#starts beating up my neighbours in pure frustration

[goldie-claws]

pain agony violence over my AGGRAVATING constant tiredness yet I’m still somehow an insomniac who always wakes up at 3-4 am I’m gonna start punching people

#goldie speaks #starts beating up my neighbours in pure frustration #im like a small kitten with so much rage in my little body #this close to becoming a coffee addict to get rid of the tiredness

[nctsworld]

fire alarm

✩ mark x reader | college au | fluff | 1.7k 

SUMMARY ⇾ when your dorm building’s fire alarm goes off in the middle of the night and everyone’s outside, you offer to share your blanket with your shivering, cute neighbour. WARNINGS ⇾ fluff, couple of swear words RATING ⇾ teen+ 

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!

You started to drift into deep sleep when the sudden blares of the dorm’s fire alarm stirs you awake. 

Your groans are muffled in your pillow, frustrated that this is probably another false alarm like usual. With heavy eyes, you rush to grab your phone and keys, stuff your feet into your shoes, and waddle among the crowd of students, departing the building with your blanket over your shoulders as a make-shift jacket.   

The moment you reach the front of the building where everyone safely coalesces, you glance at your phone as you tug at the ends of your blanket around your chest. 3:08am glows back at you, along with a couple other notifications. You barely get the chance to check them since the blatant chattering of teeth nearby catches your attention instead. 

Your gaze rests on the familiar figure a few steps beside you, rubbing his arms up and down while his legs tremble. Peering around, you realize you’re one of the few who brought more than a jacket for extra warmth during this chill, autumn night. On the other hand, he’s one of the few who hardly had any layers, solely wearing a baggy red t-shirt and a pair of boxers. 

His face swivels side to side, searching the crowd, and it dawns on you that it’s none other than your next door neighbour, Mark. 

His dorm room was to the left of yours. You’ve only interacted with him in passing, regularly acknowledging each other with casual nods and smiles. His sweet smile never failed to make your heart race and to make the corners of your mouth widen further. You didn’t know much about him, except for the fact he played guitar since you occasionally heard him play late at night. 

You always wanted to get to know him, but neither of you shared the same classes nor were you in the same clubs. To make matters worse, the only time you saw one another was when either of you were coming or going.

Perhaps now was the time to finally make a move. 

Lifting your blanket off the pavement, you shuffle your way towards him. As you near him, it clicks in your head that you didn’t initially recognize him because, besides the lack of clothes and the slightly messy hair, he’s wearing glasses to boot. 

“Hey, neighbour.”  

Mark stops his searching and his focus lands on you. The handsome individual steps closer to shorten the space between you, displaying his signature smile. You grip onto your blanket tighter and the weight of your shoulders droop, allowing your face to shyly sink into the sea of fabric covering you. 

The shivering man says your name and replies with a cool, “Hey.” 

“Do you want to share the blanket with me?” 

“Oh, no. It’s okay, I’m all right,” he stammers with a shake of his head, continuing to rub his arms.  

You perk an eyebrow and open one of your arms out, offering him the promise of warmth. 

Beaming, you say, “There’s enough room for another.”

His mouth twists to one side of his face, the gears in his head obviously turning. 

“Are you sure?”       

A hum, nod, and a grin answer his uncertainty. Mark swiftly grasps onto the end of the blanket and wraps himself over his shoulder. Although the heat from the front of your body flees due to the partial sacrifice of your cover, you’re now having an extra source of heat from being right next to Mark, touching shoulder to shoulder. 

“Thanks,” he bobs his head. “I appreciate it. I just bolted out of bed and didn’t think of even bringing a jacket.” 

“That’s okay, that’s why you have me,” you joke, swaying and pressing your shoulder lightly against his. 

Both of you chuckle softly. There’s something else to add to the list of things that are keeping you warm—the prickling rising from your chest to your cheeks. 

You then comment, “I’ve never seen you with glasses before. I almost didn’t recognize you.” 

“Ah, yeah, I wear contacts during the day. Depending on stuff, I sometimes wear my glasses, but not as often.” 

“Well, I think you look good either way.” 

Your eyes practically fall and roll away from your head, cognizant of the words that just escaped your mouth. 

“I mean—” You snap your eyes shut for an extended beat, not wanting to see the look on your next door crush’s face. “You know what, let’s just pretend I didn’t say that out loud.” 

Exhaling a lengthy sigh, you turn to face the opposite direction, now regretting your offer to share your blanket with him. 

Your regret leads you to miss the way his face lights up. 

“Hey, no, thanks for the compliment.” 

Under the blanket, his fingers gingerly graze over yours for a fleeting moment, which causes you to shift your head towards him again. The tips of your noses are almost touching. His twinkling eyes are locked on you, but yours are veering everywhere else except on him. 

“If it makes you feel any better, I think you look good too.” 

With that, your gaze finally lands on Mark.  

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

You want to continue the conversation, you really do, but you’re at a loss of words and are too busy getting lost in the galaxy of his eyes from up-close. From the way he’s not tearing his eyes away either, a little part of you wonders if he harbours an infatuation with you as well. He couldn’t possibly, right? 

Despite being practically strangers, the silent, intense aura blooms as time passes. Your respective breaths brush against each other’s lips and it’d be so easy to just lean in to meet the other’s—

Suddenly, the tension is cut short as everyone begins to sluggishly amble their way back into the building. 

Although nothing really transpired, you break apart simultaneously like someone caught you two doing something you shouldn’t. Mark lets you have your blanket all to yourself once more and both of you head back side by side in comfortable silence.  

After walking up the flight of stairs, trailing behind all the other residents of the building, you finally reach your respective doors. 

“It was nice to see you,” you say, pulling your keys out and inserting the fitting one into your lock. 

“Yeah, thanks for sharing your blanket with me. I really appreciate it.” 

“Anytime, neighbour,” you glance up at him from your hand. His whole body faces you and his mouth is agape like he’s itching to say something. On second thought, he presses his lips together and feels around his body for his keys. Realization hits him in the face. 

“Shit,” he bangs his forehead against the door, deterring you from entering your home abode. “I forgot my keys inside.” 

Mark turns to you with a scrunched face. Even in a state of frustration, how could someone be so cute? “Sorry to ask, but can I borrow your phone?” 

“Oh, yeah. Of course.” You don’t hesitate to scramble and hand it over to him. 

He mumbles a quick thanks, rubbing the back of his head. When he finishes entering a number to dial-in, he holds the phone against his ear and leans the side of head against his door, still facing you. You stand there awkwardly, eyes wavering between the adorable phone borrower and the handful of people in the hallway trickling back into their dorms. 

After the third unanswered ring, a bold offer impulsively escapes your lips.  

“You know, you can stay at my place overnight if you need to.” 

Oh, no. Shit. Why brain, why?

You don’t register your brazenness until the fifth ring, when Mark’s jaw is hanging and his eyebrows are glued to the ceiling. Okay, maybe you can save the moment by saying it was a joke or—

“Hello?” you overhear a muffled grumble on the other end. 

The shock dissolves away from his face. “Oh, hey. Sorry to wake you, Johnny. It’s Mark…” 

Utter embarrassment. This time, you can’t save yourself from your impetuous words. Millions of possibilities run through your mind, including abandoning your phone for him to keep and then moving to another building. No, moving to another college. Actually, Mars sounds like an even better idea. 

You’re so deep in your overdramatic thoughts, your face in a pinch behind your blanket, that you don’t even realize Mark’s already done with his call. 

“Thanks.” His voice breaks you away from your thoughts, eyelids shooting open. He must’ve stepped closer while you weren’t looking because he’s now in front of you, dangling your device from his fingertips. You gently grasp the phone, jointly holding it with him. 

“And about your offer…” You cringe, ready for him to ignore your existence until the end of time. You officially ruined everything, and nothing has even happened yet. 

“How about we go on a date first?” 

Your head shoots up at his proposition. Did you hear that right? 

“Then, maybe when the fire alarm goes off again next time and I forget my keys, I’ll take you up on it.”

It could be because it’s almost 4am and you’re teetering on sleep, or you’re purely stricken, but all you could do is nod mindlessly and squeak, “Sure.”    

A heartstopping smile rolls over his face. “I was hoping you’d say that. I took the liberty of adding myself to your contacts and sent a text to my phone.” 

Mark releases your phone from his grip and begins to walk backwards towards the stairs, suppressing his desire to stay with you for a little while more. But, it’s late and it’s not like this was the last time he’d see you. You are neighbours after all. 

Waving, he whisper-shouts in the hallway, “I’ll text you back first thing when I can. Have a good night!” 

You subtly wave back, still huddling your blanket over your shoulders. When he disappears from your line of sight, you enter your room and flop onto your bed with a jubilant sigh. 

Following knocks at his door, a slit-eyed Johnny is welcomed by a vivacious friend. Too vivacious for 4am. 

“Dude, you won’t believe what just happened. Remember that cute neighbour I’ve been telling you about?...” 

Maybe (and thankfully) there wasn’t an actual fire, but another one was certainly beginning to kindle. 

And neither of you had the intention of extinguishing it any time soon. 

#mark #mark lee #mark lee fluff #mark lee scenarios #mark lee imagines #nct #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct scenarios #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 fanfic #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 scenarios #nctcreations #mark x reader #mark lee x reader

[ijustwant2write]

‘It’s also what you want’-Juice Ortiz x Reader

(GIF credit to @redwood-original)

Tags: @amirahiddleston @bloodorangemoonlight @elliexo

Requested by anonymous: 'Can you do a juice or happy imagine where he and the reader(oc) are friends with benefits but the reader wants to be more but he refuses at first. Some angst with a happy ending please!!!! Thank you'

Characters: Juice Ortiz x Reader, Gemma Teller Morrow x Reader (platonic)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Swearing, smut, arguing

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Fuck." I breathed out as I slowly climbed off Juice, collapsing onto the sofa beside him.

He sat there, his breathing as heavy as mine. Our eyes were fixed on the TV that had been on the whole time, but we weren't focusing on the show. I leaned over, kissing him on the cheek before standing up, pulling down my skirt before heading to the kitchen.

"You want something to eat? And I'm talking about actual food." I joked, looking in my fridge.

"I can't stay." I heard him call back, the sound of his belt being buckled following.

"Oh," I made my way back to him,"are you sure? I don't mind, really."

"The club needs me."

"Really? Or is it just an excuse to leave?"

He sighed, pulling on his kutte as he approached me."There's never a good enough excuse to leave you."

He kissed me, and just as I went to deepen it, he pulled away."Then don't go."

"Don't do this (Y/N), we go through it every time."

"Alright, just go then."

He looked me over once more, no smile on his face before leaving. I stayed leaning against the door frame until I heard the door shut. I felt all the happiness from our time together drain from me. I knew it was happen, I was so stupid to get myself in this mess. We had agreed for it to be just friends with benefits, especially due to him being part of the club, but as soon as we made that decision, I knew that I wouldn't be able to keep to it. Juice and I had been friends for only over half a year, but there was undoubtedly chemistry between us. We had always flirted, though before anything can happen, Juice proposed the idea of just fucking... and I was too scared of losing him to say no, like the idiot I was.

I had brought up the idea of us becoming something more, but only once. Juice had been surprised by my proposal, and I immediately regretted it, embarrassed after thinking he would feel the same. We brushed it off as a joke, though both of us knew it would always remain in the back of our minds. I hated saying it, but Juice was the kindest guy I had met, and also so different from the rest of the club. Of course, he liked his women like the others, though I hadn’t seen or heard him going off with anyone besides me. That again gave me hope, but apparently that didn’t mean anything, not to Juice.

"Honestly, it's just getting fucking annoying at this point." Gemma sighed.

We were sat in her office, sat in front of the fan as it was an extremely hot day, sunglasses on even though the blinds were closed.

"Don't I know it." I mumbled back.

"Well, if he's not into it, you might as well start looking for someone else."

When I didn't reply, she took off her sunglasses, head turning to face me.

"You're not going to be any happier if you just sit around and wait for something that might not possibly happen. I'm being cruel to be kind here."

"I know what you're saying. But... I think I'm still too caught up in him to let go just now."

"Give me your phone."

"What? Why?"

I knew better than to argue. Reaching into my pocket, I unlocked my phone and handed it over, watching over her shoulder.

"I was about to download a dating app for you but it seems that you've already beat me to it."

She showed me the screen and the two dating apps I had on there. I turned my head away, trying to ignore her.

"(Y/N), if you've already been looking at other options, doesn't that tell you something?"

"It was purely out of boredom."

"Don't bullshit me. Subconsciously there's a voice in the back of your head telling you to move on and you need to listen to it."

It was frustrating that Gemma was right, especially since I had known that information all along. After Juice leaving so many times straight after we had sex, I had downloaded some apps, hoping that it would convince me that someone out there was willing to be more than what I was to Juice. But just as I had said to Gemma, I did it to pass the time, somehow feeling guilty before I agreed to go on a date, as if I was cheating on Juice. An incredibly stupid thing for me to think.

I remained in Gemma's office, waiting for her to return so we could head out for lunch, but tensing up as I heard Juice call for her. He was making his way here, and I had no where to run. I didn't want to face him, not yet.

"Gemma, do you the files for-oh (Y/N)." Juice froze as he stood in the doorway.

"Gemma is dealing with a customer." I plainly said.

"Come on, you're not angry with me are you?" he sighed as he walked in.

I crossed my arms, sitting back in the chair.

"Oh now the silent treatment?" he rounded the chair, standing behind me."You never stay mad at me for long, you know I..."

His words trailed off, and before I could ask him what was wrong, he snatched my phone out of my hands. I stood from my chair, reaching out to swipe it back, but he was already turning away from me.

"What the fuck? Why are you speaking with other guys?" he showed me my phone for a split second, a conversation between me and a guy on it.

"Shit, Juice, it's just for when I'm bored."

"You arrange dates with dudes when you're bored? Is that what you're telling me?"

"No! Would you just..."

He was so angry, his hand clenching my phone so hard I thought it would snap in his hands. But why was I explaining myself to him? I had always dreamed of a jealous Juice, (not very healthy I know) but it would indicate that he had some feelings for me. However, this was different to my daydreams, it was horrible. He had no right to shout at me like this, we had never agreed that we couldn't choose to start dating people.

"You know what? You can't get angry with me. You have no right."

"What?"

"We're not dating, you've made that perfectly clear everytime you see me. Yet I still went along with our agreement, even though it hurt like a bitch, but do you know why I did it? Because I believe that I do love you, it's never just been about sex for me, but I let you fuck me because it's the only way I'll ever be intimate with you. It's the only way I'll ever have a chance to know what it feels like to be with you. But it seems like all I am to you now is a whore, someone you call when you're bored."

"The fuck is going on here?" Gemma appeared, looking between us.

I swiped my phone back, keeping my head ducked as I spoke."It doesn't matter. Let's go Gemma."

I didn't wait for her to catch up as I left. Once I got out of the parking lot, I halted before kicking an empty can left on the street. Gemma turned me by my shoulders to face her.

"Hey, what's going on? What happened back there?"

"Nothing. You were right, I was right. I just want to forget about him and...And move on."

Although I put on a brave face for the rest of the afternoon, Gemma and I were both smart enough to know that it was playing on my mind. He made me so upset. It was as if he thought he had control over me and what I did. However, what upset me the most was that it didn't make me feel any different about him.

Gemma dropped me back off at my house, not saying much during the drive or before she left me. Sluggishly, I slowly made my up to my apartment, nodding my head to a neighbour I passed. I wa in no mood for talking. I found myself laid out on the couch, wondering ifJuixe was still mad. I shouldn't have to think about him, but I did. Him being jealous, did it mean anything? Or did he not want to risk losing the one girl who was always up for a quick fuck? I wanted to be an independent woman, not grovel at a man's feet; but it was hard to do when I wanted Juice on my life. We had connected before our agreement, but I must have been the only one who remembered that time.

As there was a knock on the door, I considered leaving it, until it was louder the next time. I knew it was him. And I didn't want my nosy neighbour to come round complaining about the noise. I groaned, taking a deep breath before making my way to the door, hesitating one last time before opening it. And there he stood, with his kutte on, looking down at me.

"Don't slam the door in my face, please." he rushed out.

"It's tempting."

"Can I come in? Can we talk?"

I stared at him for a few more seconds before opening the door wider, letting him walk past.

"Why did you get angry earlier?" I got straight to the point as soon as I shut the door.

He continued to walk into the room, hands in his pockets and head hung low as he faced me."I...I don't know."

"Yes you do. It's want I want, and it's also what you want."

His head snapped up, eyes wider."What?"

"You saw my dating profile and got angry. What does that tell you?"

"I'm not good with this stuff (Y/N)."

"Oh, I know you aren't. Hence why we've been fucking rather than actually talking."

"Hey, I talk to you. Before and after!"

"But it doesn't really matter does it? You just do that to make sure I keep having sex with you."

"No I don't! I listen to you."

"Oh, do you now?"

He raised his voice with every word he said. "Yes! I listened to all those stories about that dick Harry at work, and how he thinks he's the best at everything, just because he could use the new copy machine. I also listened to the one about that lovely grocer who gives you extra fruit cause apparently you're too skinny in her eyes. And I also pay attention when you speak about Cathy next door, cause she always watches me leave and then proceeds to gossip about you, even though no one believes the lies she tells."

I had no words. He really did remember everything. All those times I thought I was rambling to him, and he actually paid attention.

"Well... That doesn't give you an excuse to just use me. T-to-to brush me off all the time."

"I did that to try and get away from you."

I scoffed.

"Let me finish. You've seen what's happened in the club. The deaths we go through, the danger our friends and families are put in. I just thought... Maybe I could get you away from me, have a better life where you weren't stuck with an outlaw biker."

"Did you ever think... That I had already accepted that."

"You did?"

"Why would I keep going after a guy if I didn't? I agreed to the whole friends with benefits cause that was the only way to be with you in any sense. Not very feminist of me, but..."

"I'm sorry." he blurted out."You know I'm not good with words or feelings. But I know I am deeply sorry. I want you to know that every time we fucked, it wasn't just that. I wanted to make sure you were comfortable, that you felt loved during that. But at the same time, I had to push you away for your safety."

"I'm just like all those other crazy bitches." I slowly approached him."Like Gemma, Lyla, Tara, I don't care. All I care about is you, and your dedication to the club. I am dedicated to the club. If I didn't want to be a part of your life, I wouldn't be Juice."

He took my hand in his, squeezing it gently. "You know what you're signing up to, right?"

"Yes."

We were staring at each other, completely still until he reached down to kiss me. It was a gentle kiss, he had never missed me like that before. Our faces remained close as we pulled away, and he was about to go in again when I stopped him.

"You're going to have to make it up to me, and I don't mean with sex." I smirked.

He chuckled, nodding his head."Sex is really the only way I know how to-"

I giggled with him, already pushing him towards the bedroom."Alright fine, but this time it's all about me!"

#juice ortiz #juice ortiz imagine #juice ortiz x reader #juice ortiz imagines #juice ortiz one shot #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy one shot #sons of anarchy imagine #sons of anarchy imagines #sons of anarchy x reader #soa #soa imagine #soa imagines #soa one shot #soa x reader

[dreamingofscully]

6x18. “Milagro” - X-Files Rewatch

Lots of analysis below. So much to unpack with this episode. An EXTREMELY significant episode for Scully related to her feelings about and relationship with Mulder. This analysis goes into more depth in general, rather than a stream-of-consciousness observational post like my others tend to be.

Also, fanfic! I have a post-ep that I’d love y’all to check out that I wrote a while back in attempt to explain what happened with Scully in-between Milagro and The Unnatural.

Bated Breath (AO3), rated G, 2198 words M/S UST, Post-episode (Milagro) Mulder drives Scully home from the hospital.

Onwards for analysis and speculation.

The soundtrack for this episode is amazing. Love the beating heart that Mark Snow incorporated.

At the beginning, the symbolism of Padgett removing his own heart. It reflects the emptiness of his heart, his incapability of having love, but the burning passion he believes he is capable of, with which he pursues Scully.

At Padgett’s stare, Scully is creeped out, but she is also curious. That someone would look at her so boldly and with such obvious lust, when she’s tried to think of herself as separate from such things for so long. 

Padgett wills things to happen, using his writing as a tool, a FOCUS, to channel his powers. He manifests things - the psychic surgeon (representing Padgett’s dark side), the lightbulbs not working, etcetera. He uses his creepy stalker insight to profile how people will act, then writes about it, but he can’t alter emotions, only manifest what is already there. (If he could make people think and do whatever he wanted, he wouldn’t have given up so easily when he recognized Scully’s love for Mulder.)

Mulder and Scully sitting close on his couch.

Padgett suggests that Scully sticks to science and facts because otherwise she’d be viewed as weak and soft. Perhaps this is partly true for other people, but NOT for Mulder. Padgett doesn’t know her history, what she’s afraid of, the real reason she’s kept herself from believing for so long. However, Scully IS influenced by Padgett here - she stands up for herself (makes herself tough instead of soft) when Mulder makes her schedule for her and goes off to do her own investigation.

The burning heart tale that Padgett tells Scully: “Christ came to Margaret Mary his heart so inflamed with love that it was no longer able to contain its burning flames of charity. Margaret Mary... so filled with divine love herself, asked the Lord to take her heart... and so he did placing it alongside his until it burned with the flames of his passion. Then he restored it to Margaret Mary sealing her wound with the touch of his blessed hand.”

He wants to reenact this story with her, not realizing that her heart already belongs to another.

As Padgett tells Scully intimate details of her life it makes her incredibly uncomfortable. She’s an intensely private person, only lets in a few people. But here is some stranger who seems to KNOW her. How did she not know she was being watched? What other things does he know? It would bother her from a professional point of view as well as a personal one.

That someone thinks of her this way - a purely physical attraction rather than something cerebral and mutually respectful like she has with Mulder - it unsettles her. But his influence makes her more aware of her desires, the feelings she’s walled away for so long and hasn’t let herself acknowledge.

The conversation between Mulder and Scully in the autopsy bay is very interesting. Scully is VERY OPEN about what just happened between her and Padgett, something that is pretty unusual for her. She admits to being frightened, she tells him that this creepy guy knows “too much information and intimate detail”, and then openly challenges Mulder to do something about it. Scully KNOWS what Mulder will do.

Mulder’s uncomfortable almost-smile when she tells him. How fucking real is that. I don’t know about you guys but I find myself smiling at the most inappropriate circumstances, so this hits home for me. (Thank you DD.)

Mulder and Padgett try to intimidate each other in the elevator. Don’t fucking mess with Scully! Mulder’s brooding walk down the hallway. 🔥 🔥 🔥

The love scene. Padgett writes what he wants to be true. He can influence the thoughts of others but cannot control them like Modell - only an encouragement in a particular direction, a manifestation of emotions already present. Scully’s disgust and fear is tempered by her curiosity of the strange and mysterious neighbour, which is why she ends up at his apartment. Padgett misinterprets her intellectual interest as romantic in nature.

“Loneliness is a choice.”

The implication: she can choose, at any time, to NOT be lonely. That she knows she’s lonely. What’s holding her back? This season was SHIT for Mulder and Scully’s relationship, but an undercurrent for her throughout the years she’s been his partner - fear. She’s scared to take that last step, to have him know all of her. For fear of death, of losing him. Being alone is safe.

Padgett talking to her like she’s an object, something to serve his writing rather than someone with a CHOICE. Another thing that reveals the emptiness of his heart.

The fantasy that Padgett has about Scully is meant to happen after she enters his apartment. The mugs in the fantasy are the same ones they drink coffee from, and in the fantasy they are still steaming hot. The lamp doesn’t light because it is off in the dream (another example of his ability to affect the physical but not the emotional).

I love the symbolism of Scully looking out the window in Padgett’s bedroom. She’d see something similar out of Mulder’s apartment, just slightly different. But enough to make a difference. She feels desire, she has love in her heart, but only for Mulder. Padgett can never be a replacement, no matter how many words he writes.

Padgett believes they are headed to the bed, to the love scene he described in his writing. I don’t think it would happen even if Mulder hadn’t interrupted them. Regardless, Mulder is a wild card - he didn’t account for him to burst through the door, didn’t write about him, so Mulder can act independently, outside of the story.

Mulder’s jealousy at seeing Scully there with Padgett. He’s tense, tearing through his pages, heedless of the destruction he’s causing, handles Padgett roughly. Mulder manifests his frustration as aggression, and this time it’s extremely personal. From now on the interactions that Mulder has with Padgett are filled with tension. You can see that Mulder just wants to fucking MESS with this guy. Part jealousy, part protectiveness.

Padgett’s assertion that the characters choose the writers. Does he believe that Scully chose him? That the psychic surgeon isn’t merely a manifestation of the evil and emptiness in his own heart?

In the jail cell, Mulder moves forward to intimidate Padgett but Scully’s touch instantly pulls him back. This is Padgett’s first glimpse at the connection between Scully and Mulder. Up until now he’s only been observing Scully by herself, and listening to them talk in Mulder’s apartment. Now, though, he realizes in their FIRST INTERACTION in front of him, that she is in love with him. All the things that he’s seen regarding Scully’s interest in him have been misinterpretations.

Mulder confronts Scully in the hallway about her part in the book. Just a note that Padgett watches their interaction here as well, confirming his initial thoughts about Scully’s love for Mulder. I think he’d also realize Mulder loves her back, but in Padgett’s mind, who wouldn’t?

