallout fanfic #fallout 4 fanfic #fallout 4 #fallout #fo4 #sole survivor #mister handy #ghoul oc #melancholy #angel #sticks #the anatomy of melancholy #mm designer bags under my everything and everywhere #disobedient daily dress intensifies

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indiavolowetrust · 4 years

Text

Matthew 7:7

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

TW: Mentions of Blood and Violence.

The inside of Satan’s room is just as I remember it: dark, filled to the top with books, novellas, and research guides, and almost completely devoid of space. Filled shelves nearly line every wall, his desk nothing more than storage for a number of unorganized documents. And a small reading lamp, of course. It burns dimly at the edge of his desk, wedged between a pamphlet and a mug filled with pens. Satan’s false reading glasses sit beside it. A clock hung haphazardly on a wall indicates the time to be a quarter to midnight. A clap of thunder reverberates just outside the walls of the House of Lamentation, and I do my best to suppress a shiver.

Satan had said nothing as he took my half-conscious, shell-shocked body into the House of Lamentation and neither had I -- so it had been a silent agreement. Not that I had much reason to protest. My throat still aches with the strength of the incubus’ grip, the lacerations at my cheekbone and knee shooting sharp sparks of pain up my body. I can only imagine the countless internal bruises.

I draw myself deeper within my frigid, soaked clothing. Hold the borrowed towel close to my body. Satan’s expansive bed creaks ominously as I shift, despite my diminutive frame, and I can only hope that his sheets are staying mostly dry underneath the towel. Nothing had been salvageable. Aside from the school bag, Satan had been unable to recover anything more than a water-damaged textbook and a number of illegible texts on the street. My D.D.D. was out of the question.

The incubus had stopped screaming long before he was done. A reflection of what the incubus had promised to do unto him. Satan had snapped each of the incubus’ fingers one by one, starting with the one the demon had used to gesture towards me. The incubus had managed to wriggle out from under Satan’s grip at one point, attempting to flee, and Satan had simply shattered each of the incubus’ legs. A measure of necessity. And then the incubus no longer possessed them, the offending limbs torn off and thrown elsewhere, and the blood had bloomed in rainwater. But Satan had kept him alive. Satan had kept the incubus conscious for as long as possible. I had only watched in silence as Satan’s form became splattered with crimson, his immaculate appearance for once tarnished.

I did nothing to stop his rampage. I should have screamed for him to stop, should have barred him from tearing the demon asunder, should have been horrified at the gruesome scene before me -- and yet I could not bring myself to do so. I could not bring myself to act under pretense. And when Satan was finished, regarding me with blood and viscera on his hands, I was not afraid.

The door swings open, and I nearly startle out of my place on Satan’s bed. Satan shuffles quickly but quietly into the room, his arms full with what appears to be rolls of bandages, tins of ointment, and bottles of antibacterial spray, then closes the door. The items replace a pile of research papers on his desk.

“I know you were adamant about holding off until tomorrow about reporting the incident to Lucifer and Diavolo, but it would be best if we treated your injuries now. We can have someone more qualified take a look at you in the morning.” Satan takes the antibacterial spray and ointment in his hands. “Where should we start?”

I open my mouth to speak -- but my voice is only a quiet, painful croak, the act straining my bruised windpipe. You don’t have to do this, I want to protest. You’ve already done so much. You shouldn’t feel obligated.

Given my current state and the resolve in Satan’s gaze, however, I doubt that I’ll be able to convince him otherwise.

Satan takes my chin in his fingers, angling my head, and I wince as the antibacterial spray hits the scraped flesh of my cheekbone. Thankfully, the burning abates after a moment. He works quickly but efficiently, applying the ointment, gauze, and bandages to the area. His expression hardens somewhat at the sight of bruised skin at my neck and collar bone, his impassivity slipping, but he fails to address the matter. His fingers are a mere brush against my skin when he applies the medicine, gentle and fleeting. His movements are measured. Steady. He pauses for a moment each time before treating an area, waiting for my silent but sure consent. The tension is nearly palpable. I nearly catch his gaze a few times as he works, regarding his brilliant green eyes with my dark, shadowed ones -- but he deftly avoids my gaze.

“You have pacts with all of us, don’t you?” he finally asks, breaking the silence. “Why didn’t you just activate one and summon one of us to your side? You were lucky I went out looking for you.”

I force my voice out of my damaged throat. “I’m not … Solomon.”

“Yes, but you could have easily forced one of us to walk you back home after your shift. Even Mammon knows how dangerous the Devildom is for humans,” Satan chastises, placing the finishing touches on my damaged throat. A quick press secures the gauze in place. “I’m sure he would be glad to accompany you.”

I shake my head. “Your will … is not mine.”

I hold his gaze for what feels like the first time in hours, unwavering. Perhaps it is considered acceptable for a demon like him -- expected, even -- but I cannot truly imagine myself doing so. To hold another's will in the palm of my hand and crush it would simply be an unthinkable act. And I had narrowly escaped death plenty of times before, besides. If I were to be devoured or otherwise slaughtered for being human, so be it. I would not needlessly endanger someone else. I am already a burden, as is. How could I be so selfish? Why would I be willing to be even more of a burden?

I try to say as much to the wrathful demon.

My throat nearly collapses underneath the strain of my efforts, my lips fumbling awkwardly around the Enochian words. The thoughts that do emerge from my mouth are nearly incomprehensible, my Spanish accent hitting me full force, and so I resort to accompanying my audible words with gestures. Satan regards me wordlessly, his expression unmoving and indiscernible. I feel a pang of embarrassment. Had he not understood?

You idiot, I chide myself, mentally slapping myself in the face. Of course he doesn’t understand. How would anyone be able to tell what --

He laughs.

It is a throaty, restrained sound. A smile erupts over his features, and he brings a hand over his mouth, as if to prevent himself from laughing any longer at my expense. I can’t help but stare in bewilderment. It is easily one of the most genuine expressions I have ever seen on Satan. Then he is placing a hand atop of my wet, coiled curls, ruffling my hair as if I were a pet. I feel a tinge of heat begin to rise to my cheeks.

“You really do say the weirdest things,” he says, teasing me. I open and close my mouth, a protest on the tip of my tongue, and his smile only widens. “The only good thing about this is that you can’t ask many questions as you usually do.”

I frown in disapproval, but I make no effort to address the topic further. Satans screws the top onto the ointment, intending to put away the first aid supplies -- and then thinks better of it. He gives me an expectant look. His eyes linger over the towel he had lent me, his hands remaining on the container of medicine. The question is obvious.

“Only … one,” I rasp, shifting myself slightly out of the confines of the towel. I do my best to peel off my pantyhose, wincing at the sensation of the cloth pulling away from the torn skin, and then I gesture at the wound. The laceration is widespread but not deep, thankfully. “On my knee.”

Satan nods. “Just a second, then.”

* * *

My wet blazer hangs over Satan’s desk chair, the piles of books pushed far enough away from the garment. Satan had been thorough in his efforts to treat my wounds as much as possible, and an innumerable number of bandages of strips of gauze cover my body. Bandages and ointment cover the scrapes on my wrist, the laceration at my cheekbone, the wound on my knee, and the purple, budding bruising at my throat. Satan looks at me with satisfaction when he deems the task complete, his gaze drawing over his work. Then he gathers the medical supplies strewn on his bed and desk, taking them in his arms, and begins to head towards the door.

Wait, please.

“Wait,” I rasp, the word coming out a little more forcefully than intended. He gives me a sidelong glance, only a few steps away from the doorway. “Let me repay you.”

Satan cracks a smile, teasing me. “If this is about tutoring again, I’m sure it can wait until tomorrow.”

That’s --

The warmth is brief. Fleeting. Satan’s form stands before mine before I can blink, even with the medical supplies in his arms, and his lips draw themselves away from the curls plastered on my forehead. I register the sensation of the chaste kiss on my skin after the act, my senses not quite recovered from the ordeal, and Satan smiles down at me. That polite, perfectly amiable smile. He steps away to create distance between us, ever the gentleman, and gathers his bearings. His back begins to turn to me once more.

I grab his arm before he can do so, forcing him to face me with an unexpected strength. There is only a split moment for Satan’s features to register his surprise, his eyes widening -- and then my cold lips press to his, drinking in his heat. His lips are just as I had imagined: soft, warm, and telling of a kindness hidden beneath his exterior. It only lasts the span of a moment. I release my hold on his arm when I pull away, retreating back into my prior position.

A heavy flush has spread itself over Satan, his expression indecipherable. He stands stock-still, the medical supplies still in his arms, and only blinks at me in the aftermath, seemingly unsure how to react. Silence falls between us. Lightning strikes somewhere in the distance, illuminating both of our forms in the near-darkness.

Oh.

I cover my face in embarrassment, pressing a hand to the side of my bandaged cheek. “I -- I’m sorry, I --”

He steals my words away in the next breath, kissing me with a fervor I hadn’t expected. The medical supplies clatter audibly onto the floor, the bandages rolling away. He doesn’t care. One of his knees props up onto the side of the bed, allowing him to position himself over me, and both of his hands move to cradle the sides of my face. The kiss is desperate, shameless -- and yet it is still undeniably, irrevocably gentle. Demure, somehow. Satan runs his tongue across my bottom lip, asking for permission, and I meet his tongue with mine.

He kisses me over and over, as if he were afraid I would never allow him to do so again. As if he were trying to make it perfect every time. He braces his hands on my shoulders when he finally draws away from the act, his countenance completely undone. Satan runs a hand through his hair, averting his gaze.

