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curly-bangtan · 4 years

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A Drop of Heaven IV: Unravelling

[Series Masterlist]

Pairing: ot7 x reader // this chapter: Yoongi x reader, Seokjin x reader

Series summary: Seven vampires have secretly been roaming the darks of your world for millennia. Each brother selects a Feed who becomes supernaturally bound to him, whose blood will be fed on until their inevitable mortal death. They have spent their eternity hunting for the exorbitant rarity that is angel blood - the most heavenly of food for vampires that fuel them with desire, lust and satiety. So what happens when they all find you, the first angel-blooded being they’ve encountered in two centuries?

Genre: vampire au, poly au, smut, angst, enemies to lovers (e2l)

Warnings in this chapter: mentions of blood drinking, depression and suicidal thoughts, slightly gruesome, probably a lot of confusion, plot heavy chapter

Word count: 11.1k

A/N: I’m not sure if it’s just me but I feel like my writing style for this series has kind of shifted, so apologies if you don’t like the change. Thank you for being so patient with this update, I know it took forever, but I hope it was worth the wait! ❤︎

[prelude, i, ii, iii, iv, v, vi, vii, epilogue]

❦

They say that humans are immensely adaptable creatures. In the face of a drastic change, when thrust into a foreign environment, we possess a biological plasticity that allows us to mould into our novelle surroundings, no matter how alien. All for the purpose of survival. Humans are resilient. Humans survive.

You have survived, and you keep on surviving.

A week has passed. Almost in a flash, yet also agonisingly slowly. But in your memory, all the feeding has merged into a blur. Every time a pair of fangs sink into you, you’ve come to switch off your mind completely. You don’t recall where your consciousness has travelled to, you just remember floating in a cold darkness. Stagnant. Void.

On Thursday, broken and hanging on by a thread, you were tossed to Hoseok. The flash of craze in his eyes, despite your gaping wounds that took longer to heal than it should have, even after drinking Yoongi’s blood, managed to instill a droplet of fear in you. But only just.

Because after Yoongi, you no longer know fear.

Still, Hoseok’s insanity is something you’ve never seen before, a wildness exacerbated by the centuries he has lived.

Hoseok looks at you like a brand new toy. When he touches you, you can feel the tremble of excitement beneath his skin. Sometimes, you wonder if he is the worst one of them all, even worse than Yoongi. Because you at least know what the others are thinking. With Hoseok, he speaks to you as if you’ve been acquainted for years, asks how you fare as if he doesn’t know of your suffering. He smiles at you like he means it, and you know he is genuinely happy to see you, but not for the reason you hope for.

“You seem sad…” He had said, staring at you intently as he brushes the sweat-dampened hair out of your face. “Yoongi hurt you?”

Your eyes were transfixed on one spot of the colourful wallpaper of his Feed Room. Your head barely nodded.

You didn’t see his mouth quirk up in amusement, but you could sense it. Hoseok was prodding you, like a zoo animal. Testing your temperament, seeing how broken you are. And you were too tired, too drained to put on a show like the circus monkey he wanted.

“No worries, Y/N, it won’t hurt with me, I promise.” The ghost of his lips traced your shoulder. “We will have so much fun together.” His long fingers prickle your thighs as he pulls you onto his lap. “Just relax and smile for me.”

It had hurt, at least very briefly before you could shut it out. Out of everyone, Hoseok has the least control. He never knows when to stop. Though he wasn’t bleeding you dry just yet, it visibly took him his entire mental strength to cease his drinking. And once he stopped, he began laughing maniacally.

“Sweet Satan, we’re in for a ride.” He kissed around the puncture wound at your collarbone where blood was weeping out of you. You didn’t move or make a sound.

The sire bond hadn’t surfaced at all. But it didn’t need to in order for you to ignore the pain; you’ve grown so accustomed to it by now that you hardly even blink, sire bond or no. You’re afraid of yourself, the lifeless husk you’re becoming.

The scariest aspect of Hoseok is perhaps how quickly he changes his mood after feeding. His ability to act as if he hadn’t just ripped into you, taking your around the house and telling you stories of his adventurous life while you eat, is uncanny. And when you fail to put on a smile for him, because how could you, his eyes would darken, jaw tighten.

“Isn’t that just hilarious? Can you believe I did that back then?” He would ask, and you’re not sure why your entertainment brings him validation.

But for self-preservation, you have learnt to giggle like you’re enjoying yourself and say cheerily, “I know right! That sounds wild!”

And Hoseok would nod madly, giddy from your approval, acting blind to your ingenuity as if he hadn’t forced the response he wanted out of you.

That was your Thursday.

Jimin was a salve, a soothing balm over your hidden wounds.

You no longer care whether his affection towards you is genuine. Beggars can’t be choosers, you’ll take any kindness where it is doled. It’s funny because, amidst suffering, amidst torture, you are able to resist the floods of tears that should be completely justified in your predicament. Yet as soon as someone shows the remotest care towards you, you feel the ocean pushing against your brick walls, threatening to rupture the dam.

It wretched your heart how tender Jimin was with you. You had almost broken down in his arms when he brushed over the skin where Yoongi and Hoseok had torn into. Your wounds are invisible. Vampire blood hides your cuts under fresh new skin, but doesn’t truly heal them. Yet Jimin had managed to sense your scars nonetheless.

He kissed them softly. You knew he wanted to kiss your mouth too, yet he didn’t. Is this what respect feels like?

Thus, you were completely willing when he fed on you. His preferred feeding spot is the inside of your thighs. When his cold breath arrived there, you could have sworn you felt something flutter in your core.

You had wanted him. You’re embarrassed to admit but you want him. Completely on your own accord, as the sire bond had also failed to lock in place with him too. You wondered if it was the damage Yoongi had done…

But then Saturday came, and the moment Taehyung’s fangs touched your flesh, you were swept away.

At first, it felt like drowning, as you struggled against the formidable waves that would not let you resurface. But then you calmed, a serenity took hold of you, and you began floating in the most soothing, clear blue water. The water healed you, almost, as you just drifted there on your back, watching the star-splatted night sky.

Taehyung swam up beside you, those sharp fangs of his never withdrawn, a wolfish yet reassuring smile, telling you it’s okay, everything will be okay, I can make you feel good.

And he did make you feel good.

The one thing you crave the most in this world is affection, you’ve come to learn. With Yoongi, you had wanted to feel something so badly, something other the numb wreckage of your mind you had trapped yourself in. Except he had made you feel worse, worthless, self-loathing just like him. With Hoseok, you were a broken doll, smile when expected to, laughing when required. You weren’t a person. With Jimin, you had been too grateful for his tenderness to function, unable to comprehend how, for once in the longest time, someone is treating you as if they care about you.

With Taehyung, you grew desperate to cling onto this intimacy.

It was like a drug, flooding your mind with peace and euphoria, drinking him in as much as he is drinking you. His kisses felt unhealthily good, and they tricked you into thinking that you’re worthy of someone like Taehyung, someone so beautiful, so intoxicating. He fucked you like he was making love to you, but also not. It came as waves - his sweetness, then his ferality.

You couldn’t get enough of it. You know it’s no good to feel so attached, when he probably sees you as no more than an object, his meal, but you couldn’t help it. You were just so desperate for that feeling of being desired.

He promised to make you feel good, make you forget, and that he did.

You hadn’t known what to expect from Jungkook. As you sat, waiting, on the bed of his Feed Room on Sunday, you pondered Jin’s words of his past.

He was a bright star once, before this curse. And even after, he had fed on humans once. The curiosity gnawed at your brain, pleading to find out what had happened.

Jungkook never showed up.

And so you slept the day and night away, replenishing your health with soup that Seokjin delivered, until you woke up and the cycle continued once more.

You watch the round dewdrop roll off the viridescent green leaf, and splatter onto the cold white tile. The greenhouse has soon become one of your favourite places to pass time. The walls of that manor are suffocating.

The faint sound of a piano whispers into your ears. You shut your eyes, appreciating the beauty of the pieces as it plays flawlessly. You wonder who is pouring out their emotions to the ebony and ivory sisters.

The glass of the greenhouse is fogged by the dawn dew, shielding you from the world outside and those who wish to take from you. Almost smiling, you pace around the kingdom of plants, enjoying the tranquility. Today is Thursday; Hoseok allows you to do as you please after he feeds on you; though it could be of his genuine good intent, you suspect it’s to instill you with a false sense of freedom. Let the dog out of its cage, let her roam their land, so the bitch never seeks to leave the house.

The thought of escaping had crossed your mind a profusion of occurrences the past week. Though, at this very moment, you don’t think there is much purpose in leaving anymore. Here, you at least are provided food and shelter, and maybe one or two friends whose friendship comes with a price. It’s not living in here, you’re merely surviving. But you’re surviving nonetheless. Compared to out there, where you’d be left to fend for yourself, constantly fleeing from seven vampires who you’re eternally bonded to.

You’ve thought about killing yourself too. A coward’s way out, but hey, you’d rather be a coward than a blood bag for the rest of your life. But when you had snuck into the kitchen last night after Yoongi’s heartless torment and raised a knife to your chest, an invisible force had pushed against your arms, freezing them in place and preventing them from taking action.

The sireship is so cruel. It humanises the vampires who captured you, makes you empathise with them, and forbids you from harming yourself.

On deeper thought, you wouldn’t have been able to kill yourself that way anyway. The moment your blood is spilled, in a house full of vampires, at least one of them is bound to smell it right away. They would have healed you before the pain could kick in - their way of sweeping everything under the rug nowadays - and you would’ve been back to the start. Except worse, as they would then know of your intention.

You crouch down beside a rose bush, petting its velvet white petals between your fingers. Flowers are beautiful yet fickles things, but roses have thorns. They lure people in with their beauty, but if anyone tries to pluck them off and keep one for themselves, they get cut. Your fingers travel down its stem to where a thorn is staring enticingly back at you.

You push the pad of your finger into its prick, hard. You don’t feel a thing. Not even as a bead of crimson oozes from the cut. It’s chilling.

Then you sense a presence behind you. When you turn, your eyes meet with those of Namjoon. Watering pot in one hand, he watches you, brows furrowed at your previous act.

“What are you doing?” There’s a hesitancy in his voice, almost as if he doesn’t recognise you.

“Admiring the roses.”

You no longer speak to Namjoon in that defying tone of yours. He was right, there’s no use in challenging him, trying to topple his superiority complex. It only took a week to tame you into a docile creature. You’re ashamed.

“No, I mean why did you purposely touch the thorns like that?” Still frowning, he stomps over, water in his gardening can sloshing about. As he sinks down beside you, his air of intimidation infiltrates your peaceful bubble.

“I… I don’t know, I just wanted to know what it feels like.” You mumble. Setting the pot aside, Namjoon snatches your finger and brings it close to his face for examination.

“Well, it was obviously going to cut you.” He hisses. When his nostrils flare, you know the scent of your blood is vastly tempting him.

“I know.” You pull your finger away, not that you don’t trust his self control, but because his touch was beginning to scald. The bond was trying to take hold of you despite it not being the day where you belong to him, and you hate how drawn you are to him because of it.

Spinning away, you stand and begin pacing towards the door. Your moment of peace has been disturbed, there’s no point in staying here anymore. But then you hear him call after you, “W-Wait.” The vulnerable expression that greets you when you look back takes you by surprise. “Um… You spend an awful lot of time in here nowadays… How come?”

You hadn’t been aware that Namjoon notices your growing presence in the greenhouse, not since you have never come across him here before. “I like it in here, I feel safe. Why, am I not allowed?” Your question lacks the challenging impudence it should have, more like a young girl asking her father for permission. You’re disappointed in yourself at how quickly you’ve deflated, even at the obnoxious Namjoon. Yet, you’ve lost your drive at standing your ground, you’ve got no fight left.

“N-No!” He is quick to dispute, standing up from his crouch as well. “I just meant… Nevermind.” His voice trails weakly to a tense silence. You watch his eyes flicker up at yours rather nervously, trying to decipher his intention. Then he speaks again, “I’ve just seen you here quite a few times… I enjoy being here myself; I find tending to my plants right before the sun rises fully a therapeutic pastime.”

His admission strikes you. You would never imagine a man as demanding, efficient and severe as Namjoon to enjoy a hobby as mundane as gardening. You’re not sure what to make of it to be honest, nor can you understand why he’s speaking to you so… conversationally. Is this his attempt at making peace with you?

“Well, you’ve tended to them very well, they’re beautiful. I enjoy being here too.” You guess you should accept his decency. He had been rather distant on Monday, leaving you to your own devices, only feeding on you once and hardly speaking a word. His contrasting moods are confusing.

Namjoon’s lips purse, brows raise ever so slightly, as if surprised by your kind response. His eyes flicker to your finger again. The tiny cut has yet to dry, fresh blood still leaking from the open wound despite its miniscule size. You should probably have some food; your body is frail, especially after Yoongi yesterday.

“I’m going to leave you to it, sir.” You nod courteously, but freeze as the name you address him as slips out of you. No, it was drawn out of you from the bond. It doesn’t take a second for heat to rush to your face in embarrassment. Namjoon noticeably stiffens. Gulps.

The coil within you is starting to wind. It tightens around your chest like thorned vines, piercing into your heart the more you try to wriggle free.

You know he feels it too.

But before he can take a step towards you, as you sense he intends to, you’re turning around and speeding out of the greenhouse. And it’s not until you’re within the confines of Hoseok’s Feed Room that you feel the liberty to breathe again, Namjoon’s sire bond reluctantly waning into the background.

You could tell something was off about Hoseok straight away when he entered the room. There were multiple telltale signs.

One: He was stumbling over his feet, tripping over to the bed in a drunken manner as he navigated the room. His words were slurred, hardly coherent sentences at all. His wine red hair in disarray.

Two: He smelled noticeably different. Though you’ve not spent more than two days as his feed, Hoseok has a clear distinct smell, most notable from the other vampires. He smells clean, sweet even; it’s the one thing you can’t help but indulge in about him. Yet even to your human nose, he had a weird, doggish musk to him as he approached you.

Three: From his rogue smile dribbled drying blood. And no, it wasn’t a mere droplet of crimson, he was drenched in blood, chin to toes. Despite the gore you’ve witnessed, it was still a chilling sight.

And four: Though his eyes were half shut, you briefly saw the way they flashed beneath his lids. Only half conscious, the other half gone and crazed, though full of purpose - purpose to get to you.

You catch him in open arms as he falls onto you, the mattress dipping at the sudden crash of his weight. “Hoseok, what happened?” Your voice harbours more concern than you would like to show, and you don’t know why you care at all.

His face presses against the crook of your neck, his lips stretching into a smile at your presence, right over your pulse. His hands wander to your waist, pulling you into his embrace. You recoil from his forwardness, but with nowhere to back away to except further into the bed. You try to ignore how pleasant the tip of his nose feels as it rubs against your skin.

“Missed you…” Hoseok mumbles, still grinning widely, mouth travelling to your jaw where his warm breath tickles. His breath should be cold; the heat tells you that the feeding of whoever’s blood this was recent.

You can’t help but feel flustered at his sudden touchiness. Of all vampires here, save for Jungkook, you would say you’ve been the least… intimate with Hoseok. It has never been your dynamic. It was always him flinging you around like a puppy shredding its new stuffed toy then chewing on the spilled cotton. So this is… new.

“Why are you acting like this?” You ask again, trying to pry his arms off your torso but to no avail.

“Sweetness…” He mutters unintelligibly, and you shudder as his teeth grazes your ear, an involuntarily sensual tingle following.

“H-Hoseok…” Your breath hitches, his proximity growing more and more unignorable. So you grab his face, cheeks cupped in one hand, and shake him for good measure. His closing lids flash open like gradually awakening from slumber, yet still not recovered from his daze. “What happened to you?”

“Werewolves.”

An icy cold settles in your bones. Werewolves. There are such things as werewolves as well. Vampires, witches and werewolves. What other creatures of horror are plaguing your world that you don’t know of? That explains that muttish stench he carries. The blood he’s soaked in… Is it his or theirs? You think you feel slightly sick.

Brushing his hair out of his face, you point his drooping head at you again. “Tell me what happened.”

“Those stupid mutts… picking a fight… Taehyung, Jungkook and I had to put them in their place.” Hoseok begins peeling himself off you, and finally your body is no longer crushed under his. Your hands around him fall to your side idly as you watch him stumble off the bed and head towards the door, though he doesn’t make it two steps before tumbling onto his knees. You hurry after him to catch his upper body before he falls completely onto the ground.

His shoulders in your grip, you try to examine him for any wounds, and though there are some tears in his clothes, the skin underneath has been healed clean. So why? “Hoseok, look at me.” Your voice is urgent, authoritative, it almost has the life it once had to it. His eyes lock onto yours, this time permanently without closing. They’re blank, the amber green murky with an unreadable shroud. “What’s wrong with you? You need to tell me.”

So with obvious effort, he grunts out, “Werewolf blood makes us… It’s like… wine to us. Too much and our mind is” hiccup “inebriated.”

Oh. You let out a sigh of relief.

Hoseok is drunk on werewolf blood.

Though, you’re not sure why you’re relieved that he’s alright. Surely you should be wishing for the opposite.

With tremendous endeavour, you drag him up onto his feet and walk him to the ensuite bathroom, huffing as you sit him down on the edge of the lavish bathtub that every Feed bathroom contains but you have yet to use. Hoseok is uncooperative, trying for detours on the bed, attempting to hop onto the sink. With the knowledge of his intoxicated state now, he appears like a little child, an innocently fascinated smile constantly plastered on his face, too easily impressed by even his own reflection in the mirror. For you, it’s a contrasting sight. Though he has always possessed a child-like temperament in his playfulness and love to goof at silly things, his usual underlying insanity is nowhere to be found right now.

It makes his company more soothing knowing that his mind absolves of any ulterior motive.

You don’t know why you’ve taken it upon you to do so, but you rummage around to find a clean towel. Glancing at the mirror as you twist the faucet to dampen the towel, you try not to notice how you scarcely recognise yourself anymore.

Hoseok groans at the wet coldness you press onto his chin, the dried crusted blood once again watering into a river of rusty brown-red. His fingers fly up to catch yours, trying to pry the scrubbing towel off his face. “Mmmm.” He whines in protest, shut eyes frowning. You ignore his brewing tantrum, towel travelling down to absorb the red stains of his neck, though you clean with more gentleness now.

He isn’t so bad like this, you guess.

Still, the more you try to understand him, the more you lose yourself in the maze that is his psyche. The more you think you can predict him, the more he comes out with an unexpected complexity that adds another layer to his mask. Who is Hoseok? The entertainer, the mood maker, always seeking to please his guests? The little boy who wishes not to be tamed? The spoilt brat whose greed grows with the more he has? Who is he really?

You straighten and regard his state. Head drooping sluggishly, fingers fidgeting at anything in his reach, you realise a cold towel isn’t going to help him. You’re all too familiar from the nights your uncle stumbled back, the reek of alcohol finding you before he enters the room, to know that this state of inebriation needs to be conquered before he falls asleep, lest you wish to face an ill-tempered brute the next day.

“Hoseok.” You tap his jaw lightly, rousing him, and he looks at you with surprising focus that makes you cower a little. “You should shower.”

He blinks sleepily, and you think he doesn’t comprehend at first, but then he takes your hand in his and stands up. As he does, his face zooms dangerously close to yours, pointy tip of his nose a hair’s breadth away from brushing your lips. Your heart jumps. There’s a lag in your brain before you know to step back.

“Come with me, then.”

It’s evident that his whole demeanour has shifted. Gone is the childish giddiness he had. In its place: a solemn gravity, seemingly out of nowhere, his lips pressed into a taut line, jaw tense, a pinning glare possessing you unwaveringly. Even his voice has dropped deeper, forgoing its tangy cheer.

It takes more than a second for what he means to sink in. He wants you to join his shower.

“W-What? No!” You yank your hand from his, heat blooming across your cheeks.

At this point, you’re no prude, intimacy has been breached with several if not most of these vampires you share a roof with. Yet your dynamic and circumstance with each of them differs greatly. With Yoongi, it is a release of mutual resentment; Taehyung, it’s a seductive dance to pleasure you both; Namjoon, a reluctant magnetisation that you wish not to dwell on; Seokjin, a confusion of emotions and desperation; Jimin, a soft gentle healing. There has always been a sexual implication hinting at the back of your mind with these five, and with some, you’ve acted upon it. But never with Hoseok.

Because Hoseok has been too much of an enigma. Never once showing that type of attraction towards you, only a fascination that sits on the borderline of lunacy. Always just - ogling at you like you’re a show pony, marveling at the taste of your blood as if it’s a drug. And the confusion he inoculates when he acts as your friend, like he genuinely enjoys your company. Too baffling.

But right now, this very evening, something stirs in your stomach. A new sensation as another layer of him is peeled back to reveal yet another persona. A man desiring affection?

He looks at you for a while, as if he wants to say something. The absence of the smile that usually stalks his lips every moment of the day is throwing you off. You think he’s going to push further but he doesn’t, he simply tilts his head and says, “Suit yourself, sweetheart.”

Legs still rather wobbly, he makes his way, hand on the gold marble of the sink to balance his wavering weight, towards the shower. Standing there, stupefied at his sudden change, you don’t realise that he does not intend on waiting for you to leave before striping until he tears his blood-drenched shirt off crudely. Buttons fly towards the wall, scattering about in little clinks.

Faint scar-like marks dart across his back like a violent painting.

You’re transfixed. The light lines are not ridged, merely running smoothly on the surface of his skin. Some look like claw marks, some bite marks seemingly from an animal. Those werewolves he mentioned? Some look fresh, while others older.

But that doesn’t make sense. Why does he, a vampire with supernatural healing, have scars?

“So do you want to join or not?” He slurs, face half turned towards you, yet eyes trained low. His profile is striking.

“I- No. Um. I’m going to bed. Bye.” Your eyes immediately fall to the ground. Still incredibly flustered, you spin around and head back to your room, mentally trying to shake off the image of his scar-inflicted back.

At the door, you pause, back still facing him, and ask, “Will you be fine alone?”

You hear the whirl of his belt being pulled out, blood continuing to roar in your ears.

“I’ve been alone all these centuries - I think I’ll be fine.”

That’s not what you meant, but when you hear his zipper, you hurry to shut the door behind you, pondering the sourness of his reply.

His shower is quick, the water sounds stop not too long after you climb into bed. Though, Hoseok stays in the bathroom for a period of time before coming out. You debated going in to check in on him incase he has fallen unconscious or something of that sort, whatever werewolf blood does to vampires. But you weren’t sure if he would be dressed, so you stay tucked under the covers in a small huddle, quietly trying to dissect his character in your head.

The door eventually opens, though it doesn’t swing open as Hoseok normally does to announce his entry. He’s still in that odd sombre mood.

Lying on your side, curled up into a small lump, your back is facing him. Eyes shut yet wide awake, you hear a drop of water hit the floor every few seconds. You can’t resist the urge to look up, to see whether he has washed away the blood and intoxication.

