#based on your past reference your immediate response is gonna be “wait you want to GAIN weight? That is NOT HEALTHY”
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Contextualizing the Messy AkiHaru Scene
So...it came to my attention that a lot of translations of the scene where Akihiko crashes at Haruki's house in chapter 20 of the manga or the anime movie suggest that nothing happened more than we see in the panels/on the screen.
This is a translation error. The Japanese is unambiguous that a lot happened during the scene break; the art backs this up, in the change to Haruki's hairstyle from before to after the scene break.
Mainly, I want to retranslate for people who are interested, who didn't know that this was a mistranslation. But, I think that no matter how the scene is translated, there are subtexts and undercurrents that are lost, that cannot be simply translated into existence.
So I would like to explain several things in the lead-up to the scene in question, as well as in the aftermath, in order to hopefully give more context.
WARNINGS FOR SPOILERS AND NONCON
Notes on Translation: Given astonished me from its very first chapter with its deliberate and brilliant use of words. It is a story that is so incredibly articulate when it wants to be that moments of wordlessness or fragmented words are equally articulate, for they are crafted with as much deliberation and care as the articulate moments. As anyone knows who has ever tried to translate something, just plain translating the surface meaning of words often leaves a lot of the meaning behind. I will do my best to convey in English what the original text conveyed to me in Japanese, but it will inevitably fall short of the original text.
The Lead-In
First off, let's talk about Akihiko and the particular damage that he brings with him into this scene. He, of course, has the argument with Ugetsu and the fact that he has nowhere to go; but he has also been living this way for two years, presumably only a little longer than he has known Haruki. Akihiko describes the patterns that he and Ugetsu go through:
[Translation: "Even since Ugetsu and I broke up, we periodically continue to clash. Sometimes it's about the timing at which Ugetsu found a new guy. Sometimes it's just before or after Ugetsu is away for a long time. Sometimes these clashes come suddenly, immediately after we have been intimate for a few days, just like we used to be.]
Later, Akihiko reveals that he has a pattern of dealing with being kicked out of the home he shares with Ugetsu by finding someone, anyone to stay with. He has come to associate these stays as transactions, where the thing that he provides is most often sex. (We also see this transaction-based approach in his relationship with Ugetsu, for whom he feels compelled to cook—a thing that he later continues for Haruki with an urgency that does not match Haruki's easygoing acceptance of this dynamic.)
In fact, we see hints that perhaps Akihiko associates crashing with someone with providing sex to a deeper degree than even he acknowledges, in a scene in volume 1 where he crashed at Haruki's apartment while drunk, and upon stating it would be too much trouble to pull out a futon, did not merely crawl into bed with Haruki, but on top of him.
[Translation:
Haru: Akihiko, get a futon and sleep wherever...
Aki: Whaaat? But that's so much effort...
Haru: So sleep on the....floor....]
So this is a deeply engrained association for Akihiko.
However, it is also a part of his life that he has gone out of his way to conceal from Haruki. From Haruki, he has not merely concealed the many times that he has essentially prostituted himself for a place to sleep; he has also hidden from Haruki that he has any flatmate at all, much less the nature of his relationship with said flatmate.
Haruki has the idea that Akihiko used to sleep around, but does not anymore. He is blinded partly by his own desire to see only the best parts of Akihiko; he is also blinded by Akihiko's desire to only reveal the best parts of himself to Haruki.
In volume 4, we see the moment that Akihiko lets slip that he has a flatmate, and the degree to which this shakes Haruki.
But the more emotional moment for Haruki comes when he realizes that Akihiko is talking to him on the phone while having sex with a woman.
[Translation: "That was a woman.... He was totally having sex."]
No promises have been broken; no trust has been betrayed. But there is an illusion of Akihiko that Haruki has, that Akihiko himself has carefully cultivated over the recent months for a reason that even he cannot explain. It is a paper-thin illusion, that only held up because Akihiko and Haruki both wanted it there.
But now, that illusion is shattering.
This just so happens to overlap with Take suggesting that Haruki take on a support role in his ex-gf's band.
Haruki has struggled from volume 1 with insecurities. He is the band leader; he is the one who brought them together, the one who runs their social media, the one who keeps them in line. Given is a band that absolutely would never have existed without Haruki. Yet he feels outshined by the other three members. There are several scenes depicting Haruki struggling with this. Akihiko is often the one to whom he voices his insecurities, and always without fail sets him straight. There is one particular exchange, during the same conversation when Akihiko reveals that he has a flatmate, when Haruki calls himself ordinary (凡人枠) and Akihiko retorts that he is not, he is 調停者枠....which is difficult to translate, but essentially means mediator, but in this case is denoting that he is the one who brings the different pieces of the band together (both musically, and as a person). Akihiko tells him then, "You're the one that everybody seeks," with a particular look in his eyes even as he reaches for Haruki's face. (Haruki pulls away and Akihiko pulls back and laughs it off.)
But the undercurrent is, for the first time, Haruki is beginning to see the truth of the words that he never quite believed. He is wanted and needed...he just needs to find a way to explain this to the other members of Given. In particular, Akihiko, who has always felt to Haruki like someone on equal or higher footing than himself, despite Haruki himself being older.
And these are the undercurrents at play as we head into the scene in question.
The Crucial Chapters 19-20
Akihiko shows up on Haruki's doorstop in the middle of the night, with an injured face from a fight with Ugetsu.
Haruki lets him in and they start talking as usual....but this time, it's different. They are both just a little bit at odds in a way they have never been before.
Haruki is aware, now, of a facet of Akihiko's life that until recently he had believed was left in the past.
Akihiko perceives that Haruki is hiding something, and in his typical way, immediately wants to know what it is.
This is why, when Akihiko asks his questions and asks if Haruki is hiding something, Haruki snaps back in a way we have never seen him do before:
[Tr: "[I am, but] you're one to talk!"]
Akihiko grabs Haruki by the wrist and asks again, and Haruki tells him...but throws in that the band he is doing support for is his ex's band.
Akihiko responds, "So you're going back to your ex?" and proceeds to crawl on top of Haruki to acknowledge for the first time what has always been unspoken between them: "You're in love with me, yet you're gonna run away?"
As Haruki lies sputtering for a response (he tries to pretend ignorance, but can't finish a sentence, between Akihiko pressing closer and his own shock) Akihiko reaches for Haruki's braid—the hair that Haruki has been growing out for as long as he has known Akihiko, as something like a wish charm (願掛け) for his love; the hair that Akihiko is somewhat obsessed with, taking every opportunity he can to play with it or style it—and speaks words that reveal that he is still fixated on Haruki's ex.
[Full text: 春樹さぁ、元カノがどうとか言ってたけど、お前こんなんで本当に女なんか抱いてたの？
Translation: You talk about this ex-girlfriend, Haruki, but did you seriously have sex with women like this?
Note: the こんなんで/"like this" is beautifully ambiguous. On a surface level of course it is referring to Haruki's long hair—with all the years of pining and love for Akihiko that that implies—but it also draws attention to how they are right now. The fact that Akihiko has crawled on top of Haruki as he has before, and Haruki does not fully push him away. It draws attention to the way that Akihiko himself is so central to Haruki's entire being.]
While Haruki flushes and thinks to himself, "Shut up, shut up! I did have sex with women, before I met you!" Meanwhile, Akihiko kisses him—a kiss that the art carefully does not show us lip-to-lip, either only showing us angles where we cannot see the point of contact, or focusing on the contact of only their tongues. Make no mistake, this is not a romantic kiss. This is a kiss full of frustration and pent up emotions and two years of unspoken, unacknowledged emotion brewing between these two.
Akihiko begins to strip Haruki further, and Haruki interjects, 「え、うそ、うそうそ、待った」(tr: "Wha- wait wait wait, just a sec"), which Akihiko ignores, and proceeds to begin performing oral sex on Haruki, even as he acknowledges internally that his actions are taking out his frustration with Ugetsu on Haruki.
[Note: the words Haruki uses at this point are not clear "Stop" signals. え、うそ、待った are all words that convey shock and uncertainty, and it is noteworthy that Haruki does not at any point use a word that would convey an equivalent of "Stop". That doesn't make this consensual, as his consent has not been obtained, but this is important to note, that Haruki deliberately does not ever outright tell Akihiko to stop.]
This is where Akihiko reflects on his messy relationship with Ugetsu, and the lingering hold it has on him:
Even since Ugetsu and I broke up, we periodically continue to clash. Sometimes it's about the timing at which Ugetsu found a new guy. Sometimes it's just before or after Ugetsu is away for a long time. Sometimes these clashes come suddenly, immediately after we have been intimate for a few days, just like we used to be. Like he is urging me, "Great, here's an opportunity. Let's part ways and break up for real." Like he is shutting me out of his world by force, to reinforce that he doesn't need me. What the hell? If you don't want me, why do you allow me to hold on? If you sympathize with my holding on, why do you try to throw me away? I want to trap you. I want to escape. I want to give up. I can't fully give up. I want to touch you. I can't breathe...
And when Akihiko comes back to the present, some time has past. His shirt is gone, Haruki places a hand over Akihiko's with tears in his eyes, and for the first time, says やめてよ [approx. translation: "Please stop," but this is a very gentle way of saying it—a plea in softer language]....and then continues, そんな顔しないでよ、辛そうな顔しないでよ、なんなの？言ってよ、なんでもしてあげるから [tr: "Please stop looking like that, like you're in such pain...What is it? Please tell me. I would give you anything."]
It is the なんでもしてあげるから here that is utterly striking. @edragoon and I debated translations and arrived on "I would give you anything" as the best option, but even with Haruki's soft language leading up to this, even with his words so focused on Akihiko's pain, the sheer love conveyed by these words is heart-wrenching—as is the art, Haruki's hand reaching out to Akihiko's face.
Akihiko has unearthed Haruki's unspoken feeling as part of his self-destructive spiral in a move that he no doubt expected to hurt Haruki, but instead, Haruki has owned up to his no longer hidden feelings and offers all of himself to Akihiko; turns the focus back onto Akihiko and his pain, rather than on himself, as Akihiko probably expected. As no doubt has happened in similar situations with Ugetsu.
And Akihiko, caught between Haruki here and the mess in his heart that is Ugetsu, expresses resentment that these words are coming from Haruki instead of Ugetsu.
"Why did you have to be the one to say that?" Akihiko laments silently, and then out loud,
[tr: "Telling you won't change anything."]
He follows this up with a small, "Sorry," and wonders to himself "Why couldn't it have been you?" (In Japanese, as in English, it is ambiguous whether he is wishing that Haruki were the one he wanted those words from, or that Ugetsu were the one saying those words. The last use of "you" in his internal monologue was directed at Haruki, supporting the first interpretation, but he is also lost in his head, so it would be no surprise if he is swaying back and forth.)
The scene breaks here, and on the next page, Haruki is curled up facing the back of the couch, fully dressed in new clothes and his hair now pulled back in a ponytail, and Akihiko is seated on the floor with his back to the couch, shirtless.
[Tr: "I'm sorry. Truly. I was completely in the wrong."]
Haruki responds, "That's not the part I want an apology for," even as he remembers those damning words, Telling you won't change anything.
[Tr: "...I said I'd give you anything. By the end it was basically consensual."]
Haruki goes on to say Akihiko is free to stay over, but he will be going to a friend's place.
Akihiko visibly panics, but only manages to call Haruki's name once as Haruki tells him he can use anything, can leave the door unlocked, but simply should be gone by morning.
Haruki leaves the apartment, and we see him cry as he walks through the darkened streets as those words Akihiko spoke again.
Left behind, Akihiko berates himself for how much he lets himself lean and depend (甘える) on Haruki, and he reflects on the events with his family and Ugetsu that lead him to where he is, without anywhere else to go. [NOTE: this is no doubt a significant factor in his later decision to move out of Haruki's apartment once as he goes through the process of bettering himself.] He contemplates the ways in which he has behaved towards Haruki, the parts of his own life he has almost instinctively hidden from his view.
Akihiko spends the night on the floor by the couch. (A shot of the clock at one point tells us it is 1:20am.)
We see morning dawn, and it is as Take is at work discussing lunch break that he gets a text from Akihiko, asking if he's seen Haruki. It is in the evening, when Take goes home, that he finds Haruki listless and hollow-eyed in front of his apartment.
The clock reads 9:40pm when Haruki comes home at last. Apart from the few hours he was with Take, Haruki has spent the better part of a night and a day alone who knows where.
[Tr: "Oh, you're still here"]
The hair that Akihiko had adored, the hair that Haruki had been growing since the day he met and fell for Akihiko, is cut short.
The Aftermath
The two of them don't shy away from the subtext of the last day—especially Haruki, who says blandly, "Sorry, but I'm tired after your rejection of my feelings, as you can see. Please go home." And when Akihiko tries to reach for him with a, "Wait, but—" his hand his slapped away by Haruki, who informs him, "Look, I'm angry at you." and cuts off Akihiko's attempted apology one syllable in with an admonishment that an apology will only make him angrier.
But Akihiko says what he should have said the night before—that he is at the end of his rope and has nowhere to go. He quietly asks to be permitted to stay in Haruki's apartment, assuring him that he will sleep on the floor, that he will not do anything again. He begs for Haruki to help him.
Haruki is furious.
「サイアク」the narration repeats: "[This/he] is the worst."
At last, Haruki agrees, but with the words, "If you weren't a band member, I'd throw you out."
The next day at band practice, Akihiko and Haruki are wildly out of sync, and while Haruki puts on a carefree smile for Uenoyama and Mafuyu, he is still spiraling with despair and humiliation.
And yet Akihiko too is on pins and needles, reacting with abject (though silent) horror when Uenoyama asks Haruki what's wrong.
But Haruki tells Uenoyama and Mafuyu nothing, and when he walks off and Akihiko goes after him, the words that come out of his mouth are all about his insecurities about his place in the band. About how he is too ordinary and does not belong in such a band of geniuses.
This is not what Akihiko was expecting his outburst to be about; this is also familiar territory for him, that he knows how to handle. Akihiko knows music.
He assures Haruki of why his music was off today, as he would have any other day. He assures Haruki that he is utterly deserving of his place in their band, as he has so many times before.
[Tr: "I've pretty much always told you that you're necessary, haven't I!?"]
And all at once, memories come rushing back to Haruki of so many times that Akihiko has told him of his value.
Haruki's anger loses its momentum and he deflates. They had back to Haruki's apartment, with Akihiko promising to cook dinner, as he is the freeloader. (Another nod to his tendency to view these arrangements as transactional.)
Living together proves a disillusionment process for Haruki. Of course, the night that Akihiko first came to his apartment was the enormous catalyst, but the disillusionment process continues.
All of those ways in which he had formerly idealized Akihiko crumble one after another for Haruki as they live together. Akihiko cooks, but he only has one flavor profile, and often makes fried rice. Akihiko spends most of his days on music, be it violin or the drums, and it is louder than Haruki is used to with his bass—it is also evidence that Akihiko is the musician he is because he puts in the work, not just inherent talent.
...And that brings us to the end of volume 4, so I think I shall stop here!
If you read all this way, thank you, and I hope this added something positive to your day!
#akihiko x haruki#akihiko kaji#Given#haruki nakayama#haruki's hair#Given meta#meta#秋春#ギヴン#中山春樹#梶秋彦#Given vol 4#This is my otp#nobody proofread this meta#I really hope there are no typos#i am brain empty only akiharu
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Hold On
TaeyongxReader
Word Count: 3.7k
Summary/Warnings: based of this really old post here. Smut, stuffed animal kink?
first fic on the new blog! I’m losing my mind,
~~
You’d be slightly embarrassed to admit that the second Taeyong handed you the stuffed animal, it was as if it glued itself to your hands.
Yes you were slightly obsessed with the soft toy, but in your defense, it was the first present the boy had ever presented to you. Not only that, but it was also incredibly soft and, in its time spent hidden in Taeyong’s room as he tried to build the courage to give it to you, it had become permanently marked with his scent. These things, combined with its size, made it a perfect pillow.
So it never moved an inch from its corner of your bed. Waiting patiently every day for you to curl up, ready for sleep, and for you to pull it tightly into your chest. The only times it went untouched for the night, is the times you instead found yourself laid in the nest that was Taeyong’s bed, and it’s job as your pillow being taken over by his warm chest.
It was just a teddy bear. As classic as it could get with its brown fur and button eyes, but something about seeing it for the first time made Taeyong immediately think of you. You hadn’t been officially dating for too long, but he’d never forgive himself if he didn’t buy it right then and there, he just never anticipated how much nerve he’d have to build to actually give it to you.
But when he finally did, he was sure he had never seen something so adorable. The way your face lit up as you pulled it tightly against your chest, your neck bending slightly as you pressed your face into the fur. He could feel his chest tighten in endearment and his voice came out in nervous stutters when you thanked him with the same warm smile that was starting to feel exactly like home.
And he told himself, your reaction was what he found so cute. Yeah you holding it and cuddling into it was cute, but he was focused on your happiness.
So he didn’t really understand the way his stomach flipped when you let him into your room only days after to watch some movies and he saw it sitting perfectly next to your pillow as if it was waiting to see him again.
He shook off the weird feeling quickly, telling himself that he was just happy that you enjoyed the gift so much. And for that night it worked, and you innocently watched movies without a problem.
It wasn’t until about a week later did he have to admit that there was something else going on.
Same setting as the movie night only a handful of days before. Warm and cuddled into your bed, the sound softly pumping from the speakers of your tv. The soft brown teddy bear placed in his designated spot next to your pillow.
The only difference was his tongue rolling slowly over your clit and the quiet moans that fell from your lips.
The atmosphere in your room is so much softer than he’s ever experienced when he’s done stuff like this. Your muscles are completely loose as you sink into your mattress, the pleased noises you let out and the way your fingers tangle in his hair are the only indications that you’re still awake, as when his mouth first touched you, your eyes were sliding shut.
Your legs lay loosely against his back as he works you with his hot tongue. There’s no sense of urgency or impatience, allowing him to get a full taste of the arousal that builds between your legs. His hands smooth gently across the warm skin of your stomach letting him feel the muscles underneath the skin tense every time he hits a spot you particularly enjoy.
The second noises started coming from your pretty lips, his eyes had been trained on you. Watching the way the muscles in your face twitch and your eyelashes flutter against your cheeks every time he sucks the flesh of you clit tightly between his lips.
“Fuck Tae, I’m gonna come,” you whisper a warning, your fingers tightening around his scalp. He happily hums against you making you jerk and groan. He’s so enthralled by the way you start to squirm in pleasure, he’s thrown completely off guard at the feeling that hits him when you do it.
The hand that isn’t caught tangled in his hair starts to move eratically. He’s seen it before when you two had messed around. The promise of an orgasm making you so delirious your fingers would desperately search for something to ground you, but seeing that you usually only mess around in his room, you tend to find solace in crumpled up sheets. But in your bed, your fingers instead lock around your beloved teddy bear, and you’re pulling it to rest against your shoulder as you start to come hard on his waiting tongue.
You don’t seem to notice the quiet gasp he lets out when he sees this, as you’re too caught up with the orgasm that rips at your core. Luckily, regardless of his shock, he’s still able to lav his tongue against you to make it last just moments longer.
He’s unfamiliar with the feeling that claws at his stomach as he watches you twitch and shake with the stuffed toy lovingly gripped in your fingers. Something about it is so sweet and endearing while simultaneously makes him feel like he’s losing his mind.
He’s so thrown off by it, he decides to not bring it up, and even when you’re desperately pleading for him to let you wrap your lips around him in return, he can only wrap you in his arms and your blanket and tell you that it’s too late and you need to go to sleep.
And for a while after that, he didn’t really have to think about it. His room is the usual setting for your sexual escapades, that one time in yours was just an act of taking advantage that your roommate was out visiting family. So realistically he should have just put it aside and forgot about it, but that would just be too easy.
He thinks about it often. The scenes of it flashing randomly through his mind while he works or plays games, and he even shamefully thought about it when he was alone and touching himself to the thought of you. But it was at its absolute worst when you were together. Every time he pushed a whine past your lips, or when you started to come around him, a little demon in his brain would say, ‘now imagine if there was that cute little bear you got, just in perfect arms reach to grab.’
He just didn’t get it! What was it about you holding it as you came that got in his head so much. The amount of time he spent staring blankly at the wall trying to pick apart this new kink of his was bordering embarrassing, but he decided it was a combination of things. First, he always liked stuffed animals, he had a few himself that he’d push to the floor when you came to stay. Second, he liked you, a lot (that being a very easy factor to discover), and he liked making you come just as much.
Another factor was he knew it had something to do with it being a gift he gave you and how you would even refer to it as his bear as if he still owned it in some way. But the last, and probably most prominent factor, was that it was just cute enough to be corruptible. He knew that something about him making you feel so good and come so hard, that your mind would go blank, so blank that the first thing you’re subconscious mind would turn to is the soft and warm comfort item that he bought you, made him feel unhinged.
And he wanted to do it again.
——
First, he wanted to test if it was just that bear, or if it could be any stuffed toy he had a connection to.
You were coming over again and he was dead set on fucking you. This was this least uncommon thing in the world, but this time he just forgot to move one stuffed animal off his bed before he had sat down in only a pair of loose sweatpants to play games.
The large baby pink rabbit laid in the center of his bed when you walked in, seemingly keeping it warm as he sat at his desk playing games. You had seen it before so it hadn’t shocked you, but it was odd that he hadn’t moved it to sit on the floor at the end of his bed like usual.
But you weren’t one to complain, about the toy at least, so you just flopped as loudly onto his bed as possible and began calling his name and jokingly begging for attention like you’d do any other time.
He felt like an evil genius as he turned his chair slowly to face you, a deceivingly sweet smile pulling on his lips when he saw you had already claimed the soft rabbit without thought, the toy that had been seeped in his scent now tucked into your chest as you all but spoon it with your nose pressed against its ear. And his heart beat only ran faster when, as he stood to walk over to where you lay, he saw the way you subconsciously hug it tighter as if you feared he’d take it from you.