“You’re cold.” Satan glances at my wet uniform. “If I take you back to your room, you can change into something dry.”

“I can borrow your clothes,” I counter.

“You’re injured. If we continue, I might hurt you.”

“You won’t.”

“I just dragged you in from the rain,” he says. “You aren’t clean.”

My throat crackles, but I force my voice to speak the words. “You aren’t clean either. We can take a bath together.”

Satan sighs. I can see his resolve slipping. “You’re afraid of me.”

“Am I?” I ask. I slowly move myself off the side of the bed, forcing my body to stand. The white blouse and dark skirt of my uniform fall to the floor, feather-light even in their current state. I take a step closer, my head just at chest-height on the wrathful demon, and stare up at him through the darkness. “Am I, really?”

part 6

#obey me #obey me satan #obey me shall we date #obey me fanfic #obey me oc #obey me original character #writing #writing practice #tw: blood and violence #tw: violence #tw: blood

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mythicamagic · 5 years

Text

Mirror image: Yui Komori oneshot

Another writing commission for @s-e-kwan

Yui’s personality drastically changes, to the point that Ruki takes it upon himself to find out the reason. Even if it means confining her to a darker cage. NOT a Cordelia fic. Mild RukiYui vibes.

Rated T for the usual darker themes in DL such as abuse.

The bathroom had become a welcome reprieve, her own personal sanctuary from the Mukamis. Were she still in the Sakamaki mansion, Shuu would probably be lounging in the bath, but right then Yui leaned against the sink alone, sighing.

She inspected the bite marks on her skin, wincing tiredly.

Lately she’d been stretched a little too thin. Every inch of clothing scraped over the raised bumps of past marks. There were too many, to the point that her body didn’t even feel like it was hers anymore.

Yui swayed on her feel, quickly gripping the sink tighter. Tears strung her lashes. “I’m so tired.”

Her reflection stared back with surprisingly hard, apathetic eyes, “No, not tired. Pathetic.”

“But what can I do?”

The mirror Yui’s lips curved up into a sneer, tilting her chin up to gaze down at her. “Anything is better than nothing, worm. Oh no, wait. You’re Livestock, aren’t you? A Sow, a bitch, a slut. That’s exactly what you are if you’re just going to roll over and take it like a good girl.”

“B-but I’m powerless against them. And everything…hurts, I don’t want any more pain that would come from fighting. I’d rather…” she trembled, the tears finally escaping to roll hotly down her ashen cheeks. “I’d rather just stop existing.”

“…That can be arranged.”

------

It started out with minor things. Small snips in her voice, a slight sharpness in her eyes that wasn’t there before.

But gradually it worsened, or perhaps she’d been holding back.

“She bit me! All I was doing was taking some blood and she bit me! What the hell is wrong with her lately?” Kou snapped, gripping Yui tightly by the hair while turning to glare at Ruki, waiting for his input.

The elder Mukami looked on levelly. “Normally I’d encourage punishment, Kou. But the Livestock is looking frail. Allow her time to re-cooperate and then act.”

Kou tsked and flung the girl down to land hard on the floor, before leaving. Ruki observed her carefully, blinking slowly when her body shook with quiet laughter.

-------

“I’M GONNA KILL HER!” A voice thundered through the mansion.

Glancing up from his book, Ruki watched as Yuma stormed in, looking around the room frantically.

“Problem?”

“Yeah there’s a fucking problem, she DESTROYED my garden!”

Blue-grey eyes widened marginally. The book closed with a sharp snap as he stood. “I’ll take care of it. You’ll kill her as you are now. Call Azusa to help you salvage anything.”

“Tch, I saw him not too long ago. She scratched him up pretty good with his knife. Least he was happy about that…”

Ruki’s eyes darkened.

Yuma didn’t have time to protest as he disappeared, filtering through the scents in the air and finding her fairly easily in Kou’s room. The idol happened to be out working. When he finally appeared, Ruki stopped, taking her in.

She was hunched forward before the vanity mirror, applying a sultry red to her lips. Her dark clothes were unsubtle, exposing a ridiculous amount of skin. He scented blood and pinpointed it on her ear, noting she’d forced an earring in through the skin.

“Whatever possessed you to attempt this cheap shot at rebellion, Livestock, it ends now.”

Yui shifted, blonde hair sliding back as she glanced at him coyly over her shoulder.

Ice briefly chilled his spine. “…Cordelia?” He quietly guessed.

She giggled airily, eyes dulled. “No. She died a long while ago, when the Sakamaki’s still had me.”

“Then there is no reason to be acting out so childishly. As your Master, it falls to me to punish you now-“

“You are not my Master.”

The low, bitter words from that voice, that mouth, made something snap. Ruki seized her chin in his hand, grabbing a wipe and pressing it hard to her lips, swiping the rouge roughly. It smudged the colour over her face, making it resemble dried blood.

He then materialised them into a deep, dark space.

“W-where are we?”

“A place where Livestock go to be rehabilitated.”

-----

A few weeks in solitary confinement changed nothing. Though he’d tucked her away in a room beneath the house, more specifically in the dungeons, she stared back at him with those dulled, mocking eyes. Depriving her of food and water only weakened her, so he eased up on such extremes.

Her words were no less biting.

“You’re disgusting.”

Bite!

“I hate you!”

Bite!

“You enjoy this, don’t you? You like hurting me just so you can feel…gn, in control.”

Pause.

Ruki’s lips hovered over her skin, fresh bite marks blooming. No discipline softened her to complacency either.

“What was that?” He asked lowly, tugging her up to look at him. Sitting on her plain, sad little bed, the two observed each other. As her sole provider, he’d expected Yui to start softening for him.

“Heh,” she shivered, skin pale. “You’re a coward. You place yourself as ‘Master’ just so you can forget about-“

Steel fingers wrapped around her throat. “Say one more word and I will end your pathetic existence, Eve,” silken tones hissed, fire and brimstone churning the dead sea in his veins, igniting a blood lust like no other-

Rose-pink eyes brightened marginally, and Ruki stopped.

His mind clicked, and slowly, carefully, that tight grip slackened, releasing her.

“What are you doing?” She snapped, voice straining a little. “Y-you’re a coward! Like I was saying, you used to be Livestock too! You still are!”

He did not respond, only moved her off his legs, standing.

“Now I understand.”

Yui glared, hugging her arms. “Understand what?”

Ruki did not answer, disappearing from sight and leaving her entirely alone.

----

Raising a hand to shield her eyes, Yui winced at the brightness of the sun. With treacle immediacy, she adjusted, blinking and glancing around.

Ruki had taken her out of her cage, only to get in a car and drive. They’d been on the road for hours, to the point that she’d nodded off, arms curled loosely around her thin body. Eventually she’d been roused to wake, now standing before an old, worn down church.

She recognised it immediately, jolting.

This was the place where she’d been raised.

This was home.

Or at least it had been. In just two years it seemed to have fallen into disrepair. Weeds overrun the front garden, and ivy now burst through shattered windows. Even the walls looked tinged grey, dulled.

“It was abandoned shortly after you left,” Ruki uttered, hands in pockets.

“…What happened?”

“The Vampire King made good on his word. In exchange for you, the nuns here received whatever they wanted.

“I don’t believe y-“

“But they ultimately changed their minds, They did…want you back, Livestock.”

Her frame jolted, as though she’d been slapped. Some old tendencies came back as she held her hands close to her chest. “Even Father?”

“He knew nothing about it, apparently. However, the Vampire King couldn’t allow them to interfere. They either had their memories erased or lie dead. I don’t know anything else.”

Fragile shoulders shook, and her voice softened into one he recognised.

“Why…why are you telling me this?”

His heavy attention slid to rest on her. “You want to die. That’s where this shift in behaviour has come from. You’ve been trying to anger us enough so that we’d snap and free you from misery. Isn’t that it?”

Limp, blonde hair fell forward her head bowed, trembling.

He continued in his usual calm, serious tone. “I can’t pin-point if your personality has split into two, or if you’re merely unstable. Either way, it was obvious you needed a reminder of why you’re alive.”

Yui gave a weak chuckle, turning to finally look up at him, her eyes completely dry. “You’ll just say I’m alive to awaken Adam.”

“Such a thing clearly won’t motivate you. No, the girl I know is sentimental enough to still carry a rosary long after she’s been damned.” He uttered, grasping her chin gently. “You must live for your own pride. Just as I did. If you can’t right now, then live for the ones who tried to save you.”

A choked sound escaped from the back of her throat, the sun catching dulled rosy eyes enough to give them a brief light. “Oh…I-I don’t…” her voice wavered, tears collecting and rolling free finally. “I don’t even know who I am anymore,” she admitted softly.

Ruki blinked, releasing her. He thought for a moment, sliding pale hands into his pockets and wandering towards the small gate at the front of the church. “Oi,” he called, glancing over his shoulder.

“Show us around this place, Yui.”

She stared, something subtly changing in her expression that transformed her entire face, as though only just hearing her name for the first time.

“U-us?”

He nodded to the area behind her, and Yui turned on her heel, breath hitching at the sight of the other Mukamis, who padded out of the dark of the surrounding woods.

Yui swallowed, blubbering. “Oh Yuma, I’m so sorry for-“

“Quit ya crying, Sow,” he tsked, uncomfortably rubbing the back of his neck.

“But I owe all of you an apology.”

“Hehe~ well we sometimes get carried away with things too,” Kou hummed. “How about in exchange, do as Ruki says and show us around, kay?”

Yui nodded, clutching her hands close to her chest and squeezing the rosary, wiping away her tears with her free hand.