But at the sight of his naked body, manhood only covered by the towel hanging loosely around his waist, you nearly roll off. Though his skin is mostly dry, there is still a lustre glossed over his unearthly sculpted body. The room is dark, his silhouette cast by the bathroom lights behind him. Despite the poor vision, you are mesmerised by the ridges of his abdomen, chiseled so perfectly that you wonder how they feel like beneath your touch. A defined V is carved on his pelvis, pointing down to a devilish place you’re glad the darkness doesn’t allow you to see.

You catch sight of his hand that is bunching up the towel loosen, just in time for you to swing back down into your foetal position away from him before you hear the cloth drop carelessly.

Is he purposely trying to tizzy you?

Your eyes close firmly as he paces to the dresser, and they stay that firmly closed while you hear him dress, hear the bathroom lights click off.

You jolt when you feel the pressure on the other side of that mattress, your knees curling up tighter, inconspicuously inching further away. To your relief, as he climbs into bed, he keeps his distance, doesn’t reach for you like you were scared he would.

The silence hums loudly, rhythmed by his shallow breaths. Is he finally sober?

No sound. Not a word. For Hoseok, that’s worrying.

Damn yourself, why do you care? “Are you feeling better?” You almost bite your tongue as you ask, cursing your inability to keep to yourself. At least you don’t turn to face him.

Silence, still. Steady breaths.

You begin to wonder if he fell asleep the second his back sunk onto the mattress. It wouldn’t be a surprise.

But then you hear the lightest sigh. “Feeling less drunk, but head still pounding. Dizzy.”

You’re unaccustomed to the deepness of his voice, wondering where its usual loud annoying cheeriness has strayed off to. You don’t want to say you miss it, you certainly don’t. You just… grew so used to it.

This version of Hoseok is too human. It’s uncanny.

Despite laying there in silence, it doesn’t feel silent at all. The tension is blaringly loud in the air, almost a physical pressure pushing up against you, goading you to do something. Turn around and face him. Let him feed on you to replenish. But no, he’s fed a lot today already. Your collar still feels sore. Find another vampire and ask them to cure him. But at this time of day, where the sun is already almost completely uncovered, they should all be asleep. Then at least talk to him, something, before he resumes back to his normal self that you have to cower from.

“What are those scars on your back?”

Your voice startles him. Though you can’t see well, you notice him jolt. Was that too much to ask? Too personal? And honestly, do you actually want to know the truth to your question or would you sleep much sounder without it?

He doesn’t answer.

Instant regret. You count your breaths, shut your eyes and try not to be hyper-aware of short the distance of an arm’s length actually is between your back and his side.

You shouldn’t have asked that. Of course it would be a sensitive topic. What else could explain the literal scars on his back that have failed to heal even with his supernatural abilities?

There is a line drawn between you and Hoseok. There are boundaries, though some particularly vague and hazy, between you and each vampire, but the line is especially distinct with him. You have to remember, you can’t act the same as you do with Seokjin or Taehyung with someone like Hoseok or Yoongi. He’s not your friend. None of them are your friends, really. Hoseok, one of the least of all.

Who knows what psychological trigger you’ve switched on by asking such question? Curiosity did kill the cat afterall.

“They…” It’s your turn to jounce, his response unexpected. “I don’t know, I guess there’s a limit to what my abilities can heal, and to be honest, I like the look of them anyway. I think there’s a word for it, but my mind isn’t working properly… M-something. Ma- You know, the opposite of sadism.”

You know.

“Masochism…?”

“Yeah, that. Masochism.”

The room goes quiet after he mutters the last syllable of a word you would never anticipate to be his answer. Hoseok is a masochist? He enjoys pain inflicted onto him? If it were even possible for your blood to go colder, you feel a chill spear through your veins.

Fuck, these vampires are dark. And you thought you were morbid…

“Why…?” So Hoseok is at the opposite of the spectrum from Yoongi. You vaguely understand Yoongi, how he lashes out due to self hatred. It’s a cycle of pushing people away due to fear of intimacy from his loneliness, and as a result feeling more alone. He likes to inflict pain because that way, he can convince himself that he’s an unlovable monster, and pretend that he is choosing to be alone. But with Hoseok, you cannot fathom how or why he enjoys pain. How could anyone? “If you don’t mind me asking…”

You’re tempted to turn, eye contact is human nature, but you don’t think you can stomach it. There is an inexplicable weight, an intensity bestowed. You feel as though you’re sinking in quicksand, a slow agonising submergence, swallowed up by the burden you’re seeking to know about but can’t resist.

“It’s so boring, living like this.” He mumbles. You hear him rustle around to get comfortable, or maybe to inch closer to you. “We’ve been alive for more than two thousand years. Life begins to get rather insipid, nothing really... stimulates me anymore. Yeah, fight with demons, get wasted on werewolf blood, sure, pretty fun.” Hiccup. “But after so many years, you start to not really feel anything anymore.”

Truthfully, you think you get it. You get his inertia, the lack of anything exciting him about life.

“Like yeah, I know how you see me. I’m this over-the-top, dramatic class clown caricature, so you probably won’t believe me when I tell you about how bored I actually am. But I am.” hiccup

“So pain is your remedy?”

“I guess, yeah, pain is my remedy. You know that feeling when your skin gets cut, that rush of cold that infiltrates you?” Unfortunately, all too well. “It’s pretty exciting. There’s no feeling like it.” hiccup “It’s just so refreshing, to be able to feel somewhat mortal. Get torn apart a little, because I know I’ll stitch back up together anyway. It’s the only thing that brings me thrill nowadays. Before we found you.”

“What if you don’t?” Vampires are immortal, but not invincible afterall.

“Then I guess I don’t.”

Hoseok says it with a finality, as if death is no big ordeal to him. If it happens, it happens. He’s not self-destructive perse, you know he isn’t actively looking to die. He just wants to feel something. Like you.

Yeah, you think you get it…

Despite the difference in the sufferings you’ve been exposed to, monotony breeds insensitivity to most stimulants of life. Food tastes blander, colours duller, sense of self starts to ebb away. Hoseok had been a cheerful man before becoming a vampire, one requiring extravaganza in his life, flamboyance, because his life was a show, the embodiment of entertainment. How long did that take to crumble? For him to grow out of parties and parades because he realised that they could no longer fill that void?

The fall from a life of exhilaration to one where you were only passing time is tragic. He puts on a show to convince himself that he’s having fun, imposes it on everyone around him.

You’re beginning to dissect the animus of Hoseok, what truly underlies his insanity.

It’s disconcerting, how much he’s opening up when he isn’t sober. He has kept this in for a while, you can guess.

“Hey…” He slurs sleepily, though you hear his purpose, a sort of determination to stay away and say one last thing. And finally, you turn.

In this darkness, you hardly see a thing more than the shadows cast around him. You can’t see his facial expression, and you think it’s perhaps a good thing; you don’t wish for it to confuse you more. What throws you off is the heat emitted from his body. Vampires are cold creatures, warmth absent in their touch. You try not to think about the werewolf blood still coursing through his veins to keep him warm, how it makes it feel as though a human lays beside you rather than the monster in actuality.

“Yes?”

Your reply falls flat. As your vision adjusts to the pitch black, you are hyper aware of the stillness of the night that encases you.

“I…”

He.

It’s silent. So silent you can hear the thrumming of your chest.

“Yes?” You repeat, egging him on. His hesitancy has a depressive tone to it, it is somehow so genuine, rather than for dramatic effect like one would expect from him.

“I’m sorry.”

Those two words shoot into you like bullets of chaos and disarray, their shells ricocheting. Your ear rings as if deafened by an explosion. Maybe this is a dream. You can’t tell these days anymore.

“I’m sorry for everything.” He sounds throaty, still dragging his words as he tries to grapple at sobriety but fails. He also sounds like he means what he’s saying, like he feels terribly guilty.

You don’t understand.

“What do you mean… Why…?” Your eyes drop to the distance between you, fixing on the shadow of a crease you can barely make out.

“I’m just-” Hoseok tosses onto his side to look at you. You stare at that shadow harder. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“But wh-”

“Every time I look at you, I just want to, I don’t know, shake you. No, not you. Shake myself, or my brothers. I want to shatter some glass, sprint at a wall, I don’t know. I don’t fucking know what I’m saying. But yeah, every time I look at you, I just feel so fucking bad, man. I’ve- I guess I’ve been pretty good at keeping the guilt at bay all these centuries - we kind of have to, or we wouldn’t have survived two thousand years. But like, when I look at you, I can’t forget how much you’ve suffered. That kind of damage scars you forever. I can fucking see that you’re a shell of a person.”

Your throat constricts. You hate this feeling. Not that people have ever pitied you before, seeing as there was no witness of your uncle’s abuse, there was no one to feel sorry for you. But right now, you get it. That wash of humiliation from the small satisfaction you gain from someone pitying you, someone acknowledging how bad you have it, all the shit you’ve been through. It makes you sick.

Yes, you’re damaged. Good that he knows. Good that it tears apart his conscience. You’re glad that it makes him feel horrible.

Then why? You want to ask him. But you know he’s not finished with his piece.

“I see that you try to hide how fucking empty you are when you’re with me, try to act like you’re enjoying my company and actually find my jokes funny. I guess that’s why I keep trying to make you laugh. I know I’m annoying as fuck. Hell, I would hate me if I were anyone but me. But, I don’t know, I just want to stir some reaction from you, make you feel less hollow. I know it fucking sucks for you here, and I want to make it suck less, you know?”

A shiver fires down your spine. You have never thought about it like that.

Drunk words, sober thoughts. Or so the saying goes.

All this time, you thought that Hoseok views you as some sort of dancing monkey, forcing you to perform tricks for him, smiling, laughing, stroking his ego.

But the truth is, he wants to spark some life back into you. His jokes, his stories, his antics. They have been for you, not him.

Your throat trembles.

“All that shit with your uncle, God, it was brutal, even for me. It was the fact that you couldn’t escape from it. You were living through hell for how many years? All because of us. And now you’re stuck here with us, have to continue to endure. It just doesn’t stop for you, does it? And I know it makes no sense coming from me. Especially from me, I guess. You know, I really wish I could control myself. But that sensation that overtakes our minds, I wish I could describe it to you, it’s fucking insane. Your blood tastes like a drug to me, I don’t know, heroin or something. Except it doesn’t kill me, it kills you.” His voice is drifting, quieter, duller, slower. Like he’s mumbling without knowing he’s speaking out loud. The words just keep tumbling out.

Glancing up, you see that his eyes are shut, chest rising heavily, on the brink of sleep. You want him to fall asleep. You don’t want to keep listening. Because it sickens you knowing that buried under all those masks is an emotionally empathetic person, hardly the maniac you thought him to be. Because it would be so much easier if he was that, so much easier to hate your tormentor and see him as a monster.

But actually, he isn’t. He senses your pain, holds remorse for his actions.

You hate it. You hate it.

Just let me believe that you’re pyschopathic.

“Anyway... what I was saying is that…” His head droops to the other side. Sleep will siege him soon, you’re glad to know. “I know I’m a hypocrite. Namjoon would give me hell if he heard me sympathising with the Feed, but I truly mean no malicious intent towards you... This is just the way things are for us…” His breathing slows, deepens. Words only just more than a slur of syllables. You lay there, clutching your fists, waiting for it to be over, but only for you to lie awake and ponder this revelation for hours. “I wish… I wish it didn’t have to be you... after all that you went through. But I guess you only went through that because of what you are… Hurting you was the only way to protect you...”

You don’t even hear it at first, silently contemplating his words. But then the last bit sinks in.

“Wait, wait, what?” You break your silence. Hoseok has stopped making sense, you shouldn’t expect more from a drunken vampire, but he had been making sense before. “What do you mean?”

“What do I mean what?” He mumbles and rolls away, but you grab his sleeve and prevent him from turning and entering a realm of dreams.

“What you said in the end. About how… I don’t know... I went through that shit because of what I am. What do you mean? And hurting me was the only way to protect me.” Your blood has gone icy. You don’t want to be left with nothing but those words and your endless imagination of what they could possibly mean for the next few hours.

“You know, the spell…”

Spell.

“What spell?” But his eyes are completely closed, hardly a stir at your question to indicate he heard you at all. His sleeve bunches up under your fist, you gently rattle his face. “Hoseok, what spell? What are you talking about?”

He tries to shake you off, frowning in annoyance at your disturbance. “You know. That spell, the one to keep you safe.”

“Keep talking about the spell, Hoseok. Please. Safe from what?” You continue to shake him, stomach tying into knots. What spell?

“Safe from us, whatever Creatures of the Night your blood attracts.” Vexed, he grabs your wrist, eyes half opening, and shoves them away. “The spell the angels put, remember?”

“I don’t remember. Tell me about the spell, what was it?” You hear the urgency, the degrading desperation in your voice, but you need to know. You need to. What fucking spell to keep you safe?

“It’s complicated. Some twisted magic? You know that car accident with your parents? That was some Hell’s magic, when the demons started to find you... Angel blood isn’t just valued by vampires. They would’ve taken you if the angels hadn’t been watching closely and intervened. Then they, the angels I mean, decided to shield your aura, you know, your angel aura. The thing that lets the supernatural know that you have angel blood? It’s a distinctive scent for us, and I’m guessing other creatures too. It attracts demons and whatnots and helps them hunt you. It’s like a beacon of light. So they had to suppress your aura. And the only way to suppress angel aura is to suppress the angel themselves. Make them suffer, endure tremendous pain, dull their virtues, make them lose the will to live, et cetera. That way you don’t ‘shine’ anymore, and we won’t be able to find you. So I guess they did some sort of spell, or whatever heavenly magic, on your uncle so that his mind was warped and unconsciously fixated on hurting you... It’s fucking dark and twisted, especially for angels... To protect you from demons by making you suffer so much that you lose the core of your being. To destroy you in order to save you from hell and the creatures from it. That’s what irks me... Don’t know why but it just makes me feel so fucking bad…”

Something churns violently in your stomach. And you would have thrown up if you had eaten much previously.

None of it makes sense. Or maybe it’s starting to make too much sense.

You can’t believe it. You fucking can’t believe it.

You let Hoseok drift off to sleep, the weight of his body falling limp. You let go of his face.

You just can’t. Fucking. Believe it.

There’s no way this is true. He’s drunk. He has made up some story in his head. There’s no way.

Because there’s simply no way that the past few years of your endless torture has been a gift from the angels, a path paved for you to endure. To shield you. To save you.

In what sick universe…

You scramble off the bed and rush into the bathroom, ignoring the loud pads of your feet against the cold wooden floor. Your fingers tremble as you turn the light switch on and slam the door behind you with your back. For a moment, all you hear is the ocean of your roaring blood.

That’s why that night your parent died had felt so strange, so off, your disagreement with your parents so out of the blue. That’s why there was a storm. That’s why a car drove into you and killed your parents. That’s why your grandmother died so shortly after despite normally having great health. That’s why there was a sudden change in your uncle’s demeanour, as if a switch had been flipped in him. That’s why he had locked you in the basement, broke your legs routinely to stop you from escaping, beat you and your sister without reason.

It was demons and Creatures of the Night and a so-called “protection” ploy from angels.

You want to scream. As your back slides down the door, you want to scream at the top of your lungs. The amalgamation of emotions is tearing you apart, piece by piece.

This is it, the tipping point, the loss of your sanity.

His words play over and over again in your head, a drunken confession that he probably did not realise the meaning of in his state.

To protect you from demons by making you suffer so much that you lose the core of your being. To destroy you in order to save you from hell and the creatures from it. To protect you from demons by making you suffer so much that you lose the core of your being. To destroy you in order to save you from hell and the creatures from it. To protect you from demons by making you suffer so much that you lose the core of your being. To destroy you in order to save you from hell and the creatures from it.

Like a prayer.

Panting hysterically, you feel your mind shattering into a million shards. You can’t comprehend it. You don’t want to. You don’t want to know that the pain you felt, day after day, for what felt like an eternity had been a plot. A fucking spell. You don’t want to know. You don’t want to. You don’t want. You don’t. You.

You. Can’t. Do. This.

01:01. The crash. The beatings. The death of your sister.

It’s possible that you are crying, shaking, but you’re not aware.

And after crumbling on the bathroom floor, for minutes, maybe hours, you make your decision.

You run.

The sun is still out.

That means they can’t come out yet. They can’t come after you. They’re probably still asleep, unbeknownst of your escape.

The house had been eerily quiet as you snuck out. And as soon as you stepped foot outside the front door, you had felt it.

The incredible weight holding you down. Like the manor itself was shackled to your ankles. Walking away felt like trudging through mud, dragging this boggling heaviness with you. Every sire bond that has formed was shrieking in your head, wailing, begging for you to stop leaving.

It was purely your willpower and determination that gave you the strength to overcome the supernatural ties that tethered you to those vampires. You had to ignore how much your limbs were aching, how much your heart was straining. You just had to run away. Keep going and don’t look back. It was melting your brain into a puddle, but your mind had been in ruins anyway.

You didn’t know where you were going, the forest faced every side of the house, but you just kept going, as far from them as possible. If you ran down one direction, you were bound to meet an end at some point, find civilisation.

There is no plan. No plan as you fled the walls of those wretched vampires. You just knew you couldn’t stay, couldn’t continue living like that with the knowledge that was spilled onto you. There’s no way you could have pretend not to know and face those vampires, let them drain your blood when they had been part of the reason behind all your suffering.

Fuck the Heavens and the Hells. Fuck the angels, the demons, the vampires, werewolves, witches, all the damnable fucking supernatural.

Angel blood in your veins. A fucking curse.

Every bone in your body is starting to hurt, lungs growing weaker every gasping breath. You keep running, ignoring the overbearing ache and faint voices in your head chanting sorrysorrysorry.

Sorry, child, we’re sorry.

The sun has set. It is dark. And you are still running through the forest, no inkling at all of how far you’ve gone and how far is left until you find your rescuer.

The night is eerie, enveloping you in a fog of oblivion, no perception of anything beyond this forest. Howling can be heard from a distance, or what you hope to be a distance. You’re hanging on by a thread, but only just. You don’t know how much longer you will last, you just know that you’ve passed the point of no return now. They would have been searching for you since the daylight began to dwindle. They are on their way.

There had been so many instances where you had just stopped, panting, and stared at your own two feet, wondering what the fuck you’re doing. Because where are you running to? Who is going to believe you when you tell them about the fucking vampires looking for you? Who is going to care about some crazy girl?

What is the point in running? Living, even?

But an instinct within you, the one sparked by this revelation, didn’t allow your legs to stop. The whole world is against you. The whole fucking world. Creatures of the Night are hunting you, the angels have abandoned you to a cruel spell, your family is rotting six feet under. No one is going to fight for you, except yourself.

You are a survivor.

Energy waning from the lack of food and the sparing gulps of water you had salvaged from a brooke, the only thing fuelling you is your adrenaline. At this time of night, your vision is no more than dark silhouettes of trees and rocks. Your limbs are numb. The only thing telling you that you haven’t stopped moving is the constant crunch of leaves beneath your feet, crisply ringing. Keep going. Just keep running.

Where are you?

You hear a voice, his voice. No, you don’t hear it, you sense it. You feel his worry, his fear.

Where did you go? Please.

They can’t possibly be near. Even with vampire speed, there’s no way that can catch up with you so quickly when you’ve been gone for hours.

Please.

The pleading makes your heart lurch. You stop, heaving over your knees.

Guilt. It’s the guilt. Why do you feel guilty for leaving? No, you don’t feel guilty, the bond is making you feel it. It’s trying to manipulate you.

I can’t lose you…

But that’s definitely his voice, his inner thoughts. Seokjin is afraid, panicked, in a frenzy to look for you. Genuine concern.

Maybe you should go back. What are you even doing anyway? Where are you going? There’s no purpose.

It also dawns on you that they will pick up on your scent right away. Even if they don’t find you tonight, everywhere you go, they will find you eventually. They had found you even though your aura had been muffled by your uncle’s abuse. They somehow found you. They are always going to find you.

Maybe you should give up. Just submit to them for the rest of your eternity. Either way, you would be suffering, the angels will see to that. Just give up.

Your fists tighten on your knees. It’s freezing cold; your clothes shredded by sharp grappling branches, the midnight breeze percolates pass the futile material and assails your skin. Thoughts racing at an uninterpretable speed, your lost purpose becomes blaringly apparent.

It’s not so bad in there.

Please be okay. Please come back. Don’t go.

They kind of care about you, in their own warped sense of what caring is. Right? They almost love you, some of them. Right? Right? Right? Right? Right?

I miss you. I’m coming for you. I love you.

Right?

Please be okay.

“SHUT UP!” You sob out loud. In the distance, your outburst scare away a flock of sleeping birds, their wings flapping in synchrony to your heartbeat. “Please just shut up.” As tears erupt like a dam, your slam your hands to your ears to shield you from the sound. But of course, it doesn’t stop. It isn’t a sound. It’s a feeling. It’s the sire bond telling your mind his emotions. “Shut up. Stop making this harder for me. Shut up.”

Falling onto your knees, you simply break. Every fibre of your mind is peeling away, your entity flaking into dust. The cold stings your damp cheeks, trickling down to your neck where you remember so vividly the feeling of their fangs.

They almost love you, some of them.

That’s good enough, right?

That’s better than… nothing.

More birds shriek into the silence of the night, so loud that you hear them clearly despite your covered ears.

Are they here? Already?

You keep crying, soil eating your crumpled frame.

And because of your sobs, your firmly shut eyes, your covered ears, you don’t hear the footsteps approach you until you sense a looming presence behind.

Here.

Which one is it?

Slowly, every inch of you trembling, you turn.

A shocked man stares at you in wide eyes. Some sort of camper or hiker judging by his attire.

Not here.

“Oh my god. Please help me. Please help me.” You crawl over to his feet, ignoring the protest of your exhaustion and your pitiful position. “Sir, please help.” Your luck has turned. Finally. You’re going to be okay. Finally. The tears fall harder.

“W-what happened? Are you hurt? Lost?” Gradually processing the dirt covered girl collapsed and crying at his feet, the man bends down and examines you in concern.

“Yes, please, just take me somewhere safe. Please, they’re going to find me.” The wash of relief almost overwhelms you to unconsciousness.

“You need to tell me what happened, little girl. You’re in shock. Who’s going to find you?”

In the dark, you can’t see well, but something in his eyes makes you trusting of him. It’s the genuine worry and care. What a normal man is supposed to look like. You’re saved. You’re finally saved.

“We have no time, just take me… take me to the police.” Your shaking hand grips at his fleece in desperation. You don’t know what you can tell him or the police, you don’t know anything more powerful than vampires than can protect you from them, but you can think about that later. You just need to go now.

“Okay, okay. Let me carry you.”

No. Child, no.

This time, it isn’t Seokjin’s voice. Someone else, like that faint chanting you occasionally hear.

“Thank you.” You shift into a position that better enables the man to reach under your legs. Behind him, you see a pack of black dogs, creeping warily towards you, sniffing. “Are those your dogs?”

“Yes, don’t worry, they are clever boys.”