“You like the new friend you found?” He asks it in a taunting tone.
“Well yeah,” you keep your hold on the toy as you turn to lay on your back, your legs falling open as he stands between them, “you always put it away from me, so I have to take as much time with it as I can get.”
“Well then I won’t put it away this time baby since you like it so much,” he finishes his words with a huff, his eyes trailing across the scene below him. The way you’re laid out, soft and comfortable against his bedding while holding the toy, you’re so pretty and sweet smiling up at him, it’s enough to push him to put his plan into action.
“You don’t plan on letting it go at any point tonight?” he asks with a slight teasing tone, but the expression he wears tells you he still expects an answer. You shake your head softly in response, tightening your arms around it and your legs around his hips to prove it even more, “well if that’s the case…”
His fingers wrap around the bend of your knees, pulling them up higher on his hips and tugging you down the bed enough that your crotch brushes against his. He only grins and runs his cold fingers up your thighs when you grumble in response.
“do you think you can still hold on to it while I fuck you?” he asks so casually, a tilt to his head being the only indication of his mischievous mind set, that it throws you off for a moment.
“While you what?” you finally find the push to respond, your brain taking a moment to piece your thoughts together.
“While I fuck you,” he enunciates clearly, his eyes boring into yours as he reaches for the band of your pajama shorts.
He leaves you stuttering and shocked as his cold fingers dip below the fabric of your underwear, and as you lie there still trying to process his words, he tugs your shorts and underwear down and throws them behind his shoulder.
“What do you say baby?” he doesn’t give you time to respond before he’s bending forward, his head tilting as if he is scolding you as he pushes a slender finger into where your arousal begins to build, “you’d like to hold onto your cute little friend while I ruin you wouldn’t you.”
“Fuck Tae please,” you finally gasp out, your hips tilting towards him and your nails sinking into the soft fur of the rabbit.
“So cute,” he coos at you as he slowly works you with one finger, brushing his chapped lips and nose over the skin of your face as he waits for you to get wet enough for a second.
When he finally does, you’re panting. Your breath warm and gasping as his middle and ring fingers pump into you faster than you had mentally prepared for.
The heel of his palm digs into your clit while his greedy mouth devours the skin of your neck, and the pleasure that shoots throughout your nerves leaves you whining and squirming beneath him.
You don’t need to answer his original question. With the way he works you now, you can’t imagine letting the grip you have on his stuffed animal go even if you wanted. The soft fur being the only thing grounding you as you fall apart around his fingers.
He’s brought back to the first moment in your room when he hears the whining pitch that you fall into with your moans. The flush of warmth that runs over him from noises you make makes his whole body tense and causes a chain reaction when his fingers curl inside you, making you yelp in shock.
The growl he lets out when your free hand grabs his bicep and your nails dig into his skin is involuntary, but the harsh bite he sinks into your neck is retaliation.
You sound like you're bordering on hyperventilating when he sucks the skin between his teeth into his mouth to form a bruise, and with only a few more rolls of his palm, you feel pleasure shoot up your spine as you start to come.
Your eyes are watering as you wrap yourself around him, the toy squishing between your shoulders as you cling to him and whine. His fingers don’t slow down in the slightest as he works you through the orgasm, the way you tremble and curl around him with the toy still in your hold has his mind reeling and he can’t push himself to calm down.
Your mind is still fuzzy when he finally pulls away, and with the quickness of his motions, you don’t even connect that his fingers aren’t still pressed into you.
His still wet fingers curl around the bend of your knee, and he's pushing your knee towards your chest before you can even collect your scattered mind, and it's not until he’s sinking into you inch by inch do you come back to reality with a gasp.
“Look at my sweet baby,” he taunts as he shallowly rocks into you. His free hand trails up your side, taking a moment to tug at the rabbit and smile at the way you defensively hold it tighter, before wrapping his fingers gently around your neck, “you’re just so sensitive that you need your little friend huh?”
“Pleeeease,” your voice shakes as you let out the only word your shivering body allows.
He stands straight now as he harshly knocks into you, leaving your free hand to grasp frantically his crumpled sheets as your pushed higher on the bed.
He’s had you beneath him more times than he could count, every time he remembers as being more amazing than he could imagine, but something about this is different.
Your chest radiates warmth as you pant and moan, the muscles in your legs twitching harshly as you try to keep up with the pleasure you feel. Your eyes flutter as you try to watch him, your body rocks subconsciously as you try to match his motions, and you clench tightly around him making him spill just as many noises as you.
Though, of everything you do, the one thing he can’t pull his eyes away from, is the way you still cling onto his toy.
He had convinced himself that, even if you agreed to it, that the stuffed toy would be long forgotten once things got started, but the way you lay in front of him now, tells him you have no intention of letting go.
He can almost feel his heart beat in his throat as he watches you. The way you curl and arch against his bed, how cute you look in your old tshirt with the rabbit’s head pushing gently against your temple, makes him feel like he’s been handed heaven on a silver platter.
He can't imagine anything more beautiful than the scene in front of him, until he sees your hand wandering again.
Instead of reaching for his shoulder or his hands like usual, your fingers trail down your own skin. The way your face twists in pleasure tells him your hand moves with almost no thought, and before he can move to grab it, your rolling your clit softly beneath the pads of middle and ring fingers.
“You wanna come again that bad?” he doesn’t mean to sound mean when he asks, but there’s a mischievous energy in his chest he’s never really felt before this moment. He can’t help the pridefulness and glee he feels at you being so willing to indulge in his off requests, and he admits right then that this is something he’ll never let go. That night so long ago wasn’t a fluke at all, but rather you whining and moaning as you fall apart around him was just as beautiful and raunchy as he had hoped.
“Pretty little thing, you’ve always been insatiable,” he would have almost felt like a school bully with the way he spoke to you, but the shivering and puppy eyes he gets from you in response only encourages him.
“Please Taeyong, please please make me come,” you pout and plead up at him, the feeling you crave only a few pushes away as your stomach flutters and flexes in anticipation and pleasure, “want you to come in me so bad.”
He feels something inside him snap at the words that push past your lips, and the hand around your neck and his thrusts only become rougher. A yelping gasp that comes from you is the only thing he needs to know he’s done exactly what you wanted.
With a few more rolls of your cramping fingers, you're coming hard around him. Your second orgasm hits you harder than the first, the way he continues to stretch you pushing you through every second, and all you can do is squeeze the toy rabbit as your back arches sharply off the bed.
He loses the grip on your knee as your legs wrap around him, and the way you force him against you and the way you feel wrapped around him sets his own orgasm off. The pleasure making his chest press against your as you two rock against one another mindlessly.
His voice is raspy and dark as he lets out his own moans into your ear, and the noises only make you grasp for him to pull him closer. Your fingers curl into his hair as you return to a position similar to the one you only had momentarily after your first orgasm, but this time your clinging pushes him to the side and his moans slip into endeared chuckles, grunts, and groans.
You make no move to let him slip from you as he softens inside you, but instead you wiggle until your face is pressed into the dip of his neck and the rabbit is pressed against his side as you hold them both. You’re still racked with aftershocks, and the only thing you two can do is twitch against each other as every motion pushes him against the nerves inside you, making overstimulation bite at both of your bellies.
After what feels like an eternity of laying there, the only sounds surrounding you is your own panting and the quiet sound of the pause screen music coming from his game. But with a quiet huff and his fingers pushing under your shirt to run over your spine, he finally speaks again.
“Sorry… if that was ...weird,” he sounds unsure of his wording, sucking air through his teeth as he rolls his thoughts around his mind, but you only cuddle further into him in response, “I get it if that’s not something you’d ever want to do again.”
“Hm?” you let the noise slip out in confusion as it takes the words and your previous actions connect, “oh the stuffed animal?”
“Yeah that was… I could have asked before instead of springing it on you like that, that was kind of weird,” you can hear him grit his teeth in hesitation, “and I know you’re into the dirty talk thing but I was a little harsh. It was all just weird I’m sorry.”
“Taeyong,” you push up with your elbow on the bed to move just far enough away to look into his eye, “I mean if you’d be more comfortable bringing it up beforehand when you want to try something then of course, but no what just happened was really hot.”
“Are you serious?”
You have to jerk back slightly with a laugh when he springs up slightly with his own words, but the way you grin at him calms him almost instantly.
“Yeah I mean, the way you acted and everything, and I’m absolutely not against getting to hold onto something while you fuck me, I liked it,” you let out a dramatically airy sigh as you lay against him again, a question popping into your mind once you’re settled.
“Where did this idea even come from, I’m usually never anywhere near your stuffed animals when I come over?”
“Oh, um I doubt you remember but one day when I was at your place, you grabbed that little bear I got you when you were coming and I just never could stop thinking about it,” he admits trailing off towards the end, almost shameful.
“My bear!” you’re sitting up again, a scandalized look on your face as you swat at his chest, “that’s my most prized possession you pervert!”
“Hey! You’re the one that grabbed it while coming, pervert!”
#sorry for a late post I have no self control#nct smut#taeyong smut#nct 127 smut#nct imagines#taeyong imagines#nct fanfic#nct fic#taeyong fanfic#taeyong fic#nct oneshot#taeyong oneshot#kpop smut
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Part 8 of the wonderful! Au: the boys answer some questions! Up to you to decide if they actually clarify anything!
(also on AO3)
~*~
Martin: Hey everyone! I know what some of you are thinking right now: it's not Tuesday, why is this episode in my feed? I know significantly more of you are thinking: I don't consistently keep up with podcast releases, how much free time do you think I have, buddy? To answer your queries: this is a bonus episode! We're answering listener questions to clear the air and/or have fun. Also, I don't know, around 20 to 40 minutes a week, as that is the average amount of time per episode? Maybe during your commute? My husband's omnipotence has been gone for five years, we just have to guess at that sort of thing now.
Jon: For legal reasons, that last statement was a joke. In fact, to cover all of our bases, we do not guarantee that any of our responses are genuine.
Martin: Just because we say we'll answer things doesn't mean we'll answer truthfully. Though, honestly, I think we might make it more enjoyable if we do tell the truth. Like, I don't necessarily have a fun lie prepared for our first question from konspiracyking97: "What's their fuckin deal anyway?"
Jon: Is this referring to the oblique references we've made about being from a parallel reality and only ending up here as a consequence of ending one apocalypse and potentially starting another or the general premise of the show?
Martin: Oh, it's gotta be general premise, yeah?
Jon: In that case, I'm Jon, the other voice you're hearing is Martin, we're married, and we talk about things that are..nice? Good? Usually generally but occasionally rather specifically pleasant.
Martin: That pretty much covers it. It's not a complicated show. Uhh, next question comes from Shane: are either or both of you aliens? Nope!
Jon: Well..
Martin: No. We are 100% human people from Earth, we are under no definition extraterrestrial.
Jon: Eh..
Martin: Okay, first off, I know the tone of that 'eh' and "not fully human" is not synonymous with alien, so even if 100% is being a bit generous, we're still from the same planet as our listeners.
Jon:..
Jon: But. We sort of aren't though. Technically speaking.
Martin: No no no no no. I don't care if it's parallel, Earth is Earth is Earth, regardless of whatever nonsense metaphysics might be occurring.
Jon: So what you're saying is that if you got sucked through a portal and landed on an Earth where dinosaurs were still the predominant species, you wouldn't consider yourself to be an alien?
Martin: Nope!
Jon: I'm certain that they would consider you an alien. All of their mammals are probably shrew sized.
Martin: Sounds like a them problem.
Jon: Sounds like a-?! You know what, no, this will be an off the record debate, for now, I suppose I concede that the two Earths and our physiologies are similar enough that we might, maybe, not count as aliens.
Martin: Thank you. Anyway, our next question is from anonymous, and asks, "Is all of this an ARG?"
Jon: A whomst?
Martin: Alternate reality game. It's a method of storytelling that's interactive with audience, and usually has, I dunno, a certain suspension of disbelief to it where it pretends to be something actually happening in the real world until a dramatic reveal. A lot times it was used as a marketing gimmick, but others have done it just for fun. I can show you some examples after the show?
Jon: So it's in essence a more involved creepypasta?
Martin, delighted: Aw, babe, I'm never going to have a handle on what pop culture you are and aren't aware of, huh?
Jon: We were born within a year of each other, and I've told you that I was a deeply morbid teenager, you should probably be able to intuit some of things, love.
Martin: This coming from a man who has yet to see "It's a Wonderful Life", but has seen every film in the "Banjo Cannibals" franchise, including the Easter special. Jesus doesn't exist in the Banjo Cannibals universe, why does it have an Easter special?
Jon: The movies are rather shoddily translated from Russian, so I'm fairly certain the Easter component of that special was invented wholesale in the English version.
Martin: You say that like it answers more questions than it raises.
Jon: Yes, because it does. Oh, and to answer anonymous's question, no, this isn't an ARG. From my understanding of it, if it were, it'd be a poorly constructed one, as there's no real game element to any of this.
Martin: Hmm. Well, sometimes the game component is just trying to figure out what's going on with the story, or if there's any deeper content, and people are definitely doing that with this show.
Jon: That's not by design though. It's more a side effect of us having poor brain to mouth filters, I'd say.
Martin: Harsh, but fair. Oh, this next one is from Zac, no K, who asks, "Are you two actually even married?"
Jon, flat: We are, but it's under false names because this whole thing is an elaborate insurance scam.
Jon, incredulous: Yes, obviously, we're married. What did you hear in this podcast that would make you wonder otherwise, and how do we rectify it?
Martin: Clearly we need to up our quota for how "disgustingly in love" and "horrifically sappy" we are per episode. Which segues nicely into the next question from Gwen, "What's your favourite wonderful thing you've brought so far?" My answer: my husband. He's kind of my favourite in most things, you know?
Jon: Boooooo
Martin: Why, what's your favourite thing?
[Jon reluctantly sighs]
Jon, indulgent: being married.
Martin: A: serves you right for trying to pretend you're the less horrifically sappy and romantic one even though earlier today someone put a love note in the lunch they packed for me-
Jon:- Lies and slander! I have never, in my life, done that, even once.
Martin: Oh, sure, not even once. And you definitely don't reserve the lilac sticky notes specifically for my lunches because you know I like the colour.
Jon: I..I don't.. you're rather ruining my image here.
[Martin snorts]
Martin: Can't have the audience think that you are, on occasion, an incredibly doting husband-
Jon: -A title I would argue we both share-
Martin: - which is obviously why, even with it being your favourite thing you've brought, being married to me is just a small wonder-
Jon, audibly rolling his eyes: As I already explained-
[A Pause}
Jon: Actually, you're right-
Martin: Wait-
Jon:- I really should have brought it as a larger wonder-
Martin: Wait-
Jon: though I should warn you, I think I'd have far too much material for just one little segment-
Martin: No no no no no-
Jon:- In fact, I think I might have too much material for just one little episode-
Martin: Joo-oon-
Jon: I might have to do a whole series! Where would I even start? I mean I could talk about how every day I get to watch the early morning sun highlight your curls when I get up first, or hear you quietly humming and shuffling around the kitchen when you do, or I could talk about how the lunch notes only started in the first place as retaliation to the notes you would leave on the mirror for me to find, or how every time I get to see you at ease in a way that you aren't with anyone else, it takes my breath away, or I could talk about how cute I find the lines between your eyebrows that you only get when you're thinking something petty, but you know it's petty so you don't want to say anything-
Martin: Okay, okay, Christ, I give !up I surrender, and will cease my teasing on this particular topic.
Jon, probably making the :3 face: You don't have to stop. I mean, I could also discuss how very, very attractive I find your voice when it takes on a teasi-mmph!
[There's a pleased hum, then a pause.]
[The audio quality is slightly changed, as if the recording has been stopped and then started later]
Martin, giddy: Uh, heh, anyway, Eric asked what the least favourite thing we've brought was, and because of Jon's attempt to embarrass me live-
Jon, overlapping: It's definitely not live-
Martin:- on air, I'm gonna say it's my husband.
[Jon scoffs]
Jon : If the past few minutes are any sort of indication, I'm going to go ahead and saying that you are lying.
Martin, sighing contentedly: Maybe a bit, but how was I supposed to resist when your indigance gives you that adorable little nose scrunch? In reality, my least favourite thing was probably, um, mini golf? Which, I still don't think is inherently bad, definitely superior to regular golf, but when it's the only thing a next door two year old wants to do with you, the charm begins to wear off a bit.
Jon: Wow. A rather scathing review of a toddler.
Martin: Not so much a scathing review of a toddler as it's a scathing review of minigolf's inability to keep its appeal after the third time in the same week.
Jon: Mmm, the sound effects rather quickly go from part of the atmosphere to part of the irritation, don't they?
Martin: So what's your least favorite thing we've covered here?
Jon: Oh, love, I'm not going to pretend to have nearly enough memory of what we've covered so far to have a least favorite.
Martin: Really? Nothing that you regret or rescind?
Jon: Well, regret, certainly. It was one of the weeks where you went first, and your second item was mutual aid funds, and what they can do for marginalized communities, and I had to follow it with fucking Slapchop.
Martin, poorly suppressing laughter: In your defence, Slapchop, or whatever offbrand we have, is pretty useful, especially when either your scar or my arthritis is acting up.
Jon: I'm still not convinced you didn't somehow see my notes for the recording and decided you get revenge for the first year that we knew each other.
Martin, no longer suppressing his laughter: Yep, you got me! This marriage wasn't an act of insurance fraud, but it was a near decade long con to humiliate you on a podcast that about twenty people listen to. I'll draft up the divorce papers immediately, and then we can finally go our separate ways.
Jon: I'm glad you've at last admitted it. Such a weight off of my shoulders. Goodbye forever then.
Martin: Right.
Jon: Right.
[A beat.]
[There's a pfft from one of them, before both dissolve into giggles that lasts a good 30 seconds.]
Martin, slightly out of breath: I can't believe we're the kind of people that talk this much about speciality kitchen gadgets.
Jon: Sorry about that.
Martin: God, don't apologize. I'm, like, deliriously happy with our varying degrees of useful cooking ware filled life. If you had told 25 year old me that one day he'd be debating the merits of getting a tortilla press with his husband, he'd have wept, I tell you.
Jon: Funny, if you told 25 year old me the same thing, he would've said "You don't know the future,piss off" and then quietly have a bit of a panic at 3 am that night.
Martin: I bet you were insufferable in your mid-twenties.
Jon: First of all, who isn't, secondly, I was fresh out of Oxford, and third, I was insufferable in my late twenties, as you can attest to, and I'm insufferable now, as you can further attest to, so extrapolation would indicate that, yes, I was insufferable back then.
Martin: Probably a different kind of insufferable, though.
Jon: There are different kinds?
Martin: Of course! You used to be "prick boss" insufferable and now you're "smug in a way that I can't admit I find hot or it will go straight to your head" insufferable.
Jon, in the aforementioned smug tone: Oh, really?
Martin: See, see! Straight to your head.
Jon: Well straight is probably the wrong descriptor-
Martin: Oof, 4 out of 10 joke, babe.
Jon: That would be a far more convincing rating if you weren't grinning right now.
Martin: It's a genuine review, I'm just well known to be a sucker.
Jon: You and me both, darling.
Martin: Okay, if you're pulling out darling, you're clearly in too giddy of a mood to be focused on recording. Last question, from Jess, "You two mentioned meeting at work, but how did you actually end up together?" That's easy, Jon pulled me out of a hell dimension and then we went on the lam together to Scotland.
Jon: If that's not the way to tell a cute boy you like him, I don't know what is.
Martin: All right, that wraps up this bonus episode, and as the old saying goes, hiding from murderers in a cottage is more conducive to romance than suggesting you gouge out your eyes together.
Jon, cut off: Hey-!
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Hello! @bubblyani inspired me to make this!
Truth | 01
Warnings: 18+, lime, blood, death, murder, suicide, depression
Fandom: Lucifer
Pronouns used for reader: she/her (reader is also AFAB)
Enjoy, loves. <3
"Please? It'll be so much fun!"
Your friend said, putting an emphasis on 'fun'.
You sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose. "Fine, but if either of us gets kidnapped at this club, it's not my fault."
"Oh my God, you're so dramatic."
"It's my talent. When are we going? I have work to do today." You asked, fumbling with a shirt that was on the floor of your bedroom.
"Does eleven o'clock work?"
You glanced over to the clock, reading the time.
7 PM.
You'd be done with work at around eight-thirty.
Thinking for a moment, you reluctantly agreed. "Okay. LUX, right?"
"Yay! Yeah, the owner's super hot. And so is one of the bartenders. Maya? Macie? Something with an 'a' and 'm'."
"Gosh, you thirst over everyone."
"You would, too, if you saw them! Which you will. Well, I don't know if the bartender will be there, but—"
You two talked a while, until you had to do your at-home work.
You liked working at home because you didn't really like going out to work for countless hours, but sometimes it was nice to let loose.
Like at this club you were going to go to, which you were kind of nervous about.
Your mind gave you flashbacks of one night when you just turned twenty-one and went to a club with your friends, Hørizon was the name.
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The sounds of booming music made it's way to your ears, your head pounding.
"Five shots of whiskey over here!"
"Um, I- I don't think I ca..." Too drunk, you couldn't even finish your sentence, as you wobbled a bit in your seat.
A minute later, a whiskey shot was in front of you — too drunk and tempted, you grabbed the small glass, gulping it down.
Delilah's friend, Tina, paid for the drinks.
The burning sensation in your throat didn't affect you much after the many shots you took before.
Your head turned to your best friend, Delilah, -which you had just met a few weeks ago at this time-, who was selecting the first contact in her phone to call, since she was a little too drunk to dial a number manually.
"Heeeeeyy, Fionaa, we're at a club." She slurred her words a bit, giggling. You could hear the faint voice from the phone.