“O-okay.”

#Diabolik lovers #yui komori #ruki mukami #mukami brothers #diahell #dialovers #diabolik lovers fanfiction

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pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles · 6 years

Text

Like A River (Girls Talk Boys part 17)

Shut your mouth, baby stand and deliver Holy hands, oh they make me a sinner Like a river, like a river Shut your mouth and run me like a river

Choke this love till the veins start to shiver One last breath till the tears start to wither Like a river, like a river Shut your mouth and run me like a river

(A/N this is a longer chapter than usual. I seriously considered splitting it into two but I couldn’t do it)

18+ label on this one for sexual language and situations

Previous Chapter

Chapter One

The pounding on his front door jolted Calum awake. Why was he on his couch?

“I'M COMING” he yelled and the knocking ceased.

He blinked still confused until it all came back in a rush.

The Halloween party, Cher, Camille, the alarm, finding Duke asleep next to a purse.

Calum got up and headed towards the door.

Michael's text, Ameena's anger then the tears, Camille's hurt, going back to the party, finding out Camille had ended up in bed with -

He opened his front door. Ashton was waiting. “Last night was shit, and tonight is gonna be shit if we don't clear the air” Ashton hugged him.

“Calum?” A voice called out from upstairs.

Ashton looked at him incredulous “Ameena's still here?”

Calum nodded “she cried herself to sleep on the couch.”

“Of course she did” Ashton snapped.

“Calum who the fuck was at the door? Oh Ashton it's just you. Got your chubby little girlfriend with you?” Ameena let out a sharp bitter laugh as she narrowed her eyes at him.

“Just so you know I don't want you in my house ever again. Last night was uncalled for, you embarrassed and insulted my friends.” Ashton glared at her while Ameena smirked.

“Whatever works right?” She asked

“Not this time Ameena” Calum spoke up, his voice weary and harsh from a restless night and too many cigarettes. “I can't do this anymore. Last night was just pointless. It didn't accomplish anything except embarrass me and make me realize how tired of all of this I really am. I have tried to be nice about this because I really loved you once. Right now I just need you to get anything that's yours out of my condo, give me back your key and leave.” Ameena and Ashton both stood there stunned and speechless. “You have 15 minutes I suggest you hurry” Calum snapped, cooly turning his back to Ameena as he headed into the kitchen to make some coffee.

Ameena stormed back up to the bedroom and slammed the door. Calum could hear her cursing and banging of drawers. Duke came barreling down the stairs to hide under the couch. Calum poured a cup of coffee with a splash of milk . He nodded towards the machine but Ashton shook his head.

“Look Cal about last night” Ashton started.

“Not right now” Calum shook his head. “Wait until she leaves.”

Ashton shot him a look “you ok man?”

“I will be” Calum sighed looking at his watch. Grabbing his coffee mug he walked back into the living room. They could still hear Ameena upstairs. Calum walked over to the closet grabbed two jackets one grey leather, one red suede. Reaching down he grabbed a small pair of rain boots and a large duffel bag. He laid the jackets on the bottom and put the boots in a plastic bag on top. He went into the downstairs bathroom and snagged her emergency makeup bag.

As Ameena was coming down the stairs with two full travel bags. Calum was gathering up framed photos, things she'd bought him, and anything in sight he knew belonged to her and putting it in the bag.

“You're really fucking serious” Ameena started to sniffle.

“You can cry if you want but just go. We're going out for breakfast. We'll follow you out so I can make sure you give back your parking pass.” Calum's voice was flat and emotionless.

Ameena let a tear fall but when Calum met her eyes with no reaction she switched tactics

“Ashton must be disappointed you're going through with this. Now he has to give up your whore.” Ameena's voice was pure venom.

“Don't call her that” Ashton spoke up pushing himself off the wall.

“Of course you'd come to her defense. I saw the pics on Lucy's IG you two were all over each other last night” Ameena lashed out only finding the tiniest hint of satisfaction watching Calum's jaw twitch slightly.

“Your key” Calum held his hand out. Ameena pulled it off her key ring and threw it against the wall. Calum calmly took her key ring out of her hand removed the actual key, handed her the bag he'd packed and pointed towards the door.They watched as Ameena walked to her car and peeled away. They caught up to her at the security gate. Ameena pulled the parking sticker off her window and handed it to the attendant. She flipped Calum and Ashton off behind her and sped away.

Calum and Ashton sat down across from each other in the booth. Both ordered near identical breakfasts of eggs, bacon, toast and hash browns. Ashton added on a side of pancakes while Calum got a fruit cup.

Waiting for their food Ashton took his phone out and handed it to Cal. He already had Lucy's Instagram page up and Calum scrolled through the pictures. Sure enough there were Ashton and Camille wrapped around each other. Camille hanging on his arm while they played beer pong. Ashton behind Camille with his arms wrapped around her waist while they danced. Then a video of the pass the ice cube game with Camille in between Harry and Ashton. Calum handed his phone back to him.

“So what happened?” Calum asked him.

“After you left Camille was trying to hold it together but then she started to cry.” Ashton's voice wavered slightly. “I chose to stay by her the whole time and try and salvage her night. Yeah we got flirty and yeah we had a cheeky little kiss and a few cuddles. The whole time she's looking around for you.”

Calum closed his eyes and dropped his head into his hands. “Don't you dare feel bad. Ameena went psycho and I'm so proud of the way you handled her today.” Ashton told him placing a hand on Cal's shoulder. He pulled back when the server brought their food.

“Cal look at me. What is it? Talk to me please.” Ashton was worried about his best friend.

“This has been so hard. The fighting with Ameena, this shit with Camille fucking hell maybe I should walk away from both of them and just start over.” Calum shrugged and looked away.

“Are you fucking serious? Is that really what you want?” Ashton couldn't believe what he was hearing.

“I don't know ok I don't fucking know ok” Calum's voice went up and people began to look their way.

“Cal it's ok I'm here for you. We'll get you through this.” Now Ashton was really worried.

“I'm just exhausted. I don't know anything anymore.” Calum looked away and began eating. Ashton followed his lead shoveling food into his mouth while keeping an eye on Calum.

“So why did Camille sleep in your bed?” Calum asked.

“Camille was absolutely shitfaced and I was afraid she would turn into a crying mess. I don't know if you heard everything Ameena said to her but it had Camille rattled. Cody split and Cher left to shag Spongebob. I was literally the only guy who didn't bring a date left to see to her. I gave her a pair of pajamas and we slept in the same bed. Nothing happened, all we did was talk about you.” Ashton told him.

“Do you like her?” Another question from Calum.

“Listen to me” Ashton leaned in and looked Calum in the eye. “I adore Camille, but not in the way you do and you of all people know I'm interested in someone else. Camille and I are very good friends who bonded over wanting something we couldn't have. Why are you so worried about it anyways? You know I would never go behind your back.”

“That's the craziest thing about all of this. You know I've never been the jealous or possessive type. I mean that fight I got into with Brandon was because he put hands on Ameena and wouldn't stop. With Camille it's this violent rush of emotion. The second day she was here I got jealous over her and my brain has been fucked ever since.” Calum rubbed his eyes.

“Go home get some rest. Tonight we're all going out to Harry's club. You and Camille can kiss and make up. We can all relax and have a good night.” Ashton smiled at him picking up the check.

Calum kicked off his shoes and headed upstairs to shower. He let the water pour over his skin and soothe his nerves when out of nowhere all the pent up stress and emotion he'd bottled up came crashing down on him in waves. Unable to hold back Calum broke down and cried.

First came sadness tinged with regret. Even though it all went wrong Ameena had been his first love and they'd had some wonderful times together. His mother would call tomorrow after word got back to her from one of her best friends aka Ameena's mom. He felt guilty about the disruption it would cause in other people's lives. He gave himself up to the tears, no longer trying to hold them back. There was the relief being done with a relationship that had long since turned toxic. Sobs racked his shoulders as the frustration and anger hit him. He'd hurt everyone by not having the strength to end it with Ameena months ago or at the very least in Europe. He was furious Ameena had lashed out at Camille and hurt her and panicked that Camille might not think he was worth the trouble after being publicly insulted twice.

Camille. Camille. Camille. Fucking hell. He sniffled regaining control again. He washed his face and hair, gave himself a quick tug and finished up his shower routine. He padded to his room naked using the towel to dry his hair. His room was a mess. Ameena had dumped clothes everywhere. Nothing was broken but she'd taken a few things that weren't hers.

The cologne she'd bought him last Christmas. His green hoodie was swiped and she took the damn candle. For some reason that cracked him up. There he was fully nude, laughing his ass off in the middle of his wrecked bedroom. Duke who'd been sleeping on his bed was staring at Calum as if he'd lost his mind. Maybe he had. He realized he needed to get some sleep if he were going out tonight. It was 1pm there was plenty of time. He crawled into bed and Duke snuggled in for a nap. He could leave the mess for tomorrow. Calum wondered if Camille would even want to be around him never mind actually have sex with him now.

It was Retro Rewind at The Chelsea which meant the music was all 80's, 90's and early 2000's. Britney Spears’ Toxic was playing as Camille and Cher showed up with Harry and his date Kaye along with Lucy and Tom.

Harry was rocking one of his trademark suits. This one was purple paisley over a white shirt unbuttoned halfway down his chest. Kaye coordinated in a cute lilac mini dress. Tom went with a more casual look burgundy button up and black jeans. Lucy was a stunner in a bright blue swinging halter dress alongside him.