“You know you're in here, don't you?” - Mulder “I read a chapter. What does he say?” - Scully “Well, let's just say it ends with you doing the naked pretzel with "the stranger" on a bed in an unfurnished fourth floor apartment. (pause) I'm assuming that's a priori, too?” - Mulder “I think you know me better than that, Mulder.” - Scully

Mulder’s look while biting his bottom lip. Scully’s licking her lips here, too. Hnnng.  🔥 🔥 🔥

After realizing Scully can’t love him, Padgett writes this: “Grief squeezed at her eggshell heart like it might break into a thousand pieces its contents running like broken promises into the hollow places his love used to fill.”

A parallel to how Padgett is feeling himself. Or “thinks” its how he should feel, if he had a heart.

Mulder and Scully standing close at the graveyard. Scully touches his back when getting him to back off from the suspect.

Their argument - taking opposite sides.

Scully is compelled to feel less negative about Padgett, and doesn’t feel he is capable of murder, he’s just strange and mysterious. Also, she wants to believe that it’s just an innocent attraction. (Please PLEASE let someone normal be attracted to her for once!)

AGENT SCULLY IS ALREADY IN LOVE. ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

Padgett is looking DIRECTLY at Mulder when he says this. Afterwards, Mulder takes a quick look at Scully, who has a very vulnerable expression on her face and does NOT look at him.

Padgett’s statement makes Scully’s feelings REAL - they are something that EXISTS in the world. She can no longer deny it, push it away. Also, the fact that Mulder is RIGHT THERE, that he KNOWS, too.

Things can’t go back to normal, especially after the ending of the episode. I don’t think Scully wants them to. I think she chooses not to be lonely.

Padgett starts writing and talking to Naciamento/his dark self. His subconscious knows what story needs to be told. He needs to steal Scully’s heart to place it next to his, to have her in death if he can’t have her in life. This is the ending that only makes sense for this story - he wrote it to have her fall in love with him, for them to be together, but now it’s impossible.

Padgett’s comment that Scully has been “trying to get his attention”. Through her interest in Padgett? This is possibly a misinterpretation, but it also might be something she’d do, though subconsciously. In my headcanon, Scully’s been trying to get Mulder’s attention for fucking YEARS, so perhaps he is correct. She wants Mulder to see her as someone with needs and desires, not just his partner.

They sit closely on Mulder’s couch for the surveillance. 

The difference between Scully on Padgett’s bed, and Scully on Mulder’s couch (bed). At Padgett’s, she’s sitting up straight, very uncomfortable, like she could leap up and aim her gun at his head if he tried anything strange. At Mulder’s side, she falls asleep because she’s so trusting and comfortable with him.

Padgett wants to prove he can love, so he uses whatever power he possesses to sacrifice himself and heal Scully. From the burning heart story: “he restored it to Margaret Mary sealing her wound with the touch of his blessed hand.”

Destroying the book and thus destroying his dark self isn’t enough. Scully is already hurt, bleeding everywhere. He also needs to heal Scully, and does this through his sacrifice. This is the reason I believe that Padgett’s powers come through himself, he doesn’t really need his typewriter or even a physical copy of his stories to manifest them, he just uses them as a crutch. Perhaps it was how he developed his powers - his insight into human nature through his writing.

When Mulder hears the gunshots, he rushes back to Scully. It’s interesting to think that Mulder nearly cost Scully her life. Her bullets may not have killed Naciamento, but they summoned Mulder, enabling Padgett to burn the book, sacrifice himself and thus save Scully. In essence, she saved herself despite Mulder’s innocent interference.

“A chance to give what he could not receive.”

Instead of killing her, Padgett decides to give her the gift of life and love. He knows she loves another, that her heart is full of love unlike his own empty heart. 

Scully’s breakdown.

She was about to die. It was the closest she’s come and in the most horrifying manner. Death is her greatest fear.

Being faced with something obviously supernatural (shooting Naciamento to no effect, being wounded then miraculously healed) would also make her confused and vulnerable - not being able to explain what happened and put it in a box.

The emotions she’s been trying desperately to repress have been brought to the surface this entire episode. 

More speculation/final thoughts:

This season has dealt with Scully’s fears quite a bit, but mostly with her inability to accept paranormal/unexplainable phenomena. She also holds another fear - death. And it’s consequence? She’s afraid to let people in, let them close. After her remission, she tried to take the chance - to let Mulder closer, to give her heart to Emily. When she’s burned by taking these chances, she buries her feelings again. She’s too scared to take another chance, and the tension between them lately has not been conducive to any sort of positive change in their relationship. The emotions brought to the surface in this episode come bursting forth at the end. Scully doesn’t try to hide them. She lets Mulder see her whole heart, her whole self - fears and all.

Through sharing her entire self with him, Scully’s changed. She can’t go back to pretending and hiding. Her fear about dying, about getting too close, doesn’t matter. I think that Scully’s lightness in the preceding episode (“The Unnatural”) shows how far she’s come.

She reveals her vulnerabilities to Mulder, her softness; his embrace of her as she lets her walls down is cathartic and freeing. Scully knows what she wants, and now her love is “out there”, a tangible thing that they are BOTH aware of. No more second-guessing, misinterpretations.

Later in season 7 (“all things”), when Scully has her breakthrough about her beliefs, she has a similar cathartic experience (her vision in the Buddhist temple). In this episode, her breakthrough is emotional and related to her feelings about Mulder instead of intellectual/spiritual and deeply personal.

I think this episode is where I diverge from much of the fandom in terms of its significance to the MSR and Scully. I don’t think they can go back from this (along with things that happen with Mulder in the next episode). I’ll talk about a few more things in my “The Unnatural” post. If you disagree, that’s fine, but… I just love the idea of them having more time together, and I like the way my theory works! <3

If you want to know more about what I think happened after this episode, I’d love it if you’d read my fic “Bated Breath”. I feel that it expresses my thoughts pretty well about what I thought Scully went through, and where Mulder was as well.

#xfiles #x-files #x-files rewatch #x files rewatch #msr #msrheadcanon #mulder and scully #fox mulder #dana scully #top 10 episodes #season 6 #MEGA ANALYSIS

[lokiondisneyplus]

The wonderful Mancunian actress Wunmi Mosaku can be seen grappling with a leather-skinned monster in the horror film His House and drinking a body-swapping potion before having sex with a wizard in the HBO/Sky series Lovecraft Country. Pure hokum, right? After all, this is a woman who made her name with gritty performances on British television in Moses Jones and Luther, and who won a Bafta for playing Gloria Taylor, mother of the murdered Damilola, in Damilola, Our Loved Boy. Has moving to Los Angeles played havoc with her sense of reality?

Actually, no. His House and Lovecraft Country belong to a new generation of accomplished, provocative stories that invite us to compare the terror and violence of genre fantasy with that of the real world. They include the Emmy-winning Watchmen miniseries, which used Alan Moore’s superhero saga as a jumping-off point to explore bigotry and civil rights, and such racially charged horror movies as Us and the Oscar-winning Get Out, both directed by Jordan Peele, who is an executive producer on Lovecraft Country.

“The horror of humanity is the real horror, the things that we put people through,” says Mosaku, 34, via Zoom from Atlanta in the US. It’s hard to disagree. The most disturbing thing about His House isn’t the haunted council home assigned to her character, Rial, and her husband, Bol (Sope Dirisu), on their arrival in the UK from South Sudan. It’s what the couple endured before they got there: massacres, institutional brutality and losing their child as they cross the Mediterranean in a rubber dinghy.

Jurnee Smollett alongside Mosaku in the HBO/Sky series Lovecraft Country ALAMY

Meanwhile, the fang-filled, head-chomping bogeymen in the Fifties-set Lovecraft Country are puppy dogs compared with the racist cops, lynch-hungry rednecks and white men burning crosses on the lawn of their black Chicago neighbours.

The fantastical elements of His House have their roots in Rial and Bol’s grief, guilt and trauma. Yet Mosaku thinks that the heightened experience of watching horror, with its jump scares, musical cues and manipulative editing, is “a great vehicle” for conveying those more earthbound emotions. “It helps with empathy,” she says. “The tension, the way one’s heart beats when watching something that’s terrifying.”

In this tricksy new dramatic world we’re often not sure if the monsters are real. The events of His House, Mosaku says, “feel like they could absolutely be in their heads”. In Lovecraft Country three characters wake up the day after a horrific battle with the aforementioned fanged beasts but two of them can no longer remember it. This is a kind of gaslighting, echoing the way that black people’s testimony of mistreatment has been challenged.

Mosaku’s hardest scenes in Lovecraft Country came when her character, Ruby, drinks a potion that temporarily turns her into a white woman. This allows her to experience privilege — suddenly, strangers are deferential and policemen believe what she says. Things take a more lurid turn when she drinks the potion before having sex with a white man (actually a white woman in magical disguise — it’s complicated). At an, erm, crucial juncture, the potion wears off and her pale skin cracks and peels away.

Idris Elba with Mosaku in Luther, one of the British TV shows in which the actress made her name BBC/ALAMY

It’s an upsetting sequence, aesthetically and symbolically. “It brings up lots of crazy thoughts and rage and pain,” Mosaku says. “But I think the reality is that if any of us changed the skin that we lived in, whether it was to be someone who was disabled or Asian or LGBTQ+, the world changes how it reacts to us.

“People are threatened because of my skin [which] is weaponised against me,” Mosaku says. “My stature and the fact that I don’t conform to Western ideas of beauty with my afro and my west African gap [teeth]. I have to overcompensate, to say, ‘That isn’t me. Just because I’m 5ft 9in and black doesn’t mean that I’m threatening.’ I am a happy, joyful person. But I am not allowed to express any kind of frustration or anger, because I get boxed straight back into that thing that they always thought I was.”

Born in Nigeria, she moved with her family to Manchester when she was a year old. Her parents had been professors, but struggled to find similar work in the UK. In the end her mother started her own business and her father returned to Nigeria after the couple split up. Mosaku loved music as a girl, singing for 11 years with the Manchester Girls Choir, and she shows off her gorgeous voice in Lovecraft Country, belting out Is You Is or Is You Ain’t My Baby in a party scene.

She doesn’t speak Yoruba, her parents’ native tongue. “It’s a real shame,” she says, telling a story from her primary school years to explain why. She is dyslexic, but at that point it was undiagnosed. “My teachers saw I was struggling with reading and writing and told my parents that they needed to stop speaking Yoruba in the house, which is crazy, because they would never have done that to a French family.” For His House she learnt Dinka, the dominant language of South Sudan, as well as being tutored in the culture of the region and hearing testimonials from refugees who had made the journey through the Sahara to north Africa and across the Mediterranean.

She was set on studying maths after school until she decided at the 11th hour that she preferred acting. Hearing that another Mancunian, Albert Finney, had gone to Rada, she applied and got in. Soon after graduating she was being directed by Rupert Goold in Rough Crossings at the Lyric Theatre in Hammersmith, London, and appearing in David Hare’s The Vertical Hour at the Royal Court. “Theatre is my jam,” she says. Every time she and her American husband come to the UK, “We will see a play as soon as we land. We’ll go to the Young Vic with our suitcases straight from the flight.”

After several years of yo-yoing between America and the UK, Lovecraft Country is the first time she has worked in the US for an extended period. It’s not certain whether the show will return for a second season, despite critical plaudits and ratings that compare favourably with other HBO series such as Watchmen and Succession. Either way, Mosaku seems happily ensconced in Los Angeles, where she lives with her husband, who she would rather not name.

There are strong rumours of a role in Loki, the superhero spin-off series in which Tom Hiddleston returns as the trickster god from the Marvel films, alongside Owen Wilson and Gugu Mbatha-Raw. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Mosaku says, with an evenness that sounds practised. Given that she’s speaking from Atlanta and that’s where they’re filming the show, it would seem a good bet.

Eventually Mosaku says she would like to move behind the camera. “Even some of my favourite films, it might be a black story, but it’s written by a white person and directed by a white person,” she says. That’s the next barrier for people of colour, and it’s starting to come down, thanks to Peele; Misha Green, the creator of Lovecraft Country; Remi Weekes, the director of His House, and the like.

Mosaku talks about the notion of double consciousness, as explored in Toni Morrison’s novels: “The way that the world will box me up before I’ve even had a chance to prove who I am. It’s exhausting. Trying to do things without having to explain or apologise is really refreshing. That’s what I love about Lovecraft and I think His House does it too. We don’t need to explain. Let’s just be.” His House is in cinemas now and on Netflix from October 30. Lovecraft Country is on Sky Atlantic, Now TV, Amazon and Google

#Wunmi Mosaku #Loki #Lovecraft Country #Luther #His House

[slitherofgold]

Truth or Dare?~ Sam Fender

You had been on tour with Sam exactly 1 month, and although you spent a lot of time together, you wished you could’ve spent more time alone. It was safe to say, you were becoming really good friends. You both had such a strong appreciation for each other’s music, good banter, and the conversations always seemed to flow naturally- whether you were sober or drunk. You could genuinely say that supporting him was an honour. It helped that you were really good mates with his band too, cause with them around, there was never a dull moment. 

It was Tuesday night, and the only night where the both of you weren’t performing. You and the guys sat in the pub, drinking pints and sharing chips, whilst talking about upcoming plans for the band. It was nice not having to worry about performing that night. You loved it and it was truly your passion, but each night took a toll on your voice, and you were grateful for the night-off. 

“Hey, since we got loads of time to kill, do you wanna hit the town. I heard the night life here is crazy,” Dean said. 

“I would, but I’m kinda tired, I might just head back to the hotel,” you said in response, hoping they wouldn’t rip into you for heading out early. 

“Really y/n, you out of all people. I thought you’d be well up for tonight.” You shrugged your shoulders as confirmation. Your mind was not gonna be swayed tonight. 

“Actually, I might have to join y/n on this one. I’m fucking knackered.” Sam said. He smiled at you, as if he was saying this to back you up. You smiled back, appreciating his decision too. 

Dean through up his hands in frustration. “Well, you’re all fucking wet wipes then. Please tell me the rest of you are up for it. I’m not heading back to the hotel at 8.” Everyone else laughed and nodded, buzzed to get out. At least you weren’t the only one not going though, but it also meant that you and Sam would be alone in the taxi together, and although you were friends, you hadn’t spent any time alone. Your palms started to sweat, already nervous for the dreaded taxi ride home. 

Soon after, everyone piled out the pub heading for the town, all apart from you and Sam. The both of you hopped into the cab. “So are you really knackered or are you just not in the mood to party?”, you asked curiously. 

“Bit of both really. Never thought I’d say this, but I just don’t fancy drinking tonight.” You both laughed and joked on the way home, making small talk until the taxi pulled up outside the hotel. As you headed down the corridor towards your rooms, Sam quickly stepped in front of you, stopping you from moving any further. You gave him a questioning look. “Do you wanna just chill tonight? I don’t really fancy heading to bed yet and I could use the company. I promise I won’t bore you to death.” Your heart skipped a beat. You could handle a cab ride home with him, but a whole evening. The thought of it made your heart race. But you knew you’d kick yourself if you turned down the offer, and you were just friends anyway. He certainly didn’t like you like that. 

“Yeah sure, why not,” you shrugged, trying to act cool. He smiled in response, and the both of you headed towards his room. 

 It was later in the night and the both of you had had such a laugh. You had ordered room service, and had stuffed your faces with the biggest burgers. Then you had spilled all of your secrets, your most embarrassing memories, and had taken the piss out of each other as well as Sam’s band mates. It was all going smoothly, until Sam had suggested a game to lighten up the night. At first, you had laughed at the idea. Truth or dare? That was such a childish game. The kinda game you play at your first house party, where horny teenagers get the chance to experience their first sexual encounter. Yet you agreed nonetheless, what was the worst that could happen anyways, you thought. So far, you had posted the ugliest mug of yourself on your insta, messaged Van Mccann for a bootycall, and told Sam about the time you pissed yourself, cause you had locked yourself out of your own apartment. It was safe to say you had lost all of your dignity. Sam, however, had ‘accidentally’ sent his mum a kinky message (which he definitely regretted when she messaged him with how disgusted she was), showed you his search history (which was quite average for a single lad in his 20s), and told you about his worst and most embarrassing sexual experience. Now the two of you sat on the floor, next to each other, with your backs against the bed, tired but still up for another game. “Truth or dare?”, Sam asked as he looked over at you, smirking. 

“Ummmm dare”, you grinned back. He hummed, as if pondering what to dare you, a mischievous glint obvious in his eyes. 

“I dare you to take off your top”. You lifted your eyebrows, smirk in play, as if saying really, but willingly obliged. Internally, you thanked yourself for choosing to wear one of your nicer bras that day. Sam stole a glimpse of your chest, and nervously bit his lip, before making eye contact once more.

“Truth or dare?” you asked. 

Without hesitation, Sam responded with dare. “I dare you to take your top off”. He raised his eyebrows in amusement, almost as if he was saying really. This was definitely some kind of challenge between the two of you. To see who would give in first, and you sure as hell wasn’t gonna lose. He took his top of off and your breath hitched in your throat. He grinned as he realised the effect he had on you. It was clear to say, you liked what you saw, and already temptation to reach over and touch him, was hard to resist. The game went back and forth, before the two of were sat in nothing but your underwear. 

“Truth or dare?” Sam asked, barely above a whisper. You swallowed, nervous but eager, having waited long enough for this. “Dare”, you replied. 

“Kiss me”, Sam said. Without thinking, you attacked his lips hungrily, craving his touch. Sam didn’t waste time, before kissing you back. He grabbed you behind the head pulling you closer to him, wanting to feel you, and wanting to feel every part. His other hand roughly grabbed your waist tightly. You groaned into the kiss and you could feel Sam smile against your lips, clearly loving the effect he had on you. Still on the floor, Sam slowly stood up, forcing you to follow suit, still not breaking the kiss. You had wanted, had dreamed of this for a month, and now that it was happening, it felt surreal. You pulled away, as reality came crashing down. 

“Sam we shouldn’t be doing this, we basically work together.” Still holding you in his arms, inches away from the bed, Sam looked down at you, lust evident in his eyes. 

“You want this right?” you nodded in reply. “And I want this too. Problem solved. Thinking gets you nowhere, lets just enjoy what we have now.” He leaned down to kiss you again, almost cautiously as if scared you wouldn’t kiss him back.  Of course you kissed back, stupid with yourself for even considering a stop to this. Sam pushed you against the bed, kissing down your neck. You knew you’d wake up with marks tomorrow, which you definitely had to hide from the lads. No way in hell could they find out about this, you and Sam would never hear the end of it. Sam’s hand roamed down your body, embracing every curve. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do this,” he mumbled against your skin. His hand moved your panties to the side, giving him access to rub circles on your clit. You moaned breathy moans, Sam’s name a whisper on your lips. He looked down at you through his lashes, loving the sight of you underneath him. Naked, eyes screwed shut and moaning his name. He could just come undone himself seeing you like this. 

With great determination you stopped his hand, and looked up at Sam. You bit your lip and flipped the two of you over, so you were on top, catching Sam off guard. You leaned down and seductively whispered in his ear. “I want you Sam”. Sam didn’t need to hear you twice, he pulled down his boxers, eager, having wanted this all night. You shimmied off your panties and slowly slid down onto Sam. The both of you released sighs, your heads falling back. Having adjusted to the length, you started rocking your hips, slow at first and then picking up the pace. The two of you groaned in pleasure. Sam gripped your hips hard, his own hips bucking into you, helping you out and reaching angles inside you that not even your ex could achieve. Sweat glistened on your bodies, and the room echoed your moans. You prayed to God that people in the neighbouring rooms couldn’t hear, cause that would be hella awkward for them. But in that moment you didn’t care. You were in pure ecstasy. You picked up the pace once more, close to your finish. Sam was close too, by the way he groaned and the way his fingers dug into your hips. You both let out another moan as you finished and slowly rode out your high. Knackered, you slid off of Sam and flopped down beside him, the both of you panting heavily. 

Sam pulled his arm behind your head, and around your shoulders, bringing you closer. You rested your head on his chest, feeling his heart rate slow down and his breathing become slower. You traced small shapes on his chest, feeling as if you were in your very own safe place. Here with Sam, just the two of you, wrapped in each others arms. You didn’t need to speak, you knew exactly how you felt about each other. And you’d speak about it soon, but for now, you both embraced the moment. Enjoying the small comfort of each other, as the night drew to an end, and you drifted off to sleep in each others arms. 

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Dear God, I am very sorry for this sin I have just committed. I promise I’m a good girl really :) Anyways, so this was my first smut fic. It’s loosely based off another fic I read (surprisingly called truth or dare) that I read from Wattpad. So go check that one out too, and creds to that writer. I hope you guys enjoyed and give me some feedback (or even some requests?) if you want. It’s crazy what quarantine can do to you. Love you guys, stay safe!! 

#sam fender #sam fender imagines #sam fender x reader #imagines #Smut #fluff #quarantine #im sorry god #cheeky nandos

[wondersofdreaming]

Lost Boys - THREE

Characters: August Walker / Captain Syverson / Walter Marshall

Word count: 2.389

Warnings: Family reunion. Memory overload. Realization. Hurt. Self-loading.

Author’s note: Everything in this story is a figment of my imagination, with inspiration and snippets from the movies ‘Mission: Impossible - Fallout’, ‘Sand Castle’, ‘Nomis/Night Hunter’. This is pure fanfiction. If something doesn’t make sense, it’s not supposed to.

I do now own any of the characters from the movies that I write about in this story. Only the OFC’s are mine.

Tag: @katerka88​ @littlefreya​ @hell1129-blog​ @radaofrivia​ @gothwhopper​ @fcgrizi​ @vania-marie​ @mary-ann84​ @sciapod​ @mitzwinchester​ @omgkatinka​ @mis-lil-red (your tag isn’t working 😢)

MASTERLIST

Feedback is appreciated. Seriously, please tell me all the good and bad stuff, else I won’t be able to develop into a better writer if I don’t know what I’m doing right and wrong. I swear I don’t bite.

[ONE] [TWO] [FOUR] [FIVE] [SIX] [SEVEN] [EIGHT] [NINE] [TEN]

Lucas was sent home to Georgia to heal. Joshua, the Syverson’s biological son, flew across the Atlantic Ocean to meet and bring him home. Silvia Syverson was a stern woman, and when she wanted her younger son to pick up her adoptive older son that is what she would get. His brother had been curious about what had happened, as a medical practitioner he was also compassionate and wanted to help in any way he could.

A 12-hour plane ride later Lucas was back in his childhood home, lying in his old bedroom filled with rock music posters. On his dresser sat an old boombox and next to it, a towering stack of CDs.

Silvia had demanded he got some rest. There he was. Staring at the ceiling like a good little boy. Fuck. He was a captain in the US Army. He had seen death and destruction enough to last two lifetimes, and he was still a little momma’s boy.

After dinner that evening, Lucas asked his mother for the things he had with him when he was sent to be fostered by them.

“Are you sure you want to rip up in the past?” Silvia asked him, her brows pushed together in concern.

“Ma, I need to know.”

She sighed and motioned for him to follow her. Joshua was right behind the two. All three entered the basement and towards the wall filled with stacks of boxes.

“One of them should be labelled Trevor Thompson.”

Lucas started lifting his uninjured arm to one of the top boxes, but a steely look from his mother made him back away and sit on the stairs.

“Joshua, come help your old mother,” Silvia commanded her younger son, who was snickering behind his older brother.

“There’s nothing old about you, ma,” the younger man said and kissed his mother’s cheek. He started taking box after box down. Of course, the box that belonged to Trevor Thompson was at the bottom of the pile.

It contained Trevor’s birth certificate, fostering papers, adoption papers, name changing papers, and a black photo album. Lucas opened it with one hand and a pair of blue eyes were staring right back at him. The same colour as his own haunted eyes. Beneath the photo was written ‘Jennifer Thompson’. The next page shocked him even more. ‘William Thompson’, Lucas was the spitting image of him, besides the eye colour. In his dream, his father was always too far away to get a close enough look besides some minuscule features.

“Wow, Luc, you look just like your dad,” Joshua exclaimed, “You even have the same freckle on your lower lip.”

“Josh, that is creepy as hell that you notice stuff like that,” Lucas looked at his brother with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m a doctor, I would be a terrible one, if I didn’t notice the little things. Now turn the page and let’s see those brothers of yours.”

Lucas sighed, preparing himself mentally to take a look at his biological brothers. Brothers he couldn’t remember until a week ago. They had shared a womb, so why the hell couldn’t he remember them?

Silvia noticed the change in her son. She put a hand on his good shoulder and squeezed. He looked into her green eyes that were giving him the confidence to face the past.

“Lucas, you were five years old. Don’t beat yourself up for not remembering.”

“I just have this feeling that we were so very close as children. I feel bad for forgetting them. They are my brothers. I’d do anything for my brothers, those in the army and even Josh.”

“Gee thanks, bro.”

Lucas chuckled and turned the page. Three identical young boys were smiling back at him. One of them had a front tooth missing. Probably himself. He couldn’t even see the difference between who was who in that picture. Only the names under each boy answered his question.

Trevor, Oliver and James.

“Aw, Luc, look at how innocent you looked once. Now you’re a grumpy old man with a beard,” Joshua was teasing him. Lucas ignored his little brother and looked at the next page, which was of the entire family sitting on a porch swing all together, laughing and smiling. The boys were smaller, maybe three years old at the time.

A sense of sadness washed over him. The flush of some childhood memories overwhelmed him. Lucas closed the book. He handed it back to his mother and walked away from the basement. Both mother and brother calling his name, he didn’t listen, just kept walking. He needed to be alone, to collect his thoughts. His mind was flooding with a million memories, his heart was racing, his legs just kept walking, until he was standing at the end of the driveway. He went into a sprint and ran as fast as he could to the beach, or as fast as his broken arm would allow him.