"Oh my God, are you drunk?" Delilah only giggled in response, too drunk to make a coherent response. "Okay, I'm assuming you're at that one club you went to last week, right?" "Mmmhm!" "Are you with anyone else?" "Errr... like, my friends."
You could practically feel Delilah's friend pinch her nose. "How many?" "Uhhh... one... two... four..." She paused. "Fourth!" She said, giggling, adding a -th to the word she meant to say.
"Alright. You're lucky you're my... friend."
And then you blacked out, waking up at Delilah's apartment on the couch, others on the floor or sharing the couch with you.
You still remember that awful hangover you had afterwards.
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You chuckled at the memory, stretching a bit. After finishing an essay for your boss, revising and editing it, you glanced at the clock, checking the time.
8:51 PM.
It was definitely past 8:30, but you weren't going until eleven.
You had time to pick out your outfit, relax, and do some housework if you wanted to -which you didn't want to-.
Standing up, leaving the chair you'd been glued to for almost two hours, you sighed, making your way to the closet.
You rummaged through it, and after a little, you found an outfit you liked.
Humming, you put it on your bed, along with your extra wallet (which had less money than your normal wallet, so when you went to the club, you wouldn't lose a bunch of money from being robbed or losing it) and some water to put in Delilah's car to sober up after the club.
You checked your phone before putting it on your charger.
Footsteps padded against the floor as you made your way to the couch to watch some of your favorite show, 'The Good Doctor'.
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'Some' turned into almost three hours.
And now you had eleven minutes to get ready.
You rushed to the bathroom to do your makeup — not like anyone would see it, anyway. But you liked doing your makeup, not because you were insecure, but because you just liked trying new styles.
And you really liked eyeliner.
(Reference picture, I think it's Niki Nihachu, but I'm not sure.)
After you were done, you shoved the makeup into your container in the bathroom, hastily going to your room, fumbling with the clothing to put it on.
After about five minutes, you succeeded, and grabbed your phone from the charger, opening your messaging app up.
You
Hey, you ready?
Seen at 10:57 PM.
Lilah 💖
yep. i'm already headed there.
Seen at 10:57 PM.
You
Don't text while driving.
Seen at 10:57 PM.
And don't respond to this.
Seen at 10:58 PM.
You turned off your phone, putting it in your pocket, grabbing your stuff, your wallet shoved in your other pocket, two bottles of water in the other hand.
A few minutes later, your door opened to reveal your friend in a clubbing outfit, her curly black hair mostly laying on her right shoulder.
She had a see-through black top with another top under it, the same color.
Delilah had a black bag, the actual bag part laying on her right hip, the strap on her left shoulder.
She had a black skirt-shorts with a red and black plaid flannel tied around her waist.
The beautiful woman also had long, black, high heeled boots, going up to under her knees, but short enough to walk.
Her tattoos were slightly visible on the lower thighs.
(What I based her off of. Not sure who this is!)
"If I wasn't planning on making a move on that bartender — if she's there, I would try to date you, oh my God, you're gorgeous." Her lips formed a flirtatious, but platonic joke.
"Oh my gosh, you're definitely prettier, what the hell do you mean?" You smiled, winking.
"Alright, you've convinced me, I'm prettier." She said, shrugging her shoulders. You let out a playful pout, "Damn, I'm so broken."
"Whatever, you'll get over it. Let's go!" She smiled, tugging your arm, taking the water bottles and putting it in her bag so you could lock the door.
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Soon, you both arrived at the fancy, famous club called LUX.
Excitedly, your friend, Delilah, got in line with you, figuratively jumping up and down with joy.
"Oh my God, you'll love it here, Y/n. All of the men, women, and enbys are definitely gonna hit on you, bae."
"Assuming I'd be confident enough to let them approach me."
She rolled her eyes, chuckling.
You both got closer and closer to the doors of the provocative strip club, you both paid your halves when you finally approached the doors.
Stepping into the building, you both smiled. 'This time, I won't drink as much.' You promised yourself.
Oh, how promises break.
Immediately, Delilah went to the bar — partly for the drinks, but mostly because she saw a particular bartender.
Giggling at the absurdity of her actions, you went to a couch, not drunk enough to have confidence to talk to people or dance — not that most of them would remember, considering how many had drinks in their hands.
You fiddled with a silver ring you had bought about a month ago, which laid on your index finger.
"Why, hello! I've never seen you here before! I would remember a face like yours." A velvet voice was heard, oddly close to you.
'Wait, are they talking to me?'
You whipped your head up, mouth parted a little.
There stood a tall, dark haired man with dark eyes, a black suit with a slightly visible white shirt under it, black, shiny shoes on his feet.
You swallowed. "Hello..."
You should've gotten drunk beforehand.
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Hello, everyone! I have no clue how drinking or hangovers work, or strip clubs, since I'm 18, but I hope it's not too far off. 🖤
Sorry it took so long to get to Lucifer, it's more of an introduction to some characters in this chapter.
Also, Delilah is bisexual, and goes by she/they.
The reader is possibly bi-curious, it depends on your view of the reader. <33
Delilah may have a lil' crush on Maze and just thinks Lucifer is hot, haha
#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer morningstar#lucifer imagines#lucifer morningstar imagines#x reader#female reader
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I trust you
Prompt number: 31 “I trust you”
Fandom: Marvel
Paring: Bucky Barnes x reader
Part two to Trust me for once.
Rating: T
Word count: 2.2k
Warnings: Swearing. Mentions blood, violence, and death. A lil angst.
A/N: I just want to write for Bucky for the rest of fictober, someone stop me please. I don’t know why I love this fic so much, but I do. Maybe it’s my lack of sleep messing with me lmao. I passed 500 followers and I can’t possibly begin to explain how much that means to me and how much I love each and every one of you! When I started my Tumblr last year to write some shitty self indulgent fanfics I never thought anyone would ever read them. I never imagined having 500 people following my shitty blog.
In the week and a half since Hydra had captured you, Bucky has been spiraling. When he got to the quinjet and turned to look for you, his heart fell into the pit of his stomach when he couldn’t find you. Everything you had said to him in the warehouse started to make more sense, you phrashed things a specific way; ‘so long as it gets you out of here safely.’ He knew you weren’t coming, but he still made Steve keep the quinjet there and wait until it was almost too late and the team was under attack again.
Back at the compound Bucky spends all of his time in his room or down in the gym punching- and breaking- one of the many punching bags, throwing his knives at targets, and working on his shooting. He isn’t sleeping and he isn’t eating, he won’t even talk to Steve when the super soldier tries to get him to talk- whether it be about what happened in the warehouse or anything in general.
Steve, Sam, and Tony are exhausting every resource they have to find you, Hydra had moved you to another location as soon as the quinjet was out of sight of the base. On the rare occasion Bucky isn’t in the gym or his room, he's hovering over the shoulders of the three men hoping he’ll see something they missed. He doesn’t, and only succeeds in annoying aforementioned men with his brooding stares and silence.
Bucky has nightmares on a daily basis again, something that his time in Wakanda with Shuri and T’Challa had gotten rid of. The only difference this time is he doesn’t see himself. He sees everything he went through, all the tourture he endured and the innocent bloodshed, but instead of him you’re in his shoes. He watches you get your brain turned into mush in the damn chair. He watches you forgetting everyone- forgetting him- and then going after the Avengers because you don’t know any better. He can never wake up from the nightmares, he’s stuck in them until he watches you die or you kill him.
Twelve days after you’re taken, Bucky's down in the gym, sitting on a chair because the memories of you in the warehouse are consuming him. You saying that he hates you and to just trust you for once are playing on repeat. How could you think he doesn't trust you?
“I trust you!” he screams into the empty gym, wishing he’d told you so in the warehouse, hurling the knife that was resting in his hand into the wall across from him. He goes to run his hands through his long strands of hair, forgetting he had cut most of it off, something you would refer to as pulling a Britney. He has no idea what that even means, but you say it everytime you or Nat impulsively cut your hair super short. Instead he pushes the palms of his hands into his eyes, trying to push the memories away. “I could never hate you.”
Steve enters the gym quietly, observing his best friend for a few minutes. He’s never seen him this bad before, not even when he was consumed by guilt when he realized all of the innocent lives that were lost by his hands. Steve was aware that Bucky has had feelings for you since he saw you, immediately becoming infatuated with your beauty. His feelings continued to grow when he learned your humor, sarcasm, intelligence, and saw your skill in battle. Steve knew Bucky was intimidated and nervous, not as skilled with the women like he was seventy years ago and that’s why he didn’t talk to you, but Steve never realized that Bucky cared this much.
“Hey Buck,” Steve finally speaks, causing Bucky to stand up and pretend he wasn’t just having a breakdown. “We’ve got something.”
Bucky doesn’t verbally respond, instead he brushes past Steve and walks out of the gym. Steve quickly leads the way to the lab, filling Bucky in on the new development. Hydra is streaming a live feed of you chained to a chair right to every computer and television screen in the compound. When the two get to the lab, packed with the rest of the Avengers huddling around the same screen, Bucky see’s you for the first time in twelve days. The first time you aren’t a figment of his imagination. You’re bruised and bloody: split lip with dried blood on your chin; dried blood on your forehead from where you must have wiped the blood from the cut on your eyebrow so it didn’t drip into your eyes before you were chained to the chair; you’re left eye black, blue, and bruised; your skin has a yellow hue and your cheeks are hollow from malnutrition.
Bucky wants to scream, he wants to put a fist through a wall, and he wants to kill whoever laid a hand on you. The Avengers watch quietly as he squeezes through the gaps in the group's huddle so he can be by the screen. By you. You aren’t staring at the camera, instead staring straight in front of you, where he imagines Hydra agents are standing.
“You don’t want another Winter Soldier,” your voice is the exact opposite of your appearance, it’s still so strong and determined. “You want the Winter Soldier. You wanted us to intercept the messages and show up at the base, it was an ambush.”
“Very good, Ms. (Y/L/N),” a man speaks off screen, he has a thick Russian accent, but Bucky doesn’t recognize it. “The only problem was that you seemed to figure it out that day, and ruined our plans.”
“Oops?” your sarcasm garners another slap, the ring on the man's hand causing a gash on your cheekbone. “It’s been what, over a week? How long are you gonna keep me?”
“Until Soldat switches places with you,” you let out a loud bark of a laugh that echoes off the walls in the small room.
“Bucky, your Soldat, he won’t sacrifice himself for me,” you laugh at the man interrogating you.
“We learned of his affections for you-” you cut him off with another laugh.
“You need to fire whoever told you that,” you can’t stop laughing at the absurdity that came out of the Hydra agents mouth. And you don’t care if he becomes angry and annoyed with you, you’re gonna get killed no matter what. Your eyes quickly flick to the camera set up on your left, the one the Hydra agents thought you hadn’t seen, before continuing knowing the Avengers had to be seeing all of this. “The only affection Bucky has for me is hatred. He hates me, there’s no way he’d switch places for little old me. You should have captured literally anyone else if you wanted him to be upset. He can’t stand me! We can’t even hold a simple conversation, and he always leaves the room when I’m in it. We were only paired up on this mission because of a fluke accident. Face it, you fucked up. I’m worthless to your Soldat.”
“That’s not true!” Bucky feels like he’s yelling it at the screen, but his protest is only a whisper. The rest of the team watches him with sad eyes, he’s looking at you so longingly. Trying to will you to understand how he feels about you through the screen. As if on cue, you glance at the camera again, giving it a sd smile, accepting your fate. A loud ping comes from one of the computers in the lab, but Bucky keeps eye contact with you, even though he knows you can’t see. He doesn’t realize he’s doing it until his flesh hand is pressed against the television.
“We’ve got a location!” Tony yells, already calling for his suit.
“Then you’re worthless to me!” the hydra agent growls, stopping the team in their tracks who were on their way to change.
“No,” Bucky pleads, when he hears the safety of a gun clicking off.
“Any last words for your precious Avengers?” the man asks you, gesturing to the camera, he hadn’t noticed you’d already seen it.
“I’d say tell my family I love them,” you’re openly talking to the camera now. “But I don’t have any. So thank you for being the family I never had, and the family I always wanted. I love every single one of you.”
A tear slips from your non swollen eye, a matching one rolling down Bucky’s cheek. The screen goes black, a gun goes off, and then the feed cuts completely. “No!” he screams, going to punch a hole in the television, but his fist goes right through due to it being Stark technology.
“Where are you going?” Steve calls as Bucky heads to exit to the lab, no one else moving, too shocked to register everything that just happened.
“Let’s go kill those bastards,” is his gruff response, heading towards the hanger with the Quinjet since he’s already dressed in his tactical gear from his time in the gym.
Steve and Tony are the first ones dressed and ready to go, but the latter hangs back so Steve can talk to his best friend privately. Steve doesn’t say anything when he sits beside the brunette, he doesn’t know where to begin.
“(Y/N) died thinking I hated her Stevie,” Bucky’s voice breaks. “I kept my distance cause I didn’t want to hurt her. And then I saw her with Sam and I was jealous so I started to ignore her more. I pushed her away because I was scared and jealous. And now she’ll never know that I love her.”
--
A shot rings through the small room you’re stuck in, the bullet lodging into the wall beside your head. You glance at the camera, finding the red light off. Your team, your family thinks you're dead. That was his damn plan, he knows they’ll come to avenge you.
“Sit tight,” he smirks, the barrel of his gun coming into contact with your skull, effectively knocking you out.
Your head is heavy and pounding in pain when you finally come to. Outside the door you can hear screams and guns going off at rapid speed. You cringe away from the sound when someone uses their body to break open the door to your room. The sound of familiar footsteps clomping towards you causes you to perk up, it’s Bucky. You can’t open your eyes or even move your head towards the sound to alert him that you’re okay, but you hear a whispered “thank god,” when he hears your steady heartbeat. From the crunching sound you can tell Bucky used his vibranium hand to crush the handcuffs keeping you attached to the chair.
He picks you up bridal style, holding you close to his warm chest. You involuntarily cuddle into the warmth, causing Bucky to smile lovingly down at you. “I’ve got you now,” he whispers, hand caressing your cheek, careful not to put pressure on your many cuts.
When you wake up again, you're in the familiar sterile medbay at the compound. A heavy weight is on your hand, looking over you notice it’s Bucky's hands clutching yours, his head tipped back on the seat he’s in.
“He hasn’t left your side,” Sam smirks at the scene from the doorway, holding a falcon stuffed animal. You playfully roll your eyes at the gift, but reach for it with your free hand. Bucky starts to stir, so Sam gives you a kiss on the forehead and heads for the door again. “Tinman’s whipped.”
The first thing you notice when you glance at Bucky again is his hair. He cut it all off when you were gone. As much as you loved his luscious locks and thought he was hot with them, he’s undeniably sexy with the short hairstyle. “You cut your hair,” Bucky immediately wakes up the rest of the way at your voice, ocean blue eyes staring into yours. “It looks good on you.”
“You could have died,” his voice exasperated. “And the first thing you mention is my hair. I’ve been worried sick, (Y/N)!”
“I was fine,” you roll your eyes, trying not to think of just how close to death you came. “I’m fine now.”
“Next mission I get to call the shots,” he grumbles. “I’m not having the woman I love almost die for me again.”
“I love you too Buck,” you ignore the fact that he didn’t mean for you to hear his confession. “Why else would I be willing to die for you?”
He shoots out of his seat, eyes wide as he stares down at you. You push up to a sitting position, moving to the side of the bed, motioning for Bucky to lay beside you. He seems to debate with himself about whether he should or not, before finally laying down and gently pulling you into his arms. You crane your neck up to look into his eyes, he leans down and your lips meet timidly at first. It quickly turns into a slow loving kiss, the two of you wanting to prolong for as long as you can. You reach a hand up, caressing his face before slipping it through his now short locks.
Permanent tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen @rexorangecouny @mrs-malfoy-always
#bucky barnes x reader#fictober20#day 13 of fictober#bucky barnes#james barnes#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#james buchanan bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x y/n#bucky x you#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#marvel#marvel imagine#marvel x reader#marvel fanfiction
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The Rewatch Academy: Episode 4 of Season 1
“Man on the Moon”
I am in no way a good analyst so my little analysis and speculations probably sound a bit goofy or pretty wild and probably mean nothing at all. Everything I put into this post about each episode is purely what I noticed or thought, whether it’s funny or serious. I will be making jokes, so please just leave it at that (in no way am I trying to make fun of an actor and or character!) I am also in no way saying I noticed this stuff first. This is just what I noticed while rewatching these episodes
☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂
1x01 | 1x02 | 1x03 |
☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂
☂ So at that point Luther had already been alone for about five years (due to his siblings leaving when they were 18 or even 17 according to Diego), and by alone I mean he did’t have his siblings with him. I’m not counting Reginald, Grace, or Pogo because I’d imagine they weren’t the best company. There was a two year gap between Luther getting the serum and then being sent to the moon. He had already been “alone” for five years before he was sent away to be completely alone for four years. He hasn’t had really any social/outside interaction besides going on missions for almost ten years, which means Luther is an awkward dude and he hasn’t been a true leader because he hasn’t had anyone to lead. I don’t think people really realize this and I think that’s where some of the hate towards him comes from
☂ We see that Luther looks into Allison’s and Klaus’s bedrooms as he makes his way down the hall, and I’m willing to bet he did that for all of his siblings. Makes me wonder how many times the siblings went to Five’s room to visit it or to even check with hope that he had come back
☂ I wish I could ride my bike around my house and chug a gallon of milk :[
☂ I can’t believe that Reginald still made him wear that leather battle suit 💀
☂ Why are there posters of animal anatomy in the infirmary?
☂ Apparently it takes between two to four months to grow a full beard, so that’s about how long Luther had been lying there
☂ *suffers through the Allison and Luther scene*
☂ “HoPe I wAsN’t BeInG tOo LoUd”
☂ Vanya and Leonard were really sweet in the beginning. Screw you Leonard
☂ It’s really sad that not one his siblings notice that Klaus is gone. Not. One.
☂ Are you telling me that Klaus and Five are certified freaks? At least I’m sure that’s who Cha Cha is referring to, or maybe it’s Luther
☂ I tried looking up tortures in Trinidad to see if Cha Cha was referring to any specific event, but I think it’s just a random thing in the show
☂ It’s only when Diego mutters “The boy” that it reminds him either of Five’s superhero name “The Boy” or his new appearance as a teen again so it finally clicks in his head that that’s who the mystery kid is
☂ Diego admitting that he doesn’t really know how to process his feelings!
☂ He’s very protective of his family and that’s something that I love about Diego. He doesn’t know who Hazel and Cha Cha are but all he knows is that they are searching for Five for some reason and that his siblings almost got killed last night
☂ Five doesn't realize the suffering that he’s putting his family through at this point since he’s only focused on finding who’s responsible for the end of the world. It’s ironic that he’s doing all of this to keep them alive and safe and yet him not being with them almost got them killed. Five buddy, you should have included all of your siblings from the start no matter how much they annoy you
☂ Also where has Five been this entire time? He left the van at night and now it’s the next morning. He’s been following the guy but why did it take him so long to corner him?
☂ Ope, and there’s a continuation error! When Luther takes his arm out of Five’s dresser, he takes part of the wood panel with him. When it cuts back to Diego talking there’s just a fist size hole
☂ “We barely got out with our lives.” Okay but where were you, Pogo?
☂ It’s funny how quickly they revert to child-like shame when Pogo scolds them. At least they still respect him I guess
☂ Is Hazel eating potato chips with ketchup?
☂ I think one reason why nobody notices that Klaus is gone is because none of them saw him that night during the attack. They possibly assumed he already had left the Academy??
☂ Looooove the “Shingaling” scene. They are straight up vibing
☂ I don’t know why Luther was frustrated with the van door being locked. It’s not like he could rip the door off or anything.......
☂ I have a two questions here:
Why did Diego know where to find Five based off of the book? Sure he saw that it came from the library, but that doesn’t mean that he’ll be there
Wouldn’t Luther and Diego have seen the smoke coming from the Meritech building? Unless they left immediately and weren’t able to see the smoke even though they probably were still in the vicinity when it began to burn
☂ Five is holding the man’s arm to make sure that he doesn’t get away (hard to tell in the pic below though). He needs that sense of security that this lead isn’t going to escape his grasp, but I’m sure that if he were to run he wouldn’t get far when you can just teleport after him
☂ I got a nice pic of Five (also the dude on the bike that was riding behind Five as he runs up in this shot just does not care that this building is on fire)
☂ When it shows Five on the ground, it at first starts off with light and slightly comedic music before it quickly switches over to something dramatic. I always thought it was funny that they play the light stuff as we see Five just laying there 💀
☂ You can see just how quickly Five’s face changes from shock to disbelief and disappointment as his only lead is literally blown away from him look, you can pinpoint the exact moment his heart breaks. Also Five definitely would have had hearing issues since we can see that the windows on the building behind him were shattered. He’s staring into your soul....
☂ There’s nothing really significant about this at all, but Whippets are racing dogs and in the comics Five goes to watch a dog race at one point
☂ “I hate sprinkles.” Hey, me too!
☂ I love that Griddy’s is still open despite the damage that was done to it
☂ Diego left home at 17 (which is illegal so I wonder if he was emancipated or maybe Diego ran away and Reginald didn’t care to look for him) so I wonder if the others left when they were 17 too or if they waited until they were 18
☂ Luther I don’t really think you’re one to talk about being “grown up” my guy. In fairness none of the Umbrellas know how to be fully functioning adults, not even Five who’s about twice the age of his siblings and is almost a senior citizen
☂ “I stayed because the world needed me.” Hey that was basically Five’s reason too, but more so for getting to see his family again. Anyways, like brother, like, uh, brother!
☂ "And things are never gonna go back to the way they used to be.” You sir just predicted the next week(s) (and technically years in the 60s) of your life and the lives of your siblings! This also applies for what happens after those weeks/years, but we haven’t gotten there yet but it’s certainly not the way things used to be!