Cher wore black denim shorts a white tank top and a blue and green tie dye duster with black combat boots. Her hair was up in two twisty buns like mouse ears.

Camille had a root touch up that morning but they hadn't put the color back in so instead of pink hair it was platinum blonde worn loose and wavy. She was wearing a red leather mini skirt and a black corset top that gave her cleavage up to her chin. Black knee high lace up boots and bright red lipstick completed the look.

Camille had never been in the VIP lounge before. The Chelsea went all out. Overlooking the club there was a separate bar just for them, bottle service, plush couches, a dancing pole in case anyone felt daring enough and even a private bathroom so one didn't have to mingle with the peasants just to pee. Even a separate entrance/exit for celebrity guests.

“If you'd told me 4 months ago we'd end up in the VIP of The Chelsea as personal guests of Harry Styles I would've slapped you and called you a liar.” Cher leaned into Camille handing her a margarita.

“I know right?” Camille laughed and shook her head. They heard a commotion behind them. Camille whipped her head around but it was just Lucy's brother and a couple Tom's friends.

“Waiting for someone?” Cher raised her eyebrows.

“Shut up” Camille poked her.Just then as if on cue the music changed and the boys appeared.

What a man, what a man, what a man,

What a mighty good man

Gotta say it again now

What a man, what a man, what a man

Camille smacked Cher in the arm as both of them tried not to be too obvious. Holy fucking hell they all looked incredibly sexy.

Michael was in his usual look. Black skinnies, high necked black and white shirt, black coat and boots, rings and glasses.

Luke was killing it with his red shirt showing off plenty of his chest, matching nails, skin tight black trousers and silver glitter boots. Both dates dressed to match with Crystal in black and silver shorts and a crop top and Summer in a black catsuit trimmed in bright red.

Ashton was cheeky in a pink silk short sleeved top and black pants and boots. His gold necklaces glinted against his exposed skin.

Camille’s eyes landed on Calum and she couldn't breathe. His hair was curly and in his eyes which in itself was enough to make her melt. He had on the black long sleeve button up with white pinstripes, black skinny jeans that made his ass look extra cute and boots. Camille licked her lips and tried to calm her racing pulse. Blushing furiously she had to look away certain the entire room could read her thoughts.

Lucy came over to grab them so they could dance and Camille snapped out of her trance. A much as she wanted Calum after last night he had to make a move.

Calum and Ashton took a shot and then grabbed a beer before looking around the room. Lucy and Tom had their usual crew. Cher looked adorable with her hair up. Calum didn't know the curvy blonde girl Cher was talking to as he glanced away searching for Camille before it clicked in his brain.

His throat went dry and he couldn't swallow. Camille usually dressed modestly rarely trying for overly sexy, so to see her dressed so blatantly provocative caught him by surprise. Calum wasn't the only one appreciating her new look as what appeared to be Lucy's brother hovered nearby.

Calum scowled at him and sat down on one of the couches to gather up the courage liquid or otherwise to approach Camille. Camille saw Calum frown at her and decided against trying to talk to him if he was in a bad mood. Besides Drew, Lucy's brother, was pleasant enough for the time being. Although he was drinking at an alarming rate and Camille sensed he wasn't a pretty drunk. For right now she was gonna drink and dance with Tom and Lucy.

Cher didn't hesitate to make her way over to the guys. As the couples had separated from Ashton and Cal, Cher headed that way.

“What's up Cool Guy Cal and Mr Bravo” Cher giggled.

“Hey pretty lady why don't you sit next to me” Ashton was quick with a joke. Cher settled in between them for a chat and a drink.

Calum chugged his beer and ordered another. Cher raised her eyebrows. “A little liquid courage never hurt” he told her sheepishly.

“For fucks sake Calum just go talk to her” Cher was exasperated.

“She looks busy” Calum pouted watching Camille dance with Dan? Dave? Drew? Drew, that's it. He looked like a fucking Drew.

Camille was absolutely sick of Drew and had finally screwed up her courage to go talk to Calum bad mood or not. She leaned in to whisper in Lucy's ear telling her she'd be back when she felt strong arms wrap around her waist. She squirmed to get away but Drew wasn't letting go.

“C'mon Camille let's dance” he slurred in her ear thrusting against her.

“Drew knock it off you're drunk” Lucy smacked her brother's arm to no avail.

Camille tried to get away but he was locked on to her. Until he wasn't. Suddenly she was free and Drew was on the floor. She turned around confused to find Calum enraged and standing over Drew.

“That's my girl. If you touch her again it'll be the last thing your ever do.” Calum's voice was tight and controlled and no one doubted he meant what he said.

Camille's jaw dropped as Calum stalked past her into the bathroom trailed by Ashton and Lucy's friend.Seconds later Camille pushed into the bathroom.Calum was leaned up against the wall with Ashton on one side and Lucy's friend Jessica hovering trying to touch him but he shrugged her off.

“Can you give us some privacy” Camille asked.Ashton moved towards the door Jessica continued to hover.

“Get out” Camille snapped at her and she scurried off behind Ashton.

“What the shit Hood?” Camille was standing inches from him. “Last night you leave with your girlfriend and never come back and now you wanna act like I belong to you. You can't have it both ways.”

“I packed Ameena's shit this morning. Took her key and her parking pass. Its over and done. I don't want it both ways. I only want to have you.” Calum's face was just inches from Camille's.

“So take me” Camille raised up on her toes and snaked her hand to the back of his neck pulling him in for a kiss.Calum's hands dug into her waist as his mouth met hers. Camille's melted under the soft yet demanding feel of Calum's lips against hers. His tongue finding its way to battle with hers as they clung to each other battling for dominance while submitting to desire all at once.Camille reached down to rub his hard cock through his pants while passionately kissing him with so much hunger that Calum falls back against the bathroom stall door.

He pulls back “Are you sure this is what you want? You really want to do this here in a bathroom?” Calum searches her face for any sign of hesitation.

Camille stares back at him. “Every time I hesitate something gets in my way. I don't care where it happens. I just want you.”

Calum smirked before yanking her hair back and attacking her neck. Kissing, biting and licking his way across her throat sending shivers down her spine. His hand slid into her shirt twisting her nipple between his fingers causing Camille to cry out. Camille grabbed his cheeks kissing him fiercely as her hands clawed at his belt.

“You don't have to” Calum told her.

“Oh but I want to” Camille gave him a wicked grin causing his heartbeat to quicken before she ducked onto her knees and her mouth was on his cock. Swirling her tongue around the tip while gazing up at him Camille savored the moment before taking his length down her throat. Calum grunted and tried to grab her hair but she swatted his hands away. Camille set her own pace using her hands to pump and twist while she sucked him off. She used her fingers and tongue in ways Calum hadn't experienced before making it impossible for him to speak. The strained moans coming from his throat sent shivers to her core. “Oh shit” Calum threw his head back against the stall his fingers unable to resist tangling in her hair as Camille made him cum down her throat. Calum's knees went weak and he looked up at Camille who stood up and wiped her mouth with a very satisfied smirk.

“You're in so much trouble now” Calum told her grabbing her wrist. He used one hand to hold her wrists behind her back while the other slid up her thigh and under her skirt. Camille gasped as she felt him move her panties to the side and one of his long fingers slide into her slowly. She hissed as he moved excruciatingly slow pulling out then adding another finger and sliding back in. “Please don't tease” Camille whimpered.

“As you wish” Calum shot her a devilish look before releasing her wrists and pushing her skirt up her hips. Continuing to pump his fingers inside her Calum's lips found her clit wrapping around it and sucking gently.“Fuck Calum” Camille tried and failed to be quiet.Calum had her on the tip of his tongue and between the way she tasted and the sounds she was making he could feel his dick getting hard again. He was relentless his mouth and his fingers driving her to orgasm as she quivered against his face her fingers desperately tangled in his dark curls. Camille felt herself shatter against him. Her legs quaking and turning to jelly she thought she might collapse.

Instead she found herself wrapped in Calum's strong arms as he picked her up and carried her over to sit on the edge of the sink. He held her face in his hands. “You're sure you want this” Calum asked.

Camille smiled blissfully never taking her eyes from his she took his hand and raised it to her mouth. She kissed the palm of his hand lightly which brought a soft smile to Calum's now swollen lips. Then while maintaining eye contact placed his fingers that had been inside her to lips and began to suck her own juices off of them. “Oh fuck me” Calum swore reaching for his wallet as Camille giggled.

“You won't be laughing in a second darling” Calum muttered putting on the condom. His mouth met hers again as he found her entrance wet and waiting for him. Snapping his hips he buried himself fully inside her making her hiss and throw her head back.

“Does that hurt” he asked.

“Yes but don't you dare stop” Camille panted in his ear.

Calum tried to set an easy pace as he took his time enjoying the feel of her around him.Camille squirmed impatiently making him grin.Until she clenched around him and grabbed the back of his neck.

“Fuck me hard Calum. Do it.” She whispered before kissing under his jaw right on the sensitive spot she'd found. Raking her teeth along it she knew she was leaving marks. Calum responded immediately. He leaned her back partly against the mirror. Grabbing her hip with one hand and her throat with the other he set a punishing rhythm. Camille couldn't help but squeeze around him every time he'd slam into her g spot causing them both to moan. Camille reached one hand down between her legs to rub circles on her clit the other caressing her own breasts. He'd never seen anything hotter. Calum could feel his orgasm building as he fucked Camille into oblivion.