When his palm touches the underside of your thigh, ice pierces into your skin.

No. Not him. Not safe.

You know that ice. You know that inhuman lack of body heat.

As he hoists you up, you nudge him away and roll back onto the ground. “Wait.” Moonlight illuminating part of his face, you survey his pale skin, his devilishly good looks. His brows pinch in confusion, but there’s a twinkle in his eye.

Not human.

You glance over at the dogs again. Sleek black coat, long sharp ears, crimson eyes. Where their legs should meet the ground are misty shadows, like ghosts.

Not dogs.

The man’s lips quirk up. His camper’s attire dissipates like dust to reveal a black suit underneath.

You run.

Twigs snap beneath your feet as you sprint as fast as your calves allow, away from whatever they are. Your chest aches from fatigue, ankles screaming for you to stop. As you run, you ignore the branches reaching out to scratch your cheek, your arms. You hardly even feel the cuts against the twisting feeling of dread in your gut.

Angel blood isn’t just valued by vampires.

Looking back, you see the man stood rooted where he is. He isn’t coming after you, but the smirk he wears is enough to tell you not to stop. But not long later, you realise why he isn’t chasing.

Growls, howls of excitement, absolute beastly noises erupt from left and right. The hounds are running at an astounding speed beside you, their pelts pitch black despite the moonlight that they should reflect. Jaws open, they pant at you wildly as they hunt you. Zigzagging between the trees to create a misleading path, you try to create as much distance from them as possible. But they’re quick things. Clever boys.

Soon, they are narrowing in on you, until the pack is an arrowhead surrounding you. The closest hound snaps his jaw at your ankle, barely missing you. The loud crunch from the collision of its canines as he shuts his jaw, you know your foot would have been gone if you had been one second slower. You don’t have time to yelp. You focus on running ahead, slipping between boulders and following your instinct for directions.

Where are you? You hear Seokjin once again.

I’m here! You try to scream down the bond. Save me.

You don’t know why. You don’t know why you are asking for help from the very ones you had been running from in the first place. But you just know that, whatever is hunting you, your fate would be much worse with them.

I’m coming. His utter distraught is gone, replaced by a calm composed determination instilled by the awaited reply from you at last. And you know at this moment that it was a mistake to flee. Seokjin at the very least, regardless of everyone else, would never harm you, would always look after you. Why did you leave? Why had you acted upon your deranged irrationality? We’re looking for you. Don’t worry.

Relief. Because that is a promise. And you trust him.

But now the guilt of fleeing from them kicks in. What the bond had made you feel every step you took, that ripping sensation as if you’re tearing apart something substantial, you can imagine being a mammoth’s weight worse for them with their heightened senses.

Something is chasing me. Please help me. I’m sorry.

His fear returns, this time a formidable wave wiping his away short-lived relief. What is chasing you?

Dogs, big black dogs. There was also this man.

Bloody hellhounds and a Drude demon. Shit.

You have no idea what those creatures are but you can tell by the explosion of terror in Seokjin that it’s some of the worse you could encounter.

Distracted by his disclosure, you misplace your foot on an uneven log and topple down, the bark you crash onto scraping fire against your skin. Pain explodes at the back of your skull where it hits something severe. You don’t see beyond a sea of pulsing black.

Then something rips into your leg. You don’t know if you are screaming.

You drift in and out of consciousness.

Tiny stars dance around the deep blue sky. They look pretty.

You think you hear something growling, whimpering maybe.

What is that leaking from you so briskly? Blood? Hmm.

Darkness.

You hear voices? Yes, voices. Unintelligibly arguing. But if you shut your eyes again and stop shifting on the ground, they could pass off as background music.

Then the volume grows. Fighting. Grunting. More Growling. More whimpering.

But you feel safe. You don’t know why but you feel safe. That’s how you know you’ve lost your mind for good. There are virtual flames burning around you, warmth licking at your broken body. Nothing can get past the flames. Nothing can hurt you. This phantom fire is shielding you.

You heart is burning too, fighting. Someone’s sireship is fuelling you, feeding you, forcing life back into you.

When you open your eyes, when a vaguely familiar face appears, hovering over you, obstructing your view of the towering treetops and wavering constellations. You can’t quite put of your finger on his name, but you know you’re safe.

His eyes are big, full of concern and trouble, his hair long, black, wavy but tucked behind his ears. A black liquid is splattered across him, some on his beautiful face that is taut in vexation.

You don’t protest when he carries you in strong sturdy arms, lifelessly flopping against his chest.

He is warm. Fire. Safe.

And then he is zooming past the trees, so fast the wind tickles at you violently, your limp body jostling. Though half unconscious, your eyes don’t leave him, studying his angular jaw, the round crook of his nose.

J…

A droplet of black liquid rolls off his chin and splats onto your arm. It tingles like weak acid, faintly sour, an unearthly sensation.

Your heavy lids seal you back into the darkness.

The first thing you notice when you wake is the softness around and under you. Arms from beneath you draw away, leaving your weight to sink into the bed. Your eyes stay shut.

Warmth is pressed onto your lips, gently, careful as if one hard prod would shatter you. Your throat knows to swallow the stream flowing into your mouth, its taste unfamiliar, but safe.

Warm. And safe.

Almost immediately, you feel its effects catapult into your system. Skin everywhere begins to sew back together, bones like toppled buildings building brick by brick, the chaos in your mind whispered to sleep. That protective fire around you blazing.

Still, you don’t open your eyes. You don’t want to. You can’t face them.

“Troublesome little shit.” He pushes the hair out of your face, touch possessing a surprising delicacy that contradicts his insult and completely entangles your preconceived conception of him. But his voice… So soothing like honey. Not what you expected.

You train your breath to be steadily slow, eyes to be unmoving under your closed lids, hoping to pass off as asleep. The silence creaks, followed by a rustle of bedding. Then you feel the heat of his breath stroke the tiny hairs on your forehead. You suppress a flinch. But he presses his lips onto your skin, so tenderly you almost open your eyes to see if it’s really Jungkook.

“Please don’t leave again.”

And then he’s gone.

❦

@taexxxiiaa @serendipity-secrets @killcomet @askingtheimportantthingshere@blackpanther4550 @comingjimin @unatempesta-dipensieri @dapppphhhhh @unatempesta-dipensieri @beach-bitch-bitch-beach @queerloser17 @linyi-lovbts @somewhereinthestarss @xxqueenwxtchxx @whitefeatheredwyvern @embrace-themagic @brokencrownqueen @i-dont-even-know-fck @bangtandimples @kalkeegan @beetaeass @confessionsofascientist @chimycthulhu @hisunshiine @shooklier @livetay84 @runlikeabuffalo @nanna022 @berryjam17 @thelouhvre @bluemooncnblue @enigmaticlove-03 @lanu-la @bangtanfancamp @brbkpop @jiminisnotavirginrecs @samariakeeper @goodnightbug @dont-touch-me-fwit @tastelessfoolsbts @queensavage1245 @laced-brds @ultraanonymousey @ashchats @godzillagirl-14 @lustremyg @animeshins @it-is-dana @itsavakent @strawberrym0chii @namchimtae @smoljams@brightenn @btsxdoll @d-noona @show-respect-to-your-queen @fyeebangtan@for-hobi @lx-leeta @thesoftuglies

❦

19/01/2020

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franstastic-ideas · 5 years

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I’m Telling the Tooth!

Underfell AU - Sans’s gold tooth gets knocked out during a physical confrontation with a rude human. Unfortunately for him, this means a trip to the dentist’s, and Asgore isn’t the only monster that feels uneasy about dental work. Anesthesia is required for the procedure, and when he wakes up, he makes a lot of loving claims about her that Frisk can’t really believe are true. He says he likes her. He really likes her. He loves her. He wants to marry her. He’s skipping more than a few integral steps of the courting process.

Word Count: 15,829

Warnings: An attempted kidnapping and assault, one instance of a minor curse word, and at one point late into the story it seems as though the narrative will begin to veer into themes of suicide.

Other than that, this is pure fluff with a small spoonful of angst.

It had began as what was supposed to have been a relatively simple shopping trip at the local mall.

But it had ended as anything but that.

Frisk had taken the skeleton brothers along with her because they insisted on tagging along, telling her they had some errands to run as well. Except the two had never been out in public quite like this since coming to the surface and they stuck by her like baby chicks to their mother. After about an hour of this, she had finally managed to squeeze away from them long enough to use the restroom.

It was after she exited the restroom and was finding her way back that the trouble began.

“Hey. You. Pretty girl.”

She continued walking; whoever it was that spoke had obviously not been speaking to her.

“Hey, I’m talking to you. Where you going, baby?” A man with a somewhat muscular build abruptly stepped out from his hiding place and in front of her, blocking her way with a smile and a gleam in his eye that made her insides churn with unease.

“Um, I…” Even after her adventures in the Underground, she still wasn’t good at dealing with confrontation.

But then again, she knew that monsters really were different than humans. The monsters she had dealt with on her journey had been at times violent, hateful, and rude, but so were a sizable portion of humans. The grand difference between them was, the monsters had understandable reasons for their unscrupulous behavior. Humans, more often than not, didn’t need a reason.

And Frisk never liked to judge anyone by their appearance or judge to quickly on the first impression, but she could tell from a single glance and the manner in which that one question was said that this man was nothing but a troublemaking creep.

She needed to get away from this guy, maybe alert someone of her presence, but didn’t it just figure that he would approach her when next to no one was around?

“How about you and I go somewhere quiet together, huh?”

He reached out to touch her, perhaps take her by the arm, but she quickly sidestepped him.

“Leave me alone.” She gave him the most disinterested glare that she could muster, but he had the gaul to laugh at her.

“Oh, you’re a feisty girl! I like that. It’s no fun when they don’t fight back a little.”

She’d had enough of this nonsense. Frisk slipped past him, but she didn’t get very far before her arm was grabbed harshly, fingernails digging painfully into the flesh and her entire body was yanked backwards and pressed roughly into his chest. She thrashed and squirmed furiously, attempting to kick, bite, punch and scratch to escape his grip with little results. He laughed cruelly at her, his other hand reaching over to clench her shoulder tightly with enough force that she was certain it would leave more bruises. She took a breath, ready to shout for help, but he clamped his other hand over her mouth and hissed,

“You try to scream, and I’ll snap your neck right here.” This man definitely had the build to do so, and she didn’t want to find out if he was bluffing or not. “Now when I move my hand, are you going to try to scream?”

She furiously shook her head, her heart and SOUL thumping wildly in her chest out of fear.

“Good girl. Now, you’re gonna pretend that you’re my girl. So quit squirming around and looking so miserable before people start staring. You’ve got an awfully pretty face, and it’d be a shame if you forced me to break it.”

Once he removed his hand from her mouth, it shifted to her now aching shoulder, to her back, all the way down her spine, and then the small of her back. Thankfully, he didn’t get to move his hand any lower before…

Frisk heard her captor let out a pained yowl and she was immediately released. Disentangling herself from the loose hold around her that remained, she came face to face with one of the skeletons she had left behind just minutes earlier in another part of the store. Sans had caught the man’s wandering hand and was bending it backwards at an angle that was sure to be uncomfortable.

“now, i understand more than anybody that babydoll here’s got a gorgeous rear view…” Frisk would have normally scolded him for such a crude statement, but the sheer venom in his voice had shocked her into silence for the moment. “but, that don’t mean you can jus’ go and grab her anywhere any ol’ way you like.”

Sans began twisting his arm as if it had the same flexible properties as rubber, his expression appearing at first glance to be the very image of calmness, but the anger bubbling underneath and in his tone was eerily evident if one were to take another look. Normally, he allowed his expressions to twist and fluctuate with his emotions. Normally, he permitted his volume to gradually rise and fall along with his temper. Sans’s expression, an uncomfortably wide toothy smile accompanied by violently trembling red pinpricks which served as his pupils that were just barely visible in the blackness of his large eye sockets still seemed far too relaxed, and his words were spoken in an intonation that seemed far too soft for him to use in this particular situation. It was a tranquil fury, a type of anger that was entirely foreign to him, and Frisk couldn’t recall ever having seen him this enraged before in her somewhat short, but incredibly eventful time of knowing Sans. And this terrifying display of emotion was brought about entirely due to concern over her wellbeing.

“sweethearts like her need to be treated sweetly, and gently…”

They both could hear the slight creaking sound coming from the man’s wrist. Frisk was aware of how ironic it was that he was twisting and flailing around in the same fashion as she had previously in his attempts to free himself from Sans’s grip. She wondered when it was that the man would turn to violence, but she didn’t have to ponder this thought long before he stopped struggling and balled his free hand into a fist. He swung at Sans’s face, right between the eyes, but the skeleton dodged it with ease. Sans had let go of his wrist, but rather than run, the man was instead looking for a fight, and it seemed her monster friend was more than willing to comply with his foolish wishes.

Frisk was torn between leaving the scene to find Papyrus and staying to see how things between the two turned out. She knew there was no use in trying to end the skirmish herself - she could ease Sans out of a dispute herself whenever one arose with some kindness, gentle persuasion, and determination, but he was out for blood and beyond reasoning with.

Sans was taking this personally; that man had his filthy hands all over his sweetheart, and Sans had been anticipating the first sign of aggression he could find so he could have an excuse to retaliate.

In the end, either option wasn’t possible for Frisk. A crowd of shoppers had paused in their browsing to gather and watch the impending strife, and she had become trapped among the mass of people. She couldn’t see what was happening anymore due to her height, and she couldn’t move past them to find Papyrus either. She hoped that Papyrus would eventually notice the sudden absence of shoppers in whatever store he was currently in if not the surrounding chaos and intervene himself.

Once the fight had began, the man couldn’t seem to land any hits on Sans; the skeleton ducked, dodged, and swerved out of every punch thrown his way and then Sans would take advantage of any openings left to inflict damage himself. He didn’t need to use any magic – laws had been recently created limiting the use of monster’s magic in public, but it wasn’t like he cared anything about that. Sans could wipe the floor with him without relying on his supernatural powers, and that was exactly one of the pieces of information about himself he was making abundantly clear. The next being that Frisk was his human, and this particular human was gonna pay for treating her like some sort of cheap toy that was meant to break.

Eventually, though, Sans grew weary. Not tired, just bored. His opponent’s attacks were far too predictable. He couldn’t just walk away from an important fight like this, though, so he resolved to be creative to keep things interesting. So at some point during the fight, Sans pulled out a pair of glasses from his hoodie pocket that he had taken from somewhere when he had briefly teleported mid-dodge, being most likely unpaid for (they still had the price tag displayed on the frames), and put them on. He even had enough time and plenty to spare to tape them to his skull so they wouldn’t fall off.

“you wouldn’t hit a guy with glasses, would ya?”

MISS

“you couldn’t hit a guy with glasses!”

MISS

He was actively messing with the man now. He almost would have felt a twinge of sympathy for him if he hadn’t rough-handled Frisk and wasn’t a complete creep that was caught preying on women when they were alone. Sans could understand the manly desire to display some aggressive romantic advances, but he paid particular attention to and had learned how to pick up on the mood of his lady and knew when to really back off when his flirting wasn’t appreciated. This human needed to be taught his place, and that the beating he was being put through was just a gentle warning compared to what would have happened if Sans hadn’t shown up when he did.

Frisk had finally managed to wiggle herself towards the front of the clamoring audience, cupping her hands around her mouth and shouting over their whoops and howls,

“Sans!”

“yeah, dolly?” His tone was casual but still attentive, not turning his head towards her when he spoke as he leapt away from another swing of the man’s fist.

She wanted to tell him to stop, that the guy wasn’t worth it, and Sans could get into trouble with the law for what he was doing even though he had initially only been trying to defend her. Instead, she found herself asking,

“How did you even get here so fast?!”

“i was lookin’ for ya.”

“I was gone for five minutes!”

“which was four minutes and thirty seconds too long ta be without ya.”

Ever since they had left the Underground, Sans had practically been attached to her at the hip. She barely had a moment to herself anymore. Papyrus and some of her other monster friends were similar in wanting to occupy all of her time, but none of them could even hold a candle to Sans.

Frisk remembered when this possessive streak of his first began to show itself; he had stopped her in the Judgement Hall, begging, pleading with her not to leave them – not to leave him. Only two foreseeable fates lied in front of her then should she continue with the last leg of her journey; defeat Asgore and return to the surface, or be killed continuously by the king of monsters. Sans was one of the select few that knew of the true nature behind her temporal powers, but it didn’t matter to him if she could simply load after each of her demises. He didn’t want Asgore to kill her and he didn’t want her to go somewhere where he would never see her again.

She had made him care again, and then she was going to leave him.

He had finally relented and allowed her passage, but he wouldn’t let her go without a fight. He would never take her life like all the other monsters had, no, but Sans was determined to keep her with him, and he would do anything within his power to make that possible. With each instance he dropped her HP down to 1, he would then incapacitate her and carry Frisk all the way back to Snowdin, muttering how this was for the best and what he was doing was done out of love. This process repeated, over and over again, an uncountable number of times, until finally she had learned to predict his attack patterns and in turn caused him to use up his magic until he was near ready to collapse.

She could have ran past him and left him there, a screaming sobbing wreck, but she didn’t. She had taken that opportunity to instead comfort him, reassure him that he and everyone else wouldn’t be trapped Underground forever and she would do everything to ensure that they would one day reach the surface. His expression then told her he didn’t believe her, but he had reluctantly let her go.

Frisk was the catalyst for everything good that has happened recently in his life; he and Papyrus making up after several years’ worth of senseless arguments and hurling petty insults towards each other, Alphys and Undyne finally speaking to each other as equals when both were too caught up in their pride to do so, Mettaton and Napstablook apologizing to each other first in private then on live television, thus putting their past estrangement behind them… Frisk was responsible for it all.

And now she had granted him and every other monster a life of freedom here on the surface, just as she had promised.

She was important to him, and she knew that, but Frisk couldn’t even begin to fathom just how much value her life and happiness truly meant to Sans.

So much so that sometimes it nearly drove him mad.

The throng then began to shuffle around boisterously with the action, some laughing at Sans’s antics while pushing and shoving each other to get a better view of the spectacle. Someone standing next to Frisk elbowed her a bit too hard in the ribs and she accidentally let out a yelp.

Sans immediately froze, his focus drawn away from the fight as he whipped his head towards the direction he heard Frisk cry out, but couldn’t see her.

“sweetheart?”

That was all the hesitation his opponent needed; the man he had been walloping for the past five minutes took this moment to strike Sans directly in the mouth, probably because he had been taunting and insulting him throughout the entirety of the match. Sans stumbled backwards, moving one hand to hold the affected area and felt something wet there – pulling his hand back revealed it was stained with red magic, his own magic.

If he still had a mere HP value of 1, that would have killed him.

The idiot, the absolute buffoon, then made the fatal mistake of gloating over his accomplishment, one successful strike against the monster compared to the dozens Sans had effectively delivered, but he was instantly silenced when Sans reeled back and punched him just as hard in the solar plexus, sending the man hurtling towards the ground. He fell, and it didn’t look like he would be getting back up anytime soon.

Ignoring his pain and the garbage on the floor, Sans bolted towards the crowd and began tossing people aside haphazardly and without care until he found Frisk. He took her face in his large skeletal hands and pulled her close, wobbling eyelights worriedly searching her form for any signs of injury.

“babydoll! you okay? i heard you shout.”

“Yes, I’m fine. Someone just accidentally elbowed me a little too hard in all the excitement…” She then gasped, eyes wide and hands clasped over her own mouth. “Oh my stars! Sans! Y-Your tooth!”

“my wha-” He then ran his glowing red tongue, made of magic, over his teeth and noticed one was missing – his gold one.

“That piece of-” He growled, wrapping one protective arm around Frisk in case the man woke up again to harass them as he scanned the floor for his missing tooth.

It didn’t take long for him to find it, the deep lustrous yellow contrasting against the marble white of the floor. He picked it up and pocketed it, still clinging to Frisk as he did so. Once that was done, his attention was instantly shifted back onto her.

He took her by the hands, rubbing soothing little circles with his bony thumbs over her knuckles. “sweetheart, ‘m so sorry i was late... did that walking mixture of crap and raw sewage hurt you?!”

When she had been grabbed, it certainly hadn’t felt good, but after taking in the complete thrashing Sans had given to her assailant, she wasn’t sure if mentioning the bruises that were forming on her skin was a wise idea for fear of what more he might do.

That man wasn’t worth Sans losing his freedom over, she thought.

However, before she could respond, Sans’s hands glided carefully up her arms to rest on her shoulders, phalanges delicately grazing over where she had been seized earlier, and Frisk automatically flinched. Her reaction was enough of an answer for Sans.

“i’m gonna kill him.”

“Sans, please don’t-”

“i really mean it. i’m gonna. but first, i’ll castrate him. right here.”

“Sans, he’s not worth it!”

“he hurt you, and then he tried to touch you. and if i hadn’t shown up when i did, he would have. he’s scum.”

Thankfully, before Sans could carry out his threat, Papyrus had finally made his appearance. His sudden arrival was enough to stop his brother in his tracks as he strode up to them with a look of vexation, arms crossed and appearing ready to put Sans on the receiving end of a brutal tongue lashing for being at the center of such pandemonium.

“OUR FIRST TRIP INSIDE A HUMAN MARKET, AND YOU CAN’T EVEN STAY OUT OF TROUBLE FOR TEN MINUTES WITHOUT ME CONSTANTLY HOVERING OVER YOU. I WOULD ASK IF YOU HAVE ANY SENSE OF SHAME IF I WERE LESS INTELLIGENT AND DIDN’T ALREADY KNOW THE ANSWER.”

“D-Do you know him?!” The man was apparently conscious again, but he couldn’t move around much; he couldn’t even sit up properly.

“AND WHO IS THIS?” Papyrus questioned as he gestured to him boredly.

The man then pointed to Sans, attempting to play the victim – the only ones that knew the truth of what had transpired were him, Frisk, and Sans. He was in front of an entire mob, and if this other skeleton didn’t believe him, then the human members of the crowd almost certainly would over the word of a monster.

He didn’t even get the chance to plead his case before being interrupted by an enraged Sans that already knew what he was trying to do.

“This lunatic tried to-”

“i caught this pervert about to grope frisk!”

Well that got Papyrus’s attention.

“and before that, ‘m pretty sure he bruised her up! she flinched hard when i touched her shoulders checkin’ over for any damage!”

Papyrus’s already narrowed sockets thinned to slits, his heels clacking thunderously against the floor as he closed the distance between them, snatching the man by the front of his shirt and lifting him up with a single arm. Sans’s height was somewhere in the area of six feet, but Papyrus was a seven foot tall, extremely intimidating skeleton monster; so Frisk’s would-be kidnapper was dangling almost two feet off the ground and was at the mercy of a being that had only just recently learned and had a clumsy grasp on the definition of the word.

Papyrus didn’t say a word as he suddenly summoned a large and heavy bone nearly the size of himself, lifted it with his free hand as if it were weightless, then slammed it over the man’s head. He didn’t even get to let out an ‘ow’ before he was out cold once again.