☂ How was Luther upset enough that he wanted Diego to stop talking after he said something genuine and a bit sad?
☂ This whole relationship talk isn’t exactly relatable......
☂ He’s just chillin’
☂ Reginald can ✨perish✨ Oh wait, he already did
☂ Here I am taking any little scrap and running with it, but when Five says he’s going through puberty twice does that mean that he didn’t get his aging altered by The Commission? In the comics, Temps Aeternalis/Commission stopped Five’s aging but here it sounds like that didn’t happen. Since we haven’t heard anything about Five’s DNA in the tv show we don’t really know much about his aging alteration either. I think that they really do have to leave that part out due to Aidan himself, who is a growing teen, and for the fact that they would need to come up with an excuse for Five’s aging (Aidan already looks different in S2 and he’s taller too). I wish they would bring this stuff up in the show!
☂ Five deflects answering the question of what he’s the best at most likely just because he’s just distracted but also possibly because he doesn’t want his brothers to know at this point
☂ First the feral chimp smile and now this
☂ Five actually sounded serious when he was talking about how many people he has killed and how he’s the ”Four frickin’ Horsemen” which is more so an exaggeration but it still shows us that he views himself as dangerous and powerful. He revealed this to them while he was drunk, even though they don’t really understand, but I wonder if Five ever actually planned on telling his siblings what he did and how much blood he has on his hands. I feel like he would have told them after he had saved the world from the apocalypse, but yet again I could also see him brushing off questions in relation to what he just said to Luther and Diego to hide his past from his family
☂ ✨”Little Psycho”✨
☂ As eerie as all of those ghosts are, it’s a really neat scene
☂ It’s not really meant to be funny, but Klaus denying the duct tape just reminds me of a little kid refusing to go into timeout
☂ I guess Cha Cha got out through the door next to the bathroom when Klaus was banging his head on the table?
☂ It’s a shame that Patch died right away, I really liked her
☂ Klaus, where you’re going really isn’t any better
☂ It’s sweet that Diego puts Delores down gently and doesn’t just toss her somewhere. Even though she’s a mannequin, Diego knows that she means something to Five
☂ Well Luther I think it’s pretty self-explanatory what he meant. You just need more context
☂ Diego: *signaling that someone, possibly a threat, is approaching and to be alert*
Luther: 🕴👁`👄’👁
☂ Even if they did think that Klaus had left the Academy before Hazel and Cha Cha attacked it, it’s sad that it took them this long to think about him
☂ Luther patting Delores is so cute
☂ Say it with me kids, “Patch deserved so much better!”
☂ My heart breaks to see Diego so heartbroken and upset, especially when he says “I gotta go, okay? I can’t be here when they come, okay?” Ugh, that gets me
☂☂☂☂☂☂☂
Feel free to comment or reblog with things you have noticed too!
#tra#the rewatch academy#tua#the umbrella academy#umbrella academy#luther hargreeves#diego hargreeves#allison hargreeves#klaus hargreeves#number five#five hargreeves#ben hargreeves#vanya hargreeves#hazel and cha cha#eudora patch#reginald hargreeves#man on the moon
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you’d come back to me
chapter eight: suggestion
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Summary: Seto Kaiba has been presumed dead for four years after the events of Dark Side of Dimensions. His return causes both unresolved feelings of grief to be brought to the surface and the past to be dragged right back up. In hopes of helping Seto move on and reintegrate back into society at large, Mokuba asks Yugi to work on Spherium II with Seto. Never one to leave a friend hanging, Yugi agrees. Over the course of the project, Seto and Yugi both come to terms with their mutual grief and grow towards a better understanding of each other.
Rating: T
Ships: Yugi Mutou/Seto Kaiba, Mokuba Kaiba/Rebecca Hopkins, Katusya Jonouchi/Mai Kujaku
Warnings: aged up characters, grief, references to suicide
consider supporting me on kofi / battle city tiers & above get first access to chapters!
On the first day of development, Seto immediately began to question all of Yugi’s choices in design. “This could be far more effective if we do this instead,” Seto said as he spread out a new code that would take far longer than the allotted time to implement. “I don’t know why you’re doing it that way.”
“We only have a year to get a working prototype to show investors, Kaiba,” Yugi said for what felt like the fiftieth time that day. He was certain that it was, at most, the fifth time. “I’ve already told you it would be unfair on the team to do it that way so we’re doing it the easier way.”
“If you want it to be effective, you should do things right the first time,” Seto snapped and Yugi glared up at him. Once again, Yugi was annoyed that he stopped an inch short of six feet tall. It was hard to be intimidating when Seto was still ever so slightly taller than him and had to wear some sort of heeled boot on top of it. “We should do things this way.”
“Kaiba, believe it or not, the team is not made of robots and we have new rules in place where we’re not allowed to stay in the building past 11 pm,” Yugi said, back straightening out to his fullest height. His eye line still barely met Seto’s nose. “It would be impossible to do things the way you outlined, so we’re keeping things the way I designed.”
“I used to stay at work all night,” Seto countered, not seeming to realize what a very bad argument that was. In fact, Yugi couldn’t help but smirk in response because as far as he was concerned, Seto made his point for him. This seemed to bother Seto, however. “Stop smirking at me. I stayed at work all night and it was fine!”
“Kaiba, you do realize that might just be the worst argument anyone’s ever made right,” Yugi asked as he raised a brow at Seto, enjoying the flush that appeared right across Seto’s cheeks. He couldn’t believe he was ever intimidated by Seto. Seto was basically putty in his hands. “If you did something, that’s proof enough that it does not work. We’re keeping it the way it is. Thank you for your input, now get back to work.”
To his great surprise, Seto shuffled off without another word. Perhaps working with Seto would be a lot easier than expected.
“Mokie,” Rebecca called as she burst right into Mokuba’s office, her badge pinned to the pocket of her pink and blue jacket. Mokuba looked up from his work, a surprised look on his face. While Rebecca did, indeed, frequently visit, she normally at least called ahead. Though he couldn’t say he was complaining as he noted she’d paired the jacket with a pink skirt that showcased her legs. “Whatcha planning for my birthday?”
Mokuba wished he could say he was surprised that Rebecca would think that this was an appropriate reason to visit him at work but he really wasn’t. At least it wasn’t as bad as when she dropped by to ask him about fabrics for the apartment’s couch. She’d been convinced it was dire and refused to admit it could have waited until he got home. “I thought you said you wanted the details of your birthday to be a surprise,” Mokuba remarked as he took a look at the calendar. There were only three days left until Rebecca’s birthday on December 28th. “You also said Christmas gifts do not count towards your birthday gifts.”
“Hanukkah gifts do not count to the overall total either,” Rebecca said seriously, eyeing Mokuba suspiciously. “You should make sure everyone knows that. It might start on the 25th but that doesn’t mean they can cheap out on my gifts.”
“Of course, Rebecca,” Mokuba said, almost amused. He had to admire Rebecca's tenacity. It was part of her charm, after all. He made a mental note to remind Yugi about Rebecca’s gift demands as his hands rested on her hips. “I wouldn't dream of letting you get cheaped out on your gifts, my love.”
Rebecca was instantly mollified by the pet name, a soft smile appearing on her face as she leaned in to press a quick kiss to Mokuba’s cheek. “Good,” she said softly, hopping off the desk and winking at him. “I’ll see you at home, darling!”
Mokuba grinned as he looked over her backside as she walked out the office. As much as he was certain that was another thing that could’ve waited until he got home, he did feel a little more relaxed about going back into working on this project. In fact, he actually didn’t want to get back to work at all.
Yugi checked his watch, keeping a close eye on the time. Jonouchi’s Duel was at six pm and he needed to be at the stadium an hour before the Duel. The tournament that Jonouchi was dueling in had been excited to have snagged Jonouchi for their roster. He took his dueling rather seriously, always working to improve his deck. Yugi had passively mentioned how Jonouchi’s deck had improved to user saggithedarkclown that he’d started to regularly chat with online, who expressed a little bit of doubt that Jonouchi might be able to secure victory. Yugi had a small bet with the user riding on Jonouchi’s victory now.
As expected, the stadium was already a madhouse when Yugi got there. Everyone was chattering with excitement as Yugi was directed to enter through the back. He wound up driving under the stadium and directed to the valet. A security guard met with Yugi, handing him a badge that secured access backstage and made a joke about how it was a formality. Yugi grinned, joking back about how rules are rules. It would be impossible for him to ignore that people knew who he was at this point. “Where’s Jonouchi?”
“He’s getting ready,” the guard said as he led Yugi towards his dressing room. Yugi noted that the halls of the stadium were cold and impersonal until they turned down the hall that led to his usual room. Posters from past exhibition matches and promotions for other events decorated the walls. The few things that weren’t Duel Monsters related stuck out the most. “You’ll see him when the Duel starts. Sorry about that, Mr. Mutou.”
As much as he’d like to wish Jonouchi luck before the Duel, he wasn’t about to break the rules for it. Jonouchi would know that Yugi was rooting for him, after all. He thanked the guard as he ducked into his dressing room. Yugi changed into his professional Dueling attire, noting it over in the mirror. He was still embarrassed by how much it still looked like his old school uniform. He’d been wanting to replace it for the longest time but his manager had insisted this was what people wanted to see. Yugi had a hard time believing that. The backstage of a stadium was the same lineal space it always was. If it were not for the clock on the wall or the watch on his wrist, Yugi could’ve easily lost track of time. “Mr. Mutou,” came the voice of one of the security guards from outside his dressing room. “You’re on.”
His boots clicked on the concrete floor of the hallway with the sounds of the crowd getting louder as he approached the pitch. Before he went out, a stage hand pinned a microphone to his tank top and pressed the battery pack into his back pocket within seconds. She gave him a thumbs up before ducking out of sight as quickly as possible and he stepped onto the platform, staring upwards at the opening that would lift him up into the center of the pitch.
No matter how many times he did this, it always felt strange. The roar from the audience was deafening and the lights in his face prevented him from getting a good look at the audience. Still, he grinned, spreading his arms out as if he wasn’t uncomfortable. “Welcome to the Duel we’ve all been waiting for,” Yugi announced, stepping off the platform onto the field and spinning around as if he could see beyond the first row of the audience. He grinned when he saw Mokuba, Honda, Bakura, Mai, and Otogi in the front row. “Katsuya Jonouchi is going to face off against Ryota Kajiki! A rematch, as it were, for those of you who remember Jonouchi’s time in Battle City!”
The crowd went into a frenzy as Ryota entered the pitch and waved up towards the crowd. Yugi grinned at Ryota. Yugi was glad that the first Duel that Jonouchi had in this tournament was against this Duelist. Ryota was as honorable as ever and always proved to be a real challenge. “I Duel with the raw power of the ocean behind me,” Ryota called, holding up his Duel Disk in a theatrical manner. “Not many have managed to withstand the powerful monsters that hide in the sea!”
“Ryota’s a three time champion, with his most recent victory being in Nagasaki, where he took the top prize. He’s known for his signature Umi based strategies,” Yugi announced. “He seeks to challenge Jonouchi for the Domino City title today! And now, here he comes - Katsuya Jonouchi!”
If the crowd had been frenzied for Ryota, they were absolutely feral when Jonouchi entered the pitch and tossed his bangs out of his eyes with a glean in his eyes. “Been a while, Kajiki,” Jonouchi called out with a grin on his face and activated his Duel Disk. “I’ll warn ya now: I’m not gonna cower away from a challenge! Let’s have a fun Duel!”
“Most of you remember Katsuya’s rise from underdog to third place at Battle City to four time champion,” Yugi called out as he gestured over to his friend with a grin across his features. The crowd roared, and Yugi laughed. “Katsuya, like Ryota, is seeking to proceed forward in the Domino City regional championships in hopes of going to nationals! With his fierce Red Eyes Black Dragon and warriors by his side, he’ll be a tough one to beat!”
“Remember, fair play, fair Duel,” Yugi said as he pulled out the coin, tossing it up in the air. “Heads, Katsuya goes first, tails, Ryota goes first.” He caught it in the air as the drone flew around him, catching the fact that the coin toss came up tails. “Ryota will start! Each player will start with 8000 life points with no draw on the first turn. If a player fails to make a move within five minutes on their turn, they will automatically lose. Duel, start!”
Yugi took a step back, watching the Duel with a sense of pride taking over. Jonouchi really had managed to come a long way since his first Duel. In fact, Jonouchi had managed to get his trusty Red Eyes on the field by turn two. By turn four, Red Eyes Slash Dragon was on the field and equipped with Axe of Despair and Gearfried. “And that’s not all, Kajiki,” Jonouchi said, sounding proud of himself. “I’m tributing from my hand another Red Eyes Black Dragon to bring out Red-Eyes Alternative Black Dragon! And I’ll be setting three cards before heading into my battle phase!”
From there, Yugi saw how that one turn had decided the entire Duel. Ryota never recovered from Jonouchi destroying Umi on the fifth turn with Heavy Storm nor the fact that he’d used that move to set Red-Eyes Fang with Chain. Ryota’s life points hit zero by turn ten - a hard earned victory on Jonouchi’s part. “Katsuya Jonouchi is the winner,” Yugi declared, stepping forward to congratulate Jonouchi on his win.
“You know you didn’t have to fly in for Rebecca’s birthday,” Yugi said as he picked up Anzu at the airport. The unspoken statement was that despite the fact he said she didn’t have to, Rebecca would have been disappointed to not have Anzu at her party. And well, Yugi would have missed having Anzu around too. “Aren’t you busy with rehearsals?”
“I wanted to come,” Anzu said as she tossed her bag in the backseat of Yugi’s car and climbed into the front seat with a bright smile. There might have been a time when that smile might have done strange things to Yugi’s heart. However, now, it was just the smile of a friend who had been there by his side since he was a child. “Thanks for letting me crash on your couch, by the way.”
“Hey, no problem. You know my couch is open for you whenever you want to come home,” Yugi said. “I miss you when you aren’t here.”
“Is Kaiba really driving you that crazy?”
“He’s the worst project partner to ever exist,” Yugi said, more out of impulse than anything else. Last night, Seto had wanted to stay late and Yugi had to put his foot down. While Yugi didn’t mention he had to be up early to pick Anzu up, he did remind Seto that most of the team would like to get home to their families. Seto, naturally, had insisted that working late was good for a person. “He doesn’t seem to get that he’s not the only one working on this project. I asked Mokuba about it and apparently it was the same when he was making the Duel Disk system.”
“Kaiba’s always been intense,” Anzu said thoughtfully. “I suppose you shouldn’t be too surprised that he’s intense with work.”
“I suppose,” Yugi said with a sigh, shaking his head slightly. He couldn’t help but think about all the times Kaiba had blown off the team building nights. At every turn, Kaiba wanted to undermine Yugi’s leadership. Now that was the part that pissed Yugi off the most. “Just wish he’d get that this is supposed to be a team effort. He seemed shocked that it wasn’t just him and I working on the project.”
Anzu pursed her lips, tilting her head slightly. “Did Mokuba mention if Kaiba’s ever worked with a team before? This might be the first time he’s actually worked with a team.”
Yugi gave her a lopsided grin. There was a good chance she was right. He’d never really known Kaiba to be much of a team player. Not only that, it was obvious that Kaiba was smart enough to create the projects he had on his own. “Are you suggesting that I simply aggressively apply friendship to my problems with Kaiba?”
“It’s worked before,” Anzu teased with a light shrug. “Besides… you and I both know teamwork is best with people you’re friends with. Oh! Maybe you should try inviting him to hang out after work one on one! That would help establish a rapport.”
“It might help since he’s blown off every single group night,” Yugi admitted. Plus he could see if Kaiba had changed at all in the past four years. Sure, Kaiba hadn’t physically aged but maybe something was different. Maybe Kaiba was not the Kaiba from his memories. “I think that also it’d help Kaiba to relax around me. He’s always so tense.”
“In that case, it might be good for the two of you to hang out without work involved,” Anzu said brightly. “Might help him relax and help him realize that the team nights don’t have to be so scary. You’ve always been good at helping stressed out people relax.”
Yugi laughed, shaking his head. “Anzu, I think that it would take a miracle to make Kaiba relax.”
Just then, his phone pinged and Yugi glanced towards his phone. Normally he’d pull over to see if it was another message from saggithedarkclown but with Anzu in the car… “Did you want me to check who messaged you,” Anzu asked.
“Uh, yeah,” Yugi admitted with a light blush across his cheeks. “I’d actually like that.”
Anzu picked up his phone, checking it before giggling. “It’s from someone called Saggi The Dark Clown,” she remarked, raising a brow at him. “Interesting username. I thought Jou had that sniped.”
“Jou claims he sold it and I’m inclined to believe him cause this guy types a little formally compared to Jou,” Yugi said with a shrug. “So whoever Saggi is -”
“You call him Saggi,” Anzu asked, interrupting with a laugh before waving her hand with a teasing smile. “Sorry, I’m being rude. Tell me more.”
“Thanks for being mature about this,” Yugi said, the blush on his face darkening. He wished he wasn’t prone to blushing. Anzu was sure to pick up on that. “Anyway. Saggi was posting about being out of the game for four years and wanted to get back into the swing of things and wanted to know more about the meta. I’ve just… been helping him. That’s all.”
“Oh is that all,” she teased, a twinkle in her eyes. “Why Yugi! Have you finally started to crush on someone new? This is fantastic news!”
“Oh no,” Yugi groaned. “Don’t tell the rest of the gang.”
“Jou would be so happy to hear that you’re starting to move,” Anzu protested. “And you know that Ryou and Honda would also be happy for you too. You’ve been stuck in this state for so long, Yugi. They’d want to hear you’re doing better.”
Yugi sighed. “Let me tell them on my own,” he said softly, knowing Anzu was right. They’d absolutely be happy to hear that he was no longer stuck on Atem. It’d been a long time since Yugi had allowed himself to fall for anyone. He’d been terrified to fall and risk losing them again. It was terrifying still, actually. “It’s still just someone I’m talking to online about Duel Monsters, anyway. It’s not really a crush.”
Anzu laughed. “It would be like you to fall for someone over a game,” she teased. “I’m happy for you, though. I hope this works for you.”
Seto didn’t understand why he had to wear a tuxedo specifically for Rebecca’s birthday party. In fact, he also wasn’t sure why Mokuba insisted that Seto buy a grand total of ten gifts for Rebecca. He was fairly certain Rebecca was Jewish. He didn’t understand why he had to buy her a Christmas gift to begin with, nor did he understand why his Hannakuh gift couldn’t count towards her birthday gift. He messed with the Kaiba Corp branded cufflinks on his suit jacket, wondering why anyone would want so much attention on them during their birthday. He also didn’t know what was wrong with having the birthday in the apartment. No, Mokuba had rented out a ballroom for Rebecca’s birthday.
In fact, everything about this seemed over the top. He was certain that more than Mokuba and Rebecca’s usual friend group was going to show up considering the amount of food at the banquet table and the ostentatiously large cake. A DJ had been hired and he was setting up his equipment while Mokuba seemed to be dealing with the staff. From what Seto could tell, it seemed like the staff and Mokuba had a rapport going on. Mokuba laughed at something one of the employees said and Seto was stunned to realize that it seemed like Mokuba was a natural leader. A pang in his chest as he realized that yet again, he never got to see Mokuba develop this skill in his absence. Mokuba had pulled his long hair back into a ponytail and the long hair was the only thing Seto recognized in his brother. His brother had taken to wearing suits of varying colors. Today, it was a baby blue suit with a pink tie and a pale lavender vest.
Seto hadn’t seen Rebecca yet. In fact, he was certain the only reason Mokuba insisted that Seto help set up the party was to talk to him about how things were going with Yugi on Spherium II. He wouldn’t be sure how to answer that question. In many ways, it was going poorly. Yugi insisted on ending the work day early, losing valuable hours because Yugi wanted to go home early. It seemed like Yugi didn’t really care about getting this project done as quickly as possible. He hadn’t even begun to form what he would tell Mokuba when Mokuba had strode over to where he was standing. “You know I didn’t expect you to stand around and do nothing,” Mokuba remarked casually. “I hope you aren’t doing this to Yugi at work.”
“I’m not,” Seto said defensively. “I just don’t get the point of having a birthday party at all. People get older every year. No point in celebrating it.”
“Some people like their birthdays,” Mokuba said with a shrug. “Rebecca happens to like celebrating her birthday. And well, might as well indulge her since it doesn’t harm anything. Plus twenty-one’s a big deal for Americans.”
“I suppose,” Seto said, remembering Rebecca’s threat to break his legs if he ruined her birthday the way he ruined his own birthday. He didn’t think he’d ruined anything but he’d prefer not to test Rebecca. “You seem to really care about her.”
“Yeah,” Mokuba said softly. “She’s smart and driven and keeps me down to Earth. I wish you two would get along.”
Seto noted the look on Mokuba’s face in an attempt to better understand the meaning behind those words. It seemed it really did bother Mokuba that he and Rebecca did not get along. How peculiar. He wouldn’t think Rebecca and his relationship wouldn’t have an impact on Rebecca and Mokuba’s relationship or his and Mokuba’s relationship but it seemed it did. “Alright,” Seto said, just as soft. He didn’t want Mokuba to be upset. He’d already done enough damage in that regard. Seto was certain he’d have to spend the rest of his life making up for his past mistakes to Mokuba at this rate. “I’ll try to be nice today. Shame that can’t count as my gift to her.”
“Rebecca’s touchy with gifts,” Mokuba said, seriously. “She’s used to her gifts being lumped together and her birthday being treated as another holiday stressor. I don’t want her to think she’s just a stress point.” He paused before grinning as if he’d come up with a brilliant idea. “Maybe you two should hang out more. Get to know each other. I really think you’d like her if you just got to know her.”