“Are you close” he asked her.Camille just whimpered and nodded sending Calum into a frenzy.He watched her climax hit her. Her eyes screwed shut and his name tumbled from her lips again and again. Right as she hit her high her hips began to buck. Wrapping her legs tightly around his waist and he could feel her tremble around him. “Oh God what the fuck” it was too much and Calum's orgasm hit him harder and sooner than he expected. “Camille” he cried out her name as both a curse and a prayer.

Next Chapter All On My Mind

@biba3434 @vfdsstuff @babygirlcashton @toofadedtofight

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seitjun · 6 years

Text

hold me closely

title: hold me closely

pairing: bakudeku

rating/warnings: general audiences, just fluffy stuff and realizations. the usual.

summary:

Leave it to Bakugou Katsuki to overthink about feelings when he's sharing a bed with Deku, and only after it's been happening for the last few months.

(Or in which Katsuki thinks back about his feelings more seriously and realizes that maybe his crush isn't such a sudden thing.)

notes: for the @akogarezine contest! this is my first work for bkdk despite liking it for awhile, but this contest was the final push to motivate me aha. i got lucky enough to get 2 betas, so thank you to @simplyfx and @mimqan !! and also thank you to my friend who put up with me yelling abt this @hanzo-is-trans !!!

read on AO3 or below!

In the whole situation put together, Katsuki only knows four things:

Him and Deku – they’re sharing the same bed; they have been for the last couple of months even if it’s cramped and tiny, meant only for one normal sized person and not for two bulky heroes-in-training.

Deku’s body is a heavy, warm thing of muscles that’s almost reminiscent of a weighted blanket. The warmth makes Katsuki’s body sweat more, already having a naturally higher body temperature himself, but he can’t find it in himself to push the other away.

His arm is curled tight around Katsuki’s body, pushing their chests close together and their faces too. It’s almost dizzying how much contact they have between each other currently, and he thinks it’s clouding his mind because–

–Katsuki doesn’t hate it. He never did, but expressing something like enjoyment over sharing beds with Deku is difficult.

Enjoying anything with Deku and expressing it outwardly is still difficult even now, but he supposes old habits die hard.

If you had asked him three years ago, right when their friendship was toeing the line between salvageable and irredeemable, about him welcoming the warm weight that’s Deku lying by him, Katsuki would’ve have blown up the school and then some more. Younger Katsuki didn’t deal with quirkless losers, much less with lying ones, and to just entertain the thought of them being close in any form would’ve been an insult.

Even halfway through their second year, Katsuki wouldn’t have been inclined to believe anyone about him being this close to Deku no matter who it came from. Their friendship was on the mend by then, interactions becoming more like bickering driven by the new versions of themselves rather than actual arguments fueled by a tumultuous childhood dynamic. Him and Deku reaching equal grounds with each other meant a restart, an acknowledgment of each other – he didn’t know it’d be the precursor to what they are now.

Third year is the only feasible time Katsuki would’ve have taken the words for more than a simple prank, when it’s stopped being a question, a hypothetical situation, and started being a reality. It’s been three years of building each other up together in the wake of middle school destruction, of learning how to grow and overcome and respect – somewhere along the way, it had manifested on its own into a real sort of friendship, an unrelenting duo.

They’re two halves of one whole, individual but incomplete without the other; all their lives, they’ve been bound to each other in some sort of way, and it’s built up to this, the moment when Katsuki realizes that sharing the same, too tiny bed is just a metaphor for their future, isn’t it?

Katsuki can’t deny that Deku’s wriggled his way into the every single nook and cranny of his life – from their loud rivalries in everything academic, to domesticity in the dorm rooms with chores, and to the secrecy of a shared bed and close proximities. He’s not the type to do stuff he doesn’t want to, and inwardly, he can admit that he likes having Deku by his side, likes having him be close.

That he likes… Deku.

A pause.

He likes Deku.

It’s a jarring realization to stumble on after more years of turmoil than peace. It feels like a suckerpunch thrown at Katsuki’s gut at lightning speed, meant to send him doubling over in his mind and reeling backwards into his thoughts as another thing to overthink about.

It’s a hellish undertaking trying to relate the boy Katsuki had looked down on and hated so much for so long, to the boy that Katsuki lets snore peacefully next to him. Katsuki’s never even showed much interest in anyone before with his ambitions to become a hero, and for Deku to be the first to make Katsuki contemplate about their history, growth, and his feelings at one in the morning – it’s new, and Katsuki is staring down an enemy that he doesn’t know how to take down.

Like childhood, it fills him with the dread that makes him fear Deku for shifting his worldviews completely in nanoseconds, ruining foundations with his simple existence, while all Katsuki can do is hold on.

And he does hold on – but onto Deku.

Because if he thinks about it a little more, a little longer – he’s always hold onto Deku, hasn’t he? That’s how it’s been for most of their lives; they’d clung onto each other subconsciously, whether it had been out of hatred and bruising grips, out of rivalry to keep up with other in their personal race, or out of friendship and a mutual ambition unified finally.

He can’t imagine a day without him; what makes him think he can last a future? They’ve always kept near, pulled towards each other, magnetized and irrevocably so – from childhood to teenage years to toeing the lines of being adults, maybe their magnetism is one part rivalry, two parts connection.

Katsuki likes Deku.

The epiphany should make Katsuki experience whiplash, send his mind tossing and turning in the suddenness of it all, but instead he feels the loud drumming on his heart in his ears and the sweaty palms of a nervous man who’s already accepted his fate albeit terrified. His mind is a tangled mess with his realization, but the way his frame reacts betrays another story.

If he was a different person, maybe he would’ve realized long ago that what he felt was different from what he thought it was, that rivalry and friendship and something more aren’t mutually exclusive from each other.

He’s changed over the years, grown up to be a better version of himself than he was all those years ago – mentally and physically, but emotions and its nuances still elude him. Anything regarding Deku is still difficult, but it’s about Deku that he has the easiest time to accept a thought: he wants to win by Deku’s side.

It’s both an adrenaline rush and the drop down.

He almost spirals further down into his mess of a flustered mind, whirring at speeds faster than usual at 1 am in the morning instead of sleeping, when he feels movement against his body. He wonders if he accidentally moved while stuck in his trail of thoughts, but it’s too late to think back on when Deku’s blearily opening his eyes, and Katsuki’s focus is on him.

“Kacchan…? Why’re you still up?” Deku slurs out, voice riddled with sleepiness and confusion while he paws at his eyes to rid himself of the last dregs of sleep.

It’s a habit he’s had since forever, and it doesn’t surprise Katsuki that it’s followed Deku into his high school years. What does surprise Katsuki is that he’s too enamored by how surprisingly adorable it is; he wants to ask why he’s only noticing now, but he knows, and it makes his throat go dry.

It’s distracting enough to forget that Deku’s asked him a question, and for Deku to get the wrong idea, asking softly, “Is it not working anymore for you? Our cuddling thing?”

Katsuki’s silence is broken easily afterwards, a tiny growl escaping him to pair with the scowl on his face. “Shut up, it’s been working for months. ‘S just me thinking about shit,” he grumbles. He refuses to admit how the sound of Deku’s misplaced guilt grates on his nerves, how it makes Katsuki feel guilty himself. “And don’t call it that! We ain’t cuddling!”

The lame attempt at reassurance and the explosion of denial makes Deku go wide-eyed. But as quickly as it appears, it fades away into a soft look that sends Katsuki’s heart racing and more sweat building up on his palms. He hates both of the sensations, how it feels like he’s completely out of control, and only Deku knows how to command him.

“Okay. I was just making sure,” Deku explains, a tiny smile flitting on his lips as if he’s heard the best news ever in his life. It’s dumb – why the hell is he smiling like that? – but Katsuki is even dumber to think it looks cute. Deku looks away, staring down at the blanket he's fiddling with now. “I didn’t know if you wanted to keep doing this. I know it started off as a comfort thing after the villain almost got you, but it was really selfish on my part since I asked for myself. It’s a bit late to take back all those months, but if you want, I can–”

“If the next word that comes out of your mouth is leave, I’m going to kick your ass out to the atmosphere,” Katsuki interrupts, eyes narrowed as he flicks Deku’s forehead. “You know I don’t do shit that I don’t want to do.”

Deku sighs, a sheepish smile creeping up on his lips as he rubs the spot where Katsuki flicked him. “Sorry. I didn’t want you to feel obligated to do this. I...just needed to know you were alive and by my side,” he murmurs. “Make sure you fall asleep soon. We have classes tomorrow, and I know you get grumpy if you get less sleep than usual.”

Then Deku, the brave but dumbass bastard he is, kisses Katsuki’s forehead and stops his heart for a good second, stops his entire world.

It’s like an apocalypse but worse, aimed only at Katsuki and happening by too-soft lips that brings him resurgence rather than decay.

It's intentional too, nowhere close to being some sort of accident that could’ve been supported by Deku’s penchant for being affectionate when sleepy; where there should’ve been a shock or a stuttering mess of apologies Katsuki has to shut down, there’s instead a fond smile on Deku’s lips and a green gaze that’s twinkling in relieved amusement.

They might’ve grown since first year, but Katsuki can’t forget that the more things change, the more things stay the same – Deku’s still a little shit.

Deku laughs at the idiotic expression that must be playing on Katsuki’s face, his laughter quiet and whispery in the late night. His laughter is near Katsuki’s ear, blows out puffs of air that ripple across his skin, and in the barely lit room with their sides pressed close together, it feels so much more intimate.

It makes Katsuki’s heart surrender more than it already has; he feels like Deku already knows.

“Shut up,” Katsuki grumbles instead with pink cheeks, the realization still too fresh in his mind to say out loud. He’s not ready to admit a thing like that to Deku yet. “Just go back to sleep, I know I’m not the only one who turns into an ass with less sleep. I’ll fall asleep soon anyway.”