“He’s going to get brain damage at this rate…” Frisk said, her blatant display of concern for her aggressor shouldn’t have shocked the brothers in the slightest considering her compassionate and forgiving nature, but it did.

“AND YOUR POINT IS…? IT’S NOT AS THOUGH HE WAS USING IT IN THE FIRST PLACE.” Papyrus scoffed, dismissing his bone-based attack he had used as a makeshift club.

“gotta agree with my bro here, babydoll. moron should’a used what few brain cells he had and backed off when he had the chance.”

Sans and Papyrus were not finished with him in the slightest, she realized. But before the two could concoct more ways to injure the man further, for the third instance that day, a timely arrival, this time of the police, kept her from having to play the role of the ineffectual peacemaker.

“All right! All right! Break it up! Nothing to see here! That’s right, get moving! You don’t have to go home but you can’t stay here!”

After convincing the gathered people in the area to disperse, the pair of officers suited in blue, a man and a woman, then approached the three. Much to Frisk’s relief, they didn’t appear to be upset with any of them, and she had been so sure that they were here to arrest her two delinquent monster companions. Rather, they swooped in to apprehend the man lying unconscious on the floor of the mall from where Papyrus had clubbed him.

“We’ve been trying to catch this guy for weeks.” The lady officer, Nina Sanchez explained once the officers had successfully carted the man away and the air around them had began to calm. “He landed himself on our wanted list for multiple charges of sexual harassment, threatening behavior, stalking, and attempted abduction. And now we have to add minor assault to that list.”

“he was gonna try to take my baby away…” Sans quietly muttered into Frisk’s neck; the shorter of the two skeletons was curled up to her side as they sat on a nearby bench, his arms locked firmly around her as if she would disappear into nothing if he loosened his hold by even the slightest amount.

“We’re going to make sure he stays behind bars for a long time.” The other officer, Duke Durland, continued. “He didn’t succeed in kidnapping or causing any serious harm to any of the women he’s interacted with, but the intent was still there and crystal clear. He needs to be punished by being locked away where he can’t bother anyone anymore.”

“I ASSURE YOU; I AM MORE THAN CAPABLE OF DOLING OUT A FAR MORE APPROPRIATE PUNISHMENT.” Papyrus was all too eager to propose.

“I understand that you’re angry over your lady friend being targeted,” He went on, attempting to pacify him. “but up here on the surface, it’s the job of officers and the court to deal with criminals.”

“And that means no vigilantism.” Frisk was quick to add.

“BUT YOU CLEARLY DON’T UNDERSTAND – I WAS VICE-CAPTAIN OF THE ROYAL GUARD IN THE UNDERGROUND, SO I’M ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN THAT I CURRENTLY HOLD THE CREDENTIALS NEEDED IN ORDER TO DELIVER PROPER RETRIBUTION UPON TRANSGRESSORS OF THE LAW!”

“Papy, that’s not how it works…” Frisk patted his skeletal arm, urging him to sit down on the bench next to her and Sans; he complied with an almost childish pout, crossing his arms as he did so. “Forgive him. His comprehension of surface world laws is still a work in progress. Back where he came from, if somebody had a problem with someone else, then they settled it between themselves – usually with violence...”

“Oh, you don’t have to tell me that.” Duke laughed heartily, “I have some monster friends of my own, and there isn’t a single dull moment with them around!”

“I thought for sure the two of you had shown up to arrest them or kick us out.”

“On normal circumstances, we would have had to,” Nina nodded in her direction, “But you saved the both of us a lot of trouble in hunting this guy down, and your boyfriend here was in the right to react as he did. …Well, maybe not by starting a full-blown fist fight in a public mall, but we checked the security cameras and the court of law would say he was acting in self-defense and defending another party, in this case, you.”

“Thank you for being so lenient and considerate, but… he’s not my boyfriend.” Frisk awkwardly chuckled, having tried to wiggle out of Sans’s death grip on multiple occasions throughout the conversation, but failing each time. She eventually just sighed in defeat and reached up to pat the top of his skull.

“Oh, I’m sorry… I’m usually good at picking up on things like that.” Nina apologized, but she took a quick glance at the skeleton currently latched onto Frisk and noticed that his grin had slipped just slightly.

“It’s alright. A lot of people say the same thing about us.”

“Uh-huh…” The lady officer allowed her gaze to fall on Sans again and he looked even more glum than a few seconds prior. “Anyway, onto a more pressing matter – your friend lost a tooth in the scuffle, correct?”

Sans nodded, not willing to dig in his pockets to present his severed tooth if it meant letting go of Frisk.

“HOW LOVELY. THIS MEANS A TRIP TO THE DENTIST; YOU KNOW THAT, DON’T YOU?” Papyrus’s tone was unenthusiastic and dry as he turned to his brother, and Frisk felt Sans flinch.

“bro, w-we can’t go. we don’t got the cash for that.”

“Actually, if the payment to fix your tooth problem is an issue, we can easily have it arranged that the perpetrator pay for the procedure out of his own pocket.” Nina offered, “He won’t be needing any of that money when he’s in prison, and it’s not like he can, oh say, go to the mall to buy anything, now can he?”

“That sounds perfect!” Frisk eagerly replied, the amount of silver linings of this situation gradually revealing themselves had yet ceased continuing to surprise her. “What’s your verdict, Co-Captain of the Royal Guard, Papyrus?”

“HMMM, I CAN FIND NO REASON TO OBJECT.”

“does what i think or feel not mean anythin’ to any of ya?!”

“NOT IN THE SLIGHTEST. NOW HURRY UP AND GET TO THE CAR! WE NEED TO GET THERE BEFORE THIS TRIP THROWS OFF OUR SCHEDULE FOR THIS EVENING EVEN MORE THAN IT ALREADY HAS!”

Sans let out a noise that sounded like a mixture between an annoyed grumble and a soft whine but obeyed his brother’s command without protest, dragging his feet as he followed Papyrus’s longer strides out of the building.

“You two would make a really cute couple, though.” Duke commented before Frisk left to catch up with them.

“I’m surprised you would say something like that. Most people look at human and monster relationships as… you know…”

“Heh, it might surprise you to hear someone say this directly, but I’m glad you brought the monsters to the surface. I never would have met my girlfriend otherwise, Miss Ambassador.” He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m dating a bunny lady right now. She used to run a store in a town in the Underground called Snowdin. …I hope to one day call her my wife.”

“It makes me glad to hear you two are happy together.” Frisk found herself smiling; it was rare for her to encounter humans that were so open about their tolerance or admiration for the monsters.

“You should probably get going now; your, uh, not boyfriend was shaking like a leaf when he heard the word ‘dentist’.”

“Yeah, he was. I never would have thought of him as the type to freak out over something like that, but… I better go with them. Just in case.”

She would have tagged along anyway even if Sans had been completely unfazed by Papyrus’s declaration, but if he really was frightened about the visit then her presence might help to ease his fears and provide moral support, even if only by a small amount.

When she had caught up to them, they were already at Papyrus’s car, a sleek black sportscar with painted on hot rod flames, and its owner was already buckled up and behind the wheel. Sans, however, was having difficulty with his own buckle as his hands were shaking too hard.

“OH FOR HEAVEN’S SAKE – STOP BEING SUCH A BABYBONES!”

Papyrus was swiftly losing his patience and his temper.

“Here, I’ll help.” Frisk crawled in the back seat and fastened the buckle for him, their hands brushing over each other’s for a few seconds as she fumbled with the safety apparatus.

“…thanks.” His reply sounded choked to her.

“HUMAN FRISK, STOP SPOILING SANS BY COMPLETING TASKS FOR HIM THAT HE’S PERFECTLY CAPABLE OF ACCOMPLISHING FOR HIMSELF. HE MAY BE MY BABY BROTHER, BUT HE IS NOT THAT INCOMPETENT. NOW CEASE YOUR LOLLYGAGGING IMMEDIATELY AND GET UP HERE WITH ME!”

“Alright, alright. Yes, your vice-captain of the royal guardship.”

“DON’T TEST MY ALREADY DWINDLING FORBEARANCE, FRISK. THIS IS JUST AS STRESSFUL FOR ME AS IT IS FOR MY BROTHER, I CAN ASSURE YOU.”

“Why so?” She inquired as she buckled herself in and the engine roared to life.

“YOU’LL FIND OUT AFTER WE GET THERE.”

“It would be really helpful of you to let me know now.”

“UGH, FINE. WHEN SANS LOST HIS ORIGINAL TOOTH AND BEFORE HE OBTAINED HIS GOLD ONE, HE WAS EXTREMELY PANICKED AT THE THOUGHT OF HAVING SOMEONE MESS AROUND WITH HIS MOUTH. YOU ARE PERFECTLY AWARE OF HOW EVERYDAY LIFE WAS FOR MONSTERS IN THE UNDERGROUND – A DENTAL PROCEDURE WOULD PUT HIM IN A STATE OF VULNERABILITY, AND HE WOULD HAVE TO COMPLETELY TRUST THE ONE PERFORMING THE PROCEDURE NOT TO TAKE ADVANTAGE OF THAT.”

“I guess that feeling of uncertainty is still with him, even though he knows there isn’t in any danger of that happening here...”

“THERE’S MORE TO IT THAN THAT – ANESTHESIA WAS REQUIRED THEN, AND I DOUBT THAT IT WILL BE ANY DIFFERENT HERE IN THE PRESENT AND ON THE SURFACE. AND OTHER THAN THE THOUGHT OF HIM FALLING ASLEEP AND NEVER WAKING UP PLAGUING HIS MIND, HIS BEHAVIOR UPON AWAKENING IN THE PAST WAS… INDESCRIBABLE.”

“‘m right here. ya can stop talkin’ like ‘m not.”

“I’m sorry, Sans!” She squeaked, now acknowledging that she had been effectively ignoring him and was additionally asking Papyrus intrusive and probably embarrassing questions about himself. “Listen, I know the needle will be scary, but it’ll all be over before you even know it and then you can go home. I had to get my wisdom teeth removed before and it was finished in an hour, but you won’t even need to get stitches-”

“stop it.” He nearly growled before taking a deep, shuddery breath and his tone shifting to one that sounded less dangerous and more annoyed. “i know yer tryin’ ta help, but i’d rather jus’ not think about it ‘til we actually get there.”

“Ok… I understand.” Frisk tried not to show the hurt in her own tone as she replied, “I just thought that you might need a little reassurance since you seemed nervous...”

“…”

“you ass. now look at what you did – she’s sad now.” He inwardly began to berate himself. “that little frown on those pretty pink lips is your fault, all you. this is why you don’t even deserve to share the same space as her, much less think you’ll ever be good enough to be the kind of man she needs.”

He looked out the window and watched the scenery roll by in silence, feeling even worse than he had previously.

And after about five minutes of pure silence, Papyrus suddenly spoke up.

“I NEGLECTED TO MENTION THIS BEFORE, FRISK, BUT IS NOW AN UNOPPORTUNE MOMENT TO INFORM YOU THAT I WON’T BE THERE TO SUPERVISE SANS ONCE THE PROCEDURE IS FINISHED?”

“what?!” “What?!”

“I WON’T BE THERE TO SUPERVISE SANS ONCE THE PROCEDURE IS FINISHED.”

“Yes, we heard that the first time, but why?!”

“I AM TO ACCOMPANY CAPTAIN UNDYNE, HER MAJESTY, QUEEN TORIEL AND HIS MAJESTY, KING ASGORE, TO AN IMPORTANT MEETING DISCUSSING MONSTERS AND THEIR FUTURE ON THE SURFACE. WE ARE TO, UNACCOMPANIED AND UNAIDED BY YOU, OUR AMBASSADOR, PRESENT PROOF THAT WE ARE NOT MENACES TO SOCIETY. AND IF THE HUMAN OFFICIALS WERE TO CATCH WIND OF WHAT OCCURRED IN THE MALL BACK THERE, I LOATHE TO THINK IT MAY IN TURN CAUSE TROUBLE FOR THE REST OF MONSTERKIND; EVEN THOUGH SANS DID, FOR ONCE, ACT OUT IN A MANNER THAT WAS ENTIRELY APPROPRIATE FOR THE GIVEN SITUATION.”

“i still wanna castrate him, though.”

“AS DO I, BUT IF WE WISH TO BE ALLOWED TO LIVE OUR LIVES ON THE SURFACE IN RELATIVE PEACE, WE HAVE TO COMPLY WITH THE LAWS OF THIS LAND AND LEAVE HIS FATE UP TO THE HUMANS AND CONSEQUENTLY THEIR UNSUPERIOR AND BORING METHODS OF DISTRIBUTING JUSTICE.”

“The two of you scare me sometimes…”

“AH, BUT DON’T YOU FEEL SO INCREDIBLY LOVED BEARING THE KNOWLEDGE THAT ONE INCREDIBLY HANDSOME SKELETON AND ANOTHER OF SUB-PAR ATTRACTIVENESS BY COMPARISON WOULD BE WILLING TO SHED BLOOD IN YOUR NAME?”

“Not really…”

“HMPH. VERY WELL, THEN. IF IT TRULY DISPLEASES YOU SO, THEN MY BROTHER AND I WILL DO OUR BEST TO KEEP DISCUSSION OF HYPOTHETICAL BLOODSHED TO THE MINIMUM FROM THIS POINT ONWARD.”

“Please do. I’d appreciate it if the both of you wouldn’t try to find creative ways to get yourselves locked away in prison.”

“wait just a sec: if pap an’ i did go to prison though, we could beat up that guy for ya! can’t get in ta trouble and thrown in the slammer for beatin’ the snot out of a guy if we’re already in there.”

“YOU MAY HAVE A POINT, SANS! THERE’S A TOLL BOOTH UP AHEAD; I’LL GO THROUGH IT WITHOUT PAYING AND SEE IF THE AUTHORITIES NOTICE AND PULL US OVER.”

“No! Neither of you are going to prison if I can help it!”

~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t long after they arrived at the dentist’s office that Sans’s name was called, the skeleton shuffling out of the waiting room like a man sentenced to death row on his way to his own execution. He hadn’t uttered a word since they got here, his posture ramrod stiff, but the greatest sign of the discomfort he felt was noticeable in his eyes – his red eyelights had shrunken down to quivering microscopic pinpricks.

Frisk was surprised that he hadn’t began to rattle; when skeletons felt a great amount of excitement, anger, or fear, sometimes their bones would clatter against each other in response. And the only reason she knew this was because of their confrontation in the Judgement Hall – the entire duration of their one-sided fight, the sound of his bones continuously and violently clinking together echoed throughout the space around them with trepidation at the thought of her leaving the Underground forever. It was the first and so far only time she had heard the noise, and she hoped that should she ever hear it again, it would be from happiness.

Sans had snapped at her during the car ride when she tried to comfort him, so she was left feeling useless and her company unneeded. However, when Sans’s name was called, he instinctively grabbed her by the wrist.

He had wanted to hold her hand.

He held no issue with grabbing her by the hands or nearly anywhere else when he was flirting, but in his time of emotional insecurity, Sans couldn’t allow himself to be put into a position that would reveal what he discerned as his inner weakness. He wanted Frisk to see him as her big, scary skeleton monster bodyguard. How was she supposed to perceive him that way if he was getting his shorts twisted over something as simple as a visit to the dentist’s?

He was both proud and ashamed of the look he gave her before he stood up; Sans managed to reign control over his eyelights for a few seconds, willing them to go back to normal long enough to stare her in the eyes with all the intensity he held within.

Sans looked at Frisk like she was his entire world and this may be the last time he would ever see her.

And it very well may be the last time they see each other; what if the office was filled with monster hating bigots, and when he went under he never woke up again, and then the entire incident would be ruled as a misfortunate accident and swept under the rug along with his dust? Sans loved sleep, but the thought of being forced into an eternal slumber was enough to paralyze him, and every single bone in his body went rigid once the needle came into view.

Frisk and Papyrus were in the waiting room for nearly an hour afterward before a nurse came over to tell them he was almost ready to be taken home. The taller skeleton nudged Frisk along towards the direction the nurse pointed out, his face turned away from her with a light redness dusting his sharp cheekbones.

“YOU NEED TO BE THE FIRST THING HE SEES WHEN HE REGAINS CONSCIOUSNESS. I WOULD ONLY MAKE THINGS WORSE IN THIS SITUATION.”

She wanted to argue that his claim wasn’t true, that the familiarity of Papyrus’s presence would reassure Sans far more than her own, but his tone had sounded so convinced and final that she didn’t push the issue. Frisk followed the nurse to the back room where the dentist himself greeted them before allowing her to see Sans. He went over the things that she might need to be cautious over and what to expect in the next few hours, but she also wanted to know about his current emotional wellbeing.

“How did it go? His reaction, I mean.” She asked with a twinge of unease.

“Just fine. A little bit of cursing when the needle went in, but then he was out like a light. He should be waking up any moment now.”

Another nurse popped in directly after his statement, “Actually, the patient woke up just now and he’s acting… emotional.”

When Frisk heard the word ‘emotional’ pass her lips, she had expected a large-scale, curse-ridden tantrum from the skeleton. What she didn’t expect to find was Sans nearly curled up in his seat, quietly sniffling as tears ran down his cheekbones like miniature waterfalls. He looked so lost, so terrified, and so vulnerable… It was utterly heartbreaking and pulled at her SOUL in ways she couldn’t even begin to describe.

She understood now why Papyrus had wanted her to see him first; Papyrus did love his brother, but he couldn’t handle his more softhearted outbursts. For years, the pair had grown up believing that to show tears was a sign of fragility, a stamp of death in a kill or be killed world, and it was only after the two met Frisk that they became more receptive towards the notion of openly expressing feelings that were unrelated to rage. Sans didn’t cry often, but whenever he did, his brother still didn’t know how to deal with it in the slightest. So it was because he loved his younger brother that Papyrus decided to pass him onto Frisk’s more tender care.

“Sans…?” She maintained a soft volume as she approached, not wanting to startle him.

His head immediately whipped up at the sound of her voice, far too quickly to not have been painful, she thought, and his eyesockets went near impossibly wide as if he couldn’t believe she was really here. Those red eyelights then began to swell, almost filling the entirety of the dark space they occupied.

“y-you came for me…” He whispered, his words slurred but still intelligible.

“Of course I did. I would never leave you, Sans.” She delicately reached over to stroke the crown of his skull and this seemed to placate him somewhat, his flow of tears beginning to slow.

Sans had dreamed while he slept.

It was a dark dream. He had been taken somewhere pitch black and couldn’t see or hear anything. It was The Void, he was certain; a place monsters occasionally spoke of, mostly respected, and always feared. No one knew just how one would cross over to this place, but it was said that once one entered there was no escape. And for Sans, being there even while inside the relative safety of a dream was a complete nightmare. There was nowhere and nothing, time and space no longer existed, and with nobody to speak to, he was left with only his thoughts to keep him company. He was far, far away from Frisk and his brother, and he just knew he would never see either of them again.

So when he opened his eye sockets to find himself in a world of sound and color once more, he had first been overcome with relief. But then his blurred senses couldn’t detect a single sign of Frisk’s existence within immediate reach, nor his brother’s, and that was enough for him to feel as though he were dropped back into another nightmare realm. Her presence and words brought him a great deal of comfort and eased his frightened and weary SOUL; she had told him what he had wanted to hear always, that she would never leave him – if this too was another figment of his imagination, then he didn’t want to wake up if it meant being forced to live in a world without her.

Sans gave her a lopsided grin with his newly reattached golden tooth, content now that she was here before him, safe and within his reach. He wrapped his arms around the limb of hers closest to him, wanting nothing more than to cuddle his precious human. But she needed to go tell Papyrus that he was awake so his brother could help her guide the stocky skeleton to the car, and he was extremely reluctant to allow her to leave his sight for even that.

“Sans, I’m just going to get your brother. You know, Papyrus? I’ll be right back. I’m not going anywhere far, just into the next room.”

He squeezed her hand, gazing up at her with wobbly eyelights. “p-promise…? promise me you’ll come back.”

“I promise.” She used her free hand to stroke his left cheek, and he leaned into her palm, lifting up his own to rest over hers and press himself further into her touch.

He reluctantly permitted her to leave only after placing a clumsy kiss against her fingers as they slipped out of his hold.

The dentist stepped into the room directly after, preparing for his last patient for the day and making it easier for Sans to get up when his escorts came by adjusting the chair. As he scurried around the room doing this and that, Sans suddenly became talkative.

“didja see that girl i was with?”

“Yes, you mean Ms. Frisk, the ambassador? Is she a friend of yours?”

“yeah, she is. she’s my best friend in the whooooole world besides my brother.” He swayed around happily in his seat with a carefree giggle. “and i’m gonna marry her one day, but she doesn’t know that yet.”

It took every ounce of his willpower for the dentist to not laugh and retain his professionalism; he saw dozens of patients a week that had their fair share of interesting and amusing things to say while under the influence of the anesthesia, but Sans was behaving so innocently and had spoken so fondly of the human in his company that it was enough to melt the old man’s heart.

“Getting married is an important step in a committed relationship, so wouldn’t it be a good idea to let her know how you feel?”

His eye sockets widened. “you’re right…! i-i do need to tell her! i need to tell her right now!”

He then attempted to wiggle out of his chair to find Frisk himself instead of patiently waiting for her to return. The only thing that prevented him from tumbling out and falling flat onto his face was the dentist’s swift movement of grabbing him by the shoulders to steady him, then carefully easing Sans back into his previous position while scolding him on his recklessness as if he were a misbehaving toddler. The six-foot-tall skeleton then slumped backwards with a pout, his preceding lovesick expression screwing into one of annoyance.

When Frisk eventually did return with Papyrus, as they lead him out the back door and towards the car that was parked just outside, she couldn’t understand why the dentist was looking at her, smiling and chuckling to himself as if she were missing out on an inside joke or something of the sort. Sans must have said something really special for a professional that saw this sort of behavior daily to react in such a way. She nearly shuddered to think what nonsensical statements a mind such as his could have assembled while in this state.

She assisted Sans in buckling him in the back seat as she did before. He practically begged Frisk to sit next to him, but she politely declined. He was acting so loopy that it was taking all of her self-control not to laugh at some of his drunken antics and articulations. He might take her laughter the wrong way and accidentally have his feelings hurt, since he seemed to be far more sensitive when he was like this.

Sans was also incredibly chatty while high, she learned quickly.

Every single thing that popped into his head was evidently broadcasted to his captive audience of two. And most of what was said were things that would certainly embarrass him if anyone else aside from the pair heard them. Sans could most likely brush aside anything that occurred here with them later, but right now he was rattling off puns that made no sense and jokes without punchlines, and Frisk also made the mental note that he was acting incredibly and uncharacteristically sappy. She wondered if this was what Papyrus had meant when he mentioned his behavior being indescribable.

Indescribable was certainly one word for it.

“frisk. ey, frisk? frisky~”

“Yes, Sans?” She sighed for what felt like the fifth time in the past three minutes.

“has anyone ever told you your hair is really pretty…?”

“Sometimes…?”