Seto gave a soft “tch” before relanting. “Fine,” Seto said as he thought about all the times he’d been alone with Rebecca. Every time, it felt like he was with a caged lioness who was on the hunt for her young. “I’ll try to find more time to spend with her.”
Seto was surprised when the doors opened and who should walk in but Ryou wearing an odd tweed suit. “Hi, Mokuba,” Ryou said, holding up a large gift. “I hope Rebecca likes this. I saw it and thought that she might also think of her grandfather when looking at this.”
“Oh, I’m sure she’ll love it,” Mokuba said with a laugh. “Especially if it came from your shop. I swear, your shop shows up on the bank statement at least three times a month.”
“The tricky part is finding something she hasn’t bought already,” Ryou said with a rather soft smile as he went to place it with the rest of the gifts. Seto had noted that the table already had at least ten gifts on it. “Can’t complain too much. Keeps business steady.”
Seto didn’t know that Rebecca liked occult stuff. He shouldn’t have been surprised considering how many of Mokuba’s friends were enraptured by the occult. For whatever reason, they just seemed to attract occult nonsense. A thought scratched at his head, reminding him that he had forced his way to the afterlife to see a dead man. He supposed he didn’t have much of a leg to stand on in that regard anymore. He’d accepted that magic, for whatever reason, was real. Who was he to stand here and pretend otherwise? It still made his skin crawl knowing there were things that he could not properly explain despite coming to this conclusion.
This line of thought plagued him as other guests began to pour in. As expected, he didn’t recognize all of them. He had to suspect some of them were either duelists or students from Rebecca’s school. In fact, some of them seemed on the older side compared to Rebecca - easily in their late twenties or early thirties. Then again… Rebecca was a PhD candidate. He had to imagine that chances to talk to people her age in that kind of program were few and far between. That was something they could connect on, Seto considered.
Much like Rebecca, Seto never really had many chances to connect to people his age. He was, after all, the CEO of a major corporation by the age of fifteen. All the people he’d interacted with at that time were twenty plus years older than him. Perhaps that was why he’d reacted the way he had to Yugi and his friends. He didn’t know how to interact with people his age. He froze as he remembered that Yugi and his friends weren’t exactly his age anymore. He was completely disconnected from them now.
He was so caught in his thoughts that he never expected the wind to be knocked out of him like this when Yugi finally arrived with none other than Anzu on his arm. He didn’t know why he was so surprised. Hadn’t he already pinged them as dating? He couldn’t help but note they were matching. Anzu had a chiffon dress in yellow on and Yugi himself was wearing a gold vest with a black tie underneath his suit. Yugi seemed to be laughing at something she said and his cheeks were slightly tinged pink. Why did this scene bother Seto?
It took him a few moments to pinpoint the emotion. Was this jealousy? Was he jealous of Anzu? Did he want to be with Yugi? He took more note of Anzu than he ever had. He knew she’d been cast as Black Magician Girl in some musical on Broadway. He doubted it was actually Broadway but he hadn’t bothered to double check at the time. If he had to guess, he supposed she was traditionally beautiful. The kind of face he might see in a museum while other girls remarked upon how much they looked like that.
He was staring just a little too long. “Mokie said I have to try to make an effort to get to know you,” came a voice and it took Seto a minute to ping it as Rebecca. He’d been so focused on Anzu and Yugi that he’d forgotten the rest of the world existed. How embarrassing. “Hello? Earth to Seto?”
Seto turned towards Rebecca and instantly noted that Rebecca had ditched her glasses for the day. He suspected that Mokuba had a hand in the dress she wore as it looked just a tad out of budget for a university student. “Sorry,” Seto said, not really sorry at all. “I was just thinking. Er… Mokuba said I have to be nice to you today. Happy birthday, by the way.”
“Good,” Rebecca said and for once, she didn’t look close to murdering him. In fact… she seemed almost a little relaxed. He was guessing that the party must have something to do with that. “Thanks… so… uh. I actually…” She seemed a little bit lost. What could she possibly have to say that would leave her looking this confused? He’d never known Rebecca to mince her words. “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry I was harsh on you for the past few months. It’s just… when you disappeared… you weren’t there, but I was. Mokie was heartbroken and I know that you probably didn’t mean to cause that now. I was just scared that you’d hurt Mokie again and that wasn’t fair of me. So… start over?”
Seto was taken aback. Her hostility had been because she cared about Mokuba. He could respect that, actually. If everything she’d done towards him was out of concern for Mokuba, Seto had a newfound admiration for Rebecca. “If that was your reason, then I suppose I can’t fault you for it,” Seto admitted. It seemed both Yugi and Rebecca had similar reasons to be angry with him and it all came back to Mokuba. He didn’t know if he could ever forgive himself for hurting Mokuba. “And I would rather you keep holding me accountable for that. It’s better I don’t try to brush it aside.”
Rebecca eyed him critically. “I don’t want to keep harping on it,” she said slowly, tilting her head. Seto had noted long ago that Rebecca had to crane her neck upward when it came both to Mokuba and him. Today, she didn’t need to and could almost meet his eyes. He could only assume this meant she was wearing heels underneath her dress. “The past is the past. Nothing any of us can do can change it. All we can do is try to be our best every day. Right, Seto?”
There was something fierce in her voice. It seemed like this statement was very important. And Seto wanted to agree with her. It seemed full of promise if he could just let go of the past and stride to the future. “Of course,” Seto said softly. Was it not him who said that they could break free of the prison of reality? That the future was theirs to shape as they saw fit? It all required him to put the past squarely in the past, however. Could he do that? Let go of all his grief and rage? He wanted to. He’d never wanted anything more in his entire life. “In that case, Rebecca. Let’s just move forward. I’d like to get to know my brother’s girlfriend properly.”
It seemed he passed. Rebecca smiled brightly as she grabbed his hand. “You’ve got so much to learn,” she said as she pulled him towards the dance floor. “Let’s take it one step at a time, okay?”
#myfanfic#fic: you'd come back to me#rivalshipping fanfiction#dm rivalshipping#dm rivalshipping fanfiction
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Magnus is barely paying attention as his father blathers on about his annual Thanksgiving party. It’s the same as every year, food made by an overpaid chef, schmoosing clients and Magnus being expected to attend and behave.
They don’t even really celebrate Thanksgiving and it’s definitely not about family coming together to be thankful for the things they have and the love they share, it’s a way for his father to impress his clients with the size of his house and the happy little family picture that he, whoever his latest wife is and Magnus make. It’s a fake night, filled with fake rich people that Magnus loathes more and more every single year.
There’s a pause on his fathers end of the line and Magnus scrambles assuming he was asked some sort of question.
“Yes, of course,” he says hoping that’s the right answer. Evidently it’s neutral considering his father’s monotonous response.
“Fine then, I hope that he or she will be an acceptable date for the evening,” his father says. Oh shit, he thinks, did I just agree to bring a date to this thing?
For a moment he considers backtracking saying he won’t be bringing anyone, it’s not like he’s been on so much as a half decent date in over a year, but he knows his father, once you’ve said something you act on it, no turning back. So instead he grits his teeth and accepts he’ll be bullshitting his way through an emergency excuse to why his fake partner couldn’t attend the night of.
“He is very acceptable,” Magnus says faux cheery conjuring up a fake boyfriend in his head. Not that any partner of his could be deemed acceptable by his father, his father even finds his own career path teaching English at NYU to be an underperformance.
“It’s not Columbia,” he always says whenever Magnus talks about his work.
“Well, then I look forward to meeting him,” his father says not at all sounding like he’s looking forward to it. Which is good considering Magnus’ supposed boyfriend is a complete fabrication. “I’ll see you in a week.”
And just like that he hangs up, no goodbye, nothing.
Magnus sighs tossing his phone into the graded paper box on his desk and begins crafting a personality and profession for his fake boyfriend just in case he needs a more solid alibi.
***
Magnus laments his woes to Dot and Catarina later that night, it’s Thursday which means mimosas and movies.
“Part of me just wants to make up an excuse and be done with it, it’s not like he’ll even remember in a week’s time after the fact that I ever even had a supposed boyfriend,” Magnus says pausing to take a sip of his mimosa. “The other part of me just wants to bring the world’s worst date and embarrass him to no end.”
“You mean Camille wasn’t the world’s worst date?” Dot says curling up in the chair beside Cat with her own mimosa in hand.
“Camille was the world’s worst date, but she never was one to make a scene, she was quietly and privately terrible,” Magnus says moving quickly past the topic of his wicked ex. “I mean someone who’s not a bad person, just kind of a mess.”
“Why don’t you hire the guy Dot hired last year for her family reunion?” Cat says not even bothering to look up from her phone as she scrolls reading reviews for the movie they’re about to watch.
“Yeah he was great,” Dot says agreeing with Cat’s suggestion. “His names Alec. He can’t play straight to save his life which made it even better because my whole family was convinced I was not only dating a worthless degenerate, but a worthless degenerate gay man. Hilarious, honestly.”
She pulls up something on her phone and hands it to Magnus. It’s a Craigslist ad titled, Alone on Thanksgiving? Mad at your dad? Tired of your family’s absurd expectations?
He takes the phone reading the post entirely.
My name is Alec Lightwood, I’m a 28 year old almost felon who went to college for three weeks before dropping out. I have a Thunderbird that’s only a year younger than me painted like Eddie Van Halen’s red guitar. It’s hideous and embarrassing and I love it. I can play anywhere between the ages of 23 to 32 depending on if I shave. I’m a bartender and occasional bouncer when the need requires, I haven’t been seen not in a leather jacket with a tear in the back since high school, I’m gay and very bad at hiding it and I’ve even got an eyebrow scar that’s sure to raise a few eyebrows (get it, raise a few eyebrows).
If you’d like to have me as your strictly platonic date for a gathering of some sort, but have me pretend to be in a very serious relationship with you to torment your family, I’m game.
I can do these things at your request:
- Openly hit on other guests while you act like you don’t notice (of any gender, I may be gay but I can embarrassingly hit on anyone even if it’s not convincing).
- Start instigative discussions about politics and/or religion (sports are off the table however unless your family are big into the Rangers or Islanders, then I can talk shit for days.)
- Propose to you in front of everyone and you tearily accept or you turn me down and I proceed to have a breakdown, but we resolve to work on our relationship much to your family’s chagrin.
- Pretend to be increasingly drunk as the evening goes on (sorry, I don’t actually drink anymore, but I used to. A lot. Too much in fact. I know the drill.)
- Start a screaming match with a family member, that could come to blows (but no one will be physically harmed, I promise) either inside or on the front lawn (if there is one) for all the neighbors to see.
I require no pay but the free food I will receive as a guest at any event!
We can meet prior to the event somewhere public and you can ask me any questions. And I mean any questions so that you feel safe.
- Do NOT contact with unsolicited services or offers. Email me at: [email protected]
“Um, he’s a felon?” Magnus says looking up from the phone when he’s done.
“Hey, don’t judge, you’re not exactly rap sheet free,” Dot says scolding him with a smile. Which okay, he does have a few arrests on his record, petty little things and pick-ups at a protest or two, but felonies are a bit above that. He says that aloud. “Also, as it says he’s technically an almost felon.”
“He’s not a murderer or anything, I had Raphael check out his history before I requested his services,” Dot continues on to explain, referring to their friend who’s a prosecutor. “He got picked up for aggravated assault after he caught the guy who got his sister hooked on drugs in her bed shooting her up, it was a bullshit charge from a snake of a man who deserved every hit he got. The charges were ultimately dropped and settled when the piece of shit he beat up got hit with about ten felonies himself. He’s a good guy, like a really good guy I promise.”
“Didn’t Raphael even stress that he never would have convicted Alec in a million years on the charges?” Cat says getting up from her seat and heading to the kitchen to refill her mimosa glass.
Dot nods taking a sip of her drink. “He did, he said any jury would have sided with him over the 30 year old drug pusher preying on an 18 year old girl. And even though we can’t tell him, because we don’t want him to smirk about it all the time and get a big head, we both know Raphael is the best judge of character and lawyer in America.”
It’s true, Raphael always knows what he’s talking about.
“Plus,” Dot continues on. “Alec’s very upfront about it, I didn’t even need to do the background check he told me exactly what went down when we met for coffee before the event, even brought his sister along to corroborate and make me feel comfortable.”
“Wow,” Magnus says genuinely surprised by the decency of a man on the internet.
“Also, he’s very cute,” Dot smirks over the rim of her glass waggling her eyebrows in Magnus’ direction.
Magnus rolls his eyes. “I don’t think it matters if my fake date is cute.”
“So you’re gonna do it?” Catarina says coming back in the room, a pitcher filled to the brim with mimosa mix in her hand.
Magnus bites his lip in thought as he looks down at the phone in his hand again. He does want to cause a ruckus, he’s tired of being the perfect little son when his father needs him to be. And Alec Lightwood might just be able to provide the exact ruckus he’s looking for.
“What the hell,” he mutters before tossing Dot’s phone to her. “Do I need to email him, or do you still have his number?”
Dot smiles in delight as she taps on her phone his own phone buzzing in his pocket a second later with Alec’s number.
***
Alec keeps his text exchanges simple, offering to meet Magnus the following afternoon after Magnus’ noon class for coffee. Alec lets Magnus choose everything, clearly dedicated to making the person contacting him as comfortable as possible. Luckily for Magnus Alec’s had no inquiries for this Thanksgiving, except for one that was definitely unsavory and he turned down immediately.
With such short notice Magnus thought for sure this might not work out.
He walks in scanning the shop looking for Alec and comes up empty based on Dot’s description of him. He gets in line and orders a drink finding a table off to the side where it’s not too crowded to sit and wait. He’s barely settled into his seat when the chime above the door rings and in walks a stunner with long legs and dark hair.
The man pauses scanning the room, then his eyes land on Magnus his lips tilt up just a bit and he walks over his way.
“Magnus Bane?” he says in question when he reaches the table. Magnus is speechless for a moment as the sun catches in the man’s hazel eyes and on the tiny silver hoops in his ears. He shakes himself from the trance he’s in, ignoring the way his eyes shine a little greener when he tilts his head and nods his own head in confirmation.
“Alec Lightwood?”
“That’s me,” the man says with a smile that crinkles at the edges just a bit, he reaches out a hand that Magnus takes shaking it instantly enjoying the contrast of Alec’s cold fingers to his warm ones. Magnus squeezes his hand once before letting go. “I’m just gonna go get a drink and then we can talk,” Alec says stepping back with a tentative, but dazzling smile.
Magnus watches him go enjoying the view of his long legs in motion. He spots the tear in the back of his leather jacket, just like mentioned in his ad, and smiles. Alec comes back moments later a mug of black coffee in hang.
“So you need a bad date for Thanksgiving,” he says tearing open an obscene amount of sugar packets and pouring them into his mug. “I’m guessing before we get into that though, you want to know about the almost felony?”
Magnus shakes his head and Alec looks at him quizzically for a moment, before the puzzle pieces in his mind clearly fall into place.
“Dot,” he says in understanding. “She must have told you everything.”
“She did,” Magnus confirms taking a sip of his drink. “And for the record it sounds like you were in the right.”
Alec smiles a small uncertain smile almost like he’s not sure that’s the truth, but takes the words as a compliment anyways.
“It wasn’t my finest moment, I guess I’m just overprotective when it comes to people I love,” he says running his fingers along the rim of his mug.
“Getting a drug predator away from your sister isn’t just being overprotective, it’s doing the right thing,” he says genuine. He remembers when they were in high school and Raphael had his run with a bad crowd, it never came to it, but he would have done the same thing Alec did if the situation had presented itself.
Alec just shrugs looking off to the side. Magnus sees the uncomfortable set in his shoulders and shifts the conversation.
“You come highly recommended, Dot says you put on one hell of a show at her family reunion,” he says with a bright smile.
Alec’s shoulders ease and he turns back to Magnus with a smile.
“Dot barely needed me, she put on a performance just as stunning, I’ve never seen a woman so small body tackle so many people during what’s supposed to be a friendly game of tag,” he says with a chuckle.
Magnus has heard all about Dot’s deadly game and seen the bruises she proudly displayed from her somewhat violent performance first hand.
“Believe me it’s not the first time she’s tackled down a full-grown man,” Magnus says with a laugh fondly remembering a frat party, an unsuspecting frat boy and a fateful game of beer pong from many years ago.
“Somehow that does not surprise me,” Alec says rubbing a hand across his dark beard. The conversation shifts from there, Magnus giving Alec the full rundown about his father, his current stepmother and the all too haughty evening they’ll be subjected to.
Conversation flows easy between them, Alec seeming to understand a lot of Magnus’ struggles with his family life and Magnus finds himself wondering if there’s more to why he does this bit of charity for people in need.
“So, why exactly is it you do this?” Magnus asks, clarifying quickly when Alec raises his eyebrow in question. They’ve covered the felony yes and it’s clear that Alec just simply cares, but that’s not a full reason why. “I mean I believe that you’re just a genuinely good person who wants to help people, but it’s deeper than that isn’t it?”
Alec pauses for a moment rubbing the back of his neck nervously, Magnus is about to tell him he doesn’t have to explain if it’s an uncomfortable topic just as Alec starts to talk.
“I’m gay,” he says and Magnus smirks, the obviously on the tip of his tongue. Alec picks up on it smiling back. “Obviously, but for a long time I couldn’t be, or at least not at home. My parents are kind of rich, they’d do these big to do holiday parties every year for Thanksgiving and Christmas. When my siblings and I were little they were just big boring adult parties that we’d steal food from. Then we all got old enough to date and to have plans for the future.”
Magnus hums in understanding. That’s how his father’s parties had been, one day he was a kid just stealing cookies and hating the droll grown ups and the next he was a man expected to present himself in certain ways, ways that weren’t remotely who he was.
“By the time I was 21 I was still in the closet, and already on their shit list for dropping out of college, and I never dated and my parents were just determined to find me a wife. Every year it was so and so’s daughter is lovely and has such a strong education or so and so’s daughter is coming and I can’t wait for you to meet her,” he says twisting the coffee mug between his hands. “I’m pretty sure those holiday parties are how my drinking got so bad, forced heterosexuality and an open bar do not mix well together.”
He chuckles and Magnus takes that as an invitation to do the same. Again he gets it, he’s taken his fair advantage of the open bar at his father’s parties many times.
“And then one year my dad was going on about some girl who was at Thanksgiving dinner, I don’t even remember her name, but she was standing there and the whole time he’s talking about how she’s so pretty and so ready to start a family and I should make a move before someone else did. And I was losing my mind internally and evidently I’d had just enough to drink that I just screamed at the top of my lungs that I was gay.”
He pauses taking the last sip of his coffee.
“And then I just left after my mom was trying to talk to me about causing a scene. Then Christmas rolls around and to my extreme shock I get the invite. I thought for sure I was in for the lecture I’d been avoiding for a month, but instead they just acted like Thanksgiving hadn’t even happened,” he shakes his head. “They invited some other poor girl to try and marry me off to and just went on like I hadn’t had a big, gay outburst. My outburst was a lot bigger that time, after that I didn’t get any more party invites, they just cut me out entirely.”
Magnus reaches out resting his hand on Alec’s that’s drumming on the table. “I’m so sorry, Alexander,” he says trying out the full name for the first time guessing that’s what Alec is short for. He likes the way it rolls off his tongue and judging from the way Alec doesn’t correct him he ventures he got it right.
Alec just shrugs with a sad little smile on his lips. “It’s okay,” he says. “I mean it wasn’t back then, but I’m okay now. I don’t need my parents or their money, my siblings are still in my life and I’ve got a whole life outside of that. I can have my gay outbursts in peace now.”
Magnus laughs squeezing his hand once before pulling back, he’s been resting it there much too long now.
They talk logistics after that, establishing a plan for the holiday dinner. Alec immediately offers to bring his Thunderbird to drive to Magnus’ father’s place upstate.
“I don’t have the car not to be embarrassing about it,” he says and Magnus smiles insisting he pays for the gas then.
He spends almost three hours and four coffees with Alec and eventually finds they’re not even talking about the dinner in question, but they’re just talking instead.
It’s an unexpected development.
***
Coffee with Alec goes all too well and by the end of it they have a carefully cultivated story about how they met and how long they’ve supposedly been together all set in stone. Alec ensures him he’ll be the ultimate, best bad boyfriend for the night, and frankly Magnus is having a hard time believing it.
Alec is sweet, kind without even realizing it and looks like the living embodiment of tall, dark and handsome. If Magnus is being honest he’d love to take him out sometime as a real date more than a bad boyfriend for the night.
He calls Dot after they’ve said their goodbyes, walking to his apartment not far from the coffee shop.
“So how’d it go?” Dot asks immediately upon answering the phone.
“He’s incredibly charming without trying to be and cute is a fucking understatement, Dorothea,” he says looking both ways before crossing to the other side of the street.
Dot chuckles wildly on the other side.
“I’m serious, if I was given the opportunity to craft a man based on looks alone I’m pretty sure he’d be what I’d create, he’s gorgeous,” Magnus says as he reaches his building going inside and heading for the elevator.
“I may have undersold him slightly,” Dot says sounding all too innocent.
“And was there a reason for that, my dear?” he says. He’s starting to feel like he’s being set up.
“Perhaps,” she says and he can hear the gleeful smile in her voice. “You can thank me later, for now just enjoy your bad boyfriend.”
***
Five days later on the last Thursday of the month, Magnus waits outside of his apartment for Alec and at three o’clock on the dot Alec’s truly ridiculous car pulls up. It’s even better in person than he described.
The black, red and white lines are exactly like Eddie Van Halen’s infamous guitar and the ’93 Thunderbird is just on the right side of beat up. The left taillight is busted, covered in see through tape and there’s a sizeable dent in the passenger side door.
Alec steps out of the car, a vision in his signature leather jacket, black jeans with far too many tears and dark eyeliner around his eyes. It’s not neat like Magnus’ though, it’s messy. His whole look from his disheveled, but neat hair, to his trimmed beard to his scuffed boots is just on the right side of acceptable, but screams of a wild side as well.