The beach was almost void of people. Only a few were out swimming or walking along the edge of the water. Lucas sat down and just let his mind wander. Letting all the memories in. His brain was throbbing, the feeling was like it wanted to escape from the cramped space of his skull.

Memories of smiles, laughter, love. He remembered the devastating feeling when two policemen came to the front door and told their neighbour, who had been watching over them, that their parents had died. A social worker, Marcy Kane, had taken care of the boys until they were divided into new families. He remembered a lot of yelling and screaming.

“They are only young boys. You shouldn’t separate them. They need each other!” Marcy roared at her boss.

“Nobody wants to take in three boys at the same time, so either you calm down, or you are off the case.”

The next he remembered was Marcy crouching in front of the three boys. They hadn’t said a word since the news of their parents’ death. They had vowed not to talk or be happy again without their parents.

“James, Oliver, Trevor. I’m sorry.” She started and hugged each boy in her warm embrace. It nearly made Trevor cry. As the eldest of three, he needed to stay strong for his brothers.

The families came and picked up each of the boys, separating them, forcing them apart from each other. Marcy put the medallion of Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton over each boy before they departed. None of the boys cried. They had made another pact, to find each other when they were old enough. A vow all three of them forgot as they grew up.

Now it was time to make that vow come true.

Lucas stood and brushed the sand from his well-shaped ass. With a clear mind, he walked home to get some sleep. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

Joshua drove him to city hall. They released his papers but there was nothing hinting where his brothers had ended up.

Back home he called an old army buddy, Aiden, who had started a private detective company when he was released from the military. It took Aiden a few hours before he called back.

“Aiden, any news?” Lucas asked the minute he answered the phone.

“Yeah. I have some good and a whole mountain of bad, which one do you want first?” His friend told him.

“Give me the good ones. You found my brother? James?”

“I did. He was sent to live with a family in Minnesota. He’s still there. He changed his name to Walter Matthew Marshall, and guess what, he’s a police detective. He used to be S.W.A.T. and, dude, he has a daughter.”

“I have a niece?”

“Yes, congratulations Uncle Lucas. Are you ready for the bad news?”

“Hit me.”

“The brother, Oliver, you met in Iraq, he was moved to Virginia and changed his name to August Christopher Walker.”

“August? What the fuck kind of name is that? August is a month, not a name.”

“That’s not the worst part. Lucas, he was in the CIA.”

“He was definitely well trained. What else?”

“He rebelled.”

“What do you mean ‘rebelled’? What did he do?”

“Luc… your brother is wanted for planning to set off nuclear bombs around the world.”

Lucas nearly dropped his phone. His parents and brother were giving him worried looks. He went to sit down on the sofa before telling Aiden to continue.

“They thought he had died somewhere north of India, but they haven’t found his body. And there’s a warrant for his head from all the intelligence agencies around the globe.”

“How much?”

Nothing. Aiden kept his mouth shut.

“Aiden, tell me. How much?”

A heavy sigh could be heard through the speaker.

“A hundred.”

“A hundred what? Just a hundred? A hundred thousand? Spit it out, man.”

“A hundred million dollars. All the agencies want him gone, Lucas.”

“What does the warrant say? Dead or alive?”

“Both.”

Lucas groaned in frustration. What the hell had his brother done? Why had he done it? What happened to him?

“Thanks, Aiden. I really appreciate your help.”

“No problem. Call me if you need any help. Any kind of help.”

“Will do.”

Lucas pushed the end button and threw the phone on the coffee table. His mother came to sit next to him. She touched his left bicep, trying to comfort him without saying anything.

“What now?” Joshua asked and sat on his other side.

“I don’t know.”

“Son, look at me,” his adoptive father, John Syverson, was a rather large man himself. Don’t be fooled by his grey hair and grey beard, he might look like a nice old man, but he could kill people with a spoon. Lucas heard the authoritative tone in his general father’s voice and looked into the compassionate green eyes. “What are my rules?”

“Always be kind.” Joshua and Lucas said at the same time.

“Treat your woman like a queen,” Silvia chimed in.

“Don’t judge people based on the first look,” Joshua continued.

“Don’t do things to make other people happy, do them to make yourself happy,” Silvia smiled.

“And never leave a brother behind,” Lucas’ voice was firm. His mind was made up.

“I’ll book you a ticket to Minnesota.”

“Who’s going to Minnesota?” A soft female voice said from the hall. Four pair of eyes looked at the curvaceous woman entering the living room. The Syverson’s only daughter, who had been born a year after they had adopted Lucas. Her long curly brown hair was put up in a bun, her glasses sitting at the edge of her pretty little nose. She had her father’s deep green eyes.

“Melanie, darling, we didn’t know you were coming home,” Silvia exclaimed and went to hug her daughter.

“I heard through the grapevine that the captain was home, so I had to come home and say hello,” Melanie smirked at Lucas and squeezed his left side, avoiding his casted arm.

“Good to see you, shorty. How’s the University treating you?” Lucas asked and kissed his sister’s forehead. She went to get kisses and hugs from her other brother and father, before plumbing down with a huge sigh on the armchair.

“I love my job. I love that I can do research all day long, I never get tired of that, but lately…” She started.

“Lately, what?” Joshua gave his sister a quizzical look.

“Lately it’s been a bit boring. It’s too much of the same. I know it is what I signed up for when I accepted the job, but I was also promised more fieldwork, where I would be able to travel and study the texts, ceramics, and people up close, not from a computer where someone is streaming. So, I’m taking a sabbatical, one year where I figure out, if I still want to do desk research or if I need to find a job that is better suited for what I want and need.”

Silvia and John gave each other a look that only a married couple could give. They were communicating non-verbally. Lucas looked at his parents.

“No,” he said sternly. “Not in a million years.”

“You need someone to help you,” Silvia told her son in the same hard voice.

“I can take care of myself.”

“You’ll need help with the cast.”

“Josh can help me.”

“Sorry, bro. I have to be back at work on Monday.”

Lucas sighed and turned to the young woman, who had put her hair down. Her long curl cascading down her shoulder.

“Melanie, will you come with me to Minnesota?” He said through gritted teeth.

“Anything for you, Luc. What’s going on in Minnesota?”

“We’re going to find my brothers.”

Lucas had filled his sister in on his history. She had taken one look at all his documents and said she would figure out why in the world they had to be separated into three different states. They dropped their belongings off at a nearby hotel, walking to the precinct where Walter Marshall worked.

The secretary at the front desk didn’t even look up when they entered and just told them where to go.

“Hey Marshall, when did you break your arm? And I thought you said something ‘bout never wanting to cut your hair.” A young man, fresh from the police academy by the looks of it, was yelling from the other side of the room. He walked over and gave Melanie an appreciative look over. Lucas clenched his left hand into a fist; it wasn’t his dominant hand, but he could still break the little fucker’s nose.

“Hi, we’re looking for Walter Marshall, could you direct us to his office?” Melanie asked as she blinked a few times. Lucas smiled; he knew the look in her eyes. The charm-glare as he called it. That look that had gotten her out of trouble countless times.

“Well, miss, he’s right here,” he motioned at Lucas.

“Cade, get back to work or I’ll wring your neck,” a deep grumpy voice said behind them. Lucas turned around to look into another mirror version of himself. Walter Marshall was standing with his leg spread, his arms crossed over his broad chest, wearing a black jumper. His eyes widened as he looked at Lucas. “My office, now.”

#Henry Cavill #This man #Lost Boys #Series #My story #Fanfiction #Chapter three #Triplets #August Walker #Captain Syverson #Walter Marshall #I need a drink #henry cavill fanfic

[sinfulserpents]

Late Night Devil

Billy Hargrove x fem! reader

Slightly inspired by the song “Teeth” by 5 Seconds of Summer 

warnings: billy being his usual asshole self, bitchy! reader, unprotected sex, angst

THIS IS MY TRASHIEST WORK YEE YEE IM SORRY

Billy was pissed off. 

Actually, the crushed red solo cup would probably tell you he was far past the point of being pissed, he was furious – but he knew he didn’t have the right to be this angry.

He normally enjoyed parties, and that was usually because you were on his arm for most of the night – but instead, you were on Sam Porter’s who was grinning as if he had just won the damn lottery.

He practically had.

You were dressed to the tens, the little red dress was barely covering your ass, and the fishnet tights that covered your legs sent a shiver through Billy’s spine and caused his member down stairs to tighten in his denim jeans.

Billy watched as Sam slid his grimy hand down the curve of your spine and rested it on your ass – you didn’t even swat it away which made Billy clench his teeth.

How were you okay with the blonde haired, freckled douchebag touching you like he had the night before?

Tossing the cup to his feet, Billy willed himself to look away as you led Sam to the dance floor – turning around so your back was against his front, your hips gently grinding against his.

Billy planted his feet because you were having a damn good time and he wasn’t going to be the asshole who ruined it, but the moment that Sam nipped on your earlobe and whispered something in your ear that made your lips part and your hand fly back into the boys hair; he was on one.

With clenched palms, Billy pushed past the bodies of his classmates that got in his way until he was standing in front of you. Sam’s face was buried in your neck, and your eyes met Billy’s – but you didn’t stop your movements. Instead, your hand reached out for Billy’s arm, tugging him towards you; your chests pressed together.

Billy’s hands immediately settled for their usual place on your hips, as you wrapped your arms around his neck causing Sam to finally look up with a confused expression.

Without saying anything, you began a steady rhythm against the two boys, but your focus was now solely on Billy who was pressing his forehead against yours.

It was erotic – but Billy doesn’t like to share.

So without so much as a goodbye to the flustered boy you both left on the makeshift dance-floor of whoever’s shitty house you were at, Billy tugged you behind him until you were in his car – and pretty soon in his bed.

It was a mess of tangled limbs, and tongues fighting for dominance – teeth clashing kisses and nails scratching the others back. For now you were his and Billy was going to relish in it.

His hips thrust against yours sporadically as he drew closer and closer to his edge, your eyes closed in bliss as little gasps flew past your swollen lips. 

“Y-you’re so fucking tight,” Billy grunted, his arms holding your thighs as he pushed them onto his shoulders. “F-fuck, I’m gonna cum – can daddy cum in your wrecked cunt?”

“P-please,” the word was barely register-able with how breathless you were.

If there was one thing Billy Hargrove was good at, it was fucking.

Your legs shook as your orgasm came crashing through your body, hands clasping the blankets beneath you – your pussy clenching around Billy’s solid cock was enough to send him spilling inside you.

With a gruntled moan, Billy pulled out of you – placing your legs down on the bed gently before rolling beside you. Silence filled the air as you both tried to tether yourselves to reality – after a while, Billy turned his head to face you.

“I fucking love you, ya know that?” He spoke, softly running his fingers up and down your arm; it caused goosebumps to spread across your skin.

With a huff, you pushed yourself upright before swinging your legs over the side of his bed and began to pick up your clothes.

“What are you doing?” Billy furrowed his brows, quickly sitting up.

“I’m going home.”

“What?! No, it’s late – just stay the night.”

Shaking your head, you pulled the tight dress over your body before picking up Billy’s denim jacket and holding it up, “can I borrow this? It’s cold out.”

“Y/N, fuck! Just stay here tonight, I’ll drive you back home tomorrow.”

Rolling your eyes, you pulled the jacket over your body before walking towards his bedroom door.

“Goodbye, Billy.”

                                                         ✧✧✧

Billy was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

He knew he fucked up last night when he told you he loved you. He couldn’t possibly love you – because he doesn’t know how to.

The phone was beeping as it waited for him to press call, the little red button almost taunting him. He had to apologise to you because you were the only decent thing he had in the shitty town of Hawkins.

So before he could stop himself, Billy had pressed call; waiting for you to pick up. He knew you were home – Saturdays were for studying.

“Hello?”

Sucking in a shaky breath, Billy was half tempted to just slam the device back into its holder and go get drunk to the new Metallica album, but he didn’t.

“Y/N, it’s uh – it’s Billy.”

“What do you need, Hargrove?”

The complete emptiness of your voice made Billy shudder – it was as if you were annoyed he was calling you at all. 

You probably were.

“I just wanted to, you know, uh-apologise for what I said last night before you left. You know,” he stuttered, why was he so nervous? “When I said I love you, obviously I don’t – we promised that this was just going to be sex; so I wanted you to know that I don’t love you and I’m sorry if that made you leave.”

“Oh,” You voice was barely above a whisper and Billy couldn’t tell if you were relieved or upset by his confession. “Well, I was actually going to call you and let you know that I don’t think we should do this anymore. It isn’t a healthy situation.”

“You don’t want to fuck anymore?”

“No Billy, I want to fall in love with someone and fuck someone who I know loves me – I’ve got to go; I have a date.”

Before Billy could even start his next sentence the sound of the disconnected call rang through his ear. With a frustrated huff, Billy slammed the phone against the wall and stomped to his room.

Guess it was bourbon and Metallica after all.

                                                       ✧✧✧

The next time Billy saw you was a couple of days later at school.

You had taken two days off which made him nervous – but he quickly pushed those thoughts aside. 

Your smile was bright as you dragged a boy through the school; his expression matched yours except that while you were staring at the school with wonder, the boy was watching you with what Billy knew all too well as lust.

Billy felt his heart clench as he noticed the boys hand clenched in yours; he must be the douche you went on the date with. You smiled widely as you made your way past him without a second glance and stopped at your locker that was only a few feet away from his.

“You can come over to mine after school,” you chuckled to the boy, turning your lock and opening the locker door. 

You hadn’t even noticed that Billy was staring at the whole exchange, so he slammed his locker closed to gain your attention and walked across the hall to you.

It was childish – he knew that much, but Billy was jealous.

He was jealous that this asshat that looked like a ripped off version of Tom Cruise was staring at you like he was going to take you right then and there against the lockers. He was jealous that you were feeding into it, and he was jealous that it only took you a couple of days to forget about him.

“Y/L/N,” he practically spat, completely ignoring the boy next to you – pushing himself in-between you so he could lean against your locker. Your eyes met his and Billy’s heart almost stopped; he hated the way you were practically looking through him.

“What do you want, Hargrove?”

Your tone was harsh and cold – and Billy wanted nothing more than to go back to the day he first met you when you stuttered and rambled to him about how much you loved AC/DC when you saw his shirt.

“I want you naked in my bed, tonight.”

“Fuck off, Hargrove”

Slamming your locker shut equally as loud as he had done prior; you pushed his shoulder so he had to lean against the locker to stop himself from falling to the ground; Billy watched as you grabbed the now confused boys hand and tugged him down the hall and into your class.

Fuck.

                                                       ✧✧✧

Romantic gestures almost always made Billy want to puke.

They were cheesy and disgusting, so he hated that he was standing on your front porch with a pink rose in his hand and a shitty apology planned out in his mind. Knocking on your door, Billy’s impatiently tapped his foot as you swung open the door with a tired expression. 

Your eyes immediately darted to the crimson colour that stained his broken knuckles and shirt – but it wasn’t his blood. Before you could question him, Billy rushed to speak

“He was using you,” he blurted, sheepishly holding out the rose that you didn’t take. With a deep sigh, Billy threw the shitty flower behind him. “That jerk that you went out with, overheard him in the carpark talking to his friends about how he was going to fuck you and then move on. Said you were desperate.”

“So,” you began, causing Billy heart to thump against his ribs so hard that he thought it was going to burst out of his chest. “Let me guess, you beat him up?”

“Fuck yeah I did, he was treating you like a fucking toy, Y/N.”

“Isn’t that what I was to you too? Someone you could go to, to get your fix and then leave?”

“No! God no!” He shouted, running his hand through his hair before taking a deep breath – it was late and he knew your neighbours were assholes who would probably put in a complaint against you.

“Then what was I, Billy? You said you couldn’t possibly love me.”

“But I did – I do!”

“Do you? Or do you just think you do? Do you even know what love feels like, huh?”

“You know I know what love feels like,” he tugged his bottom lip between his teeth. You knew that the only person who had shown him honest and pure love was his mother. “I feel that warm feeling every time I look at you and it scares me, because I know I’m going to fuck it up. I’m a shitty person, Y/N. I’m a fucking dick, but every time I wake up I’m reaching for you, but you’re never there. I want you to be there.”

Your eyes shut as a single tear ran down your left cheek and Billy hesitantly reached out to wipe it. His calloused pad of his thumb swept under your eye lightly, and you opened your eyes to look at him.

“Where do we go from here, Billy?”

“I’m not sure, but wherever it is; I want to discover it with you. I want to fall completely in love with you – I want you to consume me, but only if you want me too.”

Pressing your lips against his, Billy felt you nod – a silent confirmation that held much more emotion than any words could.

Sometimes the devil needs love too.

#billy hargrove imagines #billy #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove x oc #billy hargrove stranger things #billy hargrove oneshot #billy hargrove one shot #stranger things #stranger things 3 #stranger things s3 #stranger things season 3 #stranger things billy #stranger things billy hargrove #stranger things imagine #stranger things imagines #stranger things oneshot #stranger things one shot #strangerthings #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #imagine

[imaginesandsmut]

He Wishes He Was With You Pt.2

Words: 1726

Pairing: Stiles x reader

Warnings: Little bit of some steamy action. cutie stiles.

Writers Note: this is a part 2. hope y'all enjoy it! xoxo

“Do you remember everything?.....The time when Void came to my house? Do you remember anything from that moment?”

“Yes, I do”.

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

When Stiles Stilinski first saw Y/N Y/L, he was in love. Yes, he was in kindergarten at the time but it still counts. Her little piggy tails and bright yellow dress captured his eye but when the kindergarten bully stole the big firetruck from Stiles and Y/N stole it back for him, he knew that she was going to be his future wife.

Stiles didn’t know how to control his emotions though. His mum told him to try and talk to her but when she cried because he screamed ‘hello’ at her face in the morning, he tried taking a different approach. His dad said to give her flowers but Y/N defiantly did not appreciate the mud that dripped from the flowers on her new shirt. So, of course, the only way he could show his love for her was by throwing a basketball at her head.

This then caused her to hate him for months on end until her birthday when he gave her a giant remote control dinosaur because he discovered her love for dinosaurs.

Scott always knew how the two felt about each other, he worked out by watching the two. He noticed that Stiles was projecting his supressed emotions towards Y/N onto Lydia, and how Y/N just stared at Stiles in every class they had together.

When Void took over, Stiles was trapped. It was like he was a character in a video game, he was making the movements and interactions but it wasn’t willingly, he was being controlled. When Void snuck into Y/N’s house, Stiles was doing everything in his power to gain some control and turn the ship around. He screamed and yelled to try and make Void get annoyed and leave but it only encouraged him further. When Void kissed Y/N, Stiles wanted to kill him. Stiles never really felt pure anger until that moment and that obviously made Void want to take it further. Thank god she pushed away cause he couldn’t handle the fact that he’s kissing you but it wasn’t purely him. His anger was also the reason why Void walked away, because Void had all the jealousy, anger, greed and hatred he needed to power himself.

So now here they were, sitting in Stiles’ car in silence, staring straight ahead. Not one of them knew what to say, or how to convey what they were feeling. Stiles wanted to tell Y/N he loves her but what if she didn’t feel the same and was actually uncomfortable about everything that happened when Void came.

“And?” Y/N spoke up.

“Are you okay? With everything that happened? I’m so sorry he….that I…. hurt you” Stiles wanted to make sure she was okay, that she wasn’t hurt. Stiles always checked to make sure Y/N was okay, he couldn’t live with himself if he caused her harm.

Y/N turned to face Stiles, causing him to look at her too. God, she is beautiful.

“Stiles, that wasn’t you. You would never hurt our friends like that. I know that the Stiles I met in kindergarten would never hurt me like that,”  Y/N looked down at her hands and spoke in a softer voice, “it was just hard, knowing he was lying about what he was saying. It was confusing.”

Now it was time for Stiles to ask questions.

“What do you mean ‘it was hard, knowing he was lying’?”

“well, you know,” she looked up at him, trying to get him to understand without saying it. “like….come on.” She laughed a little out of uncomfortableness.

“You think he was lying about what he was saying?” Stiles sounded shocked.

“Yeah.”

“Y/N, why would he lie? Everything he said was to gauge an emotion from the both of us. I tried so hard to keep every memory and feeling I have of you away from him, just so he couldn’t hurt you. Spending days not being able to think of you so I could keep you safe was basically torture, Y/N. And, of course he was gonna dig deep and tell you that I love you. Cause I do and that is the strongest emotion I have within me, my love for you”

Silence.

Stiles widened his eyes at the outburst and what he said. Y/N mirrored his actions and sat back in her seat, looking straight ahead again.

“ugh fuck.” Stiles leaned back in the seat and rubbed his face.

“So, you love me?” Y/N asked as if he never even said it.

“It’s hard for me to even comprehend how much I love you, Y/N. I don’t even know how to express it or what to do, that’s probably why I kept it to myself for a long time. And because I didn’t want to lose my connection with you.”

“well, now you can try and express it because I love you too.” She giggled, trying to make the tension lighter.

Stiles’ heart was beating hard and fast. Should he kiss her? Should he walk her back inside and give her the day to recover? Should they go on a date right now?

Stiles decided to take a different approach and slowly crept his hand from its place on his lap and rested on Y/N’s knee. Her breath hitched and she settled down lower in her seat, rolling her head to the side to watch him. With his face still forward, Stiles dragged his hand up higher onto her thigh, until it was at a height that was too high for friends but still low enough for nothing to really happen.

They were walking on the boarder. Even though they just confessed their love for each other, they both were nervous to go forward. They wanted it so bad but didn’t know if the other was ready.

Y/N’s breathing was heavy as she looked at his profile, she needed to do something so he can know that this was okay. She rested her elbow on the console, lifted herself up, placed her head on his shoulder and kissed his jaw. This caused Stiles to tighten his hold on her leg.

Y/N got confidence from this small reaction and started placing open mouthed kisses on Stiles’ neck. His hand was gripping and releasing her thigh, unknowingly building up the tension in her lower part. Y/N decided to take initiative and climbed over the console, turned to face stiles and sat down on his lap.

They both looked at each other, waiting.

“fuck it.” Stiles groaned, grabbed Y/N’s neck and smashed their lips together. It was like someone flicked a switch and it became all hands and tongue. The two of them fought for dominance but Stiles won when he squeezed her butt and she let out a small moan. Y/N started to grind on Stiles which caused him to let out a groan, allowing Y/N to break away and kiss his neck again.

They kissed for so long they seemed to forget where they were. Things were about to be taken to the next level when someone started knocking on the window of the jeep. Y/N broke away from their heated kiss with flushed cheeks and looked at Stiles’ messy hair. The knocking continued as did Stiles’ frustration, the foggy window didn’t give them an indication as to who it was.

Y/N got an idea and a small smile creeped up on her face.

“I see that smile, Y/N. Don’t even think about it.” Stiles already knew what she was gonna do, he knows her.

“Oh come on, it’ll be funny.”

“Y/N-“

Y/N ignored him and rolled down the window. As the foggy window slid down, the face of Y/N’s elderly neighbour was on the other side. The fog on the windows, the messy hair, flushed cheeks and of course their position was enough to make the elderly woman let out a little gasp from surprise.

“Hi, Mrs Pullmin.” Y/N said meekly, kinda regretting winding down the window.

“Why…hello darling. Um. I saw the car in the drive way and I thought it was a homeless man camping in your driveway and I was just going to offer them to move to my driveway because I didn’t think you would be okay with them being here but now I see that that is not the case.” The poor woman couldn’t even look at the two of you and hasn’t taken her eyes off the ground

“Yeah, not the case.”

Stiles was trying to supress his laughter as your flushed cheeks turned beet red from the embarrassment of the situation.

“Well, I guess I’ll leave you two lovebirds to be. Enjoy your teenage fun, darling.” Mrs Pullmin waved goodbye to the both of you.

“Goodbye, Mrs Pullmin!” Stiles finally spoke up and let out a cackle.

“Stop it!” Y/N lightly slapped his chest and hid her face in his neck. “I thought it was gonna be Kira or Derek.”

“That was far more entertaining, though.” Stiles kept laughing whilst he stoked her hair.

Stiles loved this. Even though they aren’t just best friends anymore, they are still joking around like nothing changed. There’s no pressure on the both of them, they’re still Y/N and Stiles.

“Hey,” Stiles spoke up after their laughter died down, “Y/N.”

“Mmhhm?” Her head lifted from his neck and she fake pouted down at him. He smiled up at her and lifted his hands to hold her head between them.

“Let go on a date tomorrow, yeah?”

“Really?” Y/N’s smile got wider.

“Of course, dummy.” He giggled at her childlike happiness. “I wanna take my girlfriend out on the town.”

“So, I’m your girlfriend now, huh?” Y/N teased, poking at the boy’s cheeks.

“Well, that’s if you want to.”

“Of course, dummy.” She grabbed his cheeks too and kiss him again.

Stiles wanted to be a gentleman so he kissed her and forced himself to calm down. He opened the door and the clumsily staggered their way out of the driver’s seat from being in their position. He walked her to the front door and bid her goodnight with another quick kiss.

Stiles was the luckiest man alive to not only have Y/N as a best friend but, now, to also have her as a girlfriend .

#Stiles #stiles stilinski #stiles x reader #stiles stilinksi imagine #teen wolf #dylan o'brien #dylan o'brian imagine #dylan o'brian gifs

[rosecolouredash]

Duality ; Rival Hockey!Cashton

Pairing: Captain!Ashton x fem!OC x Captain!Calum

Summary: A tale of two captains and their childhood love.

Warnings: Ash being a grade A jerk™️ like serious big cocky flirt energy, Calum being a soft smoosh, me being an indecisive bitch.