“well, it is, and no matter how many times ya may of heard so already, it still don’t get said enough. it’s… really really pretty. like, it’s all soft and it smells nice. skeletons don’t have all that soft stuff on our heads, you know. and i know i probably reek of mustard all the dang time, so… it’s really different. it’s nice.”

“Thank you, that’s really sweet of you to say.”

“no no no, you’re the one that’s sweet. you-your trait is determination, and i admired that about ya a lot from the moment we first met, but, b-but you have so much kindness in your SOUL that sometimes it’s a lil’ overwhelming... i didn’t understand that back then, but i do kinda have an idea now and i appreciate it so much… i appreciate you so much, frisk.”

“I appreciate you too, Sans. You’re a good friend.”

“no ‘m not. ‘m always causin’ trouble for ya. because of me, people look at ya funny on the street an’ they start ta talk. they’ll look at ya anyways without me there ‘cause yer too pretty not to talk about an’ look at, but i make ‘em look at ya an’ talk in the bad way. it’s all my fault.”

“No, none of that is your fault, Sans. If those people are going to look down on me because you’re my friend, then I don’t want those same individuals to be looking at me in a positive light during the rare times you’re not standing next to me. And besides, staring is rude.”

“but-but what about when i look at ya? does that mean i can’t ever look at ya again because it’s rude? i can’t do that – you’re too cute to ignore. even fer a little bit. i can’t help it. i just gotta look at ya, all the time-”

“Alright, alright! I’ll make a special exception for you – you’re the only one that’s allowed to stare at me, Sans. On occasion.”

“AHEM.”

“Ok, you’re given an exception too, Papyrus…”

“THAT’S MORE LIKE IT, AS I’M CERTAIN YOU’RE OBVIOUSLY FLATTERED TO BE THE OBJECT OF MY ATTENTIONS?”

“Sure…”

“‘asides, if i don’t always look at ya, then what’ll happen if someone decides to take ya away?”

“That won’t happen-”

“but it could! and it almost did just today! d-don’t you remember at all?! y-you were there! my baby almost got taken away from me forever…”

She heard him let out a soft sob in the back seat and Papyrus shot her an unimpressed glance, mouthing out the words that she was still somehow able to decipher despite him not having lips, ‘SAY SOMETHING TO HIM…’

“B-But it didn’t, Sans! You showed up at just the right moment when I really needed you! …I feel fortunate to have someone in my life that takes such an active interest in watching over my wellbeing.”

And that was the truth. Before she befriended the occupants of the Underground, Frisk’s life had been barely acknowledged by those around her, and those that did pay her any mind gave her the sort of heed that she nor anyone would want; tormentors, perverts, thugs; those were the only sort of people that gave her quiet existence any notice… So when the monsters that entered her life began showing signs of appreciating, reciprocating, and even actively vying for her attention, Frisk had secretly felt incredibly flattered and somewhat ashamedly relished it. For once in her life, she finally felt important to not only someone, but several someones. But now that the inner bliss of those occasions had begun to fade and the consequences of their extreme behavior, particularly Sans’s, had come about, she was much less thrilled over the dramatic and even sometimes possessive in nature gestures and displays that were frequently presented to her.

These monsters had gone so long without expressing love for another, they didn’t know how to anymore without going entirely overboard with it.

And that’s exactly what Sans was doing currently – going completely, utterly, and not-so gracefully swan-diving-into-the-water overboard with showing his affections for her.

Sans was flirtatious by nature, and she knew he didn’t mean to indicate interest in initiating a serious romantic relationship with the recipient of his sweet words, recurring caresses, and terms of endearment, especially whenever they were directed towards her - because that’s just who Sans was. And he had absolutely no filter even without the involvement of anesthesia and little understandings of personal space, most likely because he was raised in and exposed to a violent upbringing and environment. So with him there existed a thin line between when either a positive or negative touch, depending on the mood set of the situation, was appropriate at any given time. He would throw his arms around her and nuzzle the pulse point of her neck with the tip of his nasal ridge just as swiftly and eagerly as he would throw a punch to someone on the street that had personally wronged him in some shape or form.

Sans was the living definition of the expression and phrase, ‘all or nothing’ and ‘go big or go home’.

“aww… i feel lucky ta have ya too, sweetheart.” His cooing was slurred, and Frisk imagined the dopey grin he must be wearing as he swayed around as he spoke – the mental image was enough to bring a smile to her own lips. “yer always so nice and sweet ta everyone, even me. …that’s why i love ya.”

Before Frisk could utter a single word or even the slightest sound, they had pulled up at a traffic light, the car pulling to a stop with a loud screech.

How appropriate.

After a long and uncomfortable silence, she slowly turned her head towards Papyrus, but he wasn’t looking at her. His gloved fingers were clutched tightly to the steering wheel and he was staring straight ahead of them at the vehicle-infested road.

“…I LOATHE DRIVING AT THIS HOUR.” Was all he said, his voice noticeably more faint than usual and a near imperceptible tremble discernable in his tone.

The quietness around them stretched on. The only things that could be heard were the sounds of the car’s engine, the air condition, and the occasional honk from an impatient driver somewhere.

Frisk’s cheeks were burning. Her throat felt dry.

Nobody had once ever said that to her. In any shape, way, or form.

Her SOUL should be bursting with happiness, to hear someone say they loved her. But all she could feel was a sense of uncomfortableness – Sans was clearly not in his right mind at the moment. Frisk knew she was important to him, he told her that enough on a near daily basis and she knew that unlike his flirtations, his appreciation for her was entirely sincere.

Perhaps he did love her, she thought, but not in the romantic sense, surely…

She finally managed to regain her voice.

“Thank you, Sans. For saying that. I love you too…”

“noooooo…!” He whined loudly as he kicked his legs, surprising her. Before she could question his odd response to her reply, he continued. “not like that; i know you like me. i-i even know you love me… but, i didn’t mean like that.”

Frisk couldn’t recall having ever felt so confused in all her life – by that way, did he think she had misunderstood his declaration of love as something romantic when it was only intended to be platonic? He had told Papyrus just fifteen minutes prior that he loved him as well…

“you’re the best bro i’ve got, papyrus...” He had nearly cried when Papyrus turned on the air conditioner after Sans complained about the heat.

“I’M YOUR ONLY BROTHER.” He sighed.

“i know, b-but you’re still the best. i love ya, papyrus.” He sniffled, causing Papyrus, after a few seconds had passed, to quietly mutter that he felt the same.

Papyrus probably would have appreciated the sentiment far more if Sans hadn’t been high as a kite when he said it and his eye sockets had been dry.

“Then in what way did you mean when you said that, Sans?” Frisk honestly wasn’t sure if she should have asked – his brother looked so tense behind the wheel, but he wasn’t giving either of them any warning glances or cues to put the topic to a close.

“you know… i love you - like that. like… like this.” He raised up both hands, weak and wobbly, then touched the pads of his two index fingers together. “oh wait, you can’t see back here from up there…”

“I’m afraid I can’t, Sans.” She laughed uncertainly, but she had heard him make a noise with his mouth that sounded like a kiss, despite him not having lips.

Or perhaps he did…? Or maybe she just misheard him because of the air conditioner. Yes, that had to be it.

Papyrus, however, had apparently seen everything from the car’s internal mirror that gave him a view of the back seat, which escaped Frisk’s view because of her far smaller height.

“GOOD HEAVENS, SANS!” He rolled his red eyelights with an indignant huff. “SHOW SOME SELF RESTRAINT FOR GOODNESS SAKE! SHE’S ALREADY MARRIED!”

…What?

That was all Frisk could think after that rebuttal. She wasn’t married; it was true that she wore a ring on her left hand on the finger that usually indicated if someone was or not, but she did so mainly because of the sizing of the ring and because it felt most comfortable on this hand. Papyrus knew that.

And so did Sans.

But in his disoriented state, all logic and reasoning he normally would have exercised and applied in this situation had been flung out the window.

“frisk, how could you?!” He shouted with dismay, struggling against the binds of his seatbelt. “i’m not with you for… for… i get unconscious… and-and the moment i do, you go and get married to some other guy behind my back?!”

“…What?” Frisk turned to Papyrus, hoping for some sort of explanation, but all she could see were the beginnings of dread and regret in his expression.

“WHAT BRAND OF CHAOS HAVE I UNLEASHED…?”

Sans was having a complete nuclear meltdown in the back now, and at this rate, poor Papyrus’s nice and very expensive car might be totaled from the inside out if either of them didn’t put an end to his brother’s tantrum soon.

“Sans, calm down! You’re going to hurt yourself! …Or this car!” She managed to somehow raise her normally soft voice above and over his own, a feat she would later be impressed by. “Sans, I’m not married!”

“……y-yer not? then… then why did papyrus-”

“IT WAS A JOKE. A JEST. A JAPE!” Papyrus interjected with another huff. “…BUT NOW I REALIZE MY MISTAKE. TO TAKE ADVANTAGE OF YOUR… EMOTIONAL VULNERABILITY AT THIS TIME, IT WAS… A RATHER CRUAL JAPE.”

“yeah, it was.” Sans readily agreed, letting out a growl of his own.

Papyrus mumbled another apology before returning to his usual persona. “NOW CAN WE RETURN TO HOME WITHOUT ANY FURTHER INCIDENTS, PLEASE? THERE, I SAID ‘PLEASE’.”

“frisk… frisk really isn’t married…” He sounded so relieved. “uuunnh…”

And once again, Sans was so overcome with emotion that he could only express it by spontaneously bursting into tears.

“Papyrus, would it be possible for you to pull over, please?” Frisk timidly requested. “Maybe if I sit in the back with him, he’ll calm down for the rest of the ride?”

He wordlessly nodded his consent, then visibly cringed at the sound of his brother blowing his nose into the sleeve of his jacket.

“y-yer gonna sit in the back, frisk? with me?” Sans momentarily paused in his sobbing, but only just for a moment. “i’m so…haaaaappyyyyyy…”

At the next traffic light, Papyrus let his forehead hit the top of the steering wheel with a loud groan.

~~~~~~~~~~

A while later, the three had reached the skeleton brothers’ house without too many more tears being shed. The drive home had only lasted about thirty minutes, but it had felt like hours to Papyrus. He just wasn’t equipped to handle Sans while he was in this condition, so it gave him some amount of relief that Frisk was the one who would be dealing with him.

But only by a small amount.

He didn’t completely trust Sans at the moment, and he would continue not to for as long as he was like this.

“IF HE ATTEMPTS TO DO ANYTHING UNTOWARD, I GRANT YOU FULL PERMISSION TO WARD HIM OFF WITH THIS.”

He then tried to present Frisk a wooden baseball bat riddled with nails. Curiously, there was also a bright red ribbon tied to the handle. Was this supposed to be a gift of some sort?

“I really don’t think that will be necessary, Papyrus.” She gave him a weary smile. “Sans wouldn’t do anything… as you said, untoward. Even when he’s like this.”

“YES, I’M FULLY AWARE THAT HE WOULDN’T. THAT WAS YET ANOTHER ATTEMPT OF MINE TO MAKE A JEST. IT SEEMS ALL MY JAPES ARE FAILING THIS EVENING.”

“…Oh.” That was all she could say; he looked genuinely upset that he had failed to make her laugh, but only for a moment before his usual scowl returned just as quickly as it left.

That wasn’t truly why he didn’t trust Sans right now; he knew his younger brother respected Frisk’s boundaries and wouldn’t harass her, even while intoxicated – no, what Papyrus couldn’t trust him with currently was…

“TRUTH BE TOLD, IT’S NOT SANS THAT I AM CONCERNED WITH.” He began to confess, his expression contorting to one of concern. “OUR LIVES ON THE SURFACE WORLD ARE FAR DIFFERENT THAN WHEN IN THE UNDERGROUND, BUT I HAVE NOTICED THAT THIS WORLD IS NOT DEVOID OF VIOLENCE AND CRUELTY. THE OUTCOME OF OUR BRIEF EXCURSION TODAY REMINDED ME OF THAT… SO, IT WOULD EASE MY MIND SIGNIFICANTLY IF YOU WOULD ACCEPT THIS WEAPON I AQUIRED, SOLELY FOR YOUR PERSONAL USE.”

“Oh, Papyrus…” She had misunderstood his intentions; he was only trying to protect her, in his own odd way.

She gingerly took the nail bat from him, giving it a test swing at a safe distance from any of their furniture, just to make him happy. It did. When she turned around, it was quick, but she caught a glimpse of his smile. Not one of his cocky smirks, but his real smile. There was no other way for her to describe it but dazzling.

“Thank you, Papyrus. I probably won’t have to use it, but I appreciate it and I’ll keep it nearby… because it came from you.”

A deep scarlet rose over his cheekbones. He diverted his gaze from her, shyly.

“THE CRIMSON RIBBON… IT’S THERE IN ORDER TO IDENTIFY ITSELF AS YOURS.”

The Underground had three primary colors, each representing something the entire monster population held sacred to them.

Red – Determination. The monsters craved this trait of the humans that imprisoned them above all else, so they donned its color for strength.

Gold – Their currency. For money sometimes held more value than anything else in their bleak and dreary lives.

Black – The Void. Its purpose unknown, and its existence constantly acknowledged and feared.

Of these colors, red was the only one that held any true significance to the monsters since the breaking of the barrier. Because that was the color of the SOUL of the human that had brought them their salvation.

The ribbon looked fancy, expensive even. Frisk couldn’t say she had ever wanted a nail bat, especially since she considered herself a pacifist. But she could tell that this gift came from Papyrus’s heart, metaphorically speaking.

She took another moment to appreciate the ribbon’s texture before he awkwardly cleared his throat.

“I MUST BE GOING NOW… I SHOULDN’T BE ABSENT FOR LONG. I EXPECT TO BE BACK SOMEWHERE AROUND TEN TONIGHT. BY THEN, THE ANESTHESIA SHOULD CERTAINLY HAVE WORN OFF. AFTER MY RETURN, MY BROTHER AND I WILL ESCORT YOU TO YOUR OWN HOME.”

“Papyrus, that’s kind of you, but it really isn’t necessary. I live just down the road, remember?”

When the brothers had first began looking for a house on the surface, the sole requirements they had listed were that it be located within walking distance of Frisk’s own home, and that Grillby’s was easily accessible from wherever their future residence was located –this second condition came solely from Sans. She didn’t understand herself why that last bit was so important to him when it was common knowledge to the three of them that he could easily teleport anywhere he wanted to go as long as he knew where his destination was located.

And for whatever reason, it seemed both skeletons had assigned themselves as her bodyguards ever since they moved to the surface.

“I WILL NOT ACCEPT ‘NO’ FOR AN ANSWER. I CAN COMPREHEND WHY MY BROTHER’S COMPANY MAY BE GRATING AT TIMES, BUT IS MY PRESENCE SO UNDESIRABLE AS WELL?”

Oh, Papyrus was not above playing the guilt trip card on Frisk if it meant keeping her safe.

“That’s not it at all! Neither of you are unwelcome around me-”

“THEN YOU ARE IN AGREEMENT WITH MY SUGGESTION THAT WE ARE TO ESCORT YOU LATER TONIGHT…?”

“I suppose there’s no harm to be found in it…”

“OF COURSE THERE ISN’T. YOU SHOULD LEARN TO ALLOW YOURSELF TO RELY ON OTHERS MORE OFTEN, ESPECIALLY WHEN THIS OTHER PERSON IS MYSELF.”

“I’ll try to keep that in mind. Good luck at the meeting, Papyrus.”

“I HAVE NO NEED FOR LUCK; I CAN CHARM THE OPPOSITION TO SHIFT THEIR CONTRASTING OPINIONS IN OUR FAVOR WITH EASE, BUT I ACKNOWLEDGE THE SENTIMENT.” He was as delightfully conceited as ever as he said this, like a strutting peacock with its feathers fanned out. “KEEP YOUR PHONE CLOSE BY – SHOULD YOU NEED MY ASSISTANCE, FOR ANYTHING AT ALL, I WILL CUT MY PRESENCE AT THE MEETING SHORT AND RETURN HERE. JUST FOR YOU. AS I KNOW YOU WOULDN’T INTERRUPT SOMETHING SO SIGNIFICANT FOR ANY REASON THAT COULD BE CONSIDERED FOOLISH.”

She agreed to keep her phone on her person at all times while he was gone, and he allowed his gaze to linger on her for a short while longer than necessary before he stepped out the door, leaving Frisk alone with Sans tucked into bed upstairs.

Sans had fallen unconscious the instant his head had hit the pillow. Guiding him up the stairs had been a challenge for them both; Papyrus could have simply lifted him and carried Sans up the stairs without the need for any issue, but Sans had insisted that Frisk help him alongside Papyrus, and neither of them were in any mood to hear another one of his tantrums.

He had almost fell down on a few occasions, and a task that should have only taken a few seconds to accomplish instead took several careful minutes. The stocky skeleton had even briefly fell asleep halfway up and the two were forced to carry him with one of them grasping him at each end.

“MIDNIGHT WILL HAVE PASSED BY THE TIME WE REACH THE LAST STAIR IF WE KEEP IT UP AT THIS RATE. I THINK WE CAN AFFORD TO GO A LITTLE FASTER, WOULDN’T YOU AGREE?”

“Huff… That’s easy for you to say!” She panted, struggling to keep a firm hold on him. “You have the light end!”

“SANS DOESN’T HAVE A LIGHT END.”

And to emphasize his statement, Papyrus made them switch sides, nearly sending the slumbering skeleton down the steps for the third time since they began their gradual ascent when he suddenly tried to turn over in his sleep.

Frisk hoped that Sans never got into another accident that would make him lose one of his teeth, because she wasn’t sure she could survive having to carry him up that flight of stairs again.

Magical skeleton monster or not, he shouldn’t be that heavy! That was what she had thought then.

The muscles in her arms ached, but at least she could relax a little now.

They had brought Sans home at about six ‘o clock, and he remained asleep for a little over an hour before Frisk was alerted he was awake by him suddenly letting out an agonized wail.

She quickly pounded up the stairs, his wails sounding as though he were in sincere and significant pain. When Frisk entered his room, she found him lying on his back, eye sockets wide open with his glowing irises shrunken down to pinpricks once more. His hands were clutching the sheets in a shaky grip, and his entire body was trembling violently.

“Sans?” She called out to him softly, knowing that he didn’t seem to be completely there as of yet from whatever undoubtedly horrific dream it was he had escaped from. “Sans, it’s me. Frisk.”

“…frisk?” He murmured after a long stretch of silence, his body stilling.

His voice still sounded slurred, but less than before.

“Yeah, it’s me. I’m right here. I’m here.” She slowly stepped across the carpet towards him until she eventually reached his bedside. “Can you tell me what’s wrong? Are you hurting anywhere?”

“…had a nightmare.”

“Do you want to talk about it or…?”

He shook his head from side to side, small streams of tears escaping his closed sockets.

“That’s alright. You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.” Frisk sat down on the edge of his bed and softly cupped his cheeks, gently wiping the tears that fell with her thumb.

He raised his own hands weakly to cover her own, his touch featherlight and barely there as he let out another wet sob.

Unlike the several instances where he had burst into tears during the drive home, this spell of tears felt less like a small child’s tantrum and more like a plea for help. It was more akin to when he first woke up and noticed that Frisk and his brother were nowhere to be found. He had been seized by a sudden, almost primal fear, a deep loneliness that threatened to smother him if not immediately remedied.

“i… i love you, frisk.” He choked out as he squeezed the top of her hand. “i love you so much… you don’t have to feel the same way that i do, but please, just let me love you and don’t leave me, ever…”

This declaration, again, unlike when they were in the car together, sounded far more desperate and anguished.

And it was also now undeniable that he intended his words to be perceived by her as being nothing but romantic in nature.

Frisk wanted to convince herself that it was probably the anesthesia talking, that she must appear different to him while in this state and it caused him to act more needy, and she just happened to be the person closest to him during this time, so she was the one being subjected to his forsaken whiplash responses. Anyone else could be standing in her place at this moment and his reactions wouldn’t change - this is what Frisk tried to tell herself.

But she found herself quickly getting sucked into the whims of this new side of him revealed to her, this lovesick and vulnerable Sans that was looking at her and only her.

“Shh, shh, shh… Sans, it’s going to be alright. I’m right here, in front of you, holding you, and I’m not going anywhere.” She shushed him, attempting to calm him even if only slightly. “It’s okay for you to love me. I love you too.”

“nooooo…” He groaned again, followed by a hiccup. “stop it. just stop teasing me like this! you don’t think i am, but i’m being serious! i love you, frisk. i really really love you! and not just as a friend either. i… i don’t want some no name human guy jerk to be the one to marry you. i wanna be the one to do that… i wanna marry you, frisk!”

Frisk had never felt such a red-hot burning sensation in all her life. Her face was such a vibrant shade of crimson, it was nearly scalding. She was certain that if she could look in a mirror, it would appear as if she had received a severe sunburn, her face was so red.

“Sans…” She began to trail away, but he grabbed her wrist and yanked her back towards him onto the bed and himself, wrapping his arms around her and pulling Frisk into his chest.

She could hear a wild series of thumps coming from his ribcage, which produced a sound not unlike her own heartbeat at this point in time. There was no other thing that could have produced this noise but his SOUL, forlornly crying out for her own.

“if… if you want a pretty ring, i’ll get one for you. i’ll get you one that’s much bigger and even prettier than the one on your finger. if it’s a fancy and expensive wedding you want, i can give you that too. it may take me a while, but i’ll make it happen, for you. if it’s kids you want, i’ll give you as many as you want our family to have, or none at all if you’d rather it be just us two… but if you do want some, i’ll provide for you and them the best i can, i promise, frisk.”

He had said the ‘p’ word – promise.

Sans hated making promises. While the monsters weren’t ones to honor their word while they had been immersed in the old ways of the Underground life, he still felt the word put him into a position of responsibility. That’s why he avoided that word at all cost.

And Sans had just promised to love, marry, and have children with her if she so desired, three of the most responsibility-laden commitments known to mankind.

Forget being flushed with embarrassment; her head was spinning far too much to even think straight now. How could anyone possibly think straight after hearing all this while being in her position?

Sans slowly carded his phalanges through her hair in a manner that was meant to be soothing as he spoke, his tone much lower and softer than she was used to hearing. Her head was tucked under his chin and his other arm was draped across her back, preventing any possibility of a successful attempt at escape.

Frisk was immensely thankful that Papyrus wasn’t here to see this. Otherwise, the taller skeleton might have actually made due on his previous joke about bashing his brother over the head with a bat covered in nails for this display of behavior.

She wiggled uncomfortably, but instead of loosening his grip, Sans only held her tighter. He then adjusted the two of them into a slightly more comfortable position, as if that would fix the matter in some way. Sans must have thought so, because the hand that had been absentmindedly tangled in her hair moved to the back of Frisk’s head when she had been caught trying to raise herself up and pressed downwards, her ear directly over his ribcage where his SOUL was still hammering away against his bones.

After lying there for a few more seconds, mulling over her options, Frisk finally decided to just be direct with him.

“Sans, you’re gonna have to let me go.”

“no. i don’t want to.” He held her even closer, somehow. “if you’re not here with me, you might go somewhere where i’ll never see you again. so… i’m never letting you go again. ever. simple as that.”

“You can’t do that, Sans. It’s not possible.”

“well not with that attitude.”

“Sans!” She struggled, kicking her legs to little effect.

“do you hate being with me that much…?” There was an audible hint of nervousness and uncertainty in his tone as he said this.

She managed to lift her head enough to get a glimpse of his face, and she wasn’t prepared for how lost and alone it looked. He wasn’t trying to manipulate her with his words – Sans, at this moment, truly was drifting in a sea of self-doubt and was seeking for the answers in her.

“Don’t say something so silly.” She reached up to pat his boney cheek, the texture smooth and oddly soft against her skin. “I enjoy your company. I love being with you, Sans.”

“…i love spending time with you too, sweetheart.” He lifted the hand that had been behind her head and rested it over hers to keep it there, closing his eye sockets as he enjoyed the blissful warmth that emanated from it. “if i could have it my way, i’d never go a second without you. because i love you…”

Frisk involuntarily shuddered; he had moved so his mouth was directly next to her ear. Hearing something like that, so possessive yet loving, with his breath ghosting over her skin… it was just too much.

These affectionate, and nearly obsessive words that were coming from Sans were things she had secretly always wanted to hear.

And it was terribly, horribly cruel.

Because he was only saying these things because he wasn’t in complete control of his thoughts or actions.

Anyone else could replace her at this scene and in this moment, and nothing would change.

So no matter how much Sans insisted that his affectionate claims were true, she couldn’t believe a word of it until he was fully sober.

“…ya never gave me an answer.” He spoke again after a while, almost causing her to jump at the abruptness. His voice was beginning to sound more slurred too. “i finally confessed to ya… i’ve told ya just about everything i’ve always wanted ta say to ya since when i realized i felt this way… but you never said a word.”

“…” She still wasn’t sure what to say.

“i’ve poured out my whole SOUL to ya, and it still ain’t enough…” Before she could come up with a reply, he started speaking again, his tone urgent. “then tell me what i can do ta have ya, to make ya mine.”

“Sans-”

“i’m not flirting with nobody but you no more cuz you’re the only girl i think is attractive anymore. could come home ta find some blonde thing in a skimpy red bikini, posed all seductive on my bed and i wouldn’t feel a thing. nothin’. ask her what she thought she was doin’ here an’ tell her to shove off.”

Frisk absorbed his statement and then took a moment to dwell on it. Her mind did a replay of the time they had spent together on the surface, and she found she couldn’t recall a single instance of him flirting with anyone aside from herself. In fact, he almost looked annoyed whenever a member of the opposite sex flirted with him these days. It had certainly happened on a few occasions, and Frisk was there to witness it.

“and i try not to cuss as much anymore cuz i know you don’t like it. same thing with the alcohol – i used to look forward to one day tryin’ the booze you humans got for myself if i ever got up here, but now i know you hate the smell, and drunk people scare ya, and you’re right: the risks just ain’t worth it. can’t get any of those diseases you humans get, but my mouth runs somethin’ wild plenty enough when ‘m not drunk.”

“Oh, I know. Believe me, I know this now…” She thought, but also had to silently admit that everything he was saying was indisputably true.

Sans had changed a lot since they had become friends.

And she had been mostly blind to it, paying more attention to him for his misdemeanors than his efforts to change. He had been silently working to improve himself, and Frisk hadn’t paid him any mind.

It made her feel guilty, but she still couldn’t allow herself to believe that he really loved her – not yet.

Her own crippling self-doubt and denial was stronger than her desire for affection.

“so… what do i gotta do ta make ya fall in love with me?” He finally allowed her some breathing room, but only so he could gaze into her eyes – eyes were the window to the SOUL, and he needed a glimpse inside hers now more than ever. “i’ll do anything. really. anything ta make ya mine and mine alone.”

“Sans… you don’t need to do anything. Not at all.” She smiled at him, but it wasn’t the one he liked, the one that would make his SOUL do somersaults and backflips every time he saw it. This one looked strained, forced. “I just… this is a lot to process… and I can’t really believe anything that you’re saying right now.”

“why not?!” He replied, indignant.

“Because… you’re not acting normal. You’re… you’re all hopped up on anesthesia right now. And, well… anesthesia makes people say a lot of crazy things that they normally wouldn’t. So until it’s worn off, I can’t believe you.”

“so yer sayin’ ya can’t trust me cuz I’m drunk? ya think ‘m not tellin’ the tooth?!” He spat; his voice was really slurred now. “the-the nerve ‘a ya! i-i’ll have you know… that i am cone sold stober…!”

Frisk just smiled at him, almost smugly as realization bloomed across his face, that what he just said didn’t sound right.

“wait, wait, wait. crap. i… i’ve got this, just… gimme a minute…” His eye sockets began to narrow sleepily.

“Sans, I’ll make an agreement with you, about your confession,” He perked up just slightly, now rapt with attention. “Tell me again in a little while. Then I’ll give you a proper answer. But first, you need to sleep.”

“ok, i promise. but-but… how can i… possibly sleep…” His body was growing heavier and heavier. “when i know that… when I wake up… the most important moment a’ my life…”

The back of his head hit the pillow with a soft ‘pomf’. She sighed, but felt a bit of anticipation as she disentangled herself from him and tucked the covers up to his chest again.

She gave his cheek another gentle pat and made her way out of his room, hoping that this time no nightmares plagued his sleep and that he was in his right mind when he next awoke.