Magnus isn’t as black tie as he knows his father would like him to be, wearing a deep red shirt and tight pants with a line down the side, his perfectly styled hair, curly and soft with matching red streaks running through it. They make a pretty attractive pair if Magnus does say so himself.
Magnus can’t wait to see how the evening plays out.
Alec smiles at him coming over to open the passenger side door, it takes a couple tugs to get it open.
“It’s a little finicky,” he says playfully bowing and gesturing for Magnus to get inside. “Your chariot awaits.”
Magnus smiles stepping into the car. Alec shuts the door tight rounding the car and falling into his seat.
“Ready to cause a scene?” Alec says with a devilish smile that Magnus finds hard to resist.
“Absolutely,” he says with his own answering smile as Alec turns the key and peels out onto the road.
***
The ride up takes about two hours all told with holiday traffic and every minute of it is delightful. Alec tells him more about himself, outside of the surface stuff they’d covered to make sure Magnus was comfortable with this whole night.
He learns Alec loves archery, has an affinity for trash shows like the Bachelor and has a vicious little cat he adores named Church. Magnus gives his own tidbits in return about his work at the university and his love of bad horror movies, laughing when Alec suggests their fiendish cats might just get along.
Magnus laughs just as they pull up outside of his father’s home, “Chairman doesn’t exactly play well with others.”
Alec shrugs. “Neither does Church, that’s why it’d be fun,” he says with a smile pulling his eyes away from Magnus looking up at the sprawling house before them. He slows the car to a stop pulling into a spot that makes the car perfectly visible from the wall of windows that line the living room where all the guests won’t be able to miss it.
“Damn,” Alec says as he steps out of the car, Magnus joins him where he’s leaning back against the front of his Thunderbird. His car looks amazingly out of place and perfectly hilarious parked between a silver Porsche and a sleek black Lamborghini. “Your father’s in real estate you said?”
“Amongst other things,” Magnus grumbles looking at the house that was always too big, that always felt hollow and empty to Magnus when they moved here after his mother skipped town.
“It’s way too big,” Alec says with a grimace looking it over one last time before offering his arm to Magnus. Magnus takes it guiding him to the front door. “And there’s way too many fucking windows.”
Magnus chuckles as they reach the door opening it automatically and walking in. The space is gaudier than the last time he was there, the walls where once his father and stepmother number four’s portraits used to hang now feature the latest wife and sadly the one of him that his father had commissioned years ago. It’s the last time he’d agreed to sit for one of his gaudy paintings, he’s young, barely 20 wearing a stiff suit and barely any makeup, he doesn’t look like him at all.
“Well that’s a painting,” Alec says looking at it. “I like this you better,” he says eyeing Magnus up and down. Whether he meant to or not there’s a lingering in the look, Magnus likes it. “That looks like somebody trying to be something they’re not.”
And just like that with one look at a painting, Alec nails him right on the head. Like he can read Magnus easily, a thing that just about no one can do.
“Come on,” Magnus says pulling Alec along down the garish hallway that leads to the large expanse of the living room. There’s a new chandelier hanging in the hall, riddled in way too many gems. He bets it’s a feature added by the new wife.
“Maggie!” a woman’s voice yells, speak of the devil, he rolls his eyes at the nickname no matter how many times he’s told her to drop it she just won’t. “Happy Thanksgiving!”
His stepmother comes bouncing over their way, her ridiculously high heels clacking against the hardwood floor. He can hear his father sigh from the other side of the room, more concerned with his precious oak floors than anything else in the world.
Magnus braces himself as she barrels into him hugging him tight, she releases him with a smile before turning to Alec and doing the same.
Alec’s eyes go wide in surprise, no matter how much Magnus described her to him there’s no preparing for hurricane Marissa. She pulls back adjusting her very not appropriate for the setting tight pink and black strapless dress with a smile, her fake tan looks a little lighter than usual and he’s weirdly proud of her for that.
“And who is this?” she asks reaching out to adjust Magnus’ shirt collar that she crumpled when hugging him.
“This is my boyfriend, Alec,” he says gesturing his way. “Alec this is my father’s wife, Marissa.”
Marissa playfully pats Magnus’ cheek, “Stepmother.” She says it pointedly holding out a hand to quickly shake Alec’s. He will never refer to her as his stepmother out loud, much like the past four wives Magnus bets Marissa will be gone in five years’ time tops, his own mother hadn’t even stuck around that long. Also, she’s 25, five years younger than him, and there’s no way he’s referring to her as anything remotely close to a mother.
“It’s lovely to have you in our home,” Marissa says to Alec gesturing to the room at large. Magnus looks around at the room full of people, most of whom he doesn’t remotely recognize. A few seem somewhat familiar in the most unmemorable sense. He’s sure they’re constant clients and rich cohorts of his father’s that have attended before.
“That it is,” his father’s voice says coming up behind his wife. He rests one hand on her shoulder and holds out another Alec’s way. “Asmodeus Bane.”
“Alec Lightwood,” he says a perfect gentleman returning his father’s handshake. They’d agreed to keep it civil for at the least the first introduction and then let the evening escalate from there. Magnus can tell just from looking at it his father’s grip is tight, commanding and borderline threatening, but Alec doesn’t even flinch.
“Lightwood, hm?” his father says eyeing Alec up and down frowning and Magnus can tell he already disapproves of what he sees. “Any relation to the Lightwood Consulting company?”
“Yes,” Alec says and Magnus smiles when he sees his father’s lips uptick in an impressed smile that immediately falls at Alec’s next words. “But they cut me out and off years ago, I’m the black sheep of the family if you will.”
Asmodeus just hums disappointed. “Well, that’s a shame,” he says. “So, how did you meet my son?” he asks not bothering with anymore small talk now that he’s already decided Alec’s no good, just jumping right in to the things he can criticize.
“Prison,” Alec jokes and Marissa titters delightfully. She quickly stops when Asmodeus looks at her disappointedly. “Just kidding,” he says. “I did my time there years ago, no we met at a bar.”
Asmodeus bristles at the prison mention, which is technically a lie, Alec only spent a few hours in a cell back when he was arrested, but his father clearly buys it as more. Magnus can tell he’s tuning out the rest of their crafted meet cute story, all about how three months ago Alec had a few too many drinks and almost got into a fight and Magnus had been his stalwart knight in shining armor.
“Love at first sight,” Marissa sighs clearly enjoying their made up tale. “Isn’t it sweet, Asmody?” she coos tugging on his father’s arm.
“Yes, quite sweet,” Asmodeus grimaces gripping his wife’s arm and pulling her away. “We’ll talk later.” He says looking directly at Magnus, essentially and completely dismissing Alec’s presence all together before stepping away. Marissa grins wide waving at them as she goes her long pink acrylic nails clicking together as she does so. Marissa may not be the brightest or subtlest bulb, but at least unlike many of Asmodeus’ past wives she’s nice enough.
“Well damn, do I even need to do anything else? He seems disappointed enough already,” Alec says shaking his head in disbelief.
“Now, where would the fun in that be,” Magnus says with a smirk, shrugging off his jacket. Alec follows suit and Magnus admires the view of his arms in a short sleeved well-fitting white button up shirt. His love of archery has made for some nicely toned muscle.
***
They mingle for a bit after Magnus deposits their coats in one of the coat closets, Magnus putting on his best son of the year smile while Alec downs glasses of water that everyone thinks is vodka at a fairly speedy rate.
It’d been his first task when they’d rejoined the party walking over to the bar with a smile.
“I need you to fill a bottle or two of vodka with water and keep serving me all night,” he said to the bored and disgruntled looking woman behind the counter. The rest of the hired help for the night must have been sequestered away in the kitchen until dinner judging by her being the first one that Magnus had spotted.
“You planning something weird tonight?” she questioned sliding Magnus a glass of red wine.
“Not weird, just disruptive,” Alec said so kind and so believable that the girl perked up.
“Well I love to see rich people who call me barkeep unironically disrupted, so you got it,” she said with a smile discreetly pouring out a bottle and refilling it with water before handing a glass to Alec as he dumped a sizeable wad of cash into her completely empty tip jar. God, rich people were cheap.
She’s been steadily serving him since.
Now they find themselves with a man who has to be bordering on 200 years old and it seems Alec decides it’s time to truly get to work.
“All that glitters,” the old man says talking about something that they’ve clearly both been tuning out.
“Glitters?” Alec says a little too loud, just enough so that everyone in their vicinity can hear. “You mean the place on 5th? My ex used to dance there, maybe you saw him, man knew how to work a pole if you know what I mean?” he winks at the old man and Magnus just barely stifles his laughter as the old man steps back in shock. He mumbles something unintelligible looking suddenly ill and paler than he had before and slips away.
Alec tosses back his drink and hands it to a passing woman in a truly hideous pantsuit that is definitely not a server, dragging Magnus along to the table of appetizers. He tosses shrimp into his mouth not bothering with a napkin, rubbing his hands on his ripped-up jeans making direct eye contact with a young woman, no doubt another trophy wife, as he does so. She scrunches up her nose and steps away.
Evidently despite his fairly small work so far he’s made just enough of a scene to garner Asmodeus’ attention once again.
“So, Alec, I assume that colorful vehicle outside is yours?” he says walking up beside the two of them. Their bartender and conspirator comes up just then handing Alec a fresh glass.
Alec smiles at her, before turning to Asmodeus. He’s not acting drunk yet, but he’s bordering on behaving tipsy.
He slings an arm over Magnus’ shoulder and brings him in close. Magnus settles a hand at Alec’s waste enjoying the proximity.
“Yes, that is my sweet Cherry,” he says naming the car on the spot. “Won her in a poker game when I was 18, crashed her three days later and have been patching her back together ever since.”
“A poker game?” Asmodeus questions, clearly becoming more disappointed by the minute.
“Yup,” he says cheerfully popping the p in the word. “Well, I wouldn’t say won directly, more cheated a guy and then fought him for it,” he pauses gesturing to the little sliced scar that runs through his left eyebrow. “That’s how I got this.”
“You wouldn’t believe how many tire irons a high school principal is carrying around,” Alec continues with a snort tossing back half of his drink.
Magnus just nods along in agreement to Alec’s concocted tale. He actually bought the car from his sister’s ex-boyfriend when he was nineteen for 200 bucks, but this story shocks far more.
“You mean to say you fought your principal for your car?” Asmodeus says judgement so very clear in his voice.
“High school, am I right?” Alec shrugs with a chuckle smiling down into his drink. Asmodeus looks appalled.
“Oh, come on don’t look like that father,” Magnus says placing his free hand on Alec’s chest and patting there lightly. Magnus can’t help but notice how solid the chest under his hand is. “I got up to some trouble in high school myself, surely you remember.”
Asmodeus just hums, clearly finding Magnus’ occasional wild parties without permission a dull comparison to the tale Alec just told.
“Never forget the time I streaked and jumped from the guest house roof to the trampoline and right into the pool, nearly broke my arm in the process,” Magnus says with a smile. Alec leans over burying his face in Magnus’ hair, careful not to mess it up, whether it’s to play up the PDA or stifle a laugh Magnus isn’t sure.
They’d had a whole conversation about PDA, Alec promising to respect his boundaries, no kissing and never a hand wandering beneath his waist.
“How could I forget,” Asmodeus says sharply embarrassed by his son’s antics. He turns towards the large windows and looks out to where the porch patio lights illuminate Alec’s car.
“It is so sexy that you did that,” Alec says ignoring Asmodeus and turning towards Magnus. He downs the rest of his drink and meet’s Magnus’ eyes, a question and idea brewing clear in them. Magnus smirks tugging at Alec’s shirt.
“You think so?” he says teasingly.
“Mm hmm,” Alec says biting his lip and Magnus knows this is all a part of the show, but god are those lips tempting.
Magnus catches Asmodeus turning his attention back to them looking outright furious. Magnus pulls away from Alec’s eyes and smiles a bright smile like they’re doing absolutely nothing wrong.
“I’m gonna give Alec the tour,” he says leadingly pulling Alec along by both hands and rushing away from the living room and down the hall before Asmodeus can say a word. He can see Alec’s smirk as he notices the stares of the other guests in the room.
Magnus doesn’t even pay attention to where they’re going as he pulls them into a room just off the right side of the hall.
“How’d you actually get that scar?” Magnus asks once they’re inside shutting the door behind him, no doubt convincing everyone they’re about to get down and dirty.
“Took a hockey stick to the face when I was 17,” he says pulling himself to sit up on a desk. A desk that Magnus now recognizes as his fathers. They’ve pulled themselves into his father’s office and if they get caught in here he’ll never hear the end of it, he loves it.
“You played hockey?” Magnus asks lifting himself up to sit beside Alec on the desk ignoring the papers he accidentally topples to the ground.
Alec nods in the affirmative. “I did, that’s why it’s the only sport I can start heckling fights about, everything else is boring.”
Magnus snorts at that, he’s never been partial to any sport himself.
“Did you really do what you said out there?” Alec asks picking up a notepad and flipping through it mindlessly.
“I did,” Magnus smiles and Alec’s eyebrows both go up. “Don’t look so surprised, you’re not the only one capable of mischief.”
“Oh, I see that,” he says with a smile tossing the notepad back to where he found it. “That is kinda sexy you achieved a jump like that and didn’t get hurt.” He says it with his voice low and all sorts of New York around the edges. He freezes his hand stopping over the spot where he’d been about to pick up the ugly green and bronze sphere shaped paper weight beside him.
Magnus freezes too, Alec saying something like that while they’re alone makes it real, not like the fake flirty way he’d said it out in the living room.
“Sorry, that’s not, I’m sorry, I never cross that line when I do these things, we’re alone and,” Alec runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”
Magnus shakes his head reaching out and tentatively laying his hand atop Alec’s where it rests on the desk between them.
“It’s okay,” he says and Alec looks at him ready to argue the point. Magnus jumps in stopping him before he can say a word and taking his own leap into making this far more real than fake. “Really, it’s okay. You, uh, you’re not so bad yourself.”
Alec huffs a laugh opening and closing his mouth a few times like he’s looking for the right words to say. The space between them feels a little charged now that they’ve floated out the simple fact there’s a real attraction here. Alec closes his mouth and bites his lip looking determined like he knows what to say finally when the door busts open.
“Oh, my apologies boys,” Marissa says standing in the doorway her hands on her hips and a pleased little smile on her lips. “But dinner is served.”
Magnus and Alec pull away from one another quickly hopping off the desk and stepping towards the door.
“You two are just too cute,” Marissa says when they reach her. She loops each of her arms through one of theirs and tugs them down the hall happily. “Don’t listen to a word your father says.”
Magnus meets Alec’s eyes over her head only to find Alec already looking at him, a soft smile on his lips.
***
Magnus takes his proverbial spot on his father’s right at the head of the table, Marissa doing the same on his left. Despite Asmodeus’ clear attempt to keep Alec as far away from him and Magnus as possible by seating him at the far end of the long table he fails. Luckily one of Marissa’s friends, just as airy and tight dressed as her is seated next to Magnus and happily swaps spots with Alec.
Alec lifts his drink to Asmodeus in a faux toast that Asmodeus doesn’t even feign interest in as he takes his seat.
Dinner is served and it’s to be expected. The sweet potatoes are divine none of that weird marshmallow bullshit in them, the mac and cheese is literally to die for and the homemade bread hits in just the right way. The turkey is terrible, but that’s not at the fault of the overpriced chef that’s just simply because it’s an indisputable fact that turkey tastes like napkins.
Alec eats so much Magnus is concerned, he can tell from the tight fit of his shirt that Alec is in impeccable shape so he doesn’t really know where he puts it all as he goes for his fourth serving of mac and cheese.
But long before his fourth serving of cheesy goodness Alec starts up at least three debates that would be deemed far too impolite for their supposed polite company. Each fresh serving he corners someone new into a debate; first it’s an old lady in a pantsuit pulled into a debate about the existence of god, then a forty something who looks like he’s never seen a rainbow without feeling threatened into a talk on the merits of teaching queer history to children and finally a woman who can’t be much older than them who looks like her name is Tinsley or Ainsleigh or something equally as nauseating into a tense bordering on yelling match about the importance of safe abortion access.
He sounds a little more drunk with every conversation and he’s damn good at faking it. He sounds just the right amount of inebriated not slurring his words too much or fumbling around with his silverware, it’s practiced, a master class in being drunk without being drunk. Most people overplay it acting far more outlandish than a drunk person sitting at a table would, but Alec has it down pact.
Magnus watches him not a care in the world, acting like he doesn’t even notice the disruption Alec is causing. The only person aside from Magnus that doesn’t look increasingly more uncomfortable by the minute is Marissa who looks like she’s having the time of her life watching these stuffy rich people squirm.
Asmodeus of course does not look delighted, he barely eats, just scowls over the rim of his wine glass and attempts to deflect any conversation Alec purposely instigates another way unsuccessfully.
The only time he seems to look like he’s not about to have a coronary is when everyone’s plates are finally collected, Alec still shoveling the last bit of mashed potatoes on his plate into his mouth as one of the waiters lifts the plate away from him, and it’s announced that dinner and coffee will be served in the living room.
Alec stands stretching his arms up over his head and Magnus admires the ripple of his muscles as he does so before standing beside him. Alec reaches over the table picking up yet another glass of water and tossing it back with a loud unnecessary thirst quenched sound before holding out his hand to Magnus. Magnus takes it instantly with a smile following along as they head for the living room once again.
***
A waiter takes their dessert requests, a choice of six different types of pie as they file out of the large dining room.
Magnus selects the pumpkin pie, while Alec chooses the chocolate pecan.
“Pecan, gross,” Magnus says as they work their way over to one side of the room a little bit away from everyone else to have just a moment of reprieve.
“How dare you, pecan pie is delicious,” Alec says sounding outright offended.
Magnus rolls his eyes and crosses his arms making a face that screams Alec is insane to have that opinion.
“It’s all sugar, no substance,” Magnus says. He really shouldn’t be surprised Alec’s favorite pie is one as ridiculously sugar based as pecan considering the amount of sugar he witnessed him dump into his coffee a few days prior. Alec doesn’t even deign him with a response, he just gives him another affronted look like Magnus has insulted his entire being, not a pie.
Moments later a waiter hands them each their requested pies. Alec takes a bite of his pointedly making eye contact with Magnus as he does so and making a pleased obnoxious yum sound. Magnus just rolls his eyes again, amused as he takes a bite of his own pie.
“So, are you enjoying yourself so far this evening?” Magnus asks after a few minutes of companionable silence.
Alec pauses grabbing a coffee from a passing tray and taking a sip, he grimaces a bit at the black coffee before answering Magnus’ question. Out of the corner of his eye Magnus sees his father watching them, almost looking excited to see Alec drinking a coffee, probably hoping it will sober him up.
“Well, your father is kind of terrible, and all these people are exhausting,” he says gesturing with his fork to the room at large after he sits his coffee on the floor next to him. “But despite the fact she may be a little air headed Marissa is lovely and I get a kick out of making rich people as uncomfortable as possible, so it’s been a pretty good night thus far.”
He pauses taking a bite of his pie and looking at Magnus from underneath his thick dark lashes. “Plus, you know, you’re pretty good company as well,” he says tapping his fork to his lips.
Magnus slow blinks at him and smiles.
“You’re pretty good company as well, especially when you’re just being you, like right now, not the overstated bad boy, even if he is a good time,” Magnus says. He reaches out his empty fork and boops Alec on the nose with it, just because. Alec scrunches up his face adorably at the action.
“Well I like you being you too, though it’s kind of fun you’re playing into my whole act, most people just play the none the wiser partner,” Alec says before leaning down and drinking another glug of his coffee. He makes the same cute displeased face again as he swallows.
“Really? No one’s made it seem like you’ve turned them into a crazy bad boy too?” Magnus says surprised. He’s been having a pretty good time being a little more instigative around his father than he usually would be.
Alec shakes his head. “Not really, Dot tackling her family members was a bit of an outlier, and honestly they’re almost never guys.”
“So I’m your first fake boyfriend then, huh?” Magnus says oddly flattered about the possibility.
“Second actually, but still most of the time I get hired by women, there’s a comfort in knowing that your fake date won’t try to make a move,” Alec says taking the last bite of his sickeningly sweet pecan pie.
“I guess I didn’t have a problem with that prospect,” Magnus says smiling around his fork looking right into Alec’s pretty hazel eyes, all dark rimmed and intent on him.
“I guess you didn’t,” he says with a smile putting his empty plate and mug on a passing tray and leaning back comfortably.
Magnus joins him leaning over by one of the sprawling windows casually finishing off his pie looking up to see one of his father’s political friends, a 30 something councilman of some sort, staring at them nearby. Alec, the little devil, winks at him slow and seductive. The councilman bristles and his wife beside him gives Alec an evil stare.
Magnus laughs a little, thinking that’s it for that interaction when suddenly the click of heels approaches them.
“Did you just wink at my husband?” the woman all but screams at Alec causing him to jump up from his slouch against the windows. Her head shakes as she speaks, her clip-on earrings wobbling.
“I,” Alec starts, but she doesn’t let him get in a word before she’s tossing her glass of white wine right at him.
“Oh, shit,” he says surprised and laughing a bit as he scrubs at his face his already messy eyeliner getting even messier in the process.
“Listen, lady I had no intention, your husband was the one staring,” he shouts back sounding a little more drunk than he did at the dinner table, they weren’t planning on Alec picking a fight tonight, but it seems he’s rolling with the one presented to him.
“Why you little, you little-“ she basically shrieks her husband pulling at her arm trying to stop her from taking this any further. Magnus steps in in front of Alec, a stern look of shutting shit down that he learned from his father on his face.
“You will want to watch your next words very carefully, wouldn’t want your husband’s constituents hearing any bigoted language coming from his already,” Magnus pauses surveying her bejeweled dress that looks like she’s going to a bad 80’s themed prom. “Tacky wife.”