Notes: When new tattoos fuel your creativity, you have to take advantage of it — which I did. Thanks to everyone who continuously loves on my lil hockey!au. I love YOU.

For as long as Liza Morales has known them, there was constant conflict between the two hockey captains — a war of emotions that diverged off of the ice they competed on. It was something deeper than the cheap shots to the boards and the harsh chirps they exchanged when meeting one another at the face-off circle. After all, their fight over athletic awards and hockey championship titles meant nothing compared to their fight over a childhood love.

Ashton Irwin, the captain of the Vipers, was alluring and cunning like the creature that represented his team. Whether it was during practice or an official game, he was always out for blood — a true believer in “no pain, no gain.” If he made an absurd play on the ice, as long as it benefited his team, he’d do it.

His school still fawned over him for it.

Calum Hood, on the other hand, was all dark stares and pouty lips as the leader of the neighbouring university hockey team — the Knights. He was naturally fair and encouraging on the ice but his brooding attitude deemed him as unapproachable and standoffish by most of the student body.

The former could flirt with an unsuspecting spectator at one of his games even after just coming out of a scuffle with a rival player — his knuckles bloodied and not a single hair out of place while the latter could strike complete and utter fear, without meaning to, in a teammate with a single narrowed glance.

They were two sides of the same coin.

Charming smiles and profound scowls.

Conspicuous behaviours and deep insecurity.

Bright eyes and dark curls and somehow, Liza found them vying for her love.

—

The three childhood friends lived next door to each other in the same cul-de-sac. Liza was closer in age to Calum so they shared many of the same classes growing up. Ashton, who was a couple of years older, took the advanced classes at their local school.

Even as children, the two boys bickered often.

Ashton reveled in antagonizing Calum, especially when it came to hockey. Ashton was a known prodigy at the sport and he was sure to remind Calum of that every chance that he could. The juvenile banter fueled the younger boy’s want to excel and surpass his friend and rival with pure finesse and raw skill in the rink.

There were days when, as the three would hang out together, that Ashton would feel particularly petty. He’d slink his arm around the black-haired beauty, drawing her body against his. He’d tut his tongue at Calum, complaining that he never got to hang out with Liza alone — that Calum took up too much of her precious time.

“You see each other in class all day but what about me?” Ashton would ask with a small pout, his tone at the borderline of joking and being dead serious.

As the coiffed brunet pulled her from the Hood’s front porch to his own, Liza missed the burning glare directed at the older boy and the wicked glint in Ashton’s eyes as he thanked Calum for his hospitality. At the time, the young teen still had the decency to stay tight-lipped; at the respect for his senior.

In the end, the dark-haired boy had the last laugh since Liza had decided to study medicine at Calum’s university rather than Ashton’s. What was worse, at least in the Viper captain’s eyes, was that she was also part of the enemy team — as the student physician — which meant she and Calum spent more time together, nowadays.

Sometimes, in intimate and close quarters.

—

Liza wasn’t blind to their advances. How Ashton’s flirty smiles always softened whenever they were directed at her. Or how at games at his university, he’d use his sharp tongue, that usually quipped at Calum and the Knights she stood behind, to compliment her with devilishly sweet words.

Calum too, made his feelings obvious through gentle conversations shared in the halls of their university — in-between seminars — and the way he seemed to keep the girl tucked by his side, his hand pressed at the small of her back, during crowded victory parties.

Liza’s mind often wandered to her two captain friends. There was no point in denying her attraction to both. They had so much history.

Childhood sleepovers where she was the last to fall asleep; her mind racing about the future. Even at a tender young age, she knew what she wanted in life and Ashton and Calum would listen to her rambles with expressions of complete endearment.

Pinky promises were made during those nights; claiming that they’d be together forever.

If only she knew of the war that would wage between the two boys over her affection.

Liza was so certain about many aspects of her life and for the first time: she was indecisive.

She doubted that she could ever choose between Ashton and Calum and so, she focused on what she could control. Liza put all of her energy in her studies and on being the Knights hockey team’s glorified healer — much to both the boys’ dismay.

They too, tried to busy themselves on honing their own skills as athletes. Frustrations caused by the matter were taken out on each other when they met on the ice.

Until one day, it wasn’t enough.

—

Liza received a text message from Calum, requesting her immediate presence at the university’s training rink. Fearing it was injury-related, she rushed over. Luckily, her classes were finished for the day.

She expected to find a crowd of rowdy Knights when in reality, Liza was only met by one — the captain and he was on the ice with the Snake King, himself.

Though they were older, they were still childish which was clear when Liza realized that the two boys thought that duking it out in a one-on-one hockey game could settle things.

If only wading through emotions was that simple.

They were clad in their respective uniforms — the letter “C” ever present on their chests.

Calum was calm; wrapped in black and silver. His every move was calculated.

From each glide of his skate to the flick of his wrist — hockey stick pointed at the Viper’s net. The dark-haired boy had the resolve but Ashton, clad in bright red, was simply the better athlete. The older captain was always two steps ahead and it made Calum furious.

It was easy to see that they wore their hearts on the sleeve of their hockey jerseys.

Liza watched, after making her way to the home team’s bench, as they etched into the ice. Their skates were heavy with every powerful stride they took on the frozen surface.

Since the rink was empty, safe for the three childhood friends, the boys’ conversation rang clear in Liza’s ears.

When he stole the puck, Ashton chirped, “you may as well give up now, Cal.”

As Calum skated after him, Ashton continued, “you’re a good player but that doesn’t mean you’d be a good boyfriend.”

Guiding his hockey stick, Calum tipped the puck out of Ashton’s possession. He sent the captain of the Vipers a mischievous grin as he pivoted away. “What do you know?”

They went back and forth for a while.

The frown on Liza’s face deepening with each quip they spat at each other. There was a time when she believed her boys could get along. She was sure they could be the best of friends — if only they tried.

The intensity of the match continued to grow as the boys physically crashed into one another. Liza was ready for one or the other to shatter on impact. It was one particular hit to the board — Calum to Ashton — that she was reminded how tough they could be. The older of the two kept his composure, even after being slammed hard. Without skipping a beat, Ashton continued to goad on the Knight who was beginning to lose his form on the ice.

It was with one final puck to Calum’s net that Ashton watched with a triumphant smirk as the captain of the Knights gripped at his hockey stick with such force that it snapped in half.

They had decided at the start: first to five would win their little match.

The score was 5-4, in favour of Ashton.

The Viper removed his helmet, his cocky demeanor now serious. “How many times will you have to lose to me, Calum?”

From where she stood at the bench, Liza could see the twitch of Calum’s upper lip — his expression darkening.

Calum fists were still clenched and his broken stick was long forgotten on the ice. He didn’t bother to reply and skated straight for the exit; never once sparing a glance towards Liza, as he passed the bench in shame.

Her heart broke to see Calum so dejected.

To Ashton’s surprise, Liza chased after the younger captain, almost slipping on the ice in doing so because of improper footwear.

She could hear Ashton’s desperate protests as they echoed from the rink but she didn’t stop.

—

Liza was halfway down the hall that led to the locker rooms when she caught up to Calum. She looked to the side to find his helmet lying on the cement floor, its visor cracked; most likely from being thrown away in frustration.

“Cal?”

He turned to face her, his grimace prominent. If Liza hadn’t grown up with the boy, she would have flinched at his expression.

Calum was still in his skates so he was a couple of inches taller than usual. He looked down at his childhood love.

She couldn’t read him. “What is it?”

Words were never his strong suit, whether he had to communicate or receive them. Knowing this, Liza reached out to embrace him — the only form of comfort that she could really offer at the moment. Almost immediately, he latched onto her frame. His face buried into the crook of her neck.

“I’ll—” he began.

His breath ghosted her skin.

“I’ll be better,” he finished, voice filled with determination.

Liza pulled back slightly, “but Calum, you’re great as you are.”

She’s seen his growth as a demure defenseman into a confident captain.

“You’ve worked so hard and you continue to work so hard—for yourself, for the team. It’s what I love about you.”

Love. Was it contradictory to offer such affection when she harboured the same feelings for his rival?

At that comment, his expression became contemplative. Calum’s gaze was suddenly fixated on her and only her. Her warm eyes. Her round cheeks. Her thin lips.

“Calum?”

His gloved hands moved to cup her face.

“I’m sorry.”

His apology was the last thing spoken before he dipped his head and Calum’s lips met hers. Though the contact was rushed, the action itself was gentle. A gratifying sigh escaped the two.

Aside from kisses to the cheek and her forehead exchanged with both, this was Liza’s first real kiss. Not even Ashton had made the move. Though he was self-assured that he’d know when the time was right.

But now he was too late.

The Viper captain watched as they broke apart — eyes wide. His pompous facade shattered in an instant as he made his way down the hall towards the two.

Glaring vengefully at Calum, he hissed out while giving the younger boy a shove. “How dare you?”

Ashton with his composure lost was a true force to be reckoned with. She recognized his state immediately and so Liza placed herself in-between the two boys. “Ash, please.”

With pleading eyes, she continued, “that’s enough.”

“So you’re just going to let him kiss you?” Ashton questioned in heartache. “Are you choosing him?”

Calum instinctively moved to her side, ready to defend her, if necessary. Liza shook her head at the older boy, “I haven’t chosen anybody.”

She then let out an exasperated sigh, “and it’s unfair of you to expect me to choose between you two.”

The boys would never intentionally force her to pick. They had too much respect and adoration for Liza to do so but maybe they had not thought their plan through.

Now visibly frustrated, Liza positioned herself so that she could address both captains at the same time, “or allow a stupid little hockey game to decide for me.”

The boys were left speechless and too surprised to stop her from walking away.

—

That was the first time they had directly confronted their odd circumstances of emotions. Liza had avoided the two boys since; even going as far as asking the head coach of the Knights if she could step down from her position as the team’s student physician for the time being. Coach Sveinson let her go, almost reluctantly but she reassured him that she just had some things to work through — he could only wish her the best.

It was sometime after that the three childhood friends would face their feelings, head on, once more.

Liza sat at the desk in her bedroom — notes and multi-coloured pens scattered across the wooden surface. She was home alone and deep into studying for exams when she noticed movement outside of her window. Curious, she looked through the glass to find Ashton and Calum having a conversation in front of her house.

When they reached the Morales’ front door, Ashton made the gesture to knock but Liza appeared at the entrance before he had the chance.

She let them in.

They stood in the foyer, in silence. Surprisingly, it was Calum who was the first to speak.

“We came to apologize,” he started, the sentiment written on his face. “What we did—it wasn’t fair to you and we’re sorry.”

Liza kept her stance with arms crossed. She didn’t know what to say so Ashton took the opportunity to continue.

“We really do love you, Liz—” her breath hitched at the pure honesty in Ashton’s voice. “—and love makes you do ridiculous things.”

She gave her boys a small smile. “I have to admit. What’s going on between us—it’s complicated, isn’t it?”

Even the two rival captains could agree on that.

“Yeah but, if it makes you want to avoid us than it’s not worth it.”

Calum let out a breath, “the boys miss you.”

Liza admitted she missed the Knights hockey team too.

“As do we.” Ashton gestured to himself and Calum. Her heart swelled at that since she most definitely missed her boys.

Liza Morales wasn’t sure what would happen now but it was a start and that’s all she really could hope for.

Tagged: @irwinkitten @calpops @rosecoloredash @lilbabycalum @gorgeouslygrace @rainingcalum @cashton-dolan @lockthisheartinchains @americanhorrorstudies @lovableah

BONUS: Her study notes were hard to recall at this point. Liza’s mind was in a blissful haze.

When they said they had a way of making it up to her she hadn’t expected this.

Ashton opened her bedroom window — the temperature in her room too high. When he looked back, he found Calum kneeling at the front of her bed — the tattoo of a dagger glaring back at him on his rival’s arm.

Ashton rejoined Liza on the mattress, placing himself behind her as she reached back to grip at his biceps. Her left hand caressed his snake tattoo.

“Hey Cal,” he started. Calum lifted his head from between her legs.

“First to get her to five, wins?”

Liza almost choked on air.

“You’re on.”

#ro writes #hockey!5sos #hockey!cashton #hockey!calum #hockey!ashton #hockey calum #hockey ashton #hockey calum hood #hockey ashton irwin #hockey!au #calum hood imagine #ashton irwin imagine #calum hood oneshot #ashton irwin one shot #cashton imagine #cashton oneshot #calum hood #ashton irwin #5sos imagine #5sos one shot #calum hood x oc #ashton irwin x oc #5sos #5 seconds of summer

[wincore]

love, summer | dong sicheng

pairing: merman!sicheng x reader

words: 7.3k

genre: mermaid!au, fluff, some angst

warnings: mentions of nightmares and anxiety

a/n: my exams start next week and i really wanna complete a request by then but hnnnfhgf hear me out,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,merman sicheng is great,,,,,

You dreamt that the entire city was submerged in crystal clear water. The little glowing fishes swam over your bed, in and out through buildings and houses, over and under tree branches. As you tried to focus on your novel, the fishes tickled your arms and legs, blowing bubbles in front of you, beckoning you to leave your room, like they have something to show you, some secret to tell.

You climbed out your window for the first time in a long time, even if it was in a dream. You took one slow step after another, and soon you floated down to the soft, green grass. You let yourself be carried forward by the swarm of golden-orange fish as they joked and told you stories, trying to make their company much more enjoyable than they already were. You walked past the bus stop, greeting the old ladies going to the market, and finally down the stone steps, urged on by your marine companions.

They inevitably stopped at the edge of what was supposed to be the beach, if the city hadn’t been submerged in water. It still looked the same, except the water there was a darker, richer blue and you found yourself struggling to not dip your feet in it. Your eyes scanned the area; the rocks and fences were accompanied by painted fish, the sunlight streamed through the turquoise waters above and around you and the occasional jellyfish popped in to say hi. You seemed to be the only one there, and while the cold current felt refreshing all on your own, you missed the warm glow of the fishes already.

You walked further towards the ocean when you noticed the figure standing by the large pile of rocks you had labelled ‘the lion’ a long time ago due to its resemblance to the wild animal. You don’t know why but you found yourself being pulled towards the figure, although there was no current as far as you remember. As soon as you stopped, the boy turned to face you, a curious look on his face. The solid gold ink painted in fine lines across his cheeks, necks and shoulder blades gave him the appearance of someone special as much as the low-cut dress shirt tried to play him off as ordinary. His features were regal but his eyes were kind as they scanned you over, as if trying to comprehend your existence.

You smiled at the boy like you knew him. His expression remained unchanged as he stared back at you with wide eyes and parted lips, abruptly raising his arm to place it fondly on your cheek. The skies were still bright blue but you felt your chest constrict at the contact as the water around you suddenly turned against you. It seemed to darken; it choked you, filled your lungs that are not adapted to breathing underwater, and soon you open your eyes to your alarm clock flashing 4:00 AM in bright red.

Your heart still beats uncontrollably fast as you try to settle the panic that has risen your chest cavity. You try to think of anything but water—the treehouse in the local park, your mother’s favourite perfume, your neighbour’s golden retriever. You calm down eventually, sweeter and softer images slowly filling your mind. You look out your window to find a clear night sky and silence, and before the unnatural fear can settle in again, you shut your eyes and pull your blanket over you.

Despite waking up groggy and a little too close to noon for your liking, you help your mother with the errands (more like, you were forced to but it’s not like you have anything better to do). You race no one in particular as you run through the crowds to the local marketplace. You’ve grown used to avoiding bumping into people as you skip over steps, the uneven pavement adding a stumble to your movement. You say hello to the vendors and the people you already know, and while they understand your rush to buy the vegetables—you’ve always been this way—you yourself don’t know why you’re still in a hurry. You’ve been running since you were a child, and you haven’t stopped in quite a while.

It would have been a normal errand run for you had you not ran into the boy from your dream. His lips and jaw are still set into a regal expression, his hair is boyishly messy as if it’s just been dried and he moves as if he’s analysing the whole marketplace, each step calculated and each glance scrutinising. You think you’re blatantly staring at this point, but you can’t snap out of it either—every time he glances at a shop, or picks up a small item to look at, or lets the corner of his lips quirk upwards at the fruit-seller’s puppies guarding the fruits.

The boy finds your eyes in the crowd and freezes immediately. You make your way towards him, again as if drawn by a current but he shies away, running through the crowds and somewhere else till he’s out of sight. You run your fingers through your hair in frustration. Was he even real or have you started hallucinating in the summer heat?

There’s something about the boy, something that makes you unable to stop thinking about him—real or not. Was it the glint of the unknown in his eyes? Or was it his way of walking, each stride as graceful as a king? Was it the soft look of innocence painted across his cheeks? Or the pureness of his secret smiles?

You walk home at a slower pace, still lost in dreams and wonder. Your mother doesn’t appreciate you running into the house and dropping the groceries in the kitchen at lightning speed to run back outside. While you’re sure you’ll get an earful when you get home, you make your way past the bus stand, past the children’s park towards the silver beach.

It’s hotter than it was in your dream, but you’re used to it, appreciating the occasional breeze that graces your presence. There’s no particular reason as to why you came here. You don’t expect the boy to be here, but you came here on impulse anyway. The sunlight is almost always blinding in the afternoon, and you sit beside the lion, sighing in its shade and pat its rocks like they understand you, like they are alive in some way.

The afternoon is when you like the beach the most(other than at night), despite its heat. It’s relatively empty save the stray tourist here and there, and the songs of the seabirds and the waves lull you into your happy place, where you can be free and unafraid all at once. You used to run on the sand, struggling to land with a strong footing, you used to run every day to the beach, climbing over the fence. You used to run to laugh and be happy, to look cool to your friends when you won against them in a race. You don’t know why you still run so fast, but being an adult unable to catch up is a sadder fate than one would imagine.

You hear a sigh on the other side of the rock, and immediately perk up. With slow, silent movement you stand up and take a step forward to peek to the other side. An inaudible gasp escapes from your mouth, at the boy from your dreams present before you yet again. He wears a dark baseball cap, a new addition to his outfit from the marketplace, and you can’t see any recognizable expression on his face for you to discern.

In your excitement, you become rather insensitive to his sense of security, and run around the rock to try and greet him (you don’t know how yet but you think a ‘hi’ is a good start). But the suddenness of your action leads to a strangled noise emanating from his throat as he stumbles backward and lands on the soft sand. Realizing your inconsiderate proceedings, you feel a blush bloom across your face and crouch down in front of him.

“Sorry!” you begin, “I really am- I didn’t mean to do that.”

He stares at you with slightly wider eyes for a few quiet seconds before shaking his head.

“It’s okay.”

His voice is deeper than you expected, although it carries a melody you find familiar.

Finding no other way to improve the conversation, you introduce yourself. You’re suddenly a little conscious of how casual your attire is, shorts and an oversized t-shirt, while he’s dressed in a loose fitting, full-sleeved shirt somewhat resembling a Disney prince. When you ask him his name, he looks a little confused, tilting his head to one side with a blank expression.

“My name? My name is Sicheng.”

“Sicheng,” you repeat.

“Yes,” he nods.

“Do you come here often?” you ask, a smile playing on your lips.

He looks amused, a tiny light sparkling in his eyes as he responds, “Yes. I guess you can say that.”

Talking to Sicheng is easier than talking to people from your town. Although he acts like a tourist sometimes, there’s nothing remotely tourist-y about the way he thinks, about the way he talks of the ocean and the sand. Sometimes, it feels like he knows much more about your own secret place than you do. He talks slowly and carefully at first, with you continuing the conversation. But when you talk about the ocean like a friend, he perks up, listening intently and adding on with a excited tremor to his voice.

“You think it looks like a lion too?” you ask.

“No, a sea lion,” he insists.

You press your eyebrows together to think. Does it now?

“I’ve never seen a lion anyway,” Sicheng mutters when you don’t come up with a response.

“Neither have I, silly, but you must have seen pictures.”

Sicheng looks flustered before nodding rapidly, “O-Of course!”

The sand is still warm when the evening begins, and you gaze at the orange hues meddling with fading blues of the ocean, in peaceful silence. Sicheng breaks it, getting up suddenly, a look of panic etched across his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“I, uh, I have curfew.”

“Really?” you laugh. “How old are you?”

“Older than you for sure,” he shows his teeth in something of a grin before making a run for it over the sands, a hasty goodbye directed your way.

Sicheng’s disappearing figure reminds you that you, too, have a curfew and your mother will have your head soon.

You can’t sleep that night. The nightmares are strong and vivid, and they like to constrict your lungs, rob you of air every time you try closing your eyes. You throw off your blanket and sit up, unable to take it anymore.

Where else can you go in the middle of the night but the sea? The sea which has calmed you since you were a child, the sea which doesn’t ask questions unless you want it to, the sea that has been here since before you existed and which will be there long after you’re gone. This is the sea you come to every time your chest hurts, every time you need to keep breathing. You skip over the rocks till you land on the one furthest into the ocean. The waves crash against the boulders, splashes of water hitting you in sporadic seconds. You let your legs dangle over the edge, as you sit on a relatively flat surface of the giant rock.

The sea at night listens. You listen to its existence, and it listens to your heartbeat. You notice the moon swaying on the water, and involuntarily look up. If you could take in your breaths without worrying about the coming morning, you’d already have ventured far, far beyond the summer. You stand, wanting to feel the ocean breeze a little clearer, to laugh with the moon a little easier.

The dark blue night sky enchants you, charms you so much that you don’t notice your feet in the darkness. The moon and its lucent companions get blurry and before you can comprehend, you stumble and fall.

The thing about seawater is that it stings as much as it is cold. Your nose and throat burn as you’re relentlessly pushed and pulled in tug-of-war game that the sea plays with itself. You try grabbing a hold of the rocks but they’re too slippery, escaping your grasp each time but leaving you with flaring scratches. You’re about to give up—maybe your lungs were meant to be filled with water, after all, and you take one deep breath before trying to reach for a strong enough hold. You do get a hold of something this time, but it’s too soft, too moving to be rocks.

Glowing eyes scan yours and you don’t have enough time to react to it holding you by the waist as your consciousness slowly leaves you. The night gets darker at a rapid pace and the last thing you remember is a warmth pressed against your mouth.

You wake up in a place you had once had a glimpse of a long, long time ago. Or rather, it’s a place you think you’ve seen before because it looks like a hideout, a magic-scented cove from your fantasy novels. No, you can’t say you’ve ever been here. But the essence of it is familiar.

The rocks around you are mossy, and the sound of dripping water continues to echo through the cave-like area. Sunlight streams in through a place further off, and you think you can see a hint of bright green seaweed, dancing under the light. You’re not underwater, no. The pools scattered around your feet are deeper than they appear to be, sapphire blue and strangely inviting. The largest one is near the fields of submerged seaweed, lighter turquoise water swaying under the breeze. You inevitably walk towards it, steps slow but steady.

The sound of gushing water gets louder with every step you take, and you can finally see the small sets of waterfalls that have formed over the large pool. The sunlight is brighter yet, and it must be early morning because you can hear the rising cries of the seagulls. There’s some red sprinkled on the sand near the pool which you realize are baby crabs with delight, and you’re sure you spot the occasional rainbow scales of fish inside the waters.

Just when you’re about to turn the other way, you notice a startlingly familiar face gazing at the part of the sky that the rocks of the cliff allow you to see. He’s in the pool, mostly underwater, while his bare torso rests under the sun.

“S-Sicheng?!”

Sicheng snaps his head towards you, but instead of showing any hints of compassion, he sinks further underwater till the water reaches his nose.

“Sicheng,” you say, dodging the little crabs on your path, “What are you doing here?”

“Don’t come any closer!”

“Why?” you continue walking towards the pool while he drifts apart.

“Th-there’s, uh, piranhas! In the pool!”

“What?! Why are you inside then?”

Sicheng exposes his teeth with a click of dismay. The perfect set are only broken by the disproportionately large canines, and while they’re not large enough to poke out of his mouth, they still surprise you a bit.

“Sicheng,” you furrow your brows at him.

Sicheng sighs before propping himself up on a rock, his upper body exposed to you. You jump over to said rock and while you scrutinize him for whatever he may be hiding, he raises his full body onto the rock.

You’re so taken aback you almost fall into the pool. A pale yet somewhat iridescent fishtail stays attached to Sicheng’s lower body, sometimes shimmering with the colours of the rainbow when he moves at certain angles.

“A merman, yes,” Sicheng confirms before you can ask, shaking his head.

“Cool,” you whisper with eyes full of wonder.

“You don’t hate me?”

“What? Why should I?”

Sicheng scrunches his eyebrows in confusion. “They always said the humans hated us. That’s why they throw their filth in here.”

“No, sweetie, that’s because humans are shit.”

Sicheng cracks a smile. “Don’t you want to get back?”

“Are you kidding me?” you say, creasing your brows. “No way!”

Sicheng offers to show you around his secret cove with a bashful smile. His tail disappears once he’s out of the water, and once again, he’s in the clothes you saw him in.

When you venture further into the faint darkness, you’re startled by the sudden loud echo of water dripping from an extreme height, no doubt. Sicheng steadies you by the shoulder, and when you smile at him as thanks, you don’t see the warmth of his cheeks in the darkness.

“Just a little further,” Sicheng’s voice comes from beside you.

And then you see it. The glass holds back the blue of the sea, and the life teeming behind it. Your jaw drops and you walk faster towards it, unaware of anything else, looking only at the brightly coloured anemones and the lively fish playing peek-a-boo. The other creatures on the seabed look prehistoric, like something out of a dinosaur book but they mind their own business, scouring the floor.