~~~~~~~~~~

At about nine-thirty, a half an hour before Papyrus’s scheduled return, Frisk once again heard sounds coming from Sans’s bedroom.

She put down her book and padded up the stairs, opening his door and praying to herself that the mostly sane Sans she knew had returned.

“uuuugh, i feel like i got hit by a freakin’ sixteen-wheeler truck! fully loaded!” He groaned, clutching his cranium crabbily.

“Oh, Sans, you’re back!” She couldn’t help but shout, causing him to flinch and she gave a quick apology.

“did i go somewhere…?”

“Kind of? You went to the dentist.”

“…oh yeah, that did happen. i’m remembering that now… can we not talk about it? i don’t wanna think about it.”

“Certainly. And how are you feeling?”

“aside from feeling like my bones were hollowed out and got loaded with rocks? pretty ok, i guess? everything’s kind of a hazy blur ta be honest.”

“Is that so…?” She laughed, but it sounded so forced, to both of them.

“…why are my zygomas wet?” He reached up to touch his cheekbones, his confused expression contorting into one of disgust. “feels like i’ve been cryin’. …i didn’t… do that, did i?”

“…”

“frisk.”

“Yes, you did cry…”

“how much?”

“When you first woke up, when you woke up again, on and off nearly the entire ride home-”

“holy sh-” He caught himself. “crap… oh crap… you… and you saw everything… you must’a been so embarrassed an’ grossed out.”

“No, no, Sans… it’s… it wasn’t like that.” Frisk rubbed at her arm, averting her gaze.

“then what was it like?”

“…I’m not sure how to describe it.”

“indescribable. just like paps said.”

“…”

He didn’t remember.

He didn’t remember what he had said to her…

It was taking every ounce of her willpower not to burst into tears herself.

“You idiot. How could you let yourself believe, even for a second that-”

“frisk… can you come ‘ere for a sec?” He asked, his tone quieter, softer.

It wasn’t helping her wounded heart and SOUL at all that it was the same one he used when he had said all those beautiful things to her earlier. But she did as he requested and walked towards him, Sans not saying another word until she reached his bedside.

“hey, sweetheart…” He lifted one hand to cup her cheek, rubbing his thumb across her skin. “why ya cryin’?”

She didn’t answer him. Instead, she ripped herself away from him and his touch, as painful as it was to do so, and turned around, refusing to face him.

“babydoll? frisk?” He tried to unwind himself from the sheets, but she froze him in place once again.

“Stop it! Just stop it, Sans! Please!”

“stop what?! i don’t understand what your problem-”

“No, you don’t, and that’s exactly what the problem is!” She wailed, knowing that she shouldn’t and couldn’t take out her feelings of hurt on Sans – none of this was his fault.

It wasn’t his fault that she was an unlovable mess that also couldn’t accept even the most simple gestures of affection.

Frisk stood there, crying her heart out and neither knowing quite entirely why until she decided she’d made a fool of herself enough for the night and quite possibly for the rest of her life. Just as she reached for the doorknob, his voice stopped her, barely above a whisper but somehow still audible over her sniffles and sobs.

“sweetheart… i’m sorry…” Sans spoke, his voice filled with genuine sympathy and warmth.

“Why… why are you apologizing? You didn’t do anything…”

“and that’s the problem. i… didn’t do something i was supposed to, right?” He smiled wearily at her. “i broke a promise. i promised i’d tell ya how much i loved ya when i woke up sober and then i didn’t.”

“So… you remember?”

“i do now.” He sighed, sitting up. “some things are still a little hazy… but, i remember everything that had to do with you. i… i meant everything, frisk. every word. what i said, those were just a handful of the things i think about when you’re on my mind, every day, constantly.”

“Sans…”

“but… you don’t feel the same, do you? i was thinkin’ you might of told me to wait because you were tryin’ to think of a way ta let me down easy, so i hesitated on telling you how i felt again. but then you started cryin’ for seemingly no reason except for i didn’t speak up when i said i would, so… i’m… kinda gettin’ some mixed signals here.”

“…” Frisk still couldn’t say anything, even now.

“come ‘ere, babydoll. let’s talk this out.” He patted the empty space next to him on the bed, urging her to sit down. “i’ve said how i feel, now it’s your turn. give me the honest truth. i can take it…”

He was still expecting a rejection, and he had lied.

He was certain he would dust instantly if she turned away his love.

She sat down next to him, crawling up on the bed to sit crisscrossed. Frisk opened and closed her mouth several times, but nothing would come out. Not until Sans reached out to take her hand, rubbing his thumb over the back.

“Sans… I… this is so hard for me to do.” She choked out.

Sans’s posture stiffened.

He was readying himself for a rejection.

“It’s just… nobody’s ever said anything like that to me before.”

His shoulders first slumped out of relief, then jumped up with surprise.

“…nobody ever said they loved you?” He had to say it himself just for the concept to soak in.

“Never. I… Sans, you have to understand; nobody has ever treated me like you or the other monsters do. I spent my entire life believing that I must have been some sort of mistake, that I wasn’t supposed to be here and had no place in the world… So the reason I even ended up in the Underground in the first place… was…”

“oh, sweetheart…!” He said in a gasp, gathering her up in his arms and began rocking her in their embrace. “oh, stars sweetheart, you don’t gotta say anything… not if you don’t want to. nobody’s forcing it out of ya. but… you don’t feel the same way now that you did then, do you?”

“No, not anymore. And… it wasn’t like that, Sans. Not how you think it was.” Frisk gazed up at him, attempting to console him now even though she was the one crying. “I didn’t jump if that was what you were thinking. I climbed Mount Ebott as a self-imposed exile. I just… it was dark. I didn’t see that hole in the ground…”

“even if ya didn’t jump, it’s still just too sad for my SOUL to take, sweetheart.” He held her tighter, his bones clattering softly. “you came all the way out there, all by yourself, because you were that lost and lonely… and you could of died!”

“But I didn’t-”

“but you still could have! you could have died when you hit the ground! you could’a snapped your spine in two… or broke so many bones that you couldn’t even walk… then you would of starved to death if some other monster didn’t find you and finish ya off… you would have died… and you might of never got the amount of determination to SAVE, LOAD, and RESET… and i never would have met you… oh, stars, it could’a happened!”

He held her so tightly that it almost became difficult to breathe.

Now he was sobbing.

“frisk, i can’t even imagine what kinda life you must of lived before, but…” He released her just enough to grasp her face in his hands again. “everybody i know loves ya frisk, and even if they didn’t, even if everybody else in the world hated you, and everybody else in the world hated me for it… i would still love you.”

“Sans…!” She buried her face back into his chest. “Sans, that’s… that’s all I’ve ever wanted to hear! Oh, stars, Sans! I love you too!”

“shh, shh, shh… it’s alright, sweetheart. it’s ok to let it all out, but remember to breathe.”

He was such a hypocrite, was what she might have wanted to say if she were less of a mess, but right now she just wanted to bask in the warmth of his love.

His love for her and only her.

After several more minutes of sobbing, they both had finally managed to compose themselves.

“…Look at us. Now our faces are both a mess.” Frisk laughed.

“you’re still beautiful, though.”

Her cheeks turned red at that, but now it wasn’t flushed from crying.

“Well, I thought that you looked cute when you were crying at the dentist’s office.”

“‘ey, i thought i asked ya ta not talk about that.”

“Alright…” She pretended to pout.

Her expression was so cute that Sans couldn’t resist bending down to give her a peck on her scrunched up nose.

“so… you love me.”

“Yes, I do, Sans.” She quirked an eyebrow at him – it sounded like what he had to say was leading up to something.

“so does this mean you’ll marry me?” Bless him, he sounded so excited when he asked her that.

“No.”

“oh…” And then his shoulders immediately sagged, along with the corners of his mouth.

“Not yet, at least.” She patted the top of his skull placatingly with a chuckle. “It’s still a little soon for that, but… I’m also not saying it’s entirely out of the realm of possibility. Especially if you continue to be as sweet and loving as you’ve been tonight.”

If Sans had a tail, it would have been wagging so fast it wouldn’t be detectable by the human eye.

“really? ya mean it? then can i tell everyone we’re engaged?”

“No.”

“aww… no fun allowed.” This time it was Sans’s turn to pout. “…can i say we are to some of the guys that try ta mess with ya so they’ll screw off?”

“…Maybe.” She almost laughed at how quickly his expression changed from sulky to joyful. “Why do you want to get married so quickly, anyway?”

“because… back in the underground, that’s what you did when ya loved someone and they loved you back. it was kill or be killed, so if you didn’t do what you wanted to today, you might not get to tomorrow… so that was why i decided ta be different than everybody else and do absolutely nothin’.”

“Pfft! Sans…” She hugged him. “I don’t plan on going anywhere, and with you and Papyrus around all the time, not to mention the others, I doubt anything will ever hurt me. The surface is different than the Underground. We don’t have to rush this relationship along – we can enjoy it at our own pace.”

“ok, but… i’d still totally be down for marrying you right now if you agreed to it.”

“At least take me out on a date, first!” She snorted, elbowing his ribs.

“ok! then let’s go on one - right now!” He stood up, his steps wobbly as he rushed towards the door. “then we can get married after!”

“Sans, where are you going?!”

“to get something to eat. what else?!”

“Wait, Sans! I don’t think that’s such a good idea!”

“why not? we’re just going to grill- aaaugh!”

Sans let out a startled cry as he lost his footing on the stairs, screaming during the entire duration of his descent. He landed face down on the floor with a pained groan.

“Sans! Are you hurt?! Say something!” She shouted, hurrying down the steps herself as quickly and carefully as possible.

Sans’s hands fluttered towards his mouth, his eye sockets wide.

“ow… my… my tooth! oh stars, not my tooth again! it’s gone!”

Frisk let out a horrified gasp, hands coming up to clasp at her own mouth.

He turned around to face her, and then removed his hands, revealing a cheeky and toothy grin, his golden one clearly visible and gleaming from the brightness of the living room lights.

“juuuust messin’ with ya.”

“You… You…” Frisk seethed, “Forget being a pacifist! I’m gonna clean your clock!”

She ran towards him with fists flailing. He chuckled, sidestepping every blow she tried to land on him with ease. All until she slipped on the rug and it raveled up beneath her. She tripped forward, and Sans held out his arms to catch her. The both of them ended up knocked to the floor, Sans underneath her and Frisk on top of him just like before.

He wrapped a bulky arm around her waist and grinned.

“oh, i remember this part from earlier too…”

She tried to stay mad at him, she really did. But the sight of the smugness on his face melting into an eager smile as he leaned his head towards her with slightly puckered bony lips quickly extinguished any fury she may have previously felt.

Frisk tilted her head to the side so her nose and his nasal ridge wouldn’t collide with each other, but he took the time to brush the tip of his against hers – a nose nuzzle, as they had called it Underground. Then they leaned towards each other more, about to close the distance between their lips for real for the first time.

And at that moment, they heard the door open.

Papyrus stood there, standing at the doorway still as a statue, his left eye socket twitching.

None of them said a word for what felt like the longest, until…

“this… is exactly what it looks like.

#franstastic writes #frans #sans x frisk #papyrisk #underfell #undertale au #sans #frisk #papyrus

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probably-writing-x · 5 years

Text

Speechless.

~~~Based on Speechless by Dan + Shay~~~

"Alright babe give me five minutes!" You shout down the stairs as Tom hears you trip into something once again.

He chuckles and glances up to see your figure hurrying back down the corridor to the bedroom you shared with him. The movement encouraged the smell of your classic perfume to come trickling down the stairs toward his nose, a comfort he welcomed as he inhaled. It was like a scent that somehow defined you.

"Alright are my shoes down there?" You ask, hurrying down the stairs as you try to pin up the last parts of your hair - despite the fact it already looked effortlessly perfect.

"Stop doing that when you're coming downstairs," Tom laughs, catching your waist as you reach the bottom, "You'll fall one day,"

"And you'll be there to catch me," You smirk, pecking his lips quickly.

You dart past him to slip on your shoes that were, in fact, right by the door, and Tom can't help but stare at you helplessly. His eyes dart between the art of makeup covering your skin, down to the low neckline of the dress you wore and to the way it could flow around your legs. He let his gaze drift all across you and he found himself frozen in his spot - still unsure of how you had this much of an effect on him.

"Ready?" You ask and it shakes him from his daze, "What are you staring at?" You chuckle.

He shakes his head and scratches at the back of his neck, "I uh- Well, I-"

"You're a mess, Holland," You laugh, walking over and kissing him once again, "This happens literally every single time,"

"Nothing new," He chuckles, holding you close to him so that he can kiss you once, twice more.

The two of you were heading to a Brother's Trust event tonight. It was more of a high profile event in which a bunch of possible partners, ambassadors and journalists grouped together in order to give a bit of publicity to the organisation and, hopefully, help out in the long term. Tom always had no fear about you on nights like this. In fact, you eased his concerns about everything else just by being you. You were relaxed, comfortable, confident, welcoming and in all ways the depiction of what people would describe as 'perfect for him'.

"You don't need to worry, love," You speak over his thoughts once more as your hand settles over his in the back of the taxi that was taking you to the evening, "You've planned this meticulously over the past couple of months, it's literally impossible for anything to go wrong,"

"Oh no I'm not nervous, I mean I just-"

"I know when you're thinking about something T. I'm practically psychic," You joke to ease the worry and his shoulders begin to lose theirs simultaneously.

"I think you must be," He mumbles, eyes lingering on you for a little longer than normal.

Yours glance back up to him so that you're now simply locked in eye contact. But you'd never know how much of a deepset effect those eyes could have on him. They weren't of bold piercing colour and they weren't particularly prominent on your face. They were soft and calm and they seemed to always carry a dim light in them that brightened when you smiled. They were cool and tranquil, in all ways impossible to not get lost in. Tom was yet to find a way of combatting their labyrinth. But he wasn't complaining.

He hadn't complained since the first day they'd looked in his direction.

~~~

"It's a pleasure to meet you Mr Holland,"

Tom wasn't sure of the source of the voice but the mention of his last name made his ears awaken. He turned his gaze to notice a young woman, roughly his age, speaking politely to his father. She had an air of calm to her presence and a wisdom beyond her years - evident in the way she carried herself. He found himself completely focused on her instantly.

"Ah, Tom!" It's his father's voice that snaps him back to reality as he glances up to see that they've now both turned in his direction, "This is Miss (Y/l/n), she was just explaining to me the work that she's been doing in Namibia and it sounds like something we could get on board with,"

Despite this being the protocol time to respond, Tom finds himself completely speechless in her presence. She wore a dark red coloured dress that fit her form perfectly and shaped her figure in all the right ways. She'd paired it with a pair of heels that made her just a little taller than him and he'd only just realised how much he'd been staring...

"What you're doing with The Brother's Trust is really incredible," You smile welcomingly, "I'd love to know more about the work. Your father was just telling me about the possibility of a few future projects and they all sound amazing,"

"Uh yeah, yeah I-" Tom knew that his nerves were completely obvious, and that was making things even worse, "I'd love to get to know you- you and your work of course I-"

His Dad continued to chat away after that and the three of you were soon joined by his Mum too, who you'd welcomed with a warm embrace as though you'd known her for years. But all Tom could do was watch you. It was like he'd come face to face with his greatest weakness. And he hadn't even learnt your first name...

~~~

Somewhere between the car journey and Tom's thoughts getting the better of him, the two of you had arrived at the prestigious event. First of all, was the red carpet. The pair of you were met with endless flashing cameras and plenty of journalists requesting interviews from the top couple of the night.

"It's so exciting to have been able to witness the progression of the organisation and being able to see how much the boys have worked to really make this into something that is truly making a difference," You nod to the interviewer, your hand finding Tom's as you spoke so fondly of him.

Even hearing you talk made his heart flutter full of nerves, still after all this time. He couldn't help himself.

"And Tom, isn't it great to have the support of (Y/n) through this whole process?" Thw interviewer prompts.

"Yeah, I'm -" He stops and glances at you, "I'm the luckiest guy in the world,"

~~~

The two of you spend the night mingling between as many people as possible and Tom slowly forces himself more and more to focus on you less. He's stood chatting to his brothers when you excuse yourself to go to the toilet.

"Yeah so I think it would be great if we could speak to them more abou-" Tom continues the conversation, stopping only as his eyes catch sight of the beauty that just stepped back into the room.

You're pinning your hair up into place once again and your eyes glance around the room before you catch sight of him.

"Dude!" Harry hits him over the head, "How, are you still so distracted by her? It's been three bloody years!" He laughs, evidently knowing the effect that you had on his brother. He was yet to find himself just how much of an effect love could have.

~~~

The air was probably a little too crisp to be stood outside but Tom welcomed the bitter chill. It was late enough for the London streets to have died down from their buzz and now he was only accompanied by the, shadows of stars and their artificial friends, the street lights.

"Room for another?" A voice he could now match a face to speaks up against his quiet.

Tom turns on his heel to glance in your direction, "Hi,"

"Hello," You smile, "I'm not a stalker or something but I figured I should give myself a proper introduction to you. I'm (Y/n),"

"(Y/n)," He repeats as if a name could be beautiful enough to match her, "I'm Tom,"

"This has been a really lovely event Tom but you seem as though you're a little lost," You comment, taking a step towards him on the balcony, "I've heard a lot about you and none of the comments tell me you're very nervous,"

"I guess certain people have certain effects," He scratches at the back of his neck, "So, really, I have to blame you,"

You laugh a little and, very much to his surprise, you blush at his compliment.

The embarrassed gesture might as well have knocked the air out of his lungs. You were just goddamn perfect.

"You know, it's not very often that I meet someone that can take the words right out of my mouth," Tom laughs, evidently relaxing into the quiet setting.

"Oh, love, I'm not even trying yet," You joke and laugh so much at your own comedy that your laughter becomes impossibly infectious.

He knew he'd listen to that laugh on repeat if he could.