She looks angrier at that, but Magnus’ stern look seems to usher her away, allowing her husband to pull her from the room.
The room is dead silent all eyes on them.
“Alright,” Asmodeus’ voice booms, everyone turning his way. “Show’s over, nightcaps will be served by the barkeep in the library shortly why don’t you all head in there,” he says gesturing to the way of the library. He steps over to Magnus and Alec as does Marissa who instantly hands Alec a towel.
“She’s always been a stick in the mud with bad taste,” Marissa says showing her own dislike for the councilman’s wife. “You didn’t do a thing wrong.” She smiles at them both apologetically before linking her arm in Alec’s and pulling him the way of everyone else. Magnus moves to follow, but is stopped by a hand on his chest from Asmodeus.
“We need to talk,” he says leaving no room for argument. Alec looks back at him from where Marissa is still chattering happily to him, a clear question of if he needs to cause a scene to stay with Magnus in his eyes. Magnus waves him on, watching as they go.
He barely waits until Alec and Marissa are out of ear shot to start in on Magnus.
“I know he’s faking it,” Asmodeus says and that is not what Magnus was expecting. He plays dumb though raising his eyebrows in question.
“Don’t act like you don’t what I’m talking about, I’d venture to say from the looks you two share you know all about it as well. You just brought him here and put on this whole show to embarrass me,” Asmodeus continues with a disappointed sigh. “That man hasn’t had a drop of liquor tonight, every action he’s taken hasn’t been some alcohol fueled mistake it’s been purposeful. He’s probably the most sober person here tonight. As far as I’d guess aside from truly being the black sheep of his family name and that truly atrocious car nothing that’s happened here tonight has been real.”
And alright, yeah Magnus definitely wasn’t expecting this. He expected his father to rail on his choice of partner, to knock Alec’s character and behavior and maybe Magnus’ to boot as well. He didn’t expect him to know exactly what’s been going on all night.
“And before you ask how I figured it out, you really should have made sure your date kept better track of his finished glasses, after dinner he left one behind and it didn’t smell of the vodka we’ve all been convinced he’s been downing all night,” Asmodeus explains. “From there a quick search told me the name was at least true. His family really did cut him out judging from his complete disappearance from all events, not that I can blame them, anyone who behaves this atrociously without influence of alcohol just to play a game probably deserves to be cut off.”
Magnus huffs out an unamused laugh at the underlying implications of his statement.
“Is that a threat?” Magnus says steely eyed.
“It could be, if you don’t get him out of here right this instant and promise to never try anything even close to similar to this charade again,” Asmodeus says just as steely eyed and Magnus hates that he learned the look from him.
For a moment he considers just leaving, hightailing it out of there with Alec and not saying a single other word to his father, but he’s tired. He’s 30 and he’s been putting up with his father’s vague threats if he doesn’t play the good little son role since before he could talk practically and he’s just done.
“No, we won’t be leaving,” Magnus says holding his ground. “And as for this charade well I guess I can promise you nothing like this will ever happen again, because I’m done. I’m done playing some perfectly crafted son that I’m not, I’m done acting like we’re a happy little family, like you won’t get bored of poor, sweet Marissa in no time and there’ll be a new wife on your arm who you’ll pay just as little attention to.”
“You’re right, I did do this to embarrass you, to show those fucking fakes in there that you are the fakest amongst them, even more so than all of them combined. Alec may have been playing a role tonight, but he’s ten times more real than you could ever dream to be. Don’t worry about having to cut me off and making a whole big show of it, I haven’t needed you or your money in years,” Magnus says. He straightens out his shirt and stands with his head held high turning on his heel to join Alec in the library.
***
Magnus is frankly riding high on truly stepping up to his father for the first and likely last time in his life when he saunters into the library scanning around to find Alec. He spots him in the corner chatting with Marissa.
“There you are,” Alec says sounding genuinely concerned. Magnus just smiles at him hoping it looks more assuring than it feels.
Marissa reaches out patting him on the cheek lightly. “Don’t listen to whatever he said, he’s just jealous he’s not as outstanding as you,” she says with a smile.
Magnus is struck in that moment with how much his father doesn’t deserve her, she might be a lot to take sometimes, but she is a genuinely kind woman.
“Nor as outstanding as you,” Magnus says with a smile and she blushes at the compliment. He’s ready to follow that up by telling her that she should leave his father’s ass immediately before he gets the chance to toss her to the side, but someone calls out her name and she’s pulled away smiling at them as she goes.
“Ready for the grand finale?” Alec says as soon as Marissa steps away. The grand finale, right, Magnus and Alec had discussed giving one last show before they left for the night if they managed to make it all the way through dessert. And they have, everyone’s nursing nightcaps ready to exit for the evening, but clearly all lingering around to see if Alec does anything else embarrassing or outlandish before they go.
Mere moments ago Magnus was ready to just storm out of here with Alec at his side and maybe ask Alec if he fancied going on a real date for a late-night drink somewhere.
But now with his father storming into the room after him, glaring and judging, looking quite possibly the most upset he’s ever been with Magnus he can’t seem to find a reason to go just yet.
“Let’s do it,” he says and Alec smiles tossing back his water and acting as if there’s a nice vodka burn to it. He grabs a discarded fork from a table nearby and taps it on his now empty glass so hard that it chips just a bit earning everyone’s attention.
“Could I have everyone’s attention please,” he says sounding a little bit like he’s sobered up after the near fight with the councilman’s wife. Most of the room looks their way eagerly like they can’t wait to see what happens next, while a few others apprehensively turn their attention.
“I met this stunning man not all that long ago,” he says laying his hands lightly on Magnus’ shoulders. “But in that short time, I have realized that undisputedly there will never be another for me. From the moment we hooked up in the back of Cherry the night we met,” he says not elaborating at all on that sentence, earning the shocked gasps and confused looks of many. Marissa giggles, Asmodeus seethes not loving this new addition to their fake meet cute story even if he knows it’s all a ruse now. “I knew you were the one, so, Magnus Bane,” he continues on getting down on one knee he pulls the plain silver ring he’s been wearing all night on his middle finger off and presents it to Magnus. “Will you marry me?”
Magnus pretends to be shocked covering his mouth with a gasp. His eyes flit up to where his father stands, looking like he’s about to make some move to physically stop Magnus from answering Alec’s question, like he won’t survive the embarrassment of this room full of people knowing his sons engaged to a degenerate in messed up jeans even if he knows it’s not real. Magnus doesn’t give him the chance immediately looking down at Alec with glassy eyes.
“Yes, Alexander, yes,” he says no longer hiding his amused grin as Alec slips the ring on his finger and lifts up from the ground pulling Magnus into a crushing hug. The room claps tentatively, enthusiastically in Marissa’s case who it seems does not care how insane something is she just loves love. How she ever ended up married to his father, who only truly loves himself, his hardwood floors and his hair is a continual mystery.
“Wanna get the fuck out of here?” Magnus mumbles into Alec’s ear. Alec pulls back from their hug and nods enthusiastically.
“Do I have your permission to bridal carry you out of here?” Alec says lowly ensuring no one can hear him.
“Oh, hell yes,” Magnus says delightedly as Alec lifts him up and makes for the door.
“We’re gonna go celebrate in the back of Cherry again,” Alec announces proudly to the room as he goes. Magnus pats him on the shoulder guiding him to the coat closet where he quickly grabs their jackets, Alec never losing his grip on him.
Asmodeus shouts after them as they head out the door, Alec pausing at his car and planting Magnus down on the ground gently. He tugs at the door three times before it opens gesturing for Magnus to get in as he ignores his father’s bellowing shouts. Alec playfully salutes Asmodeus and slides over the hood of his car bumping into the Porsche beside him setting off it’s car alarm as he lands and slips into the driver’s seat quickly.
He starts the engine peeling out of the space just as Asmodeus reaches the front of the car. Magnus just blatantly ignores him only catching sight of Marissa standing in the door waving their way as they drive off.
***
The ride back is quiet for the first twenty minutes or so, music playing softly as Alec drives drumming his fingers along the steering wheel to the beat.
“My dad figured out you were faking it,” Magnus says with no preamble looking out the window as they go. The roads are mostly empty now people celebrating the holiday into the late hours with their families before waking up at 5 a.m. to Black Friday shop.
“Shit, there goes my Oscar,” Alec says eyes flashing to Magnus quickly with a laugh before focusing back on the road. Magnus chuckles in response.
“Well, it’s an honor just to be nominated,” Magnus smiles tilting his head towards Alec.
Alec snorts a little laugh then turns his head quickly to Magnus once again.
“Did your dad give you a lot of trouble about it?”
“He did, I don’t think I’ll be getting a Christmas invite after I railed back at him,” Magnus says. “But it’s okay. I think it was just a long time coming, bound to happen. Better to get it over with now before I wasted more years trying to seem like I’m something I’m not just to please him.”
Alec comes to a stop at a red light and turns his attention fully to Magnus.
“Are you okay? I mean shitty or not, having a parent cut ties isn’t easy, trust me I know,” he says. Magnus watches him enjoying the way the red of the stoplight cuts through his dark hair.
Magnus takes a deep breath and gives Alec a small assuring smile.
“I will be,” he says, truly meaning it. The fallout with his father is a lot, but he will be okay. He’s lived without his father being truly present in any form since the day his mother walked out on them, this new world where he’s likely all cut off isn’t anything new really. He’ll manage, hell he might even thrive without the chains of his father’s expectations weighing on him now.
The light turns green and they lapse back into comfortable silence for the rest of the ride, Magnus completely endeared as he listens to Alec mumbling the lyrics to every other song that comes on the radio under his breath.
When they pull up to the curb outside of Magnus’ house Alec steps out first ever the gentleman helping Magnus with the finicky passenger side door.
He holds out a hand helping Magnus out and smiles when he drops it shutting the door tight.
“Well, thank you for the free meal and the fun night of mischief,” Alec says leaning back against his Thunderbird. His eyeliner is a mess and there’s a faint dried spot along his white shirt stained from the wine incident, he looks beautiful under this streetlight and Magnus wants more night like this. Well maybe not exactly like this one, it’s been a bit of rollercoaster for him emotionally, but nights with Alec all the same.
“Go out with me,” he says not even framing it as a question. He knows Alec is interested too has seen it in the moments where he was just being himself and the appreciative glances he’s given Magnus all night that clearly weren’t just a part of the show he was putting on. And that doesn’t even cover their coffee the other day, the easy way they’d talked and just clicked right off the bat.
“For real, not a fake date or a bad boyfriend show, a real date,” Magnus clarifies when he notices Alec’s surprise.
“I’d like that a lot,” Alec says pushing off the car. He steps a little closer to Magnus leaving just a bit of distance for Magnus to clear if he wants. Magnus does want so he steps up not quite touching Alec, but close enough all he’d have to do is raise a hand. It feels almost like when they were in his father’s office tonight, but even better because they’re alone for real now, there’s no show and no chance of interruptions.
“I need the record to show that I literally never do this, not once, I haven’t even been interested, let alone made any sort of action to make something real out of one of these fake dates,” Alec says low and sincere keeping his eyes on Magnus’ the entire time making sure the words are clear. “You are entirely the exception.”
“Entirely exceptional, actually,” he adds on with a smile. Magnus smiles reaching out his hands to rest on Alec’s chest.
“So are you,” he says patting his hands twice where they rest. “And I believe you aren’t just doing this to pick up hot guys, no worries.” He says with a chuckle and Alec rolls his eyes.
“What are you doing tomorrow night?” Alec asks.
“Nothing, no classes until next Tuesday and most of my friends are out of town for family dinners and what not. I’m as free as a bird,” he says blinking his eyes just a bit flirtatiously at Alec.
“Good, we should get dinner, no family, no bullshit, just us,” Alec says tentatively resting his hands on Magnus’ waist.
“I like the sound of that,” Magnus says lifting up to kiss Alec on the cheek softly just once before pulling back.
“I’ll text you with a time and place in the morning,” he says slowly stepping backwards holding Alec’s steady gaze as he goes. He turns just for a moment putting his key’s in the door and pushing it open before turning back. “Goodnight, Alexander.” He says and watches as Alec smiles a dazzling smile before rounding the car and opening the driver’s side door.
“Goodnight, Magnus,” he says before slipping into his car. Magnus watches with a smile as he pulls away from the curb, his bright red ridiculous Thunderbird speeding away. The smile doesn’t leave his face as he makes his way all the way up to his apartment, so much so that he’s pretty sure his cat is judging him all the way to bed.
***
One Year Later
Magnus’ phone buzzes insistently his ringtone blaring on the nightstand.
“Stop that,” he says weakly reaching out an arm to silence it, his hand falling to the nightstand and coming up empty once, twice, three times while it continues to ring. It’s far too loud and far too early on a holiday with no responsibilities for this.
A chuckle comes from above him and warmth reaches over brushing his fingers before gripping the phone and pulling back.
“Magnus Bane’s phone,” Alec answers his voice a little lower and rougher than usual from sleep. It’s a very nice sound. Magnus can’t hear who’s on the other end of the line, but when he flips over he sees Alec smile and perk up a bit leaning back against the headboard.
“Yeah it is Alec, it’s good to know you remember me, Marissa,” he says and Magnus raises an eyebrow he’s only heard from his father’s wife once since last Thanksgiving, an apologetic text on his father’s behalf. His father on the other hand hasn’t so much as sent a sternly worded email in that time.
“Yeah, he’s here, hold on sec,” Alec says, he lowers the phone offering it to Magnus who grumbles a bit lifting himself up and leaning against the headboard next to Alec.
“Hi, Marissa,” he says clearing his throat a bit.
“Magnus!” she shouts into his ear and he jumps back a bit, from the both the volume and from shock hearing that she’s finally dropped her terrible nickname for him. “I was glad to hear Alec answer the phone, I knew you two were a good match, even if it was all a show that night.”
“Ah,” Magnus says. “So father told you.”
“He did, but it doesn’t change that you two are the cutest,” she says. “Which speaking of your father,” she starts and Magnus is ready to shoot down any attempt at reuniting she’s trying to pull here. Marissa is a nice woman, but his father’s silence in the past year has spoken volumes, he’s not playing into a reconciliation he can’t even make the call for.
“I left him,” she says finishing her sentence. Magnus huffs out a little surprised laugh that Alec raises an eyebrow at, well good for her. “About a month ago and I know it’s incredibly short notice and you might have other plans, but I’m having a little Thanksgiving dinner of my own with a few friends this year and I’d love to see you. And Alec too, of course!”
Magnus smiles, they’d had a Friendsgiving slash one year anniversary celebration over the weekend with Raphael, Cat, Dot, Ragnor and Alec’s siblings, tonight’s plans were likely going to consist of Chinese takeout on the couch and making out. And while Marissa can be a lot she was always kind, and he can’t help but recall how supportive she’d been that night a year ago. He can’t find it in himself to turn down her offer because of it.
“We’d love to,” he says and Alec looks at him again in question. Magnus just waves a hand signaling he wait a moment for explanation. On the other end of the line Marissa claps excitedly.
“Yay!” she says. “I’ll text you my address, I’m in the city now so Alec might have to leave Cherry at home.”
Magnus laughs. “Oh, he might bring her anyways.”
He chats idly with Marissa for a few more minutes before disconnecting and promising they’ll be on much better behavior this year for dinner.
“Marissa left my father,” Magnus says as soon as he’s hung up and tossed his phone back on the nightstand. Alec smiles looking just as oddly proud for her as Magnus feels. “And we’re having Thanksgiving with her and some friends tonight.”
“Good for her,” he says flipping back the covers and getting out of bed. “Should I get out the eyeliner and torn up jeans for tonight just for old times’ sake, or no?”
He smirks standing gloriously naked in front of the dresser rustling through one of his drawers. His drawers. Magnus isn’t quite used to the lovely novelty of the fact that Alec lives with him now. It’s been about two months since they made it official and just seeing one of Alec’s crappy romance novels on the coffee table or his shitty leather jacket hanging in its permanent space in their closest still makes him feel all sorts of tingly.
Magnus hums in thought rising up from bed and moving to lean against the dresser beside Alec. He’d pay good money to get Alec to wear eyeliner more often frankly.
“I think you should bring both of those things out as often as you’d like,” he says reaching out a hand and cupping Alec’s cheek turning it towards him. The feel of Alec’s soft, shaven skin is something he also isn’t quite used to. For the first time in their year together he’d shaved off his beard entirely, completely out of the blue and for no other reason than he’d had a day off and was bored. He’s as handsome as ever, but Magnus had quite literally had to do a double take when he came home and saw Alec sitting on the couch.
“Do try and leave the illustrious tales of our sexual escapades at home this time though, darling,” he says with a smile. He’s mostly joking, but now that their sexual escapades are real and not fictionalized he’d like to keep them just between them.
“Damn, well there goes all my dinner conversation topics,” Alec says with a wicked little smile.
“Menace,” Magnus says as he slides his hand down from Alec’s face to his chest with a shake of his head.
Magnus runs his fingers lightly through the hair on Alec’s chest stopping to rest on the stark black tattoo on his lower abdomen. And boy hadn’t it been a blissful discovery to see that ink when he finally got Alec’s shirt off for the first time. He trails his fingers over the shape of it lightly, knowing exactly what he’s doing.
“If you keep doing that we’ll never leave this room,” Alec says his lips tilting up in a little pleased smirk.
“Doing what?” Magnus says innocently still moving his fingers over the shape of the tattoo lightly.
“And you say I’m the menace,” Alec says leaning in to kiss him on the lips once hard and bruising. “We need to shower.” He says stepping away from Magnus. Magnus’s hand falls and he pouts laying it on a bit thick. Alec pointedly attempts to ignore it.
“Together?” Magnus says with a hopeful smile.
Alec rolls his eyes. “I feel like despite having literal hours to get ready we’ll end up late somehow if we do,” he says eyeing Magnus’ bare form appreciatively. “But there’s no way I can say no to that.”
Magnus smirks pushing himself off the dresser and right up against Alec.
“Damn straight,” he says before leaning in to lay a teasing, promising kiss on his lips.
“There is absolutely nothing straight about this,” Alec says with a toothy smile once he’s pulled back already tugging Magnus into the bathroom for their shower. Magnus laughs loud and bright as he’s dragged along.
***
Impossibly despite literal hours, Alec’s right, showering together does prolong the entire process of getting out of the apartment when showering becomes shower sex, which becomes another round on the bathroom counter which results in needing to shower again, separately this time much to both their dismays.
Eventually though, they’re dressed and ready. Magnus finishes up the last touches on his hair, adjusting the bright almost golden streak at the front of it which compliments the golden chained pattern of his shirt. He picks up the ring Alec fake proposed to him with last year and twists it onto his right-hand ringer finger with a smile. They obviously aren’t actually engaged, but increasingly lately Magnus finds himself thinking about making it real.
He gives himself one last once over in the mirror before stepping out of the bathroom to find Alec sitting cross legged on their bed and Magnus is nearly sent back in time to a year ago.
He’s wearing the jeans and boots just like he had that night, his eyeliner is in place a little less messy but still unpracticed and his hair is its usual tussled self. The shirt is almost the same, this time it’s one Magnus gave him with subtle lines of shiny black at the collar and cuffs, the little black loops in his ears are a gift from Magnus as well.
It’s a perfect combination of that first night when they were a fake couple out to cause mayhem and the couple they are now, a royal we couple that are so deep in love Magnus has to just take a few breaths in sometimes to remember this is all real.
“Ready to go?” Alec asks looking up at Magnus with a smile. Magnus nods as Alec stands throwing on his leather jacket with the hole in it he refuses to fix. Magnus follows suit grabbing his own jacket and following Alec out as he grabs his keys and wallet scratching the heads of both cats curled up on the back of the couch as he goes.
“We could take the subway you know?” Magnus says once they’re in the elevator, Alec twirling the keys to his Thunderbird around his finger.
Alec scrunches up his face adorably. “No way,” he says gesturing for Magnus to step out first when they reach the lobby. “Cherry helping us fight through Thanksgiving traffic is gonna be a lifelong tradition for us.”
Lifelong Magnus likes the sound of that, but he is dubious that Alec’s precious car will last anywhere near that long.
Alec rushes to the car parked proudly and loudly right in front of their building unlocking it and pulling four times on the passenger door before getting it open.
He smiles at Magnus gesturing with an overstated bow for him to get in and Magnus rolls his eyes but can’t seem to hide his smile and Alec knows it. He shuts the door once Magnus is in and in a move reminiscent of their escape from his father’s last year slides over the hood before slipping into his own seat and starting the car driving off to a much better Thanksgiving than the year before.
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It Was Enchanting To Meet You (Bruce Banner x Reader)
NOTE: Originally posted on my ao3, supposedly_archer, on August 15th, 2020. Both the summary and A/N are copied & pasted
Summary: The two Avengers are almost to the bottom of the staircase when you make eye contact with Bruce Banner. It lasted for what was maybe five seconds, but it felt like forever. His eyes were a beautiful brown. He was gorgeous. All of the other thoughts in your head left when you looked at him.
Based on the song Enchanted by Taylor Swift
A/N: There's totally not a Hamilton reference in here somewhere hahaha
Warnings: Fluff, alcohol, swearing
Word Count: 2,857
Female Reader
The venue for the Stark gala was gorgeous. High arching ceilings, elegant staircases, even the floors were beautiful. So why did you want to go home so badly?
You had positioned yourself near a wall, hoping to avoid as much interaction with other people as possible. If you were to clutch your wine glass any tighter, you were sure it would shatter in your hands. You took another small swallow of it.
You thought back to a month ago, where you sat on your friend, Chelsea’s, couch as an old movie played in the background. You were talking about work drama when she suddenly gasped loudly and dramatically. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!” She squealed. “How could I forget?”
You smile at her with your eyebrows raised. “What is it?”