“My dad made this,” Sicheng says, waving towards the dimly lit glass. “I used to come here all the time.”

You nod, smiling, and press your fingertips against the glass. A turtle swims by, gently tapping its head against the glass and then swimming away. You wave at it, enamoured by its lazy yet jolly movement.

A sudden shuffling from the back of the trail causes the both of you to get alert. The shuffling turns into footsteps and a look of panic spreads across Sicheng’s face as he pulls you into a narrow trail, trying to keep from touching the damp rocks as much as possible. The footsteps eventually fade into a thick silence, full of anticipation, and Sicheng presses you further into a narrow crevasse, his breath hot on your cheek.

You hear voices after a few seconds, and you think Sicheng must recognize one of them because he tenses up, his breath hitching. In his fear, he leans further into you as if he can simply disappear from sight if he gets close enough—and you would be okay with it if it weren’t for lump in your throat and the goosebumps on your skin that had formed at the extreme proximity.

Sicheng lets out a deep breath when he’s sure the owner of the voices have left. He turns to look at your face, which is most certainly far too in his personal space and from what you can make out in the darkness, he suddenly feels warmer. Another thing you find out about Sicheng is that his eyes glow a dangerous yellow in the dark. They widen as if realizing your position only now and he stumbles forward, out into a more breathable area.

You follow him out and he mumbles a panicked ‘sorry!’ to which you shake your head.

“That was my dad,” Sicheng says, his voice low. “He’d kill me if he found I brought a human here.”

“Oh,” you barely respond, your voice meek, “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s not your fault,” he says, flashing a polite smile.

You walk to the glass again, the blue-painted light dancing and playing across Sicheng’s cheeks as he smiles at the turtles, a small dimple making its appearance. He turns to meet your gaze, and you don’t know why but your cheeks heat up, caught in the act of staring. He lets out an ‘ah!’ before walking closer and holding up your arms gingerly.

You see the red lines of swollen scratches stretching randomly across your skin as though a deranged man had made marks on a canvas with bright red paint. You hadn’t felt the pain up until now, but suddenly they burn. Before you can understand, Sicheng brings your palm to his mouth and breathes—a cold breath, as soothing as ice on a summer afternoon and you sigh in relief. He does that for all your scratches and cuts; from your knuckles to your elbows to your knees, and the pain subsides as fast as it had appeared.

You gaze at him in wonder. “You’re magical!”

“Yes, I thought the tail gave it away.”

“Don’t get snarky with me.”

Sicheng smiles, the pure kind where he beams all over.

When you glance at your arms again, your skin is fully healed and soft to touch. You make your way back, talking in hushed whispers (it’s mostly you asking about the underwater kingdom, and how cool it would be for sightseeing) and while Sicheng speaks, he doesn’t seem to be telling you everything you want to know.

Sicheng stops at the pool and you stare at his back, wondering why he stopped so suddenly.

When he turns around, his lips are pressed together and there’s a sharp intake of breath before he speaks. “How long can you hold your breath?”

You crease your brows, trying to respond with an answer. Well, in middle school, you could do it up to a little more than two minutes. You’re not very sure about now though; you don’t swim often.

“Seven minutes?”

“Seven?!” you repeat. “I couldn’t do that if I tried!”

Sicheng scrunches his eyebrows again, pressing his lips into a thin line till his cheeks puff out.

“W-well,” he begins, “to get out of the cove, you have to swim through that pool and…”

Sicheng trails off, the dilemma at hand getting obvious.

“Unless you want to climb,” he says, looking up at the rocky walls surrounding the pool that stretch far too high into the sky.

“Is there no other way?” you ask, suddenly scared.

“I don’t think you’d appreciate it,” he says.

You look at him as if to say ‘well, continue’ but he gulps and a somewhat embarrassed expression takes over.

“I’d have to kiss you,” he says, quieter.

Suddenly, an image flows back into your head from last night and you gasp before pointing an accusing finger at Sicheng. “You kissed me last night!”

He seems to get more embarrassed as he trips over his words, trying to explain. “Your- your lungs were failing! And I thought you’d- you’d die for sure I—”

“It’s okay,” you reassure quickly, trying to ignore the rising red in your cheeks.

“It’s okay?” he repeats.

You nod and take a step forward. Sicheng tries to compose himself as he gets closer to you and gingerly presses his lips to yours for a flash of a second. You barely register it, but the same icy feeling travels from your lips to your throat to lungs. By the time your head feels less dizzy, Sicheng is already in the water motioning for you to follow him.

Swimming without the fear of drowning is a different experience altogether. You make sure to say hello to all the fishes you pass, the hum of excitement in your chest leading you on. The sea is dark initially but as you swim up, the sunlight enters and you’re pulled towards it. The school of fish swirl around you and Sicheng, and you see him with a soft smile adorning his face, before he turns back to you.

You take your first breath at the surface of the familiar blue sea. Even when you reach the sand, Sicheng follows you, making sure you’re safe in every step. While you assure him you’re fine, he follows you all the way back home, waving you goodbye with a concerned, tight-lipped smile.

You visit Sicheng the next day, and the day after, and the day after that. Each day he brings a new sea creature you’ve never seen before in a sealed water bubble, with an excited grin tugging at his full lips. Each day you get to know more about him, not because he talks a lot but from the way he talks and the way he looks while talking. You’re at your own pace with him, not worrying about a nightmare anytime soon. Neither of you talk about the ‘kiss’ though and most of you is relieved to never bring it up again.

“This,” Sicheng says, “is a juvenile cowfish.”

It’s a little translucent fish, which tends to glow a soft violet and stares at you with black soulless eyes and puckered lips.

“You really like these creatures, don’t you?”

Sicheng nods, smiling while looking down. “I like those too,” he says, “Puppies.”

Your eyes widen when an idea strikes and you clasp your hands together. “You’re going to love Miss Wei’s puppies. She lives on the cliff, over there.”

You point at the hills that act as a continuation of the short cliffs by the ocean. It’s covered in dense forests but you’ve visited it enough times to know of the numerous cafes and bathhouses, and of course, the location of your elementary school teacher’s house. You used to visit her all the time, along with your childhood friends, to play in her yard and she didn’t mind one bit. She loved your energy bursting through her rooms and she still invites you over, although she’s retired. You visited her almost a month ago, before you found Sicheng, and you remember gleefully playing with her new puppies telling you to come join her again. It’s also a good excuse to go visit her, and have her infamous brownies.

Miss Wei’s house is a long way to trek, though, and you sit at a café midway to your destination. Sicheng pokes around with the menu, somewhat glaring at it before you open your mouth into an ‘o’ shape.

“You can’t read,” you state to him.

He nods and you take the opportunity to present to him your favourites.

“Tiramisu?” he asks, poking the delicacy with a fork. He cuts off a portion and places it in his mouth nonetheless and his eyes widen, a ‘wow’ escaping his lips.

You reach Miss Wei’s house after almost an hour of lugging yourself uphill, and you’re almost immediately engulfed by the puppies. The two of them wag their tails in uncontainable excitement and Sicheng lets out a timid, startled noise when they jump up on him.

You hear your name called out from the front door and Miss Wei stands there in her signature apron; she used to bake cookies for class, too, and she looks as jolly as ever, her skin pale but soft and her cheeks as red as apples. She rushes down the steps to greet you with the biggest smile before turning to Sicheng.

“Is this your boyfriend?”

You turn red without notice, not sure why the thought of Sicheng as your boyfriend makes you feel that way. You shake your head at whirlwind pace, and although Miss Wei responds with a ‘oh dear, my bad’, the glint in her eyes tells you that you’ve given yourself away.

Sicheng is well used to the puppies after a bit of running and stumbling around, and when you sit at the steps of the temple, Miss Wei tells you something you never expected her to say. You notice the marks of age on her skin; the wrinkles, the deep creases, especially when she’s grim. When she was your teacher, she seemed much happier, much more foolish, one would say. Her eyes follow Sicheng’s movement, a mirthless look on her face contrasting with Sicheng’s spikes of laughter.

You must never trust water.

You don’t forget what she says, not because of your attachment, but because they seem to hold a truth you’re missing. A truth you might never be able to grasp. It’s a little strange, though, to hear the words from someone who told you to smile and hold your head high every day.

The summer breeze brings back your teacher’s honey-sweet smile, and she asks, “Aren’t you going to visit the shrine?”

Of course, you had forgotten about the summer rituals. The goddess of the sea in her crown of seashells and shipwrecks, a heart as kind as nature allows and an unmoving yet sorrowful smile playing on her lips—that’s who you worship when the summer haze starts, that’s who you mutter your prayers too, in hopes that one day she might answer them.

Sicheng follows you up the stairs of the shrine happily, after having waved goodbye to Miss Wei and her enthusiastic puppies. He’s suddenly livelier than before, and you would think he’s in a different world altogether, with the lost smile on his face.

You’re sweating by the time you reach the top, and you wipe your brow cursing the heat as Sicheng steps from behind to stand beside you. You flash him a smile, still out of breath, and the returned smile playing on his pink lips make your flutter in a sudden motion.

The shrine in front of you stays inside a jasmine-scented building, the wooden posts holding up its tiled roof. The fragrance comes from the decorated jade bowl, with flowers and stray petals floating on its emerald waters and the small structure stands right in front of the two pillars signifying the entrance. The space inside isn’t too deep, but Sicheng freezes as soon as he sees the carved ivory face of the sea goddess, her eyes wide open in an undecipherable emotion and lips painted red. The colour produces a stark contrast with the bluish grey jewels on her forehead, and it might just describe the very essence of her being.

Ever since you were a child, you’ve heard stories of the feared yet loved deity—how she can swallow the largest, most intricate of ships if she deemed them unworthy, how she blesses the children born by the sea, how her smile has enough power to soak the city in light, and her wrath enough to claim all life on earth. She has a flow timed with the flow of life, and she is all things nature has to offer.

You especially found one particular story interesting, not because it was sweet or heart-warming but because of how unlikely it sounded. The sea goddess, in all her beauty and glory, regularly charmed the mortals and while she viewed them as nothing but passing lives, she still fell in love. She fell in love with a mortal man, and to make him immortal, she performed sacred rituals and raised tsunamis, but alas, it was never meant to be. Her children—children of the sea, with golden and silver and beautiful fishtails, and their children’s children lived on, and they are the ones who make her love unforgettable. Looking at Sicheng now, with his sculpted jaw and rosy lips, phoenix eyes and perfectly arched brows, you’re willing to believe that the goddess of the sea was truly as breath-taking as the stories claim her to be.

Sicheng’s discomfort doesn’t go unnoticed by you. You open your mouth to ask, but he stumbles around, unable to look any longer at the shrine.

The atmosphere turns damp as you walk back down the steps, back to the peachy sands of the seashore. Sicheng refuses to elaborate despite your obvious hints, and you grow restless with each passing second.

You absentmindedly make your way towards the lion, and breathe out before climbing it. Sicheng stands at the base for a few seconds until you usher him to follow suit. He complies, not very reluctant, and soon you’re sitting in silence under the coastal sunset.

“Sicheng,” you begin, “are you going to tell m—”

“I don’t know.”

You purse your lips at his haste. He notices it and sighs, a rather sorrowful expression overtaking his features.

“I…my mother…I hate my mother sometimes,” he says softly, “But I’m not allowed to say that.”

You stay quiet, waiting for an explanation. You understand his hesitance to say something personal and you wont force him, but he looks so burdened, you wish he’d let some of his stress go sometimes.

“Well,” he continues, “she’s the sea goddess you guys love so much.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What?”

“My birth history…is a little…complicated.”

And so you let him elaborate; you wait patiently when his voice hitches, your ears tune in when he speaks without stop and you try to the understand the mess of a life the sea prince has. With a human father, who loved the sea so much he wished to be submerged in it for the rest of his life and was finally granted his wish, and a mother who literally descended from heaven, who barely has time for any of her children, even the one whom she claims to be special—Sicheng’s life certainly isn’t easy and you certainly can’t tell him that it’s okay. So you just listen, like you listen to the seashells, and the sound of the waves.

“She barely looks at me. Am I even her son?”

Sicheng sighs, exhausted from all the talking and you don’t know what comes over you but you run your fingers through his hair and gently pull his head down to rest on your shoulder. Sicheng sighs once more, but this one sounds more of relief and you smile to yourself.

The stars come out and you point out the ones you know to Sicheng, who turns his head sometimes and you feel his breath on your neck.  

“My father worked so hard to be with the sea,” Sicheng mumbles, “If he finds me with a human, he won’t be very happy.”

Sicheng sits up straight as if he’s had a sudden revelation, and he turns to you with a determined look in his eyes. He leans in too fast for you to comprehend and places his mouth on yours, this time only a little longer, but pulls away nonetheless. Your ears turn hot and the beating of your heart is only amplified the longer you look at Sicheng’s wide-eyed expression.

“Sorry!” his voice has a sudden inflection. “I wanted to show you something, but it’s underwater so…”

Right. Of course. Kisses mean nothing to the children of the sea.

You nod, and he jumps off the rocks, waiting for you to follow. You walk behind him, the sand cool under your bare feet as you try to forget the lips of the sea prince on yours.

The warmth of the seawater almost makes you sigh but the sight of Sicheng in his most natural form makes you more so. Every ebb and flow of his movement mirror the sea itself and you can feel it in him, the beauty of life and its drift.

Sicheng holds your hand as he guides you through each tavern and cove till you reach a particularly dark area. But it isn’t dark for too long when you see the glowing green carpet of the ocean floor. The anemones pulsate with a sort of otherworldly light, changing colour with every blink and Sicheng motions at you to take a seat on the rocks just at the edge of the new world. Some fishes swim in and out, twirling and tumbling around in a happy dance and you beam at them, almost wanting to join them.

You don’t know how long you stay there, but it’s long enough for you to forget your life on land. It’s marks, however, come back soon as you notice the filth of humanity in the waters near the shore and your blood would boil if it weren’t for Sicheng reassuring you.

“It’s okay”, he smiled, unbothered. “We were all seafoam once and we will be seafoam again.”

When the ocean reclaims what is hers.

When you get back to the surface, you’re more comfortable in your skin than before and you let yourself hug Sicheng goodbye, ignoring the rush of blood to your face. There are a few warning signs going off in your head—this isn’t what’s meant to be, he’s only doing this to rebel, he might not even care for you. It accelerates your fears more so to think about Miss Wei and her words that stung a little, the seed of doubt planted in your head.

You can never trust water. You must never trust water. It is fluid, ever changing and cares only for its own survival, even if it means swallowing whole cities and drowning the innocent.

You elementary teacher was more than cynical that day, and you were left wondering how the ocean had broken her heart to such jagged pieces that they scarred so. It left you a bit shaken.

“Are you okay?” Sicheng asks when you’re lost in thought, and you snap yourself back to reality.

“Yeah,” you say, with your most supportive smile.

“Did you know the whales think they can reach the stars,” Sicheng says with a fond smile. “They only realize when they reach the surface. That the entire universe isn’t full of water. They’re never disheartened, though.”

“You can talk to fishes?”

“No, but I understand them.”

Sicheng tilts his head to look up at the stars and you admire his profile. A creature so elegant, so magical, so unreal—he’s there right beside you, talking to you as a friend, as if you’ve known each other for years. As if you’re equal, as if you deserve to be equal.

But you forget everything when Sicheng smiles at you, when he looks like an ordinary boy with ordinary problems. His hands are never cold to you, like he so complains and for once, you’d like to hold them without any restriction.  

Sicheng tenses up when you reach out to stroke his cheek, and you’d be embarrassed by now if he didn’t come closer to you, relishing your touch. You’d be even more embarrassed for leaning in if he didn’t at the same time. But you feel his breath on your lips and it’s enough for you to complete the kiss—a different kiss than before. It’s slower, for one, and Sicheng laughs somewhere into the kiss, unable to contain himself.

“You can’t do that!” you laugh with him.

“I just,” he says in between laughs, “I never thought you’d kiss me.”

“Did you not want me to?”

“I did,” he says, a little more sombre, “I did so bad.”

And so, under the moon smiling on at you, you share your second, third, fourth kisses with the boy whose breath smells like the sea breeze.

Sicheng shifts uncomfortably under his father’s gaze. It isn’t everyday he’s called for a meeting and although he’s got the hang of princely duties by now, he’d be a little disgruntled to be crowned king anytime soon. It’s not like he has a terrible relationship with his father either, but right now, the grim look on him does not let Sicheng relax.

“A human,” his father says, and Sicheng tenses up. “After all I did to save you from a miserable life up above, you still do this.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Not like that?”

“Yes.” Sicheng’s voice has a tremor to it. “I couldn’t leave the sea even if I wanted to.”

“So you’re going to make them leave their home?”

“No,” Sicheng says, a little mortified that he might have to ask that of you. “I’ll let it go if…if they don’t want to.”

“And stay here heartbroken?” His voice has softer edge to it now.

“Are you giving me a choice?”

“You’re going to sit and you’re going to think,” he says, regaining his stern tone, “and if you’re still not fine after that, there’s nothing I can do to stop you.”

Sicheng nods, his heart heavy. What if you don’t even care that much, and he’s let himself fall? What if humans are truly as terrible as his teachers taught him? He’s never believed that, and he doesn’t think he will anytime soon. The dreams don’t lie, his teachers had said. But he does need to think, and he does need to sort out his own emotions. After all, a restricted life doesn’t call for much self-introspection.

When you don’t see Sicheng for a whole week, you panic a little. It’s also rained for three days straight, and you can’t stay at the beach for too long before the clouds gather up again to spill all their rage onto earth. The sea level has surged and although there’s a tsunami warning, you’re sure nothing too eventful will happen in this town of yours.

When you wake up to water at the entrance to your house, you’re proved wrong. It wasn’t exactly a tsunami, but a silent creeping of the sea level which no one can figure out yet.

Sicheng stands a few feet away, water up to his knees but without a tail like you’re used to seeing when he’s inside water. The golden lines painted across his face occasionally flicker alive before fading back into his normal skin tone. He grits his teeth and the scratches the back of his head like he’s guilty of something, and you wade towards him.

“Sicheng! What’s going on?” you say when you’re close enough.

“I need to talk to you,” he answers, his voice low and raspy. There are dark circles under his eyes and while his words send another bout of anxiety through you, you let him kiss you before you move further under the waters.

Sicheng sits beside you on top of the lion which is now mostly submerged except for the top part of it. He gulps twice before speaking.

“I dreamt of you,” he says, “I dreamt of you a long time ago.”

“I dreamt of you at the beginning of summer,” you state.

“I know. That’s the second time I dreamt of you.”

Sicheng purses his lips before running his fingers through his hair. You wait, breathless, as he comes up with some way to tell you whatever he has to say.

“We’re supposed to see our…our partners in our dreams,” he says, “My father panicked so much that he didn’t allow me on land till I was fifteen. Till I forgot about you.”

His father found out this time too, and that’s why you haven’t seen him all week, that’s why the sea’s been so disrupted the past three days. It doesn’t matter now, he says. He has the ocean on his side, he’s always had it on his side but he’s never realized that he deserves a happy ending. The sea goddess of luck and blessings, his mother dearest had a talk and if there’s one thing she’s done for her son except bring him to life, it’s giving him her blessings.

“Will you come with me?” he asks, “If I ask something so selfish, will you still...love me?”

Much to his apparent surprise, you nod, mumbling a ‘yes’. The sea’s been kinder to you, and you’ve never had it in you to part with it, never found the land interesting enough to explore. You’ve always been running, and you don’t mind at all now—leaving the running behind. Sicheng cups your face before pulling you into a deeper, fuller kiss and you feel a weight lift off your shoulders, sighing against his touch.

Sicheng places his forehead against yours, and whispers something that you’re too caught up in the moment to understand.  

“You’re mine?” he asks, a little unsure, his eyes still wide. “You’re mine now? You can come with me?”

“Mhm,” you nod, a dizzying feeling taking over as you melt into his touch.

And just like Sicheng said, you’ll all be seafoam someday. But for now, you can live in his reality, in his endless ocean. You don’t think for one second that his palms are cold to touch for they warm you enough to make you keep them pressed against your cheek.

#me @ myself reading the ending: you big chonk of cheese #you cheesy fucker #nct scenarios #nct 127 scenarios #wayv scenarios #sicheng scenarios #winwin scenarios #dong sicheng #nct winwin scenarios #winwin fluff #sicheng fluff #sicheng angst #nct winwin fluff #nct imagines #winwin imagines #nct x reader #sicheng x reader #nct 127 fluff #nct fanfic #nct writing #moonwrites #im so stressed these days i either write too much or not at all #and delete whatever i write

[trashyswitch]

YouTube Collabs be like...

Chapter 1: 2 Dares...That’s All it Took...

Jack and Felix are filming a video together! The filming experience becomes a roller coaster ride, as their adrenaline becomes tested.

WARNING: A couple swears.

“DINGDINGDINGDINGDING! TOP OF MORNING!” Jack yelled in his chair.

“TOP OF MORNING! SWEDISH NOISES!” Felix yelled beside him. Jack chuckled.

“WOW! YOU’RE SWEDEN?! I HAD nO iDeA!” Jack joked, placing his hands on his cheeks in pure ‘surprise’.

“SuRpRiSe! I is SwEdEn!” Felix said, purposefully messing up the grammar.

“WOOOOOW! Hi Edgar!” Jack cheered in a baby voice, completely changing his focus from the camera to the little black pug that was suddenly in front of him.

“EDGAR! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE! We are RECORDING!” Felix yelled, jokingly before picking up his pug.

“WAIT! One last pet!” Jack begged. Felix rolled his eyes, before letting Jack pet his head.

“Pat pat!” Jack said in a baby voice as he scratched the dog’s head. After Jack did his thing, Felix walked away with the pug in hand.

“BYE EDGAR!” Jack yelled, with a pouty face.

Soon, Felix came back on camera to continue with the video.

“Alright! So, what are we doing?” Felix asked.

“We’re doing a dare challenge. Now, on Twitter, me and Felix put up dares for us to choose, and the best dare gets chosen.” Jack explained.

“Alright. I have mine, and you have yours. What’s your dare?” Felix asked.

“Right! This one was tough. There were A LOT of good dares out there. But the best dare I came across, was by FuzzyPineapple. ‘I dare you to play the latest game in the ‘Whack the’ series: ‘Whack the Serial Killer.’ And telling by the likes and comments, it looks like there are thousands of people who agree...Now, I’ve played these games before-“

“I have as well, but not this one yet.” Felix interrupted.

“Ya, I haven’t had the chance to play this one yet.” Jack finished.

“Oh boy! Can’t wait! Is it gonna be more gory than the others?” Felix asked as he typed the game into the search bar.

“Well, considering the last game, whack the burglars, was really bad and gory, something tells me it’s gonna get much, MUCH WORSE.” Jack predicted. Felix clicked on the right website, and turned it onto full screen.

“So, WARNING! RIGHT NOW! LOTS OF GORE! LOTS OF TERRIFYING GORE!” Felix warned as the loading screen showed up.

“Yes! Watch at your OWN RISK! If you have a weak stomach like I do, don’t watch this. Heck, I shouldn’t be playing this! WHY AM I PLAYING THIS?!” Jack asked.

“Cause people like watching you gag, apparently.” Felix replied as the first frame showed up.

The Whackit logo showed up onto the screen, as they continued to talk.

“Heheh...I mean, you may be right. There are probably some people who enjoy watching me gag. They enjoyed my surgery games and other ‘whack your’ games, so why wouldn’t they enjoy this?” Jack asked. Felix laughed as he eyed up the camera and shook his head, to show his disappointment he feels towards Jack’s fans.

“Okay. So, it’s the guy and his girlfriend walking, with whiskey!” Jack explained, watching the backstory.

“Hey! Don’t take the ste-god damn it...” Felix sighed, watching as the dog jumped into the hedge to get the steak in hand.

When the boyfriend turned around to find whiskey, the girlfriend had turned around with a surprised face. A guy with a needle had come up behind her and knocked her out.

“Oh my god! That would be so scary!” Jack reacted.

“True, true.” Felix replied.

In the next scene, the girlfriend is seen tied up to a chair, in a room surrounded by tons of weapons, perfect for killing people.

“Oh! My! GOD! NOPE! I DON’T LIKE THIS!” Jack shouted, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Is that a medieval torture bed? And an electric chair? And...a masked man cleaning his bloody tools...Awesome.” Felix added.

“Oh no...is there gonna be stabbing in the back in this?” Jack asked, nervously.

“Something tells me there will be.” Felix replied.

Suddenly, the camera pans over to a cage, with a dog in it.

“WHISKY! YOU’RE TIED UP!” Jack freaked out.

“Let the dog go, you maniac!” Felix begged before clicking the cage door with the mouse. Whisky’s paw hit the cage door to get it open.

“Come on! You can get it! OH! Oh yes! Go Whisky! Save that girl!” Jack cheered as the dog ripped the cage door open and untied the girlfriend with its teeth.

The girlfriend stood in fighting stance, and the instructions came up on the top left corner.

“Okay. Here we go. ‘Find all the 20 ways to kill the serial killer.’ Sounds easy.” Felix said.

“I hope there’s no combos. Those are hard, man.” Jack muttered.

“What should we go for first?” Felix asked.

“Uh...the torture table?” Jack said, hesitantly.

“.....okay.” Felix decided, as he clicked it. The girl walked to the right, and grabbed a sledgehammer.

“That’s not...” Felix muttered as the girl walked up behind the masked killer. Suddenly, she smacked the sledgehammer against the man’s head.

“OOOOH! Yikes, man!” Jack cringed, holding his fists against his temples.

“Well, that worked.” Felix added.