~~~

"Honey, you're seriously out of it today!" You chuckle, turning so that you're facing Tom and settling your hand on his chest, "What's on your mind?"

"You,"

~~~~~~~

Tags: @imarypayne @sunshine112 @bringmethehorizonandpizza @supernatural-girl97 @vibhati123 @butithasntkilledyouyet @faefictions @carisi-sonny @trap-house-homiecide @spiderrpcrker @tommydaspidey @oneblckcoffee @darlingtholland @fanficparker @xxtomxo @httpfandxms @jackiehollanderr

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wclfmoon · 5 years

Text

history repeating. | allison, charlie, fiona, jackson (& kate).

the wind kicked up slightly, sending the leaves on the trees in the preserve rustling. it was still hot out, but the sun setting earlier and earlier and the slight chill to the breeze indicated the approach of autumn.

it had been around this time of year that allison and her family had first moved to beacon hills; when she’d first arrived in town, she’d thought the woods were dreamy and romantic. as time had passed and she’d learned of the secrets the woods harbored, it would have made sense for her perception of them to change, yet it never had: still to this day, she thought there was something so tranquil, so romantic, about the tree-lined paths and stone formations.

it was easy to let her thoughts wander to this, to the beauty of the woods around her, rather than to think to hard about what she was here to do.

they knew kate, along with the witch and the vampire, were staying out in the woods somewhere; although their scents were often covered or convoluted, the wolves had been able to pick up on enough to discover this. they also knew that kate had called the witch off before she’d been able to hurt allison or charlie, and they knew that, as much as they were watching the people who were likely still on the list, kate, at least, was probably watching them.

the placement of the first murder, outside of the loft, made a great deal more sense now, knowing who was behind it. kate, no doubt, had taken some kind of sick delight in leaving a body for the pack to find, in potentially framing derek for another murder, in dangling in their faces that they couldn’t save everyone, not from her.

allison picked up her pace as she crossed the bridge and veered right, heading towards the hale house. she didn’t have the wolves sense of smell, but she’d felt eyes on her as she’d left town, and knew kate wouldn’t be able to stay away if she led her there, of all places. allison alone in the hale house would be too hard for her to pass up. horribly, allison knew enough about how kate thought still to know this. kate, in her own maniacal way, thought she could save allison from the pack, was probably still so certain she could sway allison back to her side. and kate, like so many other argents, was so prone to manipulation, she couldn’t pass up the opportunity to try for it once more.

slowing to a walk, allison approached the hale house, taking the front porch steps lightly and pausing outside of the door, listening. the trees continued to rustle in the wind, and several species of birds were chirping and singing in the background. she could hear squirrels leaping in the branches, chattering to one another. and quietly, beneath that, the sound of branches parting, and a twig snapping under the undeniable weight of someone about her size.

ducking her head, allison smiled to herself as she pushed the door open and stepped over the threshold.

come and get me, bitch.

the first time she’d ever been in the house, she’d been with kate. kate had followed her then, too; had promised allison she could help her feel confident, help her feel powerful. then, allison had gone to the house because she wanted to understand what could cause derek to do the things she thought he had done; what could cause someone to terrorize five teenagers in the high school all night. the contents of the house had only served to confuse her further.

this time, she let them enrage her.

she made herself look at the charred walls, the broken pieces of furniture left behind. kate did this. all of this. she locked a family inside and set their home on fire. she destroyed the hales. she came back again to try to finish the job. and when she failed, she came back again.

and again.

and history would keep repeating itself until someone stopped her.

allison spun around, more from a sense than anything else, and came face to face with kate. the other woman held up her hands, as though to demonstrate she wasn’t holding any weapons --- not that she needed any, at this point --- and for a moment, allison was thrown by how normal she looked. she was dressed just like she always used to; her stance was relaxed, her expression bordering on playful.

“what, no hug?” kate dropped her arms to her sides, shrugging a little. “alright. i get it. you need time to warm up to me again. but it is good to see you, allison. and it was good to see charlie, too. i’m glad he’s here with you. you’re a much better influence on him than his parents would be. well, for the most part anyway.”

“what are you doing here, kate?” allison demanded.

“i would have thought your dad would have had a conversation with you about your friends,” kate said, clicking her tongue and ignoring allison’s question. “werewolves? really? unless you’re playing the long con. i mean, you would be even better than me if that’s what you’re doing, and you have to admit,” kate gestured around them, grinning, “i am pretty damn good.”

she laughed to herself, rolling her eyes a little at allison’s stoic expression. “oh come on, lighten up. remember what i told you? if you don’t find things to laugh about, you’ll just go crazy.”

“and you’re a glowing example of stable mental health,” allison snapped. kate laughed again.

“see? there’s my girl. hey, remember the last time we were in here?” as she spoke, kate started to pace slowly, crossing beside allison as she did. allison remained motionless. “and i told you i could help you feel powerful? i can still do that. don’t you want that, allison? i can save you from them. i can save them from themselves. no more killing, no more hunters, no more werewolves. i’d think this is the solution you’d want.”

“you’d think i want you to kill some innocent girl outside of derek’s apartment?” allison’s voice was low and measured, as she forced herself not to give anything away.

“allison, allison,” kate sighed. “how many innocent people get killed by supernaturals every night, huh? what’s a little more collateral damage until we solve the problem for good? as soon as we break this spell, every single one of us gets to be human again. no more dead girls in alleys, no more supernatural wars between argents and hales. not that that’s been a problem in beacon hills lately,” kate crossed behind allison’s back, but the smirk was clear in her voice. “and i thought you and scott was history repeating, but this...this is just too good,” she chuckled darkly. “his scent’s all over you. don’t you mean you and derek’s apartment? honey, as far as long cons go, you’ve got me beat. he’s hot though, right? i don’t blame you for being curious. tell me, does he still do that thing ---”

allison spun around, dagger raised, and kate caught her arm in midair.

“you didn’t really think that would work, did you?”

“actually, i did,” allison smiled, swinging her other arm forward and slicing across kate’s wrist.

kate shoved her back immediately, screaming in pain as her eyes flashed bright blue. the wolfsbane the blade was coated in would already be making it’s way into her system, even as she screamed in rage and lunged for allison.

allison manged to sidestep kate’s attack, and the two spun around, facing each other. kate’s eyes flickered and her bared fangs vanished behind her lips as she closed her mouth. “it doesn’t have to be like this,” kate insisted, clutching her wrist. “once we complete the ritual, i’ll be cured. they’ll all be cured. then it’ll be fine. you’ll see.” she staggered a little to the side as she spoke, a clear indicator the wolfsbane was taking effect. seeming to understand that herself, kate paused, then turned, bolting for the door.

oh, hell no.

allison ran after her, raising her wrist and letting her dagger fly. it sailed through the air and struck kate in the back as she retreated, and allison leaped from the porch onto the ground and ran to where kate had fallen in front of the house.

“are you crazy?” kate roared, half-human, half-beast. she struggled to her feet, and this time when she lunged for allison, she made contact, dragging her down onto the forest floor with her and digging her claws into allison’s shoulder. allison winced in pain, biting down hard on her lower lip until she drew blood to keep from screaming as kate twisted her claws deeper into muscle and flesh.

“who are you doing this for? huh, allison? for your pack of mutts? for derek?” she practically spit his name. “you want to know how stupid he is?” she growled, close to allison’s ear as allison stretched down, into where kate dug into her shoulder. her other hand was completely pinned under kate’s claw. “i poisoned him with wolfsbane the first time he came to my house, and he still didn’t get it. he bought me jewelry. when i realized he wasn’t in the house after the fire, i left in in the ashes so he’d know it was me. i waited while they all burned. i listened to them scream for help. i watched the little one run away.”

pulling her arm back up hard, fighting against where kate had her pinned and causing even more damage to her own shoulder, allison brought the syringe full of wolfsbane down into kate’s neck, pressing down and releasing the serum into her blood stream. kate let out a horrible sound before collapsing to the side, gasping. she struggled to try to reach for allison as allison dragged herself to her feet, dropping the syringe next to her knives and pulling out her phone. blood ran down her arm as she stared down at kate, feeling nothing but blinding, horrible rage for the woman who had come home and braided her hair after watching a family burn alive, after listening to their screams. she tortured them, she watched cora run, she used derek and then rubbed it all in his face. kate’s arm fell back to the forest floor as she blacked out completely.

keeping her eyes on her, allison lifted the phone to her ear.

“hey, it’s me. i’ve got her out by the hale house. and can you bring me a change of clothes? thanks. i’ll see you soon.”

#rel. > pack #para. > history repeating.

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tnffc · 6 years

Note

HAHaha... When you sleep, if your soulmate is awake you can see what they're doing.

Hoh…boy, okay ^^

This got angsty but I hope you like it:

____________

Everybody has a soulmate.

That was the lie people told each other.

Why did most people believe that? Because they knew it was true for them.

They dreamed of their soulmates. They dreamed what they were doing when they were awake while they were asleep.

There were many theories on how that ability developed, though there was no consensus on it as far as Peter knew. The most popular idea was, you started seeing what your soulmate did at the same time you started developing interest in romantic relationships.

That was why many first dreamed of their soulmates when they were teenagers, aged between 13 and 16 usually.

How did Peter know that whole shebang was absolute bullshit?

He was almost twenty, definitely romantically interested and had yet to dream of anybody.

When he had been a teenager he had anticipated the day he would finally dream of his soulmate. He had loved the idea of person meant for him, someone he wouldn’t have to worry might not like him. He knew he was difficult, too smart, too snarky, too arrogant sometimes. He knew people avoided him because he could have an unsettling aura. His sister and older niece had told him often enough. Luckily Derek didn’t seem to care.

He loved him for it.

But he was pack, Peter was yearning for someone who would truly understand him and appreciate him. Who might be able to do that, if not a soulmate?

Well time had passed, years of not dreaming of anybody. Some nights he had strange dreams he suspected might be something but they never were, they were just regular dreams, maybe a bit of wishful thinking as well.

When he was asked what he dreamed about, what his soulmate was like he stayed quiet or said he felt that was a private matter.

He didn’t really have many friends at that age so it wasn’t like anybody cared.

And there was no fooling his sister. She was his alpha and when she demanded information he could not deny her. So she knew, and she wasn’t necessarily careful with that information, so the pack, family and other acquainted werewolves knew too.

He was either teased for not being ready for romance or pitied because something had to be wrong with him.

It sucked.

Right up until he was about to turn eighteen and realized maybe it wasn’t that something was wrong with him but with the phenomenon of soulmates and how it had been documented.

He started researching and found a lot of supporting evidence.

There were many people - well some - who did not dream of anybody. Most seemed to identify as aromantics but that didn’t bother him. He finally found people who understood the dilemma, understood the stigma, who felt for him.

He even made friends.

Educating himself on the topic helped him find new perspective.

While he could only guess why there was apparently no soulmate for him, at least he could free himself from the oppressive societal structures surrounding soulmates.

He started going out, started engaging with people without worrying, wondering. He knew he was unbound and while that might hurt sometimes it also freed him.

Because there was no perfect person to love and accept him he had to find people for himself.

And while he was still a difficult person he learned that didn’t mean people weren’t interested in spending time with him if he made an effort.

~*~

Now, at almost twenty he was studying philosophy at the local college, had a nice group of friends and acquaintances and knew soulmates were just another lie people liked to believe in.

So he didn’t think much of it when he woke up one morning with the memory of one of the strangest dreams of his life.

He was lying in a huge room, it was dark except for light coming from somewhere he couldn’t see, illuminating some strange shapes above his head. Looking to the right and the left, his movements uncoordinated as if he was drugged or hexed he could see thick bars surrounding him like some sort of prison. He didn’t like that, not at all, he felt scared and alone and decided to try and change that, so he screamed, for someone, something.

And something did change. Another light appeared, it was warmer than the other and then a creature, huge and strangely shaped, almost human but not quite was above him, making incomprehensible but soothing noises at him while showing it’s large, terrifying teeth that probably could easily have taken off Peter’s entire arm…

He had woken up.

Confused about the fucked up nightmare but otherwise unconcerned.

It had been rather early though and he didn’t think he could go back to sleep so instead he got dressed and decided to go for a relaxed morning run.

The rest of his day was uneventful.

But the next night he had a very similar dream.

This time it woke him in the actual middle of the night and he had had to scream for much longer without the creature with the soothing noises coming in.

The rest of the night he tried to get back to sleep but felt restless and incapable to really get some decent shuteye.

Chris, who was something like his best friend actually mentioned how tired he looked.

Peter did not appreciate that but also didn’t feel like mentioning his weird dream.

At least not while Chris’ soulmate Victoria was sitting next to them. He didn’t particularly like her and definitely didn’t trust her.

It wasn’t like it was very smart to trust Chris either, being the heir of a hunter dynasty and all, but Peter knew the guy wasn’t as wild to kill werewolves as the rest of his people.

His heritage was actually a huge part why Peter had befriended him. Being his sister’s left hand meant he had to deal with threats. And befriending the future head of the Argents was a lot easier than constantly fighting them. It might actually be the base for a truce in the future if he played the cards right.

That night he dreamed of the room with the cage like confinement again and the feeling of loneliness and distress overcame him again, he screamed and screamed again. The only difference was the creature coming for him.

This time it looked different, with a different shape, bigger, bulkier, scarier. It’s voice was deep and vibrated through Peter’s body in a way that should have been terrifying. Especially when the creature just picked him up and wrapped him with it’s body, continuously making those noises, it’s body against Peter’s face vibrating as well.

But he felt soothed again, strangely enough.

He woke up again and looked at the clock.

It was barely 3am but he knew he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep.

~*~

This was getting annoying and he had to find out what was going on. Those dreams had to mean something. He probably should pay Deaton a visit and ask him if he knew what might be wrong with him. Not an idea he had much love for, Deaton was one of the most irritating people Peter had to deal with, but he was the family emissary after all.

That day when he was having lunch with Chris and Victoria again he actually was so tired he dozed off, leaning against the tree they were sitting under.

He was in a different room. It was bright, with happy colors and a huge surface with vegetables on it. Those vegetables looked huge compared to what Peter was used to though.

He waved his arms around, just as uncoordinated as he had moved the other times. He was in another kind of confinement though, wood and plastic that held him snuggly around the waist.

He looked at his own hand.

It was misshapen, with a big palm and short, stubby fingers, it looked swollen but didn’t hurt, it looked almost the same as the chubby little hands and fingers of his niece Cora…

Peter breathed in sharply and started hyperventilating as his eyes flew open.

His heart was pounding hard in his chest and he felt like he couldn’t breath, everything felt blurry and there was a ringing noise in his ears.

He felt hands and heard someone’s voice but couldn’t focus.

All that was burned in his brain was one thought: His soulmate was still a baby.

Every time he felt like he was remotely calming down a new wave of panic swept him away until he finally lost consciousness when someone gave him an injection with supernatural tranquilizers.

~*~

He woke up in a hospital bed.

His sister was sitting at his bed, Chris was standing next to her.

Victoria wasn’t there and he appreciated that.

Talia reached out for his hand and cleared her throat.

“Hi…” her voice was unusually soft, she was a very resolute person for the most part. Loving in her own way, but not very gentle usually.

“The doctor said you had an intense panic attack. The guy in the ambulance sedated you because he was scared you might wolf out.”

Chris cleared his throat “I tried to tell him you wouldn’t but…but like your sister said, he was scared.”

Peter nodded. He didn’t like the way some people treated werewolves but that was the least of his problems right now.

His sister squeezed his hand a bit.

“Do you have any idea what caused the panic attack?”

He stared at his hand in hers and then at the ceiling. He nodded and felt a flashback to the moment he had realized it.

It all made sense. The strange proportions, the difficulty to understand anything but emphatically catch on what was communicated, the need based thinking, the uncoordinated movements.

He sighed deeply, aware his sister and friend waited for an answer.

“I had strange dreams for the last few days…this afternoon I realized…”

He swallowed, hard, trying to force the words out.

This didn’t mean he did something wrong, it didn’t mean he was destined to do something wrong. It just meant it might take at least two more decades for him to ever be able to even consider finding out who his soulmate was. Because he sure didn’t want to know them as a child or see them grow up. That’d be just so weird.

“What is it?”

Talia looked confused, concerned, she was probably going through all the possible things that could have caused such an intense reaction.

He took a deep breath and released it, shaking a little before licking his dry lips to find the words again.

“I realized I was dreaming of my soulmate. Who happens to still be an…an infant.”

He had almost choked on the last word and stared at the ceiling again.

The terror of the idea was wearing off and what was left was anger. He was so angry at the universe for fucking with him like that.

Talia and Chris didn’t say anything but eventually Talia actually hugged him and he knew that was what he had needed. Someone to confirm he wasn’t a monster for being destined to a child.

For the next three days he refused to sleep while Deaton was trying to figure out a way to block the transmission of their bond. Deaton, Talia and Chris had tried reasoning with him, tried to make him reconsider this action.

He had not yielded one bit. The idea to see someone he was supposed to fall in love with and maybe even desire physically at some point grow up from baby age to kindergarten, preschool and beyond was horrific. He did not want to be able to remember a child when looking at his soulmate some day in the future.

To Peter’s surprise it was actually Laura, who supported his decision.

She had just recently started dreaming of her soulmate and said she couldn’t imagine finding out it was a child, never mind a baby.

He had to admit she had been the last person he had expected to be compassionate about his situation. She was usually rather mean spirited towards him. Granted, she was a teenager and he had been pretty despicable too when he had been her age.

In the end Deaton found something. It wasn’t perfect, it would only dampen the connection but it was better than nothing.

It was a sigil, placed on Peter’s neck, shielding his conscience from most images that would be transmitted. All that would get through to him were feelings - for the most part.

Deaton had also insisted on making it so the sigil would break as soon as Peter’s soulmate started dreaming of Peter as well.

And Peter supposed he was ok with that.

~*~

Years went by. Peter tried to continue his life as it had been before.

The knowledge he had a soulmate somewhere out there was strange.

The knowledge said soulmate was likely currently learning how to read and write was stranger and a big part of why he usually stayed away from thinking about it too much.

Roughly eight years went by before things started to change.

What changed were the emotions transmitted. It had been basic emotions so far, things any person might go through at times. But they were getting darker. Very dark.

When Peter dreamed now it was of fear and grief and pain, loneliness, but not because he wasn’t in company, no loneliness because he felt neglected and ignored and left alone with his feelings.

It got so intense in the next year he finally found himself at Deaton’s feet, sobbing, begging for him to take the sigil away. He needed to know! He needed to know who his soulmate was. It didn’t matter what his feelings were he needed to know who his soulmate was to help them, to take care of them, to make them feel held and loved and taken care of.

Deaton might have understood Peter’s peril, or maybe not, you could never be sure with him, but he explained to Peter that no one could break the sigil now.

It drove Peter almost insane, he hated himself for the rash decision he had made.

Now he had to witness his soulmates suffering every night, knowing it meant his soulmate, a child, was awake every night, being scared, being deeply sad and lonely.

His sister suggested therapy, Peter chose to drown himself in work.

He started to take on jobs other packs asked him to do.

He could have become a teacher for philosophy and ethics but being a fixer felt better, made him feel less helpless, numbed the pain.

He also became more isolated again.

Which was why he didn’t realize Chris’ psychotic sister was playing with his nephew.

He only realized his mistake when he was trying to drag his dying body out of their burning home.

~*~

Four years.

It took another four years until he was suddenly pulled out of the agony of his maddening comatose condition by a dream.

Not a vague feeling but an actual dream.

He was sitting in school, fidgeting with a pencil, gnawing on it while staring a the back of another person’s head.

He heard a voice next to him say “Stiles, buddy, help me!” and turned his head to see a teenage boy with a slightly crooked chin, a hopeful smile and very intense puppy dog eyes.

“Sure thing Scotty” he heard himself say in the awful tone of someone whose voice was breaking.

When he woke up again he knew what this meant, his soulmate had started dreaming of him.

Not ideal in any way. Of all the things that might happen Peter had not anticipated being in a vegetative state when their connection was revived.

But at least it helped him think more clearly. It was if nothing else, a change of pace.

~*~

It took almost two more years for Stiles to walk into Peter’s room.

When he did Peter could not see him, but hear and smell him.

He had never smelled Stiles before, and never heard his heartbeat before and yet he recognized both immediately.

When Stiles approaches and hesitantly places his hand in his Peter feels his heart speed up.

But his heart isn’t the only thing.

To his surprise his healing is jolted awake as well.

It is amazing how little it takes.

Just that tiny contact, that connection of someone is all it needed for his wolf to find the strength to heal.

He blinks and turns his head just a little bit.

For the first time he can see Stiles’ face, the face of his soulmate.

Smart, snarky, chaotic, beautiful Stiles.

The nurse, Jennifer, comes in and clears her throat.

“What are you doing here? Out. Immediately!”

Peter tightens his fingers around Stiles’ and holds him back as the teenager wants to follow the order.

The nurse gasps in surprise at Peter being able to move and he tries to speak.

It has been a long time but he manages one word.

“Stay”

Stiles stares back at him, then to the nurse for a short moment before he nods and sits down in the chair next to Peter’s bed.

The nurse tries to protest but Stiles silences her with a simple sentence.

“He is my soulmate.”

#teen wolf #steter #soulmate au #panic attack #dreaming #angst #my stuff

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gukiex · 7 years

Text

Crushed Velvet Ch. 2

Genre: Vampire AU, Angst, Smut, Supernatural, Slight Fluff

Paring: Skylar x Jimin, Skylar x Yoongi, Skylar x Taehyung, Skylar x OT7

Word Count: 5.2k

Summary: When is a monster no longer a monster? When you fall in love with it of course.

Chapters: 1

"What the fuck are you doing with a human girl Jimin? And why does she smell like that?”

The frustration in his voice was evident. Yoongi had an intense gaze set upon the poorly dressed young woman, devouring every single part of her with his mesmerizing eclipsed violet eyes. This caused a feeling of consternation to course through her body like electricity forcing her to stay frozen in her tracks. The tantalizing male, who looked as if he were some type of nobility, was capable of creating a completely contradicting feeling within Sky to stir. She was udderly terrified by him, although she couldn’t place her finger on why considering she wasn’t nearly as intimidated by Jimin or his protégés—even after almost being consumed by Taehyung. However, even with the fear that Yoongi invoked, she was incredibly drawn to him and couldn’t help but ogle at the sight.

“We can discuss all of this over a glass of wine, how does that sound? I have a beautifully aged Domaine de la Romanée-Conti just waiting to be opened.” Jimin offered swiftly.

“I’m not one of your little toys that you can just win over with some wine and sweet talk but I will take you up on the offer. You have a couple of hours to explain to me what the hell is going on and why you’ve kept me ill informed. I swear you have a death wish, Park Jimin.”