Deku takes a moment to ponder over the words, eyes intense on Katsuki as if to test the truth in his words. But eventually something lets up, because Deku’s pressing another kiss on Katsuki’s forehead before he wraps his warm body around Katsuki’s again. Tighter. Closer.

He won’t be sleeping soon, Katsuki sighs with a scowl. He easily blames it all on the boy next to him, but he can’t deny how his gaze softens, his fingers running through the unruly, green hair. He shuts his eyes and swallows the dryness in his throat, and he lets his mind wander until it and his heart cross paths in acceptance.

Until he’s ready, this is enough.

He admit that he likes rivalries with the nerd, comparing completed missions and counting the victory-losses between them; likes the sound of Deku’s laughter and the feeling of the kiss on his forehead; likes having him by his side, the knowledge of him clinging onto Katsuki as tightly as Katsuki does with him, when they share the same bed and then more.

Katsuki likes Deku.

#kiminiakogare #akogarezine #bnha #bakudeku #katsudeku #boku no hero academia #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #seiju writes

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anyu-blue · 6 years

Text

Personal

Mobile keep scrolling. Read more vv

Bug infestation fyi.

I'm starting to get really worried...

Living here has turned into an absolute nightmare... It's nice to see the sun and to be on the top floor and have that sort of freedom and all.. but the bedbugs... I can overlook the slightly unpleasant neighbors. The thin walls. The crumbling roof (my ceiling is starting to get really bad). The leaks and places other bugs like to get in. I'm sure our neighbors do the same... But these bugs.

I didn't actually realize how tenacious and TINY they are. A female can only lay one egg a day, but in the buggy would.. that's a lot. And there only needs to be one male and explosions are imminent. Can even be from an egg she just laid, they don't have problems with inbreeding. And while a female can only mate once a day.. a male can mate with all females in his area.

So even one... One tiny, itty bitty bug that's oh so hard to see, let alone feel... Could spell disaster for an entire complex. Because those big ones I've been squashing.. yeah.. they're actually really old comparatively.. and all the new ones that have and will hatch.. smaller than a pin head. I'm only lucky enough to know that thanks to the massively gruesome display in my room rn... There are dozens.. dozens of tiny tiny, so small you wouldn't see them unless you were looking, corpses or possibly carapaces on my pad. With all the powder I've put in there they've dehydrated and ended up stopping where they were looking for food... I hope. I hope they aren't carapaces. They don't look to have moved either way.. I keep checking.. I have pictures.. but millimeters are a lot bigger to them than they are to me.... But I also keep finding more. I thought I'd just missed them initially, but I put something clean down in there a week or two ago and moved it a few days ago only to discover about 6 Tiny little dots on top of it... And a much larger, live buggy under it.

The diatomaceous earth works to a degree and I'm so grateful... But it's obviously not full proof.

....

We need to move. Because Tevie and I can't afford this place on our own...

I mean I MAY have about $200 extra by the end of the month to go towards a deposit on a new place... If our mother doesn't drop the ball on us and refuse to pay rent like she threatened... Which she can't technically legally do because she has so much of her stuff here... But may try anyway and I'm still really angry about...

But even then.. even if I DO have the extra... I can't think of a single place that will take us... Because of the risk. I don't WANT to infest a new place... I'm going insane enough as it is knowing THIS wasn't our fault....

I'm riddled with bites. RIDDLED. And I keep finding more. We even keep powdering... Tevie keeps vacuuming... I keep washing (hot water hot dryer) And the number doesn't go down. It's actually gone up. I didn't realize how bad the back of my arms were until I caught myself in the mirror today.

My legs. My feet. My back, belly, neck, shoulders, FINGERS (those ones suck). These are the ones I just happen to spot.. because they're red and puffy, but only for a maximum of 2 days before they disappear on me... And they've started itching... Due to the sheer number I may be developing the allergy.. or it's probably psychological which also isn't fun.

Who would WANT to take us in?

Even if we find someone.. which I am seriously starting to doubt... We have to get rid of so much... Tevie is distraught... Because she doesn't want to lose her bed.. or the body pillows I saved up to give her as gifts to help her sleep a few years ago... Every time I try to talk about moving she tells me to stop. To shut up... Because if we manage it.. it's going to be so hard. We're losing so much.. and we don't even HAVE that much...

I'm also worried that if we move someplace and some how manage to avoid transporting.... we're not going to be looked kindly on for sleeping/eating/spending so much time on the floor.. the couch where I'm sleeping now, the chair that goes with it, all the beds... All the pads... At least half our pillows. Blankets (especially comforters).. many clothes and our few storage thingys ( specificly ones with too small crevices).. any large/unwashable stuffed animals we still have... It all has to go. There's no way we can guarantee they'll be bug free... I'm honestly terrified I'm going to have to give up my Scooby too... My comfort blanket..

What will a landlord or property manager think when they come to check on us or if we need something repaired?

Most of the furniture we are using isn't ours anyway.. it's our mom's. Lucky me.. we've completely fallen out. There goes the kitchen stuff. Washer. Dryer.

I mean it FEELS bad enough... But for some reason people really judge hard too. We wouldn't be able to to have anyone over because of all we'll lose, and poor Tevie is even more upset because of that too. We will be lucky to have my TV and our games/stations maybe... But not right away because they will need full proof decontamination.. heavy cleaning and freezing if it won't kill them (ie any electronics).. if we can borrow a freezer or have one available to us.

I have already given Tevie my promise that no matter what, she doesn't have to sleep on the floor.. that she can have my hammock since it has made my old injury act up (mostly because I suck at sleeping correctly so I hurt myself unintentionally. Another reason I really miss having a bed.) But it makes her feel worse knowing she'll be taking it from me after I fought so hard for it (it's an old guilt thing having to deal with how she was kept in place specificly). But it's something we can clean and take with us with little danger.. I hope.

I just... UGH what do I do?

If we had.. gods.. idk.. if we had a $1000 gift even... We could manage to start over... to break our lease and throw 95% of stuff out... It would be no less painful, but we could get some cheap dressers or something brand new for storage.. air mattresses or cheap frames and pads for places to sleep.. a large freezer to salvage some clothes and blankets and anything that will survive a deep freeze, plus a place for food storage all in one.. or just a small, cheap new wardrobe if nothing else. Like $50-$75 each... Money for the cost of moving ourselves.. and a deposit, first month's rent.. just a start... Until we could start to save something. Anything.. to get whatever else we may need then want.

But then even a gift of $1000 would also devaste us rn..

Due to the reporting laws, After taxes, it would push us over the minimum income for a family of 2 per month and I'd lose my health insurance (means no meds). We could be turned away from housing due to having too much in the bank... Why are poor people not allowed to have savings anymore? Why is so much demanded up front when the reason people are going into programs is because they DON'T have it??

We could NOT report it.. and then potentially get fined for fraud...

Ugh... A lot of this is worst case scenario stuff... And I could have some things wrong here... But it's what's on my mind... And the very real possibility of living out of a car here in the near future.. if I'm even allowed to keep it. If I'm not... I lose my job, which everyone already knows... My dad will take Tevie and me in in a heartbeat.. but I can't risk infesting his or anyone he gets to help's house. He and our friends can't afford it any more than we can. None of them can.. there's already 7 of my family members living in that 3 bedroom house for Pete's sake... I'd sooner opt to throw ALL my stuff away, even the clothes on my back...

I can't tell what it's going to be yet. How far it all will go.. I just know it's going to be so incredibly difficult no matter what.

...

Slightly unrelated rant here..

Meanwhile my mom doesn't have to worry about a (crumbling) roof over her head because her bf's parents own his place from what I understand. While they may struggle like us to put food on the table here and there, she never has to fear homelessness. She has a bed, a dresser, plenty of furniture, space to be herself, support.. even a bf who wants to give her MORE of all of the above.

... She's also allowed up here with access to everything anytime (I've asked for a heads up of when she does want to be here only so I can be out of her way, but that's too disrespectful of me because she pays her portion of the rent, so she's never here)... And so is never high and dry or fearful... And so feels like it wouldn't be a terrible move to just drop this place and us altogether. To take what she wants and/or needs and leave without fear.

Tevie and I are on the brink of losing everything... And she just doesn't care. I'm still angry about that too. About her lies in caring about us.. because she clearly doesn't. She doesn't HAVE to go through this with us and has chosen not to. And I don't think there's anything I CAN do about that either. I wouldn't want to go through this either.. I mean I REALLY don't want to be going through it right now.. but I, for one, have refused to abandon my sister. My job. My pet. And my hobbies (for now).. which means keeping my clothes (work has dress code).. mandatory decent night's rests.. fighting the infestation/dealing with bites... Working on moving/losing stuff all by myself... It's exhausting.. and I'm terrified.. but I can't just run away from it... (Especially cuz I got no monies to do so).. I'm mad because she CAN.. perhaps, actually, jealous is a better word than mad... because I understand. As twisted and backwards as her logic is in a lot of places.. self preservation is pretty smart technically.. and dropping all of this does mean less stress for her which is important to life...

*sigh*... I think I will need to ask for help soon... I'm the thinker.. and I am struggling to think my way through this.

I'm struggling to find a way to remain or even BECOME independent like I want to be... ESPECIALLY Because of these bugs... If we could just move.. if there were no bed bugs. If the only obstacle was getting a place we could afford and moving Into that place.. we could do it... But losing near everything in order to do it... To have to rebuild so much.... (Beds.. heck FURNITURE is expensive)... I don't think we can do that.. not alone.