15 minutes later

The scene fades in with the serial killer’s unmasked face, and body attached to the table.

“Oh no...Is this gonna be Whack the neighbor all over again?” Jack asked, nervously holding his hands up, to cover his face at any point.

“Maybe. It’d better be accurate this time!” Felix warned. The lady spun the cylinder towards her, so the hands and feet could be pulled away from him, dislocated his limbs in the process.

“NOPE! OOOOH THAT’S BAD! EXACTLY like Whack your neighbour!” Jack winced.

“OH MY GOOOOOOD! Okay, it’s portrayed a little more accurately this time! Awesome!” Felix cheered, giving a thumbs up to the camera, as the serial killer’s limbs decapitated from his body.

BLOODY

“‘Bloody’. Ya, no shit!” Jack commented, reading the single text that popped up as the girl escaped with her dog.

“Okay! Next one!” Felix announced as the scene was ‘reversed’ like a VHS tape, to the beginning.

“What next? It’s your turn.” Jack asked.

“Hmm...What is this box of toys?” Felix asked, as he clicked on it. The girl walked up to the cardboard box of toys, and knocked it down. Inside, there was a Chucky doll and a few other unrecognizable toys.

“YOU DUMBASS!” Felix yelled.

“WHY, THE FUCK, DO YOU HAVE A CHUCKY DOLL IN YOUR BASEMENT?!” Jack exclaimed.

The Chucky doll ran up to the serial killer, cut off his leg and waited for him to lose balance and fall. Then, he stabbed him in the chest.

“I mean technically, you brought this upon yourself-“

“BUT WAIT! THERE’S MORE!” Felix interrupted as the other 4 toys shot up and started beating up the serial killer in a cloud of dust and sound effects.

After the hidden toy (with the drill on its head) drilled through the serial killer’s entire head, the 5 toys vanished!

“BAHAHAHA! JUST LIKE FAIRIES!” Jack bursted out, laughing at the disappearing toys.

“You know, for scary creatures, your vanishing act needs some work!” Felix critiqued.

The VHS reversing clip rolled once again, and they resumed back to square one.

“What now?” Felix asked.

“The electric chair.” Jack said. Felix clicked on the electric chair, and a message popped up onto he screen.

“‘This object requires a second to work’. Ummm...fire? Toolbox? hammer? Scissors? Rope? It’s rope!” Felix said out loud as he finished the combo. Suddenly, the girl jumped up, a wooden plank in hand, and slammed it down onto the serial killer’s head.

“DAMN!” Felix reacted.

“I know you had muscles from that time you beat up some creeps, but JAY-ZUS!” Jack reacted.

Next thing they knew, the serial killer was in the electric chair, unmasked, and the girl was pulling the lever on and off, electrocuting him and turning him to pure skeleton.

“Well that escalated quickly...” Jack commented.

“That’s about what I expected from an electric chair death.” Felix added.

A few deaths later, and Felix had managed to find a combo kill: A wooden mallet and a sharp stick.

“Oh boy...not in the back, not in the-AW, COME ON!” Jack exclaimed, frustrated that he has to watch an altered version of his worst nightmare.

“Right in the chest!” Felix encouraged. Just as Felix wanted, the girl readied the stick, and hammered it through his chest, with the mallet. On the other side, the heart could be seen with the stick pierced through it.

“Oh dear god...NO! JUST NO!” Jack yelled, rubbing his forehead.

“What’s wrong Jack? Don’t like being pierced in the back?” Felix asked.

“No! I don’t! Change that stick and mallet to a blade, and that would be my worst nightmare.” Jack replied.

“Oooh. So you don’t like the idea of being stabbed in the back...literally.” Felix clarified.

“Literally. Don’t like it.” Jack clarified for him.

Another couple deaths later, Jack and Felix came across the cage and the mouse.

“Oh no. Is this what I think it is?” Felix asked as the girl walked to the right. She grabbed the sledgehammer, walked towards the serial killer and knocked him out with it.

15 minutes later:

The serial killer was tied up, similarly to the first kill of the video. Except this time, the girl placed the mouse under the cage, and heated up the cage with a blowtorch.

"YYYYEP! I WAS RIGHT!" Felix said, accepting his ruined mental state, as fate.

“Oh please no...” Jack begged.

“You’re not gonna like this. It’s medieval torture.” Felix warned.

“I know it is.” Jack replied, nervous of what he'll have to watch.

30 minutes later

“OH GOD! OH GOD THAT’S BAD!” Felix shouted, still watching the screen.

“OH...DEAR LORD! THAT’S DISGUSTING!!” Jack yelled, pushing his fists into his temples.

30 minutes later

“Is he-“ The Irish man took one look at the mouse wiggling in the serial killers corpse. Instinctively, he started gagging. “Nope! *gags* Okay-*Gags* It’s inside of him. *gags* I can’t look anymore. Oh, fuck that.” Jack muttered as he turned, covered his mouth with his hand.

“That’s insane.” Felix said, before looking at his disgusted friend. “You okay, Jack?” He asked.

“I’ll be okay. Just give me a sec...” Jack said, as he attempted to control his gag reflexes.

1 hour later

“Is it still going on?” Jack asked, looking away from the computer screen.

“Yup. We can skip it if you like.” Felix suggested.

“Yes please.” Jack replied. Felix clicked the red skip button on the bottom right corner of the screen, and the whole scene was fast forwarded, and brought back to square one once again.

After watching a few more deaths, they felt like they were ready to experience what could possibly be the worst one.

“You ready?” Felix asked.

“I don’t know...” jack replied, covering his eyes with his hands. Felix snickered. “What?! I’m nervous, okay?” Jack exclaimed, offended by Felix’s slight laughter.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then.” Felix said, before clicking the surgical tools.

“Just like surgeon simulator, right?” Jack said out loud to himself, hesitantly.

The girl grabbed the plank, jumped in the air, and dramatically knocked the serial killer out cold.

“YES QUEEN! Knock him out REAL GOOD!” Felix cheered.

15 minutes later:

“I hear screams...WHAT THE FUCK?! OH NOO!” Jack screamed, cupping his own head with his hands.

“AAAAAHH! I DIDN’T NEED TO SEE HIS EXPOSED BRAIN!” Felix shouted, using his hands to block the laptop screen, so he couldn’t see it.

“HOW DO YOU KNOW HOW TO DO THAT?! I mean, I know it’s just cuts to the stomach, but there are multiple layers to the brain!” Jack explained, as he watched the horror unfold.

The girl fed a piece of meat to the dog, before walking back to the ‘surgical’ table. Then, she grabbed onto the middle of the brain with the tweezers, and yanked at the piece of brain until it removed itself.

“THIS IS INSANE! At this point, THAT GIRL IS THE SERIAL KILLER!” Jack shouted.

The girl walked up to the fireplace, started putting the piece of brain in the fire, and...fed it to Whisky.

Felix gasped. “DON’T FEED THAT TO THE DOG! THAT’S NOT DOG FOOD!” Felix shouted.

“NO! NO NO NO, STOP THAT! AWWW! THE POOR DOG! DON’T FEED THE DOG THE BRAIN!” Jack shouted, partially sitting up from his seat.

The girl walked back to the exposed stomach, and ripped a square layer of skin, out of the serial killer’s abdomen.

“Oh dear LORD! That must hurt SO BADLY!” Jack winced at the serial killer’s screaming.

“NO MORE! THAT’S DISGUSTING!” Felix yelled.

“STOP FEEDING BRAIN TO THE DOG! I mean, I’m guilty because I fed Sam and Samsonite rotten flesh, but THIS ISN’T FOOD! THIS IS FRESHLY COOKED HUMAN BRAIN!” Jack screamed.

“I can’t watch anymore. I’m done.” Felix decided, sitting out of the chair and walking away from the set.

“Yup! I’m joining you. I’m gonna throw up if I keep watching this.” Jack said, following Felix off camera.

The scene continued to take place, as each piece of the Serial killer’s stomach and brain was ripped, cooked and eaten by the dog.

After a few more minutes, a distant, Irish voice could be heard from off camera.

“Is it done?” The voice asked.

“It’s done.” Another voice replied.

“Okay good.” The voice said, as the person walked back to his seat, in front of the camera. The voice had belonged to Jack. The other voice came back as well, revealing itself to be Felix.

“Okay. Can we move onto your dare? I’m not in the mood for anymore blood and gore.” Jack asked.

“Sure.” Felix replied, clicking the X button with his mouse.

“Oh thank God.” Jack reacted, calming himself down with some water.

“Okay. It was tough for me to pick a dare as well, because everyone had so many good ideas. But I eventually came across a particularly interesting one. This comment is from a person called ‘I like memes’. Hey! I like memes too. It says ‘I dare you to watch Jacksepticeye’s video: Read your Comments #95, and skip to 9:03.’” Felix said.

Jack’s eyes widened. “Oh god...” Jack started as his hands gripped the armrests.

“What?” Felix asked.

“Uh...nothing. Nothing.” Jack said, deciding to keep himself calm to not raise suspicion. Felix dismissed him, and typed ‘Jacksepticeye Read your comments #95’ into the search bar.

Almost immediately, a smile grew onto Felix’s lips as he eyed up the thumbnail. ‘Are you ticklish?’ He read. He dropped his head and gave a silent chuckle.

“You told everyone you’re ticklish?” Felix asked, looking over at his friend who was now sitting uncomfortably in his seat.

“Yyyeeeeeesss...” Jack started.

“Well now I HAVE to watch it!” Felix said. Jack groaned and leaned back in his chair. “Hey! A dare’s a dare! Besides, I’m getting curious.” Felix said, clicking on the video.

“Alright. And the dare included a specific number to skip to.” Felix said, moving his mouse to the time closest to the recommended time slot.

“‘Are you ticklish?’ MOTHER OF GOD YES! Not in-...it’s weird. On my sides, I’m not that ticklish. Only on my right side. On my right side I’m super ticklish. I can even tickle myself. Which a lot of people are like: ‘you can’t tickle yourself! It’s impossible!’ I can tickle myself cause there seems to just be...a big ball of nerves that run down my right side, and if I touch it, it kinda like-" Jack pokes his own right side, causing his body to jolt and curl in. “Makes me-“ He added, making his body jolt and spaz again. “-go like that. It doesn’t make me laugh or anything, it just makes me all spaz out. But, on the left side, I’m fine. I mean, if somebody else tickles me, I’m ticklish a lot. On my armpits, not so much. On my feet, not really. My feet don’t get ticklish, they get itchy. If somebody like-" Jack started moving his hands up and down, imitating drawing lines with all 10 of the fingers under his feet. “-gently rubs ‘em, gently rubs on my feet...then they get really itchy. I guess, ticklish. I dunno. But yeah, I’m really ticklish. Heheh. AND THAT DOES I-"

Felix paused the video, and hung his head. Jack couldn’t see it, but Felix had a big, toothy grin on his face.

“Bold move, Jack...Boooold move.” Felix said, as he walked over to his nervous friend, and walked behind Jack’s chair.

“Uh...what are you doi-“ Jack’s question was completely interrupted by a hand squeezing at his right side. “HEHEHEHEY! Nahahat ohohon cahahahamera!” Jack said through his new found fit of laughter.

“Last time I checked, YOU told your subscribers about your tickle spots with no difficulty at all! So, tickling you in front of your subscribers, shouldn’t be a problem!” Felix mocked, looking at the camera a few times through his dialogue.

He decided to switch up his finger tactics, and start scratching Jack’s side with all 5 fingers.

“FUHUHUHUHUCK!” Jack bursted out. His body had started to squirm so much, he was gonna fall off the chair! So, Felix decided to stop, lift up the ticklish lad under the arms, and kick the chair away.

“Felix! PUT ME DOWN! RIGHT NOW- Nohohohoho! You ahahasshohohole!” Jack yelled through his quiet laughter, squirming in Felix’s grasp.

“Hey! You keep on shouting at me, I’ll only tickle you more, ya understand that?” Felix teased, continuing to wiggle his middle finger under Jack’s armpit as he held him. Jack couldn’t bring his arm down to stop the finger, because of the way Felix was holding him! It was so annoying!

But, it didn’t last long, because before he knew it, he was being laid down onto the floor. Jack breathed a sigh of relief...only for his laughter to bubble up again, thanks to Felix’s clawing and wiggling at his terribly ticklish right side.

“FEHELIX PLEHEHEHEHEASE! NOHOHO MOHOHOHORE!” Jack begged, kicking his legs.

“Why should I stop now! You seem pretty comfortable!” Felix argued. He continued targeting Jack’s right side, and eventually decided to include his other hand.

But just to scare the poor lad, he lifted his free left hand, and started wiggling his fingers in front of Jack. All the while, the camera was capable of capturing everything from the side.

“FELIX, NO! I’M BEGGING YOU! DON’T YOU DA- NAHAHAHAHAHAHOHOHOHO!” Jack went absolutely ballistic! His laughter had raised an octave, and he was starting to feel tears in his eyes.

“Jesus Christ Jack! I’m not even doing much!” Felix claimed with a smirk. Soon, Felix decided to switch his finger clawing/wiggling, to something lighter yet unpredictable.

Felix jumped over Jack’s body, to sit at his friend’s right side. Then, he started lifting Jack’s shirt, and poking jack’s vulnerable right side.

“NOHO! Feheheli-WAHAHA! Nahat FAHAHAIR! Please! AAAH! STOP-NAHAHA! STAHAP POHOHOKING me!” Jack begged, attempting to cover up his vulnerable side.

“Okay, fine. I’ll stop.” Felix said with a calm smile. He let Jack just lay there, as he ran to the camera and picked it up.

“There! I hope you guys enjoyed that! I certainly did!” Felix said to the camera, before turning it around to face Jack. “Hey Jack! Got anything to say?” Felix asked.

Jack flipped his middle finger to the camera. “Yohohou guys suck...” Jack said with a smile, before moving the middle finger above the camera. “Especially you, Felix.” Jack added, before his left hand flopped onto the ground.

“Yup, I am completely aware.” Felix said to Jack with a smile. Despite his weak state, Jack’s facial muscles were eager to give a wide smile to the Swedish man. So, he let himself smile as he rolled onto his back.

Felix turned the camera back to himself. “Thank you, ‘I like memes’ for sending me that dare! This was really fun! Thanks to you, I know how to punish this guy when he’s being a little shit.” Felix said.

Felix laid down beside Jack and continued to film themselves selfie style. “Say bye, Jack!” Felix said. Instead of the bye he was looking for, Felix received a poke to the side.

“HEY! Bad boy!” Felix commanded, treating Jack like a dog.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be getting my revenge eventually. Perhaps YOUR subscribers would like to see that? Comment down below if you’re up for that!” Jack explained. Felix gave a smile, but visibly paled. “Okay. BYE!” Jack cheered.

“Bye!” Felix said, slightly nervous. He turned off the camera and placed it down. Before he left however, he turned towards Jack.

“You okay?” Felix asked.

Jack smiled. “I’m fine. But do we HAVE to put that up?" Jack asked.

"Uh...I would've said the same thing to YOU about your Read Your Comments video. You could've EASILY edited that comment out, and added a new one. But NOPE! You kept it in, and now you're paying for it." Felix explained. Jack groaned and let his head fall onto the carpet underneath him.

"So, to answer your question: Yes. we HAVE to put this up." Felix decided. Jack sighed and sat back up.

"God damn...then that means we HAVE to put up a revenge video at some point. Which means..." Jack said, standing up. "...I get to find out YOUR weak spots." Jack said in a loud whisper.

"NOPE! DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE!" Felix warned.

"Hey! You got yourself into this mess, by choosing this dare in the FIRST PLACE!" Jack said, trying not to laugh as he got the upper hand.

"YOU-YOU STARTED IT BY ANSWERING THAT COMMENT!" Felix argued, slightly scared.

"True...But I made this subject widely known early on, so I could get it over with and move on. You've taken SO LONG to tell YOUR subscribers about YOUR tickle spots..." Jack defended, holding his hands up at arrest.

"F...fine. You win..." Felix said accepting defeat.

"Wait, really?" Jack asked.

"Well, I minus well get this over with now, than wait." Felix explained, with a chuckle and a scratch to the back of the neck.

"Okay. When do you wanna record the revenge video?" Jack asked. Felix bursted out laughing.

"You want ME, to choose MY DEMISE DATE?!" Felix asked, shocked.

"Well, I wanted to give you the chance to say 'never' or, 'in a few months', if you're not comfortable with it. I'm not gonna do this if you're not comfortable with it." Jack explained. Felix sighed. Jack was being so nice to him! He now wishes that he had consented with Jack first, before recording the video.

"...N-Now I feel bad!" Felix whined.

"Hey! A dare is a dare. Plus, I've experienced worse." Jack reassured with a smile.

Felix sighed and returned the smile. "Alright. Tomorrow? So I can get this done and over with?" Felix asked. Jack's smile grew wider.

"Sure! We'll do this tomorrow. Just me, you, and your hysterical laughter." Jack replied, teasingly. Felix chuckled. He was expecting Jack to go hard on him. But with Jack's consideration and kindness, he started to realize this may not be as bad as he thinks...

#Ticklefic #lee!jack #ler!felix

[obsessionsposts]

Maw of the Beast

Warnings: mentions of abuse / slight nsfw.

Today is Halloween which meant a whole week vacation from the college.

You are pretty excited to see what people of Gotham has to offer this year from Carved pumpkins, free treats, wearing costumes, and your personal favourite reading urban legends.

 Halloween has always been your most cherished holiday since you were a child, for its morbidity and gothic atmosphere attracted you just like how moths are attracted to light.

 But what you didn't account for was a visit from the master of fear also known as the scarecrow.

🍁🎃🍁

Laying comfortably on your bed, smothering yourself underneath the warm welcoming covers of your bed as you read the famous novel "Frankenstein" by Mary Shelley.

Time ticked away, indulging into the intriguing content of the book until a ringing sound echoed through your living room, snapped you back into reality. Completely unaware of the colourless and odourless gas that has been spread as a result of a rigged ventilation system, you venture to the table.

"I wonder who it is? , Usually, nobody contact me at such an hour. Maybe a friend of mine", you shuddered all of sudden as if somebody has been watching you.

Ignoring your instinct as you pulled the telephone.

"Hello,(F/n) is that you?", you answered with every ounce of confidence you've left hoping it was prank from them.

"Tut,Tut,Tut. Guess again my little crow", Came an eerie voice that sends shivers down your spine, not the good one either.

"Sir, you must've gotten the wrong number", you answered with a stutter that unveils your queasiness as you balled your fists.

"Hmmm, No I don't I assure you that. But I have to say,Dear (Y/n), you have some refine tastes on horror. One thing that I admire about you", replied the cryptic man with a hollow voice.

Alarmed, you closed the telephone swiftly.

"....I need to take the offer of (f/n) to go with her/him. Maybe It was a deliberate prank from the neighbours, but it seems to real to be one.", you mused as your heart start to return to its normal pace.

🍁🎃🍁

The man, with burlap on his face and a noose tied around his neck, outside couldn't help but be aroused and overjoyed by the fear of soon-to-be his crow.

Oh the sound she produces was purely music to his ears.

The way she tried to repress her fears was adorable.

Her heart beats were orgasmic, so much as his hands drifted to his pants.

"No, not yet, Jonny. Patience. I want her as much as you do but we need to deal with that bothersome "friend" of hers, shall we give them a scare they won't wake up from", a deep rumble elicited from the scarecrow.

"Indeed we shall,she'll be ours by any means necessary", added Jonathan with a wry grin that could rival the Joker and prepared his infamous fear toxins.

🍁🎃🍁

You are walking alongside your friend to all hallow eve feast which is in Gotham University.

As your friend blabbered about different subjects, your mind is currently in processing what happened an hour ago, not every day were you this...terrified even in such incident.

Most of the time you were calm to the point of having a neutral expression stitched to your face or as your friend call it 'Resting bitch face'.

Either way, as you were pondering on what happened you didn't notice a small rock on your path which led you to stumble and fall on the hard concrete.

Your friend gives you a look of concern as they check on your knees to see a small bruise forming on your knees.

" Geez,(Y/n). You need to watch where you go or you'll hit your head on a wall or somethin'. Either way, it's not like you not to pay attention, so tell what happened?", as they cover your knee with a bandage and gave you a look of suspicion.

" I am fine, just a bit hazy that's all", you respond monotonously.

" Sure. Sure. I'll believe you not. But have you heard the news", exclaim your friend enthusiastically as they waved their hands in the air.

" Last week, One of the patients escaped Arkham...again.Bloody hell couldn't they maintain the place", your dear friend informed you.

Typical everyday news here at Gotham. Let's hope they don't ruin this particular night.

"You know,you're dissuading me from coming with you again", you playfully glared and punched them lightly on the shoulder.

"C' mon don't be like that plus we have already reached our final destination", as they grinned proudly at their so-amazing-pun. ( The movie)

" I hope you die from a scare tonight at least I won't be bothered with your predictable, yet frivolous jests for eternity".

You groaned rolling your eyes impishly at their ridiculousness, Heedless to your own words that will haunt you down later on.

🍁🎃🍁

Loud music and chatters blared around you dulling your scence of hearing.

'That's why I don't bother going out much,but hey let's get out of my comfort zone for a change'

You decided to split with your friend and head to the food stand and took some of the food with you.

Suddenly the music stopped playing which doesn't settle very well with you.

You need to look for (F/n) fast and get the hell out of here.

But today luck is clearly against you, as a green gas smothers everyone who is here inducing them to scratch and scream at others.

But what made the situation even worse is people start dropping dead like insects from the fright.

As tears start to prick your eyes and your breath hitched thank to whomever release the toxin, but surprisingly it didn't affect you at all unlike the others.

About time, you did find your friend only to see them laying lifeless on the ground.

Oh,god. What did you do to deserve this? Why would anyone do this?.

Tears rolled down your eyes as you remembered your last words to them.

Nonetheless,it didn't deter you from finding an exist to this hellish nightmare of a night; nearing one as you pushed through the gates of the collage. Abruptly, two tendrils encaged you into their cold tight embrace.

"it's time to take my naughty crow to her true home,hope you liked the surprise it's only for you,my little crow", the familiar man behind you whisper softly into the shell of your ear making you tingle from fear.

Slowly you faded into darkness.

Scarecrow lowered his head to take sniff out his beautiful ,fragile, and innocent crow.

" Now, you're finally ours we will never let you out of our sight again", meanwhile,Jonathan smiled victoriously and carried his asleep darling to their new cottage far from this damned city and its damned saviour.

🍁🎃🍁

Waking up to a throbbing head , groaning and mumbling profanities. You looked around you to find yourself chained to a bed post in a foreign place.

Trying to recollect your memory from the past events, but it was a blurr till a sharp hammering from the wooden door startled you from your stupor.

" It appears to be the effects of the drug is diminishing,now dear that you're awake tell me how are feeling? Do you need any assistence?",spoke the man gently as he start caressing your arm affectionately as if he was your lover.

You glared at him hate coursing through your eyes , pulled your arms back from his grip aggressively.

"........."

" Now don't be so abrasive,unless you wanted to treated as such. My name is Jonathan Crane or known as your saviour ,now (Y/n) let set basic ground rules that you mustn't break", The pale-ish,long dark haired, and lanky man introduced ardently as if he didn't murder a bunch of people to get to you.

" First, don't call me dear that's only reserved to my family and friends, and why haven't you offed me yet or are you waiting for the bat to come only to hold me as a leverage",you spat bitterly watching his pupils darkened at the aforementioned name.

" To answer your question, your way of dealing with fear is what attracted me at first sight; how you didn't repress it or let it control but took advantage of it to boost you fighting your trauma,especially after years of abuse at the hands of your "familiars". You can't hide that fact from me I know alot about you, I did my research on you, You lived your life in misery,suffering, and pain. For that I will keep you here to shield you from the malevolent nature of society and to give you what you lacked most of your life as that is love", jonathan replied gruffly as he encaged you tightly in his grip wiping your freshly tears as they processed to roll down after mentioning your past.

Suddenly, he pressed his lips toward your soft plumped one. Asking for permission to enter your mouth, but you refused ; frustrated he grappled your breasts harshly which elicited a gasp. As he slide his tounge to venture poking at every corner of the wet cave. Dipping your head to deepen the kiss you couldn't help but moan as he moaned and continued to ravage you like a dessert handed on a plate.

As it end leaving both of you and Jonathan out of breath; ashamed you decided to hide your face beneath the cover.

" Don't worry my dear, we will finish this as I come back , as I have to deal with a pesky bat", Jonathan gave one last smile and left you alone with your thoughts.

Exhausted from the horrors of today you decided to sleep with the hope of escaping that mad monster who clipped your wings.

A/N:My apologizes if I haven't update much, I was working with this one. Hope you enjoyed.

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere dc #yandere scarecrow #yandere dc villains #yandere villains

[iknowthisgirlfromgeorgia-blog]

cliché | 01

☽ pairings: hoseok x oc, taehyung x oc

☽ genre/warnings: fluff

☽ wordcount: 2.4k

☽ chapters: 1 | 2 (coming soon)

☽  ➝ summary: moving abroad for university comes with many surprises. a new house, a new life and most of all . . . new neighbours.

✧ ･ﾟ : * ✧ ･ﾟ : *

“I feel like I’ve been reborn,” Mae sounded out with an airy chuckle, making Saffron shake her head gently, suddenly awakened from her daylight slumber. Today was their first day abroad. 

A whole new country, a whole new house and a completely different life awaited the two just behind the corner, and Saffron couldn’t really say she was ready for it. The girl didn’t like changes, not at all, but this one simply had to be pursued. Moving to Canada was a big step for two college-aged women, but life can throw you into deep waters unexpectedly and without a warning. That’s what happened to her and Mae.