Jimin was incredibly smooth. The way he spoke, the way he dressed, he had the vibe of a classy english man from the eighteen hundreds. Even the way he walked with such confidence and sex-appeal, made Sky exasperated with him simply because she didn’t want to give in to the temptation of vampires. This is what they were designed for after all; seduction and allurement. It was something that she wanted to restrain from. She had so many thoughts running through her head right now, especially after witnessing the rage directed at her presence that came from the most hostile yet beautiful creature she had ever laid eyes upon. Frustrated by her conflicted feelings, Sky turned around and closed her bedroom door, making sure to lock it behind her before crawling into bed and shutting her tired eyes for a well deserved rest. Even a short sleep where she could get a brief escape from the evening’s chaos would be better than nothing. Sky forcefully shut her eyes, coaxing herself to sleep, attempting to separate herself from her external environment.

Just as her body began to relax she heard a familiar voice sounding from the closet.

“Damn Sky, you look awfully delicious in that nightie of yours. Mind if I get a closer look?”

Rattled, Sky hopped out of bed and flicked a lamp on only to see Taehyung standing in the frame of the closet with a smug grin on his face.

“Tae, I swear to satan if you try anything I'm going to scream for Jimin to get in here and kick your bloodsucking ass.”

“Why not just scream for me instead?” Tae mused can crossing his arms against his broad chest as he leaned nonchalantly against the closest frame.

“You’re disgusting." Sky scoffed, "How long have you been in here anyway?”

Unaffected by the girls jab, Taehyung continued on with his bashful commentary. “Long enough to see you slip into that sexy little nightdress you're wearing and to see the way Jimin touched your back. Before you get all comfortable here there are some things that you should know about our ‘courteous’ leader.” Taehyung warned and Sky knew she should hear him out but she wanted to give the elder vampire the benefit of the doubt.

“I’m sure I'll find out in due time but right now I'd like you to get the fuck out of my room, I'd prefer to sleep peacefully without feeling like I'm either going to have your fangs in my throat or something somewhere else when I wake up. Goodnight.”

Her hand grabbed the taunting young man by the shoulders and forced him out of the bedroom with blunt force. He giggled at how bold she was getting even after the incident outside of the bar, this comfortability made him admire her a little bit more. Taehyung was beginning to feel things that weren't associated with his normal overbearing hunger, causing him to experience a whirlpool of feelings about the entire reality of having her around.

Meanwhile the two rival vampires were sitting in the common room discussing the series of events that had taken place.

“So what would you like to discuss, Yoongi?” Jimin asked, peering over the rim of his wine glass before taking a sip of the bitter substance.

“Can you not play dumb? Can we start with Jungkook and what you're going to do about his control? And don't get me started on Taehyung, he needs to give up that goddamn attitude and reckless behaviours he has, he's like a child searching for attention.”

“Well firstly, Jungkook is only a newblood, I'm sure you remember what it was like when you first transitioned Yoongi. Its hard but he knows when he does something wrong. You need to be patient with him, if not he's going to retaliate and it could be incredibly dangerous for all of us.”

“And Taehyung? He seems to be the chaotic driving force in all of this and he's an instigator. Jungkook wouldn't have half of the trouble if that little shit wasn't pushing him. And where exactly are you during all of these excursions those boys have? Actually let me guess, probably fucking some slut unworthy of our time.”

“Do you actually expect me to follow those two everywhere? That's simply not going to happen and there's no one else who can look after them. You have to take into consideration that Tae doesn't know his bloodline, doesn't know why he's here and doesn't know who he is. At least the rest of us are aware of our comings, I don't exactly blame him for his actions.”

“And what about the little tramp you have in the room upstairs? Is she just another casual fuck for you to toy with? I'd love to know all about that scent she’s putting off.”

“Well honestly Yoongi I can't answer that which is why she's here. What I do know is that she has to be involved with vampires, maybe even have some kind of history with us. She smells of virgin but it's something stronger, it's intertwined with the scent of a newblood or even a hybrid. It's not purely human and I need answers.”

“Well until you get those answers, don't bring her around me. Figure out what you have to but I want absolutely nothing to do with such filth. And as for those two boys, get them under control. If you fail, then I'm going to take them both and discipline them myself.”

“You must be forgetting a vital piece of the puzzle Yoongi, Jungkook is mine. I turned him and now he's bonded to me. This automatically makes Tae a part of the equation as well since those two come in a pair. If you so much as dare lay a hand on either of them, I swear I will end you.”

After the heated conversation between the two men concluded, Yoongi stood from his chair, sipping back the last of the wine before storming away. He stopped in the doorway and looked over his shoulder, glancing at the room where Skylar was peacefully dreaming. He could hear her deep breaths and the pulsating of her heart. The scathing immortal felt an unfamiliar feeling sweep over him, it was a tranquility that made him incredibly uneasy. He followed through with exiting the estate but the image of this young woman became ensnared in his reverie.

“Come on Sky, get your lazy ass out of bed we’re going on an adventure.” Taehyung said as he charged through the doors of the sleeping woman’s room.

“Didn’t I lock this door?” It wasn’t so much of a question as it was a statement, rubbing her eyes at the light that was now attacking her retinas. Sky was filled with annoyance at this dammed boy who just couldn't seem to give her any privacy.

“Oh babe, a locked door means absolutely nothing in a house full of vamps, so learn to love it.”

She audibly sighed and glanced up at the young man. He looked— normal? His hair was slightly dishevelled and he was dressed like a casual guy in his twenty’s. His distressed dark wash jeans were rolled at the ankles, accented with his cherry red Doc Martens while sporting a basic white v-neck tee. Her eyes fixed on his form, she could visibly see through the white material as he stood in the direct morning light that casted though the large window in her room. The way he looked right now; so normal, so alive, it made her attentiveness wander to the way he pressed his lips against hers a couple of nights ago. She shook herself out of it, tightly shutting her eyes and and grabbing her large-framed glasses and placing them on her face.

“Alright Bilbo what adventure are we going on today then?”

The fact that she agreed to his plans for the day got the man incredibly excited. He hopped on the bed next to Sky causing her to jump up in surprise at his swiftness.

“We’re going cliff-diving. It’s absolutely beautiful outside today and it’ll be fun. I can show you one of the best views in South Korea, its about a thirty minute hike from here and you’ll love it. Hey, you can take your camera for your blog!”

She was confused as to why he was being so ordinary with her, wondering if he genuinely wanted to spend time with her or if it was a ploy to get her alone in order to finish what he started when they first met last week. She quickly brushed that idea to the side, she knew that Jimin would most likely kill him if he were to try and feed on her. Regardless of that possibility she loved swimming and it would be a perfect article for her blog and there could potentially be some fantastic shots of the scenery here.

Sky climbed out of bed and prompted Tae to leave so she could get ready for the day. Luckily, Jimin was courteous enough to let her grab her suitcase from the hotel before taking off so she had everything she’d need. The eager young woman picked out her favourite hiking clothing and quickly threw it on. Unfortunately a bathing suit wasn’t something she had remembered to pack so she’d have to jump in clothed but that didn’t matter much to her. She sauntered into her ensuite bathroom to wash up and throw on some makeup. She looked at herself in the mirror intently, looking at every flaw with great concentration. Grabbing her makeup bag, she pulled out her foundation applying to every area precisely to conceal what she was so focused on. There was a faint sound of bedsprings squeaking in the room so she peered out of the bathroom door only to see Jimin sitting there with his legs crossed, smiling his beautiful smile directly at her.

‘Why are all these fucking vampires so goddamn sexy’ she thought to herself as she caught herself eyeballing the princely leader. She redirected her attention and smiled her half-smile at the man who was quite comfortable on her bed.

“Well good morning beautiful, did you sleep well? I know Taehyung has been quite bothersome but honestly that boy just enjoys fooling around and truthfully, I think he’s just trying to get a rise out of you. But listen, if he becomes too overbearing I need you to let me know because I’ll handle it for you okay sweetheart?”

“What did I say about pet names?” Sky replied in annoyance.

“Sorry, force of habit. Most of the women I take home love being called affectionate names, it’s proven to be incredibly popular.”

“So you’re basically trying to get me into bed by calling me generic names? How on earth do you get so many girls to fuck with you?”

“The words that are coming out of your mouth are far too vulgar for a girl like you to be uttering. Stop using such profanity or I’ll give you a reason to.”

“Oh no, Jimin’s going to punish me. I’m trembling.” Her response was incredibly sharp and it actually got to Jimin which is a rare feat.

“You’re starting to sound exactly like Taehyung and I definitely don’t need another one of those around. Why are you all dressed and carrying a backpack? Where are you heading.”

“Well actually, Taehyung and I are going cliff diving today and it’s a short hike so I needed to be prepared. I’m really excited, is the view really that beautiful?”

“You’re going into the woods alone with him? That’s not very clever of you don't you realize it's the perfect place for him to feed? Also, aren’t you nervous of him? I could just take you out somewhere nice if you wanted? We could go get a meal at one of the best restaurants or maybe take in a show?”

“Tae doesn’t scare me, honestly I’m actually beginning to tolerate his company. Plus he likes adventures, as do I, so we can get along in that aspect. And I think he genuinely fears what you’d do to him if he tried anything with me so it will be fine.”

“Alright, well just be careful ok? But I’d still like to schedule some time with you, I know little to nothing about the beautiful Sky so it’d be nice to get better acquainted.”

Jimin stood up and straightened out his grey pullover sweater. It was astonishing how attractive these creatures became to Sky when they dressed more and more casually. She couldn’t help but feel as if they were a group of young college guys that she shared a building with. They were just so desirable but little did she know they all thought the exact same thing about her.

The eldest vampire bid his farewells to his estates new occupant as he exited the bedroom, a concealed frustration on his alluring face. He hated how acquainted she was getting with Taehyung and it sparked a jealousy within him. Jimin was possessive, he didn’t fussy either of the boys developing a relationship of any sort with the girls he brought home -- even if they were just a simple fuck. When Sky mentioned her endeavours for the day every single one of his insides twisted. The only thing he wanted to do was grab her by her soft curves, throw her underneath him and show her which suitor she should really invest her time in. Only It just wasn’t quite the time do something like that just yet. He swallowed his burning desire and continued to walk out of the oblivious young woman’s room. The princely creature swept his hair back from his eyes, he was overwhelmed with lust and jealousy due to his dominant nature but he decided to brush those feelings aside for the time being.

“Hey, move your ass! Aren’t vampires supposed to be quick on their feet?” Sky taunted the immortal who was following behind her up the cliff.

“Oh we are, but I prefer the view from behind much better.” He responded with a snarky grin before swiftly joining her side which startled her, causing her to trip as strong hands held her steady.

Skylar looked up at Tae’s face. It looked so beautiful in the the sunlight and this was the first time she’d really gotten to take in his features up close and for once there was absolutely nothing threatening about it. He simply looked like a gorgeous young man, someone that girls would swoon over and would vote as the ‘best looking’ in high school. His eyes were bright and lively today while his silver hair reflected the warmth of the sun, making it shift to a slightly softer shade as opposed to the icy appearance it normally had. Everything about him made her want to lean her face in closer to his but she opted to pull away and steady herself, continuing the hike to find their diving spot.

“So are you nervous? It's a long way down babe.”

“Tae stop calling me babe or I'll slap the shit out of you.”

As they approached the top of the cliff, the luscious vegetation that they had been trekking through opened up to display a beautiful sight of the sun’s mirrored image on the serene waters in front of them. In awe, Sky pulled out her camera and got a few shots while Tae was observing her discretely. He started to remove his shift, exposing his toned form, pale skin looking soft in the heat and he smiled at Sky, prompting her to shed her own clothing and get ready for their leap from the cliff.

“I don’t have a bathing suit so I’m gunna have to jump in with my clothes on, does it get very cold as the day goes on?”

“Do you plan on walking all the way back in dripping wet clothing? Keep in mind we forgot our towels to dry you off. You could catch a cold. Are you sure you wanna do this?”

‘Fuck it’ she thought to herself as she unbuttoned her jeans and pulled them off, exposing her black embroidered boy-short underwear. Tae’s eyes opened widely in surprise at her boldness before he broke out into laughter.

“Oh my god Sky, I knew you weren’t like most girls but really? You don’t even own a sexy pair of underwear.”

“Shut up Tae, they have lace and embroidery on them, plus they’re crazy comfy. Sorry I’m not exposing my asscheeks to you.” She snapped back as she grabbed at the hem of her shirt, lifting it over her head as the ‘young’ man ogled at her black lacy bra. When Sky threw her shirt to the ground she noticed him staring and wrapped her arms around her stomach.

“Can you please not look at me like that, it makes me very uncomfortable.”

“I know that we had an interesting start Sky but I’m not going to hurt you or do anything that would upset you, I promise. I’m actually quite fond of you. You’re lovely, don’t hide away from me.”

He walked up to her looking at her intently. There was a connection between the two, it was something that was evident almost instantly after she moved into the estate, so naturally the two had a sense of familiarity right away. He grabbed her and threw her on his back, her arms wrapped around his shoulders and legs secure around his hips as he held her tightly. He started walking towards the edge of the cliff and slowly began to quicken his pace into a run. As they approached the fall, Sky shut her eyes tightly.

“Sky you need to look, you’re going to miss the view.”

As she opened her eyes he leaped from the cliff, falling towards the crystal clear water. A smile lit up on the young woman who was purely intoxicated with adrenaline and excitement. She was experiencing a rush that she’d never felt in all of her twenty years of living. It was like an out-of-body notion that felt electric.

The pair entered the chilled water smoothly, not interrupting its serenity too much. She let go of Tae and began to swim to the surface. When Sky emerged she didn’t see the boy and got incredibly concerned, looking around frantically until he popped up directly behind her, making her yelp as he had frightened her.

“For christ’s sake, don’t scare me like that, I thought you had drowned or something.”

“Sky… are you forgetting what I am? We don’t ‘drown’.”

“Right, oops. I have trouble remembering that you’re not just some twenty-year old fuckboy that I’m used to dealing with.”

“To say the least.” He giggled at her oblivious nature. It was endearing to him.

The handsome vampire grabbed her by the hand and swam back to shore, climbing out of the water. She couldn’t stop staring at him, dripping wet as the light perfectly highlighted the contours of his torso. He swept his hair out of his eyes, revealing the entirety of his gorgeous face. What she failed to notice, due to her focus on him, was that he was focusing on her just as much. He couldn’t help but stare at every curve of her body, she was flawless and he felt a rush of desire surge through him, it was a feeling he was never able to distinguish as he had never partaken in sexual activities prior. He had always confused lust with hunger but right now he knew exactly what needed.

Sky similarly felt magnetized to him. She enjoyed his company, looking at him, but she didn’t feel an emotional attraction to him. However, she did feel a powerful sense of lustfulness towards the immortal, a feeling she’d felt for many men but never this intense. The two exchanged a poker face when in reality they were both mentally fucking one another. Sky decided to brush it off and start climbing towards where she’d left her things and Taehyung followed, both ignoring the moment they just had at the edge of the water. They got to the top of the cliff once again and Tae grabbed her shirt from the ground tossing it over his shoulder.

“I think I like you better shirtless.”

“Are we really doing this right now, can I just get dressed please.” Sky was annoyed with him, not only for taking her shirt but because of the sexual frustration this man was causing her to have.

“If you want it I suggest you come get it.” he replied as she took off with her shirt down into the trails.

Sky immediately chased after him through the pathways in the trees until she suddenly lost sight of the boy when he turned off the trail. She wouldn’t dare follow any further as she knew she’d end up getting lost. The disoriented girl stood there for a moment as she got her bearings back.

“Tae, please come here with my shirt. I don’t know my way back.” She tried to sound calm, but in reality she was feeling a sense of fear sweep over her as she realised her situation.

“Are you afraid?” She heard Tae’s voice whisper from the trees.

“You said you wouldn’t do anything to upset me, well you are right now.”

“So you are afraid. As you should be considering what I’m about to do to you.”

As he emerged from the trees he walked towards the frightened girl, watching her face warp in distress. She didn’t know what to expect from him, she just stood there paralyzed.

“I promised I wouldn’t hurt you and if there‘s one thing you should know about me it’s that I keep all of my promises.”

He reassured her as he grabbed her by the waist and planted an aggressive kiss onto her soft lips, pressing her against a large tree as his body pressed into hers. She reciprocated the kiss and moaned softly into his mouth. Every ounce of distress she was experiencing escaped her body as she felt his strong hands on her hips. The kisses began to deepen and quicken as both tongues fought for dominance. Tae bit down on her bottom lip and stared directly into her eyes causing her body to flare up and her cheeks to turn bright red as she realized that the pair were still only wearing dripping wet underwear. There was very little fabric separating the two bodies from intertwining with each other and she wanted to remove that barrier.

Sky lifted her hands to unclasp her bra as he slapped them away, ripping the bra clean off of her chest. Taehyung trailed his aggressive kisses down to her soft breasts, leaving his mark wherever he felt it necessary as he attacked her chest. Sky gripped her fingers into his messy wet hair as he trailed even lower to her waist, gripping the sides of her boyshort underwear and pulling them to the ground. Tae lifted one of her legs over his shoulder to create better access.

“Fuck Sky, you’re so wet.”

Before she could respond she was cut off by the sensation of the his tongue pressing against her little bundle of nerves, sending her into euphoria. She tipped her head back against the tree as Tae inserted a finger inside of her as he continued to circle her clit with his tongue. He began creating a ‘come hither’ motion with his digit inside of her, hitting her g-spot repeatedly. She was moaning so loudly at this point that she was nearly screaming as she felt her walls start to tighten around his fingers.

“Tae don’t stop, I’m gonna cum.” she said between shaky breaths.

“Not yet you’re not.” he said before pulling his finger out and standing up to face her. He licked her juices off of it while keeping eye contact with her the whole time. This made her even more red than she already was from the pleasure she had just experienced.

The immortal young man gripped at his boxer shorts, pulling them down as his hard member was released from it’s uncomfortable confinement. He grabbed both of her thighs, picking her up and she wrapped her legs around his body. Tae positioned himself at her entrance and looked at her for approval. Sky nodded in agreement and he thrusted into her. Her eyes welled up at the initial pain she felt from having Taehyung inside of her. He held himself there for a moment until she had adjusted to his size before slowly rolling his hips against hers, replacing the pain she had felt with pure ecstasy.

“Sky you’re so tight, you feel so good around my cock.”

She gripped at his shoulders for support as the animalistic thrusts became quicker and harder, making her scream his name in pleasure. You would never guess that these two had both been virgin’s prior considering how amazing they could make each other feel. It were as if Tae had been possessed by some sex god with how precise his movements were. That was until the faint scent of blood passed his nose.

He knew the scent was coming from Sky and it took everything in him not to give in to the aroma. He continued fucking her against the tree while the scent lingered in the air, making the beast inside of him break out. He began circling her clit with his finger to quicken her orgasm as he continued pressing himself into her. His thrusts became sloppy as he got closer to his orgasm and he felt her walls tightening around his member as well.

“Cum for me Sky. I give you permission.”

As he whispered into her ear, her vision blurred and she felt herself escape from her body as she rode out her orgasm while he filled her with his warmth. When he pulled his finger away from her folds, he seen the crimson color that coated it. Skylar was oblivious to what had happened and he quickly had to do something about it. He pulled out of her and got on his knees to clean her up. He wanted to save her from embarrassment, he didn’t want to make losing her virginity even worse and he also needed to do something about the blood. He kept his composure and using his tongue, cleaned away everything, including the blood. His hunger nearly took over and he would’ve torn her apart, but there was something preventing him from doing that. He couldn’t bear to hurt her, plus he made a promise. A promise that he intended to keep.

When he finished getting rid of the mess he laid back on the grass, grabbing sky to lay next to him. The duo relaxed in silence as they caught their breath and stared at the clouds.

“Well now I don’t have a bra to wear home, thank you for that.”

“Bra’s are lame anyway.”

Sky giggled at him, she sat up and grabbed her boyshorts to put on and threw his boxers on his chest.

“We should go get our things, the sun will start to set soon and I fear Jimin may get worried.”

Taehyung was concerned as to why she cared about Jimin but he didn’t question it. She reached down and grabbed him by the hand, pulling him to his feet so they could head to the opening where their stuff was in order to get dressed and head back to the house. Taehyung couldn’t stop looking at her, even after what just occurred in the woods they were the same. There was no tension, no awkwardness, nothing had changed. It felt as if it was something that they just do, it didn’t mean anything and there were no strings attached and he loved the idea of fucking her whenever they felt like it without anything involved. Sky had the exact same notion and was incredibly pleased with the idea of having Tae whenever she wanted it.

“Hey Jimin, we’re home! Tae didn’t kill me luckily.”

As the two entered the front doors with Tae’s arm draped over the dishevelled girls shoulder, Jimin and Jungkook smelled something strange coming from them both. It was the scent of sex, the scent of someone being fucked. Jimin filled with rage while Jungkook; a sense of curiosity. Sky wandered up to her room to take a long bath while Tae stayed in the common room with the other vampires.

“You fucked her didn’t you? How much compelling did you have to do? Or did you just rape her?” Jimin snarled at his protégé.

“Don’t you ever accuse me of raping her Jimin. I may be impulsive and reckless but I’d never hurt Sky, shes the only other person around besides JK that I actually enjoy the company of.”

“Yeah well I know damn well she didn’t let you inside of her that easily. Was it consensual?”

“Yes.”

Jimin walked over to the liquor cupboard, grabbed a bottle of whisky and stormed to his quarters, slamming the door in anger.

“I think you struck a nerve in the boss, Tae.”

“That’s something I have a knack for apparently. Jungkook, why do you think he’s so angry?”

“Well honestly I think he wanted to take her virginity, he brings women home all the time for a good fuck but rarely are they ever virgins. Plus she’s kind of part of the family now considering how much she knows about us. She lives with us for God’s sake.”

“He’ll get over it.”

Skylar was drawing up her bath when she heard the door to her room shut. She turned around to see a flustered Jimin staring at her with anger in his eyes while she was simply wrapped in a towel. Jumping up, she held her towel in place so that it wouldn’t fall from her sudden movement, exposing her to the intimidating man that was glaring at her. He walked up to her and kept walking until her back was against the wall of the bathroom. He slammed his hand against the wall, his face just inches from hers.

“Let’s have dinner tomorrow night.”

Her eyes widened at his proposition considering how aggressive he had appeared just moments ago. Now he was asking for… a date?

“I’m not going on a date with you Jimin.”

“I never said it was a date, I just want to spend some time with you, let’s go get sushi tomorrow.”

“You eat human food?”

“I eat fish but that’s it. So what do you say?”

“Fine, but it’s not a date.”

His face lit up as he flashed his enchanting smile at her before leaning in to whisper in her ear.

“Now turn the bath water off before you make a mess and I’d have to punish you.”

The water was about half of an inch away from the rim so she lunged over to the faucet to turn it off, and when she turned around the vamp was gone. Sky sighed in frustration and dropped her towel to the floor, climbing into the hot water.

What have I gotten myself into...

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