Not that, hey, a table is ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY.. nor are chairs (posture can be worked on and upheld without those)... Nor are many pillows and blankets. One should do a person each... In Montana Winters it can get difficult.. but it's easily possible to sleep in sweaters and layers and stuff... Keep your head propped up carefully and it may be possible to avoid getting colds and back aches from sleeping on the floor too. And cats.. well they do need perches.. that bit IS important.. but they will gladly curl up next to you and in clothes to keep warm

Maybe I am overthinking... Maybe it's a GOOD thing to get rid of pretty much everything... I mean.. we don't NEED all of it... It's just nice.. don't need a dresser or books or a lot of clothes or a bed, really... We're human. We're animals... We're the only ones who have 'need' of these comforts and convieniences I'm so sad to lose... A nest is nice, but shelter is more important.. as is food.

Maybe... Maybe I can track down a 1 bedroom place we can afford instead of looking for a 2 bedroom and getting pegged with double the ridiculous prices... I mean.. without having living room stuff... The living room is just a room, right? It's technically my bedroom right now even... any kept TVs and electronics don't need to be off the floor if they're not plugged in...

... why am I freaking out exactly?

Well I certainly don't want to track in any bedbugs to a new place... That is valid... But the rest of it.. the rest of it does seem rather silly. I don't need to keep nearly as much as I want to. ... I suppose my biggest challenge now may be is working with Tevie to see this and be okay with it too...

Yay 3am second-wind ^^

#personal #random #ignore me #life in general #negative #bedbugs #bed bugs #no like being all itchy #but what ca ya do?#so tired...#but ive beem stressing a lot lately #and cut myself off from talking about it so i dont upset Tevie #but knowing my dad is always here for me.. it has been helping so much #realizing id be okay without anything i couldn't carry if i had to move in #with him... has helped me realize im probably being silly about my stuff #no one wants our porcelain dolls.. so i moght just throw all mine away tomorrow #as a start... it would be safer anyway because their boxes coild have buggies #in there or an egg stuck to them we can't see.#I'm certainly not putting those boxes into a freezer #they're too cumbersome #my grandmother is going to be PISSED.. but maybe she'll understand #our circumstances... or at least my mental state #maybe...

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lethe-distillery-blog · 5 years

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Penumbra, Part One

It was a dark and stormy night, the winds so strong that my shutters clattered noisily in their frames, trying to be helpful and cover the sounds of me sneaking out of bed and pulling on my shoes and coat. I supposed I should be grateful for its assistance as I stepped out into the lashing rain, it came from all around, there was no way to stay dry, just do your best. The howl of the wind sounded far too much like a far off scream as it whipped through the winding alleys of Berlin.I did my best to appear small and nothing noteworthy as I ducked from shadow to shadow. My cloak, freshly waxed, kept out the worst of the weather, though I wouldn’t be able to answer honestly if it was rain or the cold sweat of fear that made my shirt cling to my chest.I swiped loose strands of hair that dripped water into my eyes, darted a furtive glance around at my surroundings before ducking into an ally. The darkness brought on by the shabby buildings and night bringing visibility down to zero. I slowly started my journey, reminded a passage, “For I shall walk through the valley of shadow and death and I shall fear no evil.”The wind picking up to a shrieking sound of protest and panic. It all seemed strangely poetic,from an outside observance, this dark and stormy night. After all, it would just be weird if it were a calm, clear, beautiful day. It just doesn’t seem the right sort of atmosphere to summon a demon.

I picked my path slowly, taking great care to avoid both the known, and the unknown, pitfalls that lay spread out before me. I couldn’t help but consider that those that claim that they can travel some place with their eyes closed as stupid or naive. I dared their attempt. I was having enough issues with nothing but jarring flashes of lightning that did little more that disorient me. It was terribly slow going. Though in small favors, the tabby that had been here last week was gone, or seeking shelter; thing had more sense that I if that were the case.

Finally. I made my way towards the doors of the familiar warehouse looming before me. Smashed out windows gaping open like empty sockets of some sort of giant spider with the great rusted cranes creating long spindly legs that climbed towards the sky at odd angles. The lock at the door had been undone with the chain hitched in such a way as to appear locked but was ajar just enough for me to slip behind another entering shadow. We both removed out hoods and she handed me a towel to dry my hair as best as I could and greeted me. “Evionne.” I smiled at Stella, watching her young face relaxing as I did so and I gave the girl a quick hug after we had both hung up our coats. I felt her shivering and I squeezed a little tighter, offering what little comfort I could in such a dire situation. “I’m scared.” I was impressed she admitted that, most wouldn’t but I always felt that honesty would do you far better than trying to be brave and instead doing something stupid.

I took the moment to give her a gentle squeeze before pulling back and smiling at this woman who had quickly went from stranger, to friend, to confidant and sister. She deserved the truth from me too. “So am I.”I was impressed my voice didn’t shake much, “And I am glad you’re here.” Not that I didn’t trust the others but I knew Stella well, and so we could compensate for each other easily.I gave her shoulders a tender squeeze before we turned towards the flickering light at the end of a shabby dark hallway. Together we started towards it. It felt that though we both had been avoiding even looking at it that together, with her cool clammy hand in mine, we might have a chance at this.

Bernice was there with Adel and High Mother Marie, all of us dressed in our traditional long and unflattering black dresses that made our outlines hard to discern as we faded in and out of the candlelight’s shadow. The High Mother was only discerned by a ceremonial cloak held with a silver triple moon clasp, our personal symbol. As by the light of the moon we gather and in her likeness we change and yet we remain a constant.A beautiful broach was pinned to her right shoulder. The piece changed hues depending on lights and angles, here, from where I stood it seemed to go through a spectrum of greens before darkening into blues, though I had seen it hold purples within its depths as well. It was a fascinating piece but since I was still a relatively new member to The Sisters of the Moon by comparison I didn’t figure it was my place to ask. Though Stella and I had discussed it more than once when she came over for tea.

She and I had become fast friends out of circle upon meeting at a ritual about three years ago. Marie, I had found out, was a school teacher at one of the local middle schools, Bernice was a baker, and I had yet to find Adel in the public world but given her carriage and bearing I took her to be a housewife, much like Stella and I.The one person I was shocked to see with our group was Aria Prokott, eldest daughter of Adolf Prokott, reverend of the Lutheran Church. I had seen her at service more than once with her father, mother, and siblings.And if she was surprised to see a Christian Witch I was far more startled to see her here, and dressed in lingerie no less.

It was sedate, for being lingerie, and hung off her slightly, as though a little too large on a body that was just now coming into womanhood. Nineteen. Only six years my junior and yet we felt worlds apart. She clutched a robe about herself, stubbornly hanging onto her dignity and facing her fears with a courage twice that of many men I had seen that had gone off to fight Russia or Britain.I had no doubt she felt naked and exposed, but it was some small mercy tat only women would be here to see her in such unorthodox accessories.She looked small. Bony joints that had yet to round, long limbs that had yet to fill out. And yet she stood, defiant and proud in her task. If there was something to behold, it was her, wearing nothing but deep red scraps of cloth and a white cotton robe. Stella squeezed my hand, she got it too. If there was one woman that deserved to be afraid, petrified even it was Aria. But instead, she shamed us by going towards her sacrificial slaughter with dignity and pride, though her frequent scanning of the room told me she was not nearly as composed as she wanted to pretend she was.I went over and gave her a hug, Stella following suit. “Are you okay?”It was a stupid question to ask but, I needed something, even if it was selfish reassurance.

She nodded, though even in the glow of candlelight she looked pale. “Marie said that I’ll be completely safe.” She lifted her foot in indication and my gaze dropped to the twined hemp rope that was bound about her ankle. “So then I can cross the threshold and be safe.” I nodded. We had gone over this in great detail to make sure Aria was fine.

“Yes, Marie will anoint it so then it becomes ignored by the circle and pulls you from being trapped within the circle to being able to leave.”

She swallowed hard. Won’t I be able to leave?” She sounded frightened and I took her hand to calm her, Stella taking the other.

“Yes, you will always be able to leave, but if you did without wearing that tie you would shatter the circle, leaving whatever was in it with you free to roam without being bound to a contract.”

“That sounds,” she thought for a moment, trying to think of a suitable word but shrugged helplessly, “bad.”

I nodded, trying to interject some humor as I smiled at the poor girl, “Worse than the twins on a sugar high.” She shivered in mock horror but I could tell from the smile she gave me that she was pleased I had done my best to break the tension, or at least parts of it. Only so much tension breaking that could possibly be done with a razor wire circle not twenty feet away, not to mention incense so thick it hung in the air like fog, it was an aura alright. All we needed to add to the witchy attire was a cauldron and broomsticks. Thankfully, cauldrons were used for cocoa and brooms, so far as I had been able to tell, were still just used for sweeping.So far as I still knew anyways.

Marie came over, Bernice and Adel following behind and we all smiled wanly at each other. This was it. “Well,” Marie’s tone was dry as a loud crash of thunder shook the building slightly and sent dust motes floating like diamond shards in the faint light. “I imagine that the weather could choose to be worse.” I didn’t want to know how, the cold and I didn’t really get along. Maybe she meant snow. Yeah, that would just make everything so much more pleasant. “Did you two ladies bring what we needed?” I handed over my container of blood that I had salvaged from the pig my husband had butchered on Thursday, not the freshest but it should work and Stella brought out a piece of her Circle famous Black Forest Cake. I practically drooled at the sight of it, she had a knack for baking, and since I was her friend I also qualified as official taste tester. A title I took quite seriously. “Good, very good.”She had a kind smile, gentle, one would never guess that this school teacher was in face a powerful witch who in fact was going to summon something so vile she wouldn’t even tell us much about the creature.She looked at Aria. “Are you ready?”