The letter that came in the mail one Saturday evening was a document Mae would cherish for the rest of her life. How could a little, beige envelope bring one such pride and joy? Well, how could it not? Getting into the college of your dreams was something any young, ambitious human would be ecstatic about, and that's exactly what Mae was clutching her acceptance letter from the University of Ottawa.

 Saffron herself was simultaneously upset and excited about the news. Mae would finally leave for Canada to pursue her dream, but on the downside . . . she’d be gone from her life, for who knows how long? The female couldn’t really stomach the thought of her best friend being gone for the entirety of collage. Heck, wasn't that when most people peaked? Saffron didn't want to experience her best without Mae. Yes, FaceTime and WhatsApp existed, but she knew maintaining a friendship would be difficult that way. Not even mentioning timezones.

What would happen to seeing each other every other day? What about movie nights and banana pancakes on Sunday mornings? Oh, Saffron loved Mae’s pancakes. Waking up at noon, dressed in her comfiest sweater, leaning against the kitchen island while watching her friend prepare breakfast was a ritual Saffron would never want to abandon. The light, fluffy dough engulfed in a thick, sugary syrup and, if the season allowed it, fresh berries was delectably a taste of heaven. The mere thought of the morning treat made the female’s mouth water with nostalgia and pure sentiment.

Enough pancake talk, though. The red-head females head felt like a storm cloud, filled with paroxysms of electricity and emotions she couldn’t really fathom with the little energy she had. There weren’t many options in this case, and the two both knew it. Saffron could stay there, in Seoul. The city they have both lived in for almost two decades now . . . or do the unthinkable. It took a long, troublesome week, but the decision was finally made.

 And it was the unthinkable option.

 They left within a month of the letters arrival. Mae was sceptical of Saffron's choice at first, worried about her friends sudden, possibly risky decision, but the girl wouldn’t be turned down that easily, and they both knew that very well.

”I’m coming with you, and that’s my final decision,” were Saffron’s final words as the two made their way past airport security. Her voice didn’t dare tremble, and that had to be a sign that she was sure of her decision to the very core of her being. Mae was silent this entire time, exhausted from hours upon hours of planning, packing and worrying, but Saffron couldn’t help but notice the slightest smile form on the girl’s lips once they boarded. It stayed there for the remainder of the flight, giving Saffron hope for a successful fresh start.

 Here they were now, sitting on the floor of their brand new living room, surrounded by countless cardboard boxes scribbled by black Sharpie. The condition of the house was more than decent, especially considering its long history of occupants! Cozy, affordable and somewhat well situated; the perfect combination for two highschool graduates. Not to mention the landscapes! Besides being surrounded by a nice neighbourhood, their new house was a short distance away from a forest. Who knew what secrets roamed about in the area? It was only a matter of time until the female would be able to pounce around, discovering every corner of the area.

 Saff’s hand traced the groves between planks of the wooden floor, noticing each bruise and crevice. It felt so cold and strange compared to the carpeted floors of her old apartment. The walls were empty and dulled, but clean. A paint job was possibly needed, but how hard could that be? It was difficult not to picture the moment the two would be able to start decorating them. Perhaps a bookshelf full of Mae’s favourite cookbooks, or an array of modern art pieces found at garage sales? The thought of marking the house as their own itself was enough to make Saffron’s heart skip a beat, cheeks flushed with excitement.

”Earth to Bae Saffron?” The female’s head shook once more, realising she was zoning out. ”Jet lag?” Mae questioned with a soft smile, lips stained a soft crimson.

To Saffron, it was always surprising how effortlessly put-together the girl could look. Ash blonde hair frizz-less, tied into a loose sock-bun with a few strands of hair framing her heart-shaped face. Her casual look was completed with an oversized, maroon hoodie draped over her slim figure. Simple, yet exquisite.

Saffron let out a soft sigh pass her lips at the girls playful question. What was occupying her mind wasn’t fatigue, but a sense of excitement and hopefulness for the future. After all, the two hadn’t had a chance to meet any of their neighbours as of yet, or even explore the area. Despite the obvious anxiety that came with meeting new people, Saffron was quite adamant on experiencing that part of moving. The female didn’t exactly have many friends back in Seoul, so starting fresh could be a chance for new relationships, platonic or not.

 "Hey, you," Mae started off once more, perhaps realising her question wasn’t to be answered anytime soon. “I did some thinking overnight, and I landed on a pretty neat idea,” She remarked, voice laced with excitement and pride.

Oh boy.

Mae's ideas had a tendency of being outgoing, and usually involved doing things Saffron normally wouldn't even think of. “What if we went out to meet our neighbours tomorrow? Try and settle in better.” She proposed, a smile lingering on her lips as she shrugged slightly, trying to come off as nonchalant. That was the typical Mae, her and her strange gift of knowing exactly what hr friends were thinking of at the given moment. Scary, but oddly amusing.

“Sure, why not.” Saffron answered, giving the older female a friendly smile and nod. It was quite relieving to have the female suggest socializing herself. After all, it was a burden off of Saffron’s shoulders.

“We are settled pretty close to the university campus, after all. I wouldn’t be surprised if we had more students scattered around the neighbourhood.” She chimed, brushing a stray fragment of hair behind her ear before digging her hands in the box labelled ‘books’.

 Saffron acknowledged her friend's comment with another brisk nod, before letting out a yawn, shifting her position to stand up with a pained groan. ”You’re getting old!” Mae laughed wickedly at her younger friend’s aching, getting an eye-roll thrown towards her as a sign of playful annoyance. Saffron couldn't help but let out her own series of giggles at her own misfortune, arms now extended to stretch out her joints.

“Damnit!” Mae cursed out suddenly as Saff’s own eyebrows stitched together in question. “What’s wrong?” She asked, as Mae cupped her face with a groan. ”I'm missing a box. It should be in the garage, or outside on the porch, perhaps . . . ”* she finally muttered, getting a soft ‘oh’ from her friend once she realised the issue. “I could fetch for you.” She told her simply, giving the older a reassuring grin. It’s not like she had much more to do, anyway. Unpacking boxes was boring and hefty, and the girl would rather be doing anything else if she was to be frank.

”Would you? Ah, you’re such a dear.” Mae spoke hoarsely, doing her best to imitate an elderly lady, which she definitely nailed. Giving her one last chuckle, Saff hopped out of the room, humming a soft tune to herself. Nothing in particular, merely a series of tones that went well together. Hand sliding into the pocket of her shorts, she made her way down the stairs and into the living room area. It didn’t look much different from any other room in the house, considering all that it held was a bunch of cardboard.

Saffron’s eyes searched each door in sight, as she finally managed to locate the entrance which surprisingly didn't have any distinguishing features that would help her in her task. Embarrassingly enough, the girl was still in deep confusion about the layout of their new home, even a week into moving in. She sighed in frustration, nimble fingers lacing around the metal doorknob before turning it with ease, door creaking upon pull.

 The weather was better than she would’ve ever expected from Canada. The sky was a deep grey shade, interrupted by a few rays of sunshine coming through. Air fresh and slightly damp, a neat compromise that Saff was somewhat okay with. The girl breathed in, arms raised as she allowed herself for a more thorough stretch, without any of Mae’s comments this time. "Now, where the hell is that damned box, huh?"

 ”Hey, you!” Saffron looked around, eyes widened at the sudden, unfamiliar voice coming from somewhere, clearly nearby. “Yeah, you. With the orange hair!” Her breath caught in her throat as she realised she was obviosuly the one being spoken to. She couldn't imagine anyone else sporting the bold shade of ginger she rocked.

Eyes narrowed and eyebrows raised, she finally caught sight of the only other human in the perimeter.

 A man, roughly in his twenties. Hair a soft brown, curling here and there to create an effortlessly flawless brunette arrangement. Skin fair and spotless even from several meters away, Saffron could clearly make out his dark brown eyes and pink lips which were twisted into the sweetest grin the girl had ever seen.

Despite the delicious sight in front of her, she didn’t allow herself any closer to the male without the proper questioning. “And who’s speaking?” She asked with a furrowed brow, a slight scowl on her face. She could only blame her hostile attitude on staying inside for the past week.

The man let out a warm laugh, and Saffron realised the silliness of her question only then when it was too late. He was sitting on the porch of a neighbouring house, fingers loosely gripping onto the rim of a can of soda. “Just a friendly neighbour. Isn’t it obvious?” He stood up, leaving the comfort of the wooden step as he made his way towards the fence. Saffron’s cheeks flushed a heated pink, partly due to the embarrassing nature of the situation, but mostly because of the man’s awfully confident stature. Hands rested against the top of the wooden fence, the female realised it was short enough to act as support for the man’s head as he propped it in the palm of his hand comfortably.

“I saw the moving van come through not too long ago. You’re new around here, aren't you?” He questioned, making Saffron take a cautious step forward. “We are. My best friend and I moved in about a week ago from Seoul. For university, and all that,” the female responded, arms crossing as she cocked her head to the side, slightly taken back by the man’s kindness.

 ”Seoul? We have more in common than I thought!” He exclaimed in child-like excitement, making Saffron chuckle softly at his beaming face.

“I moved here with my friend a year ago. Both of us study at UO,” Saffron’s eyes left his frame for a second, hearing the front door open once more, a familiar creaking making her wince.

“Saff?” Mae called out, approaching the short girl briskly, hand hooking around her shoulder comfortably. The man gave the newcomer a polite smile, studying both women closely. "Saff, huh? Nice to meet you. I’m Hoseok," He remarked.

“Nice to meet you, neighbour. I’m Mae, we moved here this week," the female chimed out, giving Saffron's shoulder a squeeze of encouragement. "But you probably know that already considering how long you two have been talking,” Mae chuckled teasingly, placing a hand on her hip as she gave Hoseok a nod.

Saffron gulped at the girl’s statement, realising the entire reason she was outside in the first place. “Funnily enough, we've been very keen on meeting our neighbours. It’s nice to walk into one of them like this!”* Mae acknowledged, getting a nod of agreement from her friend and a warm chuckle from their neighbour. "Well, I'm very happy we ran into each other, then!" he beamed, giving Saffron a conforting look. Was it visible she was nervous?

"Hey, we should do a formal greeting one day. Are you busy tomorrow?” Mae inquired, giving Saffron a gentle shake. Was she teasing, or did she want the female to take initiative? Whatever it was, Saffron was too focused on forming coherent sentences in her head to say anything.

 “Hobi!! Where the hell did you go, again?!" Another male voice came from inside the house, slightly deeper than Hoseok’s and muffled due to the distance. “Well, that’s my call. I’ll see you around?” He winked, before running back on his porch and disappearing back into the house, leaving behind only the possibly empty can of pop.

Saff let out a sigh as soon as the man left her field of vision, hands reaching to rub at her temples furiously. “This was . . . ” Mae started off, as she let go of the girl’s shoulder and proceeded to walk into the garage, locating the box she was looking for. “ . . . tiring?” Saffron finished off, earning an amused chuckle from Mae. “I was about to say exciting, but that works, too,”

✧ ･ﾟ : * ✧ ･ﾟ : *

#bts #bangtan #방탄소년단 #oc #original character #kpop #idol oc #idol #fanfic #kim taehyung #jung hoseok #tae #hobi #drabble

[bl-danmei-yaoi]

The General and The Courtesan

MATURE!!! Please check the AO3 link for any tags or triggers!!

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20010301

If there is a next life, I'd rather betray the world than to let you down. If there is a next life, I will throw away everything, and only love you.

“Meng Yao!” A shrill voice echoed down the halls.

 “Coming!” A young and sweet voice replied, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps. “What is it?”

 “The kitchen is out of rice! And while you’re outside, collect the new clothes and buy some new hair sticks for tomorrow’s event.” The owner of the first voice says.

 “Understood!” The other replied, quickly running off to do his errand.

 His name is Meng Yao. His mother was the most popular courtesan in the brothel, and he had been conceived in that brothel. His mother insisted on giving birth to him when she found out she was pregnant, strongly believing that his father would return to buy her freedom. However, his father never returned. Nonetheless, his mother, Meng Shi, continued to believe, bringing Meng Yao up in the brothel. From the moment Meng Yao learned to walk, he had been the brothel’s errand boy. After all, there is no free lunch in the world. As someone without freedom herself, Meng Shi is unable to bring up Meng Yao on her own. And so, Meng Yao was brought up by the people in the brothel who depend on him to run errands as payment for bringing him up. And even after Meng Shi dies, Meng Yao remains in the brothel as there is no where else he can go.

 Normally, Meng Yao would wear his own robes out to run his errands. However, this day was different. The shops selling jewellery had class and would not allow him to enter in such worn-out clothes as they will probably think he’s a thief or a beggar. Of course, no one would buy Meng Yao nice clothes to go to such stores. Instead, Meng Yao would wear his mother’s old robes. After all, a courtesan’s robes had to have standards. And since Meng Yao looked almost exactly like his mother, the feminine robes did not look strange on him, Meng Yao blending in perfectly as a woman.

 And it was that day that Meng Yao’s life changed. He met someone who treated him kindly without expecting anything in return. Someone who was not his own mother.

 Meng Yao had been robbed, the thief believing that Meng Yao was only a weak and helpless woman. Having to carry so many things, Meng Yao was truly helpless at that time. And then, a young man in elegant blue robes swooshes in and catches the thief, returning the purse to Meng Yao. When Meng Yao met the man’s eyes, he felt his heart skip a beat.

 Smiling sweetly, Meng Yao thanked the man, ready to give him monetary compensation. Gently, the man rejects the compensation, smiling warmly in return.

 “You must have been surprised,” The man says, voice making Meng Yao swoon. “Are you okay?”

 “Y…Yes…” Meng Yao blushes, looking down shyly.

 “You seem to have your hands full. Why don’t I help you carry them and send you to your destination?”

 “Ahhh…” Meng Yao wants to say yes. He wants to stay longer with this man. But at the same time, Meng Yao felt embarrassed. He could not let the man know he is going to a brothel. Although Meng Yao himself does not feel like he is lesser for being a courtesan’s son and for working and living in a brothel, he had been scolded and humiliated countless times by others. Although he is certain that the gentleman in front of him will not look down on him, Meng Yao does not want to tell the other. “It’s okay… Thank you very much but it would not be right for a young man like you to send a young woman like me home. I’m afraid there might be some misunderstandings…”

 “Right. I’m so sorry.” The man replies, apologetic. “Then…”

 “I… I’m Meng Yao!” Meng Yao suddenly says. Although he would probably never meet this gentleman again, Meng Yao wanted the other to remember him.

 “I’m Lan Xichen,” The man replies, smiling warmly. “Pleased to meet you.”

 S… Same!” Meng Yao stutters, flustered.

 “Xichen Ge!” Another voice interrupts, causing Meng Yao and Lan Xichen to turn to look at the owner of the voice.

 “Huaisang,” Lan Xichen calls, acknowledging the newcomer.

 “My brother is looking for you!” Nie Huaisang says.

 “Ah…” Lan Xichen looks at Meng Yao, unwilling to go.

 “Go, then. May we be able to meet again.” Meng Yao gives a sad smile before turning away. As if they would, Meng Yao thinks. They are people of different status. He is merely a lowly courtesan’s son, while Lan Xichen is a proper gentleman.

 --

 But as if fate would have it, Meng Yao meets Lan Xichen again, and a place Meng Yao did not want to see Lan Xichen at –  the brothel he is working at. Although Meng Yao knows that it is common for gentlemen and scholars to also frequent brothels, he did not want Lan Xichen in such a place.

 But what Meng Yao does not know is that Lan Xichen is not here because he wants to. Lan Xichen is a general of the Yi Empire and is here with some of the other military personnel on a mission. The Yi Empire and their neighbouring Wen Empire are preparing for war, and one of the reasons is for the land they are on now. The land did not belong to either country, but lately, due to the prosperity of the town on this land, both countries began eyeing it. According to the spies sent to the Wen Empire, many of their ministers frequent the brothel here. Hence, the Yi Empire’s commander Nie Minjue decided to bring some of the military personnel to the brothel for information. Whether they caught an actual minister or gathered information from the courtesans here, it was agreed that coming to the brothel would help them prepare for the war.

 As their timing would have it, they were in luck because the brothel is having their yearly “Flower Blooming” event. Every year, at the start of spring, the brothel would have a special auction for the first nights of their newly of-age courtesans. And of course, many of the Wen Empire ministers would not miss this. However, not having been to this brothel, the Yi Empire military personnel did not know of some of the brothel’s tricks. The owner of the brothel loved money, and they would never miss an opportunity to trick rich and naïve young customers. The brothel knows that some of the young masters that come here are brought here for the first time by friends. Sometimes willing, sometimes unwilling. But more often than not, many of these new customers are too shy to purchase a courtesan’s time. Hence, to help “ease” them, the brothel added some drugs that had aphrodisiac effects in their drinks. When the effects of the drugs hit, some of the other less popular courtesans would take the opportunity to take these young masters to bed, forcing them to pay for their time the next day.

 Being unaware of this, Lan Xichen falls victim to the drugs because he looks like the stereotypical young master dragged in by their friends. On the other hand, Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang appeared to be very familiar with the place, causing the brothel to choose not to bother wasting their drugs on them. As Lan Wangji and Nie Mingjue remained outside the brothel with a few other subordinates to watch for trouble, they are not drugged either.

 In the beginning, nobody notices that Lan Xichen is drugged. Quietly, the three had agreed to each follows a courtesan to the rooms so that they could catch the Wen Empire ministers off-guard. But when Lan Xichen enters a room that is on the opposite wing as Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang, the effects of the drugs finally hit.

 Lan Xichen feels his body heating up as blood travels down. Embarrassed, Lan Xichen tries to push the courtesan away but to no avail.

 “Aiyah… Gongzi… No need to be shy. I will serve you well.” The courtesan says, smiling sweetly.

 Lan Xichen’s eyebrows furrow in frustration, the thick smell of the courtesan’s perfume making his head dizzy. With his head hazy from the effects of the drugs, Lan Xichen is easily pushed down onto the bed by the courtesan. But before anything else can happen, Meng Yao sneaks into the room.

 After observing Lan Xichen for a while, Meng Yao had realised that Lan Xichen did not want to be there from the way he held himself awkwardly, keeping his eyes away from the courtesans. Knowing the tricks that the brothel used, Meng Yao did not want the pure and kind gentleman to fall victim. When Meng Yao sees that the courtesan forcing herself on Lan Xichen is the courtesan that used to bully him and his mother the most, Meng Yao’s vision turns red with anger. Impulsively, Meng Yao picks up the first thing he finds, a chair, and swings it over the courtesan’s head. When blood seeps from the wound, Meng Yao wakes from his sudden trance, fear filling his heart. He’s killed someone, Meng Yao thinks.

 Stepping forward shakily, Meng Yao brings a finger to the courtesan’s nose. Feeling the breath on his skin, Meng Yao sighs in relief. For these tricked new young masters who will only pay when they wake the next day, it was free game for any courtesan. Hence, it is not uncommon for courtesans to fight over them and get injured, especially for courtesans that have lost popularity. With the courtesan unconscious, Meng Yao quickly sneaks Lan Xichen into his own room, a small storage space at the backyard of the brothel.

 Settling Lan Xichen into his bed, Meng Yao softly says, “Wait a little while. I will go make some soup that will clear your mind.”

 But as Meng Yao turns to leave, he is pulled down into a strong chest. Looking up, Meng Yao meets Lan Xichen’s hazy eyes.

 “Gongzi?” Meng Yao calls out, struggling to escape Lan Xichen’s grasps. After the initial wave of weakness, the drugs will then return strength to the consumer so that they could act out on the desires stimulated by the drugs. Hence, Meng Yao is unable to escape. Feeling Lan Xichen breathing heavily yet resisting from acting any further than just holding him, Meng Yao feels his heart turn to mush. Meng Yao knows that Lan Xichen must be in pain, trying to hold back his desires. But even despite the haze of the drugs that lower his inhibitions, Lan Xichen is still trying his best to be a gentleman. Meng Yao thinks that it is at this moment that he falls in love with the other. Without much thought, Meng Yao leans forward as Lan Xichen leans down.

 At first, their lips brush against each other, light as a feather. Then, as if Lan Xichen feels like he has gotten permission, the kiss deepens, Lan Xichen’s tongue sweeping into Meng Yao’s mouth. Meng Yao moans into the kiss, fingers clutching tightly to Lan Xichen’s collars.

 --非礼勿视--

 When Lan Xichen comes to, he is confused to see blood on the bed. Because both parties were not experienced, and Lan Xichen was also drugged, the preparations were not done well. After their rounds of passion and Lan Xichen fell asleep, Meng Yao barely had any energy to clean the mess left inside him. Working at the brothel, there was still some knowledge that Meng Yao has, such as having to clean up whatever is left up your ass if you did not want to fall sick the next day. Meng Yao had wanted to clean the blood off the bed as well, but he just did not have the energy left.

 Just then, Meng Yao returns from the kitchen with breakfast in hand.

 “Here, gongzi. Drink this soup. It will help clear your mind.” Meng Yao says softly, bringing the food to the bed as there is no table in this small room. Lan Xichen notices the strange way the other walks, images from the previous night coming to mind. Recalling that the brothel was selling the first night of their young courtesans, Lan Xichen quickly comes to a conclusion. He has taken the first night of the “maiden” before him.

 “I will take responsibility for you and buy your freedom, Miss,” Lan Xichen says, and Meng Yao knows that the other has misunderstood his gender. However, Meng Yao lets it slide. He did not know if Lan Xichen will still accept him if he knew that he was a man. And although he may be lying to Lan Xichen like this, Meng Yao could not bring himself to admit the truth. Meng Yao wanted to stay by Lan Xichen’s side, and he feared the look of detest Lan Xichen may have if he knew. Hence, Meng Yao only nods quietly and smiles.

 Although the owner of the brothel is confused when Lan Xichen says that he wants to buy Meng Yao’s freedom as Meng Yao is technically a free person, the owner takes the money anyway.

 --

 Lan Xichen does not know how to feel. Although he was drugged and most memories of the night were hazy, Lan Xichen knows that he had enjoyed the night with Meng Yao. And not only because of that, but also because of his upbringing and a reason he could not name, Lan Xichen promises to take responsibility for Meng Yao. In all honesty, Lan Xichen has always thought that he would marry a woman chosen by his family, a woman who would be of status. And although Lan Xichen himself did not have anything against courtesans or people of lower status, he is not sure how he is going to explain himself to his family. Lan Xichen is also worried that his family would not accept a courtesan into the family. And as expected, when Lan Xichen returns to the inn the rest of the military personnel are currently staying at, his younger brother, Lan Wangji is the first to protest.

 “Who is that?” Lan Wangji asks, eyes clear with suspicion at Meng Yao.

 “Your future sister-in-law,” Lan Xichen says.

 “Our family will not accept a courtesan into the family,” Lan Wangji replies stoically.

“I know, but I will take responsibility,” Lan Xichen promises.

 “Well, it is about time General Lan has a lover,” Wei Wuxian jokes.

 “I trust that you know what you’re doing,” Nie Mingjue says, warning Lan Xichen not to blindly trust Meng Yao between the lines.

 --

 When they return back to the capital of the Yi Empire and Lan Xichen brings Meng Yao back to his family home, Meng Yao is rejected as expected. The Lan family are a respectable family that believed in one husband and one wife. This husband or wife can be poor or of lower status, but must come from a good family and have good morals. Hence, the Lan family could not accept Meng Yao, who came from a brothel, into the family. Unable to change each other’s mind, both sides agree to visit this topic in a later and better time. But in the meantime, Lan Xichen lives with Meng Yao in another house he buys.

 In this small little house, Meng Yao finally feels at home. Hence, when Lan Xichen suggests getting servants to take care of chores in the house, Meng Yao disagrees. This is his home, and Meng Yao did not want outsiders in it. Watching as Meng Yao busies around the house, cooking and cleaning, Lan Xichen feels a relaxed happiness. Smiling, Lan Xichen tries to help Meng Yao out.

 “It’s fine to just let me do it.” Meng Yao laughs as he sees Lan Xichen cracking an egg, shell and all, into a bowl.

 “I just wanted to help…” Lan Xichen explains, embarrassed.

 “You can help me wash the vegetables,” Meng Yao responds, happily giving Lan Xichen the job of washing things.

 It does not take long for Lan Xichen to finish washing. “I’m done. What else can I do?”

 Seeing Lan Xichen’s eagerness to help, Meng Yao cannot help but laugh again joy radiating from his being. Even though Lan Xichen is a young master who always had many servants doing the chores, never once having to any himself and is hence terrible at all the chores, he still insisted on helping Meng Yao.

 “Hmm… Can you cut the meat then?” Meng Yao suggests.

 Lan Xichen easily nods. As a general, Lan Xichen is familiar with using a sword. Hence, he does not think that a small kitchen knife would be much different. However, Lan Xichen is wrong, accidentally giving himself a cut on the finger. “Ah!”

 Hearing Lan Xichen’s sound of pain, Meng Yao quickly drops what he is doing and rushes over to Lan Xichen. Picking up Lan Xichen’s hand worriedly, Meng Yao quickly sucks on the injured finger, that being the only emergency first aid he knows. Meng Yao is still fussing over Lan Xichen’s injury when he realises that the atmosphere has suddenly become very ambiguous. Looking up, Meng Yao sees Lan Xichen looking at him like a predator looking at its prey. Immediately, Meng Yao’s cheeks redden as he realises the insinuations of his actions.