An ancient being with a name lost to history, twisted and vile he was only known now by what he left behind.

Marie took the robe and folding it before she set it aside with great ceremony when Aria nodded her acceptance and stripped out of it, we walked with her slowly towards the circle. It felt as though we were walking her towards her wedding affirmation, not towards something that could destroy her if anything went wrong.Fifteen feet in diameter, it barely fit within the room, the razor wire glinted maliciously in the flickering light. It was twined through with copper and silver wire giving it an odd serpentine effect as it lay sprawled out on the floor with sigils, runes, and other markings etched into the surface. Symbols of power, of binding, every aspect well thought out and planned for. We had come up with things that we thought would bind, for magic was only as powerful as you felt it was. There were semiprecious stones that were designed to leech away negative energies, rainbows glittering like gossamer thread from hanging crystals. It was an eclectic assortment, but it would hold. It had to. There were no second chances if this didn’t work.

The tension was thick as we all prepared our part, our specifically designed chant, calling for the aid of Luna, our moon goddess, and her protection against what we had to do. What we needed to do.I shivered, thinking that the grand finale of what had become our greatest embarrassment had come down to this. But here, now, with his attentions divided, his strength weakened as the general public began to turn on him. Here, now, was our chance to strike and to bring peace to the world, and by God Above, we were going to take it. I prayed to him too, as we took our positions, each at the tip of a pentagram, the center pentagon was sunk into the earth and Marie had smeared the blood through the trench, inside was a precise stretch of black kyanite, onyx, rose quartz, and pyrite. The air turned pungent as Marie lit a smudge of asafoetida and clove, the noxious fumes overwhelming the pleasantly burned sage and byrony, a stray draft blasted me in the face with the thick cloud and I coughed hard enough to see stars but I waved the others off and struggled to my feet and remembering to breathe through my mouth. Gods, it was awful. It felt like a perpetual tickle in the back of my throat but I needed to not delay the ceremony, I knew that magic was down to believing in it, the stronger you believed, the better it would work.

Sure, anyone could cast magic, and they did. A woman that baked love and adoration into her cooking would always taste better and instill a better feeling than someone who had done it resentfully and in spite. A man that believed in the old folk and left gifts for them always seemed to have his food last a little longer. Small things that science couldn’t always explain and yet, they happened. Our magic was like that, only on a much grander scale, but the dynamics were the same. There was belief we were touched by a god, or perhaps we were the far gone generation of demon spawn, I personally liked to believe that our Luna and God saw what we were doing and blessed our efforts with their own, the very thought of being anywhere near related to the monster that we were going to summon made my skin crawl.

Marie stepped towards Aria bearing aloft a tiara of boxwood, blackberry, rowan and ivy for her protection because though we were tempting the creature with her, there was no way that we would ever let her come to actual harm. The long rope twined through the winding labyrinth of stones, razor wire, tree branches and smoldering herbs. Nothing had been spared for this occasion, I am sure that poor Ernst was beginning to wonder what I was doing with our very limited funds. Thankfully, I was able to keep him plied with enough of Stella’s cake to make sure he didn’t notice the missing Deutschmarks, but I had spent nearly a month’s rent on my portion of this, and I knew that the others hadn’t skimped either. Aria, in fact, had skimmed some money from tithe, I felt awful about that but Aria had said that it would be the work of God, and so, it had passed, I merely hoped that the good father above understood.

I looked down at my watch, eleven fifty. It was time to start soon. I looked to Marie, awaiting the signal. Many weeks had gone into practice, I was terrified to even breathe, everything needed to be synchronized, not a misspoken word, not a cough, not a hiccup, nothing. Marie raised her hand, halting us and I relaxed slightly. Instead she spoke alone, her voice a beautiful sound in the shabby room. A singer’s voice, warm, loving, and full of humanity. “Queen Mab, Mother of Ice and Darkness, I beseech thee to hold to thine word to me. I hold here,” I watched in awe as she removed her broach and held it high, the magical powers in the room escalating with every spoken word, “the boon in which I am owed. I seek thy council, I seek thy assistance in my self appointed task.”

I stared in awe as the broach lifted into the air, slowly spun, catching the glint of the dozens of candles before slowly it simply melted into nothing but mist. The voice that spoke was not unkind, but nor was it warm like any human voice would be. “To what boon do you seek favor?” The creature that came out of the darkness was human, and yet not. Too symmetrical. Too beautiful. Though not quite human, the limbs were too long bending in a gracefully awkward way with each movement and with pointed teeth that flashed in the light, a dress that would rival any noble, hair that was snow white that was piled upon her head in a regal status I had no doubt to her title. The head barely moved to take in all that was around her, disregarding it as quickly as one would simply ignore a child’s play toys. Instead she focused on Marie, our High Mother, a woman that seemed to spend time talking with the old ones, the Fey Folk. I swallowed hard. There was an air of coolness around the woman, making the air shimmer slightly, she held the aura of barely leashed chaos. An animal held within human skin, the terrifying beauty of the winter storm. She held herself regally, but I would not doubt that those long teeth would sink into the throat of someone just as easily as they could smile.

“I seek to summon the nameless one, he who must not be named.”

The only cue to a reaction from the creature that stood before her was the slightest flicker in the eye and the merest tilt of the head, so slight that I thought it was the waving light that created the sense, perhaps I wanted to see a reaction, to know that this creature too feared what we were about to call here, that she too knew the monster in which we were trusting our fates. I looked over to Aria and Stella, both seem horrifically entranced with the being too, we all stared. Only Bernice seemed anywhere at ease as she watched the woman with idle and wary curiosity. Those two, I knew, were also friends, perhaps Bernice knew of her friends, extracurricular, escapades? “You think this will stop him?”

“I think it is the best chance we have.”

The woman followed the hemp rope that twined around the post by Marie and worked it’s way back to Aria before turning back to Marie. “And what boon do you ask for?” The tone was modulated, carefully controlled. Not giving anything away.

“I simply ask that you infuse me with your power when I summon him, I worry that he may not hear us, or worse, ignore us. I think he would dare not offer such a slight to you.” Marie’s tone was confident and sure, though I hoped she was at least concerned about the creature before her. No doubt. Rude or not. When this was all done, I had questions, and I hoped she would answer them. “Is that an acceptable exchange?”

The woman nodded after a long moment, and blew a cloud of white vapor to surround Marie in an opaque shimmer, her smile a cool feral thing. “Careful you do not get yourself killed, I enjoy watching your foolhardy attempts at making the world right.” With that parting, the creature simply vanished. There was no transition, no fade to black, nothing. The only cue to her existence was the haze that slowly slid of Marie. I looked at my watch, three minutes to midnight, the witching hour. I felt cold sweat slide down my spine. Stella went to speak but Bernice shook her head in a gesture that clearly stated, ‘later.’

Aria was standing, though shaking, her ivory skin glistening wetly in the candlelight, her long dark hair sparkling the deep rainbow hues of crow wings. She looked beautiful, the very essence of the virgin sacrifice, offered up to the darkest life form that I had ever heard spoken. A creature that toppled entire civilizations, that had been since the dawn of time. The bullet that killed the Archduke Ferdinand, tipping point of the Spartan and Trojan war, the whisper in Cain’s ear. He made creatures like Nero, Vlad the Impaler, Ivan the Terrible, or even Genghis Khan pale to nothing more than shadows. He was not the creature that fought wars, he had no business or care to the cost of them, he simply started them, instigated them, simply watched the chaos and when the moment finally built to a precipice, he tipped the scale and laughed as the whole thing collapsed under the weight of itself. And here, now, we were only feeding his insatiability, his hunger for chaos and his need to prey. Because our Fuhrer had done something, none of us were sure what, but we knew he was no longer human, or if he was, he was simply a puppet. Gone was the venerated leader that had swept a nation of poverty, gone was the admired bachelor of the common woman of Germany. Now, what was in his place, was a sociopath, an inconclusive vacillating war general that was now getting thousands of men and women killed for nothing more than an egotistical power trip. And we, six women strong, intended to bring about the end, whether his demise, or his removal from power no longer mattered.

I looked down to my watch one more time and Bernice nodded and we spoke with the first chime of the great bell of the catholic church.

“Lady Orb of the Night

Our Goddess Luna

Look upon this sacred rite.

We ask of you to thus endow,

The protection form your opal brow,

Watch over your children as we toil,

From the creature not of this soil.

Let it not break,

Nor tear,

Nor maim.

I ask of this here, in your name.”

The winds whipped around the room, my dress lashing at my ankles and hair twisting itself into knots as it buffeted about my face. The candles sputtering and guttering, the smoke thickening and solidifying into a solid circle wall, floor to ceiling. The gaseous shape slowly resolving itself into what appeared to be frosted glass. Aria, the poor girl, was on her back, backed into what would essentially be called a corner; eyes wide with fright, and she looked to be hyperventilating. She was shaking, and I desperately wanted to comfort her, to be there with her and sooth her in some possible way. But soon, Marie’s voice rang loud and true over the din, the chaos of the wind and the crashing of thunder outside, lightning rending the dark sky beyond. It was a dark and stormy night, and she spoke but a single word, a trademark and testament, a horrifying promise of what came in the wake of such a creature. The Shrieking.

“Kreischen.”

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