 “The sun is still out,” Meng Yaos softly says, taking Lan Xichen’s finger out of his mouth and instead running water over the wound. Lan Xichen smiles indulgingly in response. Meng Yao is so shy, Lan Xichen thinks happily. But what Lan Xichen did not know was that the reason why Meng Yao only allowed them to be intimate after night falls in the dark is to hide the fact that he is a man.

 --

 Their happy domestic life does not last long, because the war between the Yi and Wen Empire is starting. Lan Xichen does not want to bring Meng Yao along, because Meng Yao’s safety is important to him.

 However, Meng Yao insists on coming along. “Although I am not yet your wife, I want to help you and be by your side. Besides, the other generals and other high-ranking soldiers all bring their wives to serve them in camp. Is it perhaps because you don’t consider me your wife that you won’t bring me along?”

 Being unable to rebut, Lan Xichen finally agrees to let Meng Yao follow. The wives would be safe in the camp and won’t be brought to the battlefield, Lan Xichen comforts himself.

 --

 Meng Yao does not know who spread the rumours that he was a courtesan, but soon, all the wives in the camp are against him. Even if it is not because of his status, they would still have hated him when they see how their husbands look at him. Because Meng Yao looks very much like his mother, he looks very beautiful and feminine despite being a man. Furthermore, it is not difficult to unknowingly pick up things when living in the brothel, such as how to move and smile and talk in ways that are beautiful and elegant. The other wives began to be certain that Meng Yao is trying to seduce their husbands. After all, what can one expect from a prostitute?

 And so the other wives group together to pick on Meng Yao. Of course, being well-versed in the art of war in the harem as their husbands could have many wives, the band of wives are careful not be get caught by other people.

 When the men are out either strategizing or fighting, the band of wives would force Meng Yao to do their chores. If Meng Yao protested, they would physically hurt him, either by throwing things at him or hitting him themselves. And because of their own experiences, the band of wives knew how to hurt him without leaving marks. If it was one-on-one, Meng Yao would be able to save himself. But because they came on him as a group, Meng Yao can only give in. And all the while, the band of wives never forget to scold and insult him.

 “What a filthy whore!”

 “I don’t know how many men have used her!”

 “I heard that many of these prostitutes use drugs to force men to pay for their time. I bet she did this to General Lan too! Taking advantage of General Lan’s kindness, she’s just a filthy unwanted bitch!”

 Meng Yao feels like he is close to bursting. But he bites down on his teeth and forces himself to drown out the condescending voices. Meng Yao knows that if he told Lan Xichen that he was being bullied by the other wives, Lan Xichen would believe him and seek justice on his behalf. But Meng Yao could not be so wilful, because they are currently at war and the harmony of the men must be kept. The husbands of these wives are all high-ranking soldiers as well, so it would not be good for Lan Xichen to have any conflict with them. And at the end of the day, Meng Yao is used to the abuse. Other than the additional slut-shaming, it isn’t too different from when he was still working at the brothel.

 --

 Days pass by like this, until one day, Meng Yao is cornered by a group of soldiers on his way out of his tent. Lan Xichen and the other high-ranking soldiers are having a meeting in the main tent away from here, and the other normal soldiers are having free time. Somehow, rumours had spread even to the normal soldiers, and everyone knew that Meng Yao was a courtesan. What Meng Yao does not know is that this was a result of the band of wives. Realising that Meng Yao took their bullying calmly, the band of wives began feeling annoyed and angered. Hence, they would gossip loudly about Meng Yao, allowing the rumours to spread. And more importantly, they had planned to have a group of soldiers force themselves onto Meng Yao. To them, it is to let Lan Xichen see Meng Yao’s “true face”. After all, the band of wives believed that all courtesans are filthy whores who seduced and slept with many men.

 After many weeks of fighting in the war, many of these soldiers did not get to relieve their sexual needs. Hence, it is not difficult for the band of wives to lure a group of them into cornering Meng Yao in his tent.

 Meng Yao sees the perverse looks on the soldiers’ faces, and a shiver runs down his spine in fear. There are six of them, and only one of him, and his way out is completely blocked.

 “As expected of a prostitute,” One of the soldiers leers. “Very beautiful and delectable.”

 “Yes indeed. Look at that porcelain skin, must be very smooth, unlike our calloused hands.”

 “Hahaha… Why don’t you touch and see for yourself?”

 “Do you not know who I am?” Meng Yao tries to scare them, but the step back he takes only serves to make them laugh.

 “Of course! You’re a whore. Hahahaha!”

 “I’m General Lan’s w-” Meng Yao wanted to say that he was Lan Xichen’s wife, but they have yet to marry.

 “Hahaha! You want to say that you’re General Lan’s wife? Don’t make me laugh! How pitiful. You must think that you can marry into General Lan’s family. But the Lan family will never accept a whore into their family!”

 The words hurt Meng Yao’s heart, because he knows that it is true. He will never be able to marry Lan Xichen because he is a man too. Nonetheless, it doesn’t stop Meng Yao from trying to reason his way out. “Whatever it is, I belong to General Lan! If you touch me, General Lan will not let you go!”

 “Hahaha! You are only a prostitute. A whore! You are here only for us to enjoy. We are General Lan’s trusty soldiers. We fight on the battlefield with him! We are more important than a filthy bed warmer like you!”

 “Let’s not bother arguing with this whore anymore. I’d rather we get a move on. I can’t wait anymore!”

 “Hahaha. You can go first then.”

 As the soldiers begin tugging at his clothes, Meng Yao feels like he could not breathe. Fear has clenched his chest tight, and he feels his mind emptying out. Just then, a thought flashes through his mind and Meng Yao dives to catch the sword a soldier threw down when removing his own clothes. Quickly, before anyone else could respond, Meng Yao withdraws the sword from its hilt and cuts forward. The adrenaline gives Meng Yao the energy to kill the man before him. And instead of fear and horror at having killed a man, Meng Yao suddenly feels calm. And then, Meng Yao feels elation. For once in his life, he stood up for himself and fought back. If no one else could give him justice, then he would fight for his own justice. However, this fight is not easy. Because as soldiers, the other men do not take long to respond, whipping out their own swords.

 Just then, a voice rings out, “Stop!”

 Immediately, Meng Yao drops the sword, hands shaking from either excitement or fear.

 “A-Yao!” Lan Xichen’s voice that follows immediately turns all feelings Meng Yao has to fear. No… Meng Yao thinks. He’s let Lan Xichen see the filthy part of himself.

 “What happened here?” Nie Mingjue asks, anger clear in his voice.

 But before any of the people involved could say anything, they hear another voice that says, “Aiyah… Meng Yao is a man?”

 Immediately, Meng Yao looks down and he realises that the soldiers had successfully pulled off the most important part of his clothes, revealing his identity as a man.

 “Xichen, did you know?” Nie Mingjue asks. And even though Lan Xichen does not reply, his expression clearly says that this is a surprise to him as well. Narrowing his eyes at the dead body of one of his soldiers, Nie Mingjue orders, “Tie Meng Yao up and bring him for interrogation.”

 Hearing this, Lan Xichen is woken from his stupor. “Shouldn’t we ask what these soldiers are doing in my tent surrounding A-Yao first?”

 “Do you not see what the circumstances are here now?” Nie Mingjue replies fiercely.

 “What I see is that a group of soldiers have barged into the tent of my wife and have tried to -“ Lan Xichen argues but is interrupted.

 “He’s not your wife. And whatever it is, he’s killed one of my soldiers. We are on the battlefield now, Xichen. This is not a time or place for your benevolence. Bring him for interrogation!” Nie Mingjue orders.

 Lan Xichen has no choice but to obey the orders of his superior.

 --

 “What information have you sent to the Wen’s?!” Nie Mingjue asks, certain that Meng Yao is a spy.

 “Commander Nie, Meng Yao is not a spy,” Lan Xichen insists, heart clenching in pain as he sees Meng Yao getting whipped.

 “Don’t be so naïve, Xichen. We were preparing for war and finding out information about the Wen’s. And just at this perfect timing, you suddenly had your heart moved by a courtesan? Don’t lie to me anymore. You were drugged by this filth and forced to take responsibility, right? He is not even a woman, but a man! Yet, he gave his body to you. What would he possibly want? No man will willingly lie under another man! It is clear that he is selling his body for information!”

 “A-Yao is not that kind of person!”

 “Yeah? What do you even know about him? You think you know him! A young courtesan sold into a brothel. Ha! In the end, he isn’t even a prostitute!” Nie Mingjue mocks. Then, turning to Meng Yao, he orders, “Speak! What is your true background?”

 “I… My mother was a courtesan at the brothel. She became pregnant with me and gave birth to me in the brothel. I was brought up in the brothel and am only a helper there! I do not know anything about the Wen Empire. I am not a spy!” Meng Yao explains hurriedly.

 “Then why did you drug Xichen?”

 “I didn’t! It is a trick that the brothel uses on some customers. General Lan was already drugged when I found him and… I didn’t resist…” Meng Yao’s voice gets quieter towards the end.

 “Ha! You want me to believe this? You didn’t resist? You willingly lied under another man and agreed to be his wife? Don’t lie to me! What is your motive? What do you want?!” Nie Mingue’s patience runs thin.

 “I don’t have any motive! I… I love General Lan. I want to be his. That’s all I want!” Meng Yao proclaims.

 Infuriated because Nie Mingjue could not wrap his head around two men being in love, he naturally believed that Meng Yao was lying and toying with him. “Well then, since you want to play, I’ll let you play with these whips!”

 Immediately, the whips rain down on Meng Yao’s back. Clenching his fist, Meng Yao refuses to back down or cry out. Meng Yao is tired of backing down and giving in. Seeing the look of worry in Lan Xichen’s eyes, Meng Yao smiles and nods at the other. He had to comfort Lan Xichen and let Lan Xichen know that he is okay. If not, Meng Yao feared that Lan Xichen might do something silly to try to protect him. Meng Yao does not think he deserves Lan Xichen’s protection. Even though he lied to Lan Xichen, the other still believed him. And that is enough, Meng Yao thinks. Lan Xichen is the only light in his dark life. He could not return the happiness Lan Xichen gave him these past few months by asking him to ruin his future by disobeying his superior to protect him.

 “General Lan! No… Lan Xichen, thank you for loving me these past few months. I’ve been the happiest I’ve ever been after meeting you. I can die happy now. In my next life, I hope to be born a woman, so that I can truly be with you, and bear you a child. And it will just be me, you, and our child. Our happy little family… That is all I ask for.” Meng Yao cannot help but say through the pain. He thinks he will die here. Despite being grateful for Lan Xichen’s love, Meng Yao cannot help but feel regretful. All his life, he had desired for a family. Although his mother tried to give him the feeling of one, there was a lot she could not do as a single mother and a courtesan. And although he’s lucky to find a partner he wants to have a family with, this wish still could not come true.

 “A-Yao…” Lan Xichen is filled with emotions he could not name. He wants to say something, to shout something, to do something. But before he could do anything, Meng Yao faints from the pain.

 --

 When Meng Yao comes to a few days later, he is in a foreign tent with Lan Xichen lying beside him, fingers interlaced.

 Sensing that Meng Yao is awake, Lan Xichen immediately opens his eyes to look at him. “A-Yao… You’re awake…”

 “Where am I? What happened?” Meng Yao asks, trying to sit up but the pain in his back makes him flinch and fall back down.

 “Don’t move,” Lan Xichen says softly, combing Meng Yao’s hair back. “A-Yao…”

 Meng Yao waits for Lan Xichen but the other those not continue. Instead, they stay quiet, basking in each other’s presence. Lan Xichen gently encircles Meng Yao in his arms, careful not to disturb his injuries. Lan Xichen then buries his face in Meng Yao’s neck breathing in deeply, wanting to engrave Meng Yao’s scent into his mind. Although Meng Yao is a little confused, he indulges in Lan Xichen, taking in the other’s scent as well.

 Lan Xichen wishes that this moment will not end. He only wants to be here, in bed with Meng Yao in his arms. But as a general, Lan Xichen had responsibilities. He could not be stubborn and wilful. Getting Nie Mingjue to let Meng Yao go was the most he could do at this point. Although Nie Mingjue thought that Lan Xichen is too naïve and benevolent, he also trusted that Lan Xichen would not have told Meng Yao any military secrets. And although he did not trust Meng Yao, Nie Mingjue had felt that Meng Yao was sincere in his feelings for Lan Xichen. And because Nie Mingjue did not want to distract or offend his best general in the midst of war, he eventually agreed to let Meng Yao go.

 And so, when Meng Yao wakes up again the next day, Lan Xichen is off to the battlefield, leaving his two confidants behind. The two confidants grew up with Lan Xichen and were his personal bodyguards. Hence, they listened only to Lan Xichen’s orders are were not part of the military.

 “Meng gongzi, Young Master Lan has ordered us to bring you back to the capital,” The confidants tell Meng Yao. And from them, Meng Yao learns that Lan Xichen has convinced Nie Mingjue to let him go. Lan Xichen had wanted the confidants to bring Meng Yao back safely to their home in the capital and to serve Meng Yao from now on. Lan Xichen also prepared a large amount of money for Meng Yao, wanting him to live freely. Meng Yao knows that this is supposed to be his “breaking-up fee”. Meng Yao laughs and laughs, until tears start to fall. He knows that Lan Xichen wants the best for him, and this is what Lan Xichen thought is best. And indeed, considering the circumstances, this is the best Meng Yao can hope for. Yet, Meng Yao cannot help but feel resentful. At this point in time, Meng Yao would rather have died than have to live alone, knowing that Lan Xichen will one day marry a woman and have a family with her.

 Taking the money, Meng Yao tells the confidants to stay behind.

 “But Meng gongzi, Young Master Lan has ordered us to serve you from now on.”

 “That means you should listen to what I say. I and say that you should stay here and protect General Lan. I know you both are loyal to General Lan. Stay here and protect him. That’s all I want. With this money, I can make it on my own. I’m not a poor weak woman, you know?”

 In the end, the confidants are convinced by Meng Yao. After all, they are Lan Xichen’s confidants and would rather protect Lan Xichen than Meng Yao.

 --

 The war continues without any more incidents.

 One night, after many months of stalemate, Nie Mingjue sneaks into the Wen Empire’s fort. However, he is soon caught, along with some of the other soldiers that came with him. Dragged into the main tent, they see a familiar face beside the Wen military’s commander.

 “Meng! Yao!” Nie Mingjue growls through bared teeth. “You were a spy after all!”

 “Hahaha! Is this the short-tempered commander you told me about?” The Wen military commander laughs.

 “Meng Yao! I should have killed you!” Nie Mingjue shouts, filled with anger and regret as he struggles against his bindings.

 “Ah…” Meng Yao smiles as he sees familiar faces in the soldiers caught along with Nie Mingjue. Turning to the Wen military commander, he asks, “I see some people I have enmity with. Can I?”

 “Go ahead. Show me your loyalty.” The Wen military commander replies, giving Meng Yao a sword.

 “You only have yourselves to blame for this,” Meng Yao says, looking at the soldiers who had tried to force themselves on him those months ago, causing him to be separated from Lan Xichen. Then, swiftly, Meng Yao kills them.

 “Hahahahaha! You have done well, Meng Yao. I shall reward you accordingly. And now, for the little commander, I shall kill you myself!” The Wen military commander proclaims, picking up his own sword. And as he lifts his sword to kill Nie Mingjue, Meng Yao takes the opportunity to stab the Wen military commander in the back, killing him.

 This causes a mess to break out. The other Wen Empire soldiers immediately pick up their swords, ready to kill when a messenger enters the tent to claim that they have been surrounded by the Yi Empire soldiers. Then, the messenger is killed as Lan Xichen forces his way into the tent. A fight breaks out and Lan Xichen fights to make his way to Meng Yao’s side. Quickly entering the tent after Lan Xichen, Nie Huaisang manages to duke his way towards Nie Mingjue and untie his bindings. Upon being freed, Nie Mingjue picks up a sword, moving forward to kill Meng Yao.

 But Nie Mingjue is not the only one who wants to kill Meng Yao. After Meng Yao killed their commander, the other Wen Empire soldiers also sought for revenge. With his small and lithe body, Meng Yao is able to escape most swords. In this time, Lan Xichen finally makes his way to Meng Yao.

 “Commander Nie! Don’t hurt A-Yao! He’s the one whose been sending information to us! He’s on our side!” Lan Xichen shouts, trying to stop Nie Mingjue from trying to kill Meng Yao. “See? He even killed the Wen military commander!”

 “It does not matter! He’s killed my soldiers! And not just once!” Nie Mingjue shouts.

 “This is war! Killing is expected!”

 “But not killing soldiers on your own side!” Unwilling to listen to Lan Xichen’s defences, Nie Mingjue stabs towards Meng Yao.

 Lan Xichen wants to use his own sword to block Nie Mingjue, but he sees another sword coming towards Meng Yao. Having used up a lot of energy duking through the other swords, Meng Yao feels like he cannot escape this time. Then, a body covers him. Lan Xichen has used his body to try to save Meng Yao.

 But it was of no use, because the sword is long enough to pierce through them both. Falling onto their knees, connected by a sword, Lan Xichen weakly embraces Meng Yao.

 “A-Yao…” Lan Xichen whispers gently, and Meng Yao can feel just how preciously Lan Xichen sees him.

 Tears begin to feel Meng Yao’s eyes. “Why are you so silly? Why did you save me?”

 “Because I love you,” Lan Xichen replies, ignoring the pain that comes from the sword moving through him as he moves closer to hold on to Meng Yao tighter.

  “Your love is enough for me to be satisfied.” Meng Yao smiles through the tears, laughing lightly but the movement causes him to flinch in pain.

 “Does it hurt?” Lan Xichen asks, the worry and loss of blood causing him to ask such an obvious question.

 “This is nothing,” Meng Yao comforts the other. Jokingly he says, “I can handle your sword piercing through me. This is nothing in comparison.”

 Lan Xichen smiles helplessly at that. “I’ve missed you…”

 “I’ve missed your sword,” Meng Yao replies cheekily, feeling light-headed. Meng Yao does not know why, but he wants only wants to lighten Lan Xichen’s mood.

 “A-Yao… I have so much regrets. I don’t want to die yet.” Lan Xichen’s words cause Meng Yao’s heart to clench in pain, thinking that Lan Xichen regrets trying to save him. But Lan Xichen’s next few words quickly soothes Meng Yao’s soul. “I should never have let you go. I should have insisted on marrying you. I… I should have protected you better. A-Yao… Even though I’ve failed you, would you be willing to be with me in our next life?”

 “Yes…” Meng Yao says, feeling dizzy with happiness and due to the blood loss.

 “A-Yao… In this life, I’m grateful to have met you, to love you. Yet, I couldn’t protect you, couldn’t marry you, couldn’t grow old with you. I gave you up for the battlefield. In my next life, I will not make the same mistakes. I will take off my armour, and protect only you. Even if I have to betray the rest of the world, I will never let you go or let you down again. In my next life, I will throw away everything, and only love you.” Lan Xichen swears.

 Meng Yao cries, deeply moved. “Silly… If you throw away everything, how are you going to protect me? I’m very ambitious, you know? I want to have a lot of money, high status, have everyone look up to me… Everything I did not have in this life, I want them all. I want to show those who looked down on me how wrong they are. If you don’t have anything but love, then how are you going to give me what I want?”

 “I… I will do everything I can to give you what you want!” Lan Xichen proclaims anxiously.

 Meng Yao smiles weakly, energy draining. Just as everything turns black, Meng Yao whispers, “All I want is you.”

 “A-Yao? A-Yao?” Lan Xichen calls when Meng Yao’s head falls lifelessly onto his shoulders. When Meng Yao does not respond, Lan Xichen smiles gently, kissing the top of his head. “Goodnight, A-Yao. Dream of me as I’ll dream of you.”

 --

 When the battle ends and their bodies are found, the soldiers could not separate Lan Xichen and Meng Yao’s bodies because of how tightly they were holding each other when they died.

 “Bury them together,” Lan Wangji says to the soldiers. Then squatting next to his brother’s dead body, he says, “May you and sister… No. May you and brother-in-law be happy together in your next life.”

#xiyao #fanfic #XiYaoWeek2019

[bechobbi]

Fortune favours the bold - SamDrake x Reader - (Chapter 4)

Sorry for the wait, I know it’s not much, but I still hope you’ll enjoy it.

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Slowly, Sam put the keys in the door. He was still not sure about what he was going to say to you. Surely, he didn't want to be mistaken for a fool nor to be manipulated.

He took a deep breath trying to push the confusion at the back of his mind, then entered the room.

Instinct forced him to say in a rather polemical tone, "We need to talk". But just when last syllable was about to leave his mouth, his gaze fell upon you and his chest tightened a little.

You were on the bed, lying on your stomach, sleeping. Your hair covered half of your face. Your expression was so pure and vulnerable that you looked like a child.

An intense feeling started growing in Sam's chest and as he became aware of it he immediately averted  his gaze.

Trying his best to redirect his thoughts and feelings on something else, the man placed the groceries on the wooden cabinet next to the door and hid the backpack inside it. He was definetly going to talk to you when you'd wake up.

Having nothing better to do, Sam poured himself an abundant glass of scotch and sat down on a chair nearby.

It was still night and the rain had stopped long ago. He peeked outside taking a sip from the drink. "Damn...", he murmured thinking of the message he had sent to his ex. Not that he was regretting it, though he had really wished to meet her again to ask what happened between them to make her go away. Maybe his work around the world? Or the bad companies he had to work with? Perhaps he wasn't enough? Sam didn't know.

If there is something that can dismantle someone's ego, then it’s uncertainty. It can leave you both completely empty or full of questions that will never have accurate answers.

And there he was.

Besides appearances, she had always been the dominant figure in their relationship. He never realized it before, so a frustrated sigh left him.

All of a sudden, Sam's was taken back to reality by the sound of a soft whine. He quickly examined you and noticed that the blankets had fallen to the ground. Probably, you kicked them away while you were having some sort of nightmare.

He couldn't help but smile and scoff, somehow you saved him from overthinking. Then he reached out for the blankets paying attention not to wake you up and put them back on your body to keep you warm.

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

The only moment you had all by yourself was when the man who saved you had gone out to buy some food for the both of you.

You stood there wondering  what to do next. The rational part of you wanted to leave that place instantly in order to finally reach your goal, furthermore you didn't want to develop any type feeling for your savior. This part of you wished he could just remain a stranger met by coincidence.

On the other hand, your emotional part was pushing you not to leave him like you were used to do in those circumstances. You already had fortuitous meetings that allowed you to sleep in a comfortable bed, to eat hot food, to repair yourself from heavy rain and cold, etc. But he was different, he was so caring and just his presence made you feel safe and respected. Those vivid and sharp eyes filled with a subtle hint of sadness were so captivating. You wanted to know the reason why he seemed that gloomy.

"Alright, just one night then I'll go", you encouraged yourself and that said you fell asleep considering the possibility that you and that man shared more things than the both of you could even imagine.

If there was something you were good at was understanding people just by looking at them. The way people interact had always been one of your favourite thing to study. In your childhood, your father used to teach you about psychology just for fun and you proved to be more than empathic in many occasions. So, while your lovely father showed the inner aspects of human behaviour, your mother taught about art and music. She was an artist, a singer, an intellectual and pragmatist woman. Considering all this, your instincts grew stronger each day passing. But you were also alone due to the fact that other children were scared of you. To their eyes you were a little monster, a witch that could see through them.

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

After covering you with the blankets, Sam stood there in silence, staring at your sleeping face. He studied your expression meditating on the reasons that could have pushed you to lie about the aggression you suffered. Very likely he would have done the same in order to survive. Well, not considering that he was used to act like that. Focusing on this, his anger and frustration slowly disappeared giving space to a deep sense of calmness.

Though, Sam was damn curious about you, so he silently reached the cabinet where your backpack was and grabbed your diary. He headed to the bathroom and locked the door behind him. It was mean, but he couldn't help it.

"Day 16. Morning.

I eventually made it to the city. There's nothing interesting here, so I bet I'll have to spend the night here then move again to the next place. I'm near. Near to my home town. Wonder how it looks like now. Will the neighbours still be the same? And my house? Have my "loving and caring" relatives already sold or demolished it? They killed mom and dad just for avarice. They always been like that. Shitty people. I hate you all. But what am I going to do when I'll be there? With no money I can't take back my house... I can't take back my life... Besides I am just an illegitimate child..."

"Day 16. 3pm.

Shit, I lost my wallet. I'm starving. I managed to steal some fruit but I'm still hugry. Oh! I've seen a library near the grocery and they're selling wonderful stuff, interesting books about behavioral psychology and some rare music scores! Mom, Dad, sorry but I am going to take them! Eh eh."

"Day 16. Night.

Fuck, they caught me stealing. The clerk sent me away and a group of stupid bored guys, who watched the whole scene, run after me to beat me up. I am a mess. Fortunately, nothing is broken, although my whole body hurts. Also, they wanted to bring me to the police but I was faster (Thank you God for making my legs so strong and fast!). Now, I am here, near a trash bin and it's raining hard. My hair and clothes are wet and it's really cold. Fuck. Though, I saw a crumbling motel nearby, I could try to force open a door. Or maybe I could just knock and ask for help. Yeah, sounds good. What could I say? Mmh. Ok. I got it. I can do that. Rape. I will fake a rape attempt (hoping they won't call the police eventually!)."

#sam drake fanfiction #samuel drake fanfiction #sam drake x reader #samuel drake x reader #Uncharted 4 #uncharted 4 fanfiction #fanfiction #uncharted fanfiction #sam drake #Samuel Drake #fanfic