She took a few deep breaths while smiling like a Cheshire cat. “Okay, so. My sister’s ex-boyfriend has a cousin whose wife works at a fancy building that’s like a venue, right? And, that’s where Tony Stark is hosting his annual gala, right?”
You nod, still smiling. “Right.” You didn’t pay much attention to the Avengers. Unless they were, of course, fighting aliens somewhere in the world. But, the Stark Gala was infamous. Everyone knew about it.
Chelsea continued. “To save a whole hour of storytelling, my sister’s ex-boyfriend’s cousin’s wife got us tickets to the gala.”
“No. Fucking. Way.” Your mouth hung open with your eyes wide as saucers.
“Yes. Fucking. Way.” She giggled at your reaction.
“Now, I know how much you hate parties, but I’ll be with you the whole time, and if you get too overwhelmed, I’ll help you find a secluded spot, got it?”
“Yeah! Holy shit, I- this is crazy!” You grab her by the shoulders and shake her, giggling hysterically.
She grabs your shoulders in response. “I know right; we’re gonna get to wear fancy dresses and pretend we’re rich people and part of the one percent!”
***
One month later, you both had bought fancy dresses that were way out of your budget and were probably never going to wear again.
The “going together and pretending you were rich” plan had fallen through the floors the day of the gala.
It had started in the morning when Chelsea called you. Picking up, she told you that she was having awful stomach pain.
“Could it be period cramps?” you had asked her.
“No, my period isn’t supposed to start for another two weeks. It hurts, worse than my regular cramps.”
“Maybe you’re pregnant and don’t know it,” you joked, trying to make her feel better.
“Har, har, har Y/N. Very funny.” You could hear her eye roll from the phone, she sighed and then groaned in pain. You winced. “I think I may have appendicitis.”
“That means we should get you to the ER; I’ll pick you up and drive you, alright?”
“Alright. But no matter what happens, you go to the gala. You absolutely cannot miss this, even if I’m lying dead in the hospital.”
You sighed. You weren’t going to argue with her about this, especially since you needed to get Chelsea to a hospital. “Alright. Fine.”
It turns out she did have appendicitis. Before they wheeled her off, she commanded you to go to the gala. “I know you can do it, Y/N. I’m not going to let my shitty luck keep you from finding true love.”
“But, what if something-”
“Go! Go get ready and have the time of your life. My sister will be here, and she’ll keep you updated. I love you.”
You sighed. Chelsea was so stubborn sometimes. “I love you, too.”
When you arrived at the venue, her sister called you telling you that she was okay. You thanked her and tucked your phone into the pocket of your dress. It blended into the dress, so you could easily carry it inconspicuously.
While you were busy recalling the events that had led to you hiding in a costly dress at a party you probably shouldn’t even be allowed to be at, you hadn’t realized you’d run out of wine. The glass had been offered to you by a waiter, and it was full when you grabbed it.
You were now freaking out about if you should put the old glass down, ask for a refill, or just hide in the bushes and cry. Your prayers were answered by a waiter who was walking past with a bottle of wine. “More wine, miss?” he asked you politely.
“Yes, please.” When he walked away, you heaved a deep sigh. At least that problem was solved. Though, you still felt way out of place. Watching everyone mingle and talk with their fancy outfits was unnerving. You barely knew how to start a conversation, and you doubted you would be able to with these types of people.
Are those people waltzing? You thought to yourself. They were! There seemed to be a small group of couples dancing around the room. I thought that only happened in movies! It was a sight to see. They all looked so elegant. You sighed, Chelsea would’ve loved this.
You turn your head to look at the stairs. You blinked. And blinked again. Holy shit. That’s Tony fucking Stark. You didn’t know why you were so shocked. Of course, he would be here. It was his goddamn gala.
Though you weren’t an Avengers fangirl, it was still exhilarating to see one of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. As you watched him walk down the stairs, you realized he was talking to another man. He looked to be around the same age as Tony Stark, and he looked familiar.
You mentally slapped yourself. It’s Bruce Banner, you moron! If someone had asked you who your favorite Avenger was, you probably would’ve said Doctor Banner. You didn’t know much about him, other than that he was the Hulk. But, he was cute, with the curly salt and pepper hair and glasses.
The two Avengers are almost to the bottom of the staircase when you make eye contact with Bruce Banner. It lasted for what was maybe five seconds, but it felt like forever. His eyes were a beautiful brown. He was gorgeous. All of the other thoughts in your head left when you looked at him.
When you both break eye contact, your face is heated. You gulp down more wine. Your thoughts were racing. You wanted to talk to him. You needed to talk to him. There was something about him that just immediately drew you to him. And you didn’t even know him! You could hear your friend in your head; it’s love at first sight! Talk to him!
You took a deep breath. It couldn’t be that hard to start a conversation. Right? Your hands were sweaty. Why were they so sweaty? You shouldn’t be this nervous to start a conversation. You take some more deep breaths. You knew if you didn’t talk to him tonight, you might regret this night for the rest of your days.
You look through the crowd and spot him again easily. He’s still with Tony Stark, though the both of them were closer to where you stood now. You watch them both for a moment. They seem just to be idly chatting; they now had wine glasses in their hand. You then see Tony clap Bruce on the shoulder and leave him, supposedly to talk to someone else. This was your chance.
You start to walk through the crowd. Bruce is still standing there, alone. He looks almost as uncomfortable as you feel. He’s staring at his shoes, and you get closer. You can easily see all of him now. You slow down a bit; you didn’t want to seem like a stalker or weirdo.
You’re right beside him now. You’re facing his side, and you turn to look at whatever he’s looking at now. “It’s a nice night tonight,” are the first words out of your mouth. You feel like you’re about to go into cardiac arrest.
Bruce turns to face you. He seems to be caught off guard by your statement. “Hm? Oh, yeah, it’s, um, it’s nice.” His voice is quiet, and he’s back to staring at his shoes.
What the fuck do I say now? Do I introduce myself? What do I do? “You’re Bruce Banner, right?” You scream in your head. Why did I say that?
“Uh, yep, that’s me.” He gives a nervous chuckle. “And you are?” he trails off, waiting for your answer.
“Y/N,” you say, quickly, turning to smile at him.
“Y/N, that’s a nice name.” Bruce returns your smile.
You feel your face heat up. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
You laugh softly, still smiling gently at him. He laughs nervously as well. “Do you attend these types of parties often?” you ask him.
Bruce sighs. “Yeah, Steve says it’s good publicity for us, and Tony can never turn away a chance to host a party, so I just kind of go with it.” He takes a sip of his wine. “If I’m honest, I’m not a huge fan of these types of gatherings.”
You smile at his exasperated face. “That makes two of us then. My friend got us both tickets, but she wasn’t able to make it, so I’m here. Alone.”
He gives you a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry.”
You shrug. “It’s fine. I think Chelsea would’ve wrung my neck if I hadn’t gone. She’s very dramatic that way.”
Bruce smiles again. He has a beautiful smile. “I think I know what it’s like to have a dramatic friend.”
You both laugh, “you know I saw a fountain inside a small garden when I got here, and I’ve wanted to check it out. Do you wanna come with?”
“Yeah, I would. I think I know where it is.”
“Really? Have you been here before?” You raise your eyebrows at him.
“Yeah. All of the Avengers were here last night. Steve got Thor to try and teach us all how to waltz.” He sighs and chuckles. “It did not go well.”
“So, I’m assuming you’re not a dancer?” You grin mischievously at him.
He grins back. Not a shy, slight smile. An actual grin. You could feel your heartbeat faster if that was even possible. “No. No, I’m not.”
“Well, I’ll have to keep that in mind.” You pause and look at Bruce. “Which way is the fountain?”
“Oh, uh, it’s this way.” He points to a door close to the stairs.
As you and Bruce make your way through the crowd, you fall into a comfortable silence, walking so close that your shoulders are almost brushing together.
When you get to the doors, he opens it for you. You feel your face heat up for what feels like the millionth time that night. “Thank you, Bruce.”
“You’re welcome.” You look around the garden and see a plethora of different flowers planted around a large stone fountain, along with shrubs surrounding the whole area.
“This is beautiful. So much better than the pictures.” You start walking to the fountain and sit on the edge. Bruce sits opposite of you.
“Yeah, the pictures don’t do this place justice.” He looks around before settling on your face. “What do you do for work?” He asks.
“I’m an x-ray technician at an ER.” He nods appreciatively. “It’s nothing too exciting unless you count trying to get a drunk man to lay still for more than two seconds as exciting.”
Bruce laughs at that. “I’d like that to be my definition of exciting.”
You grin at him. “Yeah, well, I think being an x-ray tech is a little below your paygrade. Though we almost always have a spot open for hiring, so if you ever decide being an Avenger gets boring, you’ll have a backup plan.”
He laughs again. His laugh sounds like music. “I may have to take you up on that sometime.” Bruce looks down at the water in the fountain. “What got you into that field?”
You let out a sigh. “That’s a long, long story.”
“Well, I have all night if you do.”
So, you launched into the story of how you got a job at an ER. Which then turned into a conversation about the way x-rays work and the science of radiology. Which then snowballed into a discussion about anything and everything.
Time didn’t seem like a concept as you talked with Bruce. It was like talking to someone you’d known your whole life. The conversation flowed so smoothly you never understood why you were so nervous about speaking to him in the first place.
Eventually, a notification from your phone pulls you out of your conversation. It’s from your friend, asking how your night is going and if you’ve found prince charming.
“It’s my friend.” Bruce nods, understanding. You quickly type out a “tell you later.” And put your phone back in your pocket. “Sorry. Where were we?”
He was about to respond when he was suddenly cut off by a booming voice. “Banner!”
Suddenly a tall, muscular man is standing in front of both of you. Oh my God, it’s Thor. “The team’s been looking for you everywhere! We thought that you had just gone home.”
He turns to you as if he’s just noticed you. “I wasn’t aware you were talking to a lady. I apologize for my rudeness and for not greeting you right away.” He holds his hand out to you. “Thor Odinson.”
“Y/N.” You put your hand out to shake it, but he shocks you by bringing it up to his lips and kissing it softly.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Y/N, I will allow you two to get back to your conversation.” And with that, Thor’s gone as quickly as he came.
“I’m sorry about him.” Bruce smiles sheepishly at you.
You laugh at the look on his face. “It’s fine; he seemed very nice.” Bruce nods in agreement.
“Do you know what time it is? I forgot to put my watch on before I left.”
“Uhm, yeah, hold on,” you reply, pulling out your phone. “Oh, wow, it’s almost midnight.”
Bruce raises his eyebrows. “Really? We must’ve been talking for a while, then.”
You nod in agreement. “Yeah, I guess we have.” You sit in silence for a moment. Bruce clears his throat.
“If they’re looking for me, that probably means I should, um, get going.”
“Right, right. I should probably get going as well.” There’s a pause. You stand up at the same time. “Do you want my number?” You say, probably too fast.
“What? Um, yeah, yes, I would, uh, I would love your number.” There’s another pause. “Do you have anything to write down with, I don’t have my phone on me,” he starts patting his pockets as you grip your phone tightly. “I have a pen; you can just write it on my hand if you’re good with that.”
“Yeah, yep! That’s perfect!” He hands you a ballpoint pen, and you grab it quickly and take off the cap. “Do you prefer what hand or arm-”
“Um, not really.” He holds out his left hand, partially pulling up the arm of his suit jacket and shirt, revealing part of his wrist. Grabbing his hand, you quickly write down your number, praying he doesn’t notice how sweaty or shaky your hands are.
You pull away, putting the cap back on the pen and handing it back to him. “There you go.”
“Thank you, Y/N.” He smiles at you softly, and you feel like you’re going to melt into the floor.
“You’re welcome.” You smile back at him. “I know you’re probably busy constantly saving the world,” he chuckles at that, “but maybe we could find some time to get coffee together?”
Bruce grins at you. “I would love to.”
You grin back. “It’s a date, then.” You lean close to him and kiss his cheek. “I hope to see you soon.” As you pull back, you see his face is bright red.
“I hope to see you soon, as well.” He’s almost stumbling over his words.
“Bye, Bruce.”
“Bye, Y/N.”
With that, you leave through the same doors you came through, and through the corner of your eye, you see Thor again, this time rushing at Bruce. You shake your head as you make your way out to catch a ride home.
***
Finally, inside your apartment, you let out a squeal of delight. You laugh and grin to yourself as you get ready for bed. You shoot a quick text to Chelsea, saying, “I THINK I MET PRINCE CHARMING” and lay down in your bed. You laugh again into your pillow, replaying the night you spent with Bruce over and over again till you fell asleep.
In the morning, you wake up to two text messages. One from Chelsea, saying, “Y/N YOU CANT JUST TEXT ME THAT AND NOT FUCKING ELABORATE. WTF.” And one from an unknown number. “How do you feel about coffee next Saturday at 11:00 am?”
#bruce banner#marvel#bruce banner x reader#bruce banner x you#bruce banner x y/n#bruce banner imagine#hulk#the avengers
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POV: Jeff the killer kidnapped you and is venting to you about his internalized homophobia
I COULDN’T THINK OF AN ACTUAL TITLE SO I WENT WITH THAT
Anyway hi this is a jeffxben fic told from jeff’s POV. a little bit angsty but mostly just cuddles and comfort. and one-liners. lots of one-liners. The ending is a lil messy and idk man I didn’t know how to finish the fic so- ignore that
Based on one of these story starters.
Word count: 1907
There are three things you need to know before you read this.
One; hi, I'm Jeff. Nice to meet ya.
Two; I killed my parents three and a half years ago. I know that's a lot to dump on you immediately but it'll be important later.
And three….I'm...gay. There. I said it. I like guys. I'm attracted to men. I want to kiss guys. Or specifically- one guy.
He has blonde hair, dark skin and bright blue eyes. And also pointed ears. He's a ghost, specifically one that's latched onto a Nintendo 3DS and a cartridge of Majora's Mask 3D. He looks like Link- but I'm not attracted to Link. Link is a twink and that's not my style.
His name is Ben and Ben? Ben is a bro. He's my bro. He's everyone's bro- he has that natural charisma that makes everyone like him. He's friendly, polite, funny and laid-back. He's always down to hang out with you or invite you into his room to play videogames. Everyone likes Ben. But me? I love Ben. As in- love love him. I want to kiss his goofy face. His lips probably taste like cheetos and beef jerky. Gross. I hate how much I think about how his lips would taste.
So now you're probably thinking "hey Jeff, why are you just vomiting your gay thoughts on me? Go tell him you love him."
But
There's
A
Problem.
My parents- the dead ones- were really homophobic. Being gay just wasn't something you did. And it still feels wrong to me- which is weird considering the fact that my new adoptive parents are two gay men and my foster siblings are mostly homosexuals. But it still feels wrong. No matter how much I'm exposed to it I still feel that slight guilt whenever I catch myself admiring Ben while he trash talks someone, and I want to punch myself whenever I wake up from a dream about cuddling him.
So that brings me to this situation.
Picture this, okay? I'm sitting on his bed with a controller in my hand. We're playing smash bros and having a great time. I'm having...not a good day. You remember the dead parents thing? The trauma I mentioned? Yeah that's been haunting me all fucking day and I'm not feeling good. At all. And of course I'm not gonna tell anybody about it, because that means I have to address the problem. And I never, ever, address problems. Ever. They'll fester in me till the day I die. Like maggots.
That's gross I apologise.
But- yeah. I'm not feeling good and I'm hiding this fact from Ben because he cheers me up way better when he doesn't know I'm sad.
"Hah! Gotcha!"
"Shit-!" I swear as my character (king k rool, in case you wondering) flies off the stage. Ben laughs and woops beside me in victory. I shoot him a glare.
"Man you suck at this game." He laughs.
"I don't suck." I spit back. "You're just really good."
"Suuure you are." The smug look he gives me makes me wanna punch him. My hand curls into a fist in my lap. I grunt at him in response. He laughs and nudges me. "Hey it's alright Jeffy," I hate that nickname with the burning passion of a thousand suns. "You'll learn how to play soon enough."
"Lay off, man." I mutter back. I drop the controller and he snickers.
"Aww c'mon don't tell me you're rage quitting on me."
"Shut up dude just-" I shoot him an agitated look. "Just shut your stupid mouth okay?"
His smile drops. "Hey, you okay man?" Shit. He sounds worried.
"I'm fine." I grunt back. He puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes it. "Get off."
The hand withdraws. I hear him shift on the bed next to me. "Hey, dude-" he frowns. "Are you feeling alright today? Do you- need to talk or chill or…?"
I glare at Ben. He's being nothing but supportive and kind and what am I doing? Being an ass. "No I don't need to fucking chill." I growl at him. "I'm fine, alright? Just fine."
"Alright…" it's quiet for a bit while Ben turns off the game. Eventually he speaks again. "You wanna watch a movie or something? I'm tired so…"
This is a trick. He's tricking me into taking care of my mental health. Fuck you Ben, I'll be as mentally ill as I want.
‘’I’m gonna go to my room.’’ I stand up and immediately get YANKED back onto the bed by my hood. Ben’s noodle arms wrap around my waist and hold me tight. ‘’Dude-!’’ this is getting a little tOO HOMO-EROTIC, BENNY BOY.
‘’Stay.’’ he murmurs. ‘’I wanna keep an eye on you.’’
‘’Why?’’ I snarl. ‘’Because I’m a stupid kid that can’t look after himself?! Huh?!’’
Ben flinches. ‘’Jeff-’’ he murmurs. ‘’It’s not that I don’t trust you it’s because I know that you need the company right now.’’ he frowns. ‘’Just- lemme keep an eye on you, alright…?’’
Fuck.
Fuck.
fuuuuUUUUUCK.
Why does he CARE SO MUCH. I HATE IT. I’m gonna slam my head into a wall. Gimme a minute.
…
Okay wall slamming accomplished. Back to my predicament.
‘’Fine.’’ I grunt. He (unfortunately) lets go of me. It’s silent. And uncomfortable. I pick at my fingers. He tilts his head at me.
‘’So- anything you wanna do?’’
I wanna hug you and kiss you and tell you I love you please Ben I’m gay and homophobic at the same time. ‘’Not really.’’
Ben puts a hand on my shoulder and scoots closer. He rests his hand on my other shoulder and...oh god I can fucking smell his hair from here- that’s creepy. Why am I creepy. Actually don’t answer that one. He looks up at me, bright blue eyes shining with kindness. ‘’You wanna talk about it…?’’ he asks gently. Normally I wouldn’t talk about my problems. Ever. But Ben is giving me puppy dog eyes.
‘’...I’m just thinking about mom and dad.’’ I mumble. He nods. ‘’They- treated me like shit. And I keep thinking about the shit they’d say to me-’’ I look down at him. He nods encouragingly. ‘’It’s like...they fucking hated me for all the shit I did- and now I’m here and people are understanding? And Slender- is actually trying to learn why I’m like this? Like- diagnosing me and shit to try and help…’’ I frown. ‘’And I’m just thinking like- if they’d sent me to a therapist would it be different? If I’d just gotten diagnosed or something-’’ I shake my head. ‘’I dunno man…’’
He sits up a bit. He hugs me, pulling me against him. My face goes fucking red. ‘’Maybe things would’ve…’’ he murmurs. ‘’But we can’t change the past...there’s no magic ocarina to take us back in time unfortunately.’’ of course he made a zelda reference. Of course. ‘’We just gotta accept what we got now,’’ he smiles. ‘’And we got each other, right? That’s something to be happy about, isn’t it?’’
Oh god Jeff don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. Not here. Not in front of the man you love.
…
And you’re crying. Good job Jeff.
I’m not a loud crier. But I am a gross crier. I get all snotty and stuttery and can’t get my voice out properly. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes and silently roll down my gross scarred face. Ben reaches over and brushes them off with cold fingers. He feels cold as he hugs me but I don’t care. I wrap an arm around him and tug him closer. I can feel his breath on my neck as he gently shushes me. He sounds so caring, so...loving. Like a parent should treat their mentally ill kid.
‘’B-ben-’’ I stammer out. He’s rubbing circles in my back. ‘’I lo-’’ wait what am I saying. ‘’I l-love-’’ WAIT HOLD ON- ‘’I love you…’’
SHIT
FUCK
NO
WAIT-
He hugs me tight and I shiver in the coldness of his body. ‘’I love you too…’’ his voice is soft and gentle. I believe him. I believe that he loves me. Genuinely- like I actually matter to him. He’d miss me if I was gone. And that- that’s a lot. I’ve spent my whole life feeling like it wouldn’t matter if I disappeared off the face of the earth. You wouldn’t care, my parents wouldn’t have cared. But Ben? Ben cares…
Which is why I proceed to squeeze the life (or lack thereof) out of him and sob into his shoulder. He holds me tight until I’ve (kinda) calmed down. He pulls away and tilts my head up to look at him. As gentle and as loving as I’d dreamed him, he wipes tears out of my eyes. I sob horsley and stare at him. He cups my face in his cold hands and smiles down at me.
‘’There you go…’’ he murmurs. ‘’See? I knew you just needed to get it out.’’ he smiles at me. I just- told him I love him. And he’s not making a big deal of it. That’s good, right?? That means he accepts me- right?
Right...yeah. Yeah, Ben accepts me. Ben doesn’t judge.
‘’Yeah…’’ I gulp and look away from him awkwardly. ‘’Hey uh- do you wanna-’’ I fiddle with my hands again. ‘’Do you wanna...watch a movie or something? Together.’’
He nods and smiles. ‘’I’d love to.’’
And so- we end up watching not one, not two, but three movies, late into the night. And the entire time he’s curled up in my lap, comfy as can be. As the credits on our last movie roll, he looks up at me.
‘’Hey Jeff?’’
‘’Yeah?’’
‘’I love you.’’
My face goes bright fucking red. I don’t need to see it, I can feel it. I bury my face in my hands out of embarrassment. I hear him laugh at me like the bastard he is. I shoot him a glare from in between my fingers. I want to say it. I really do. I want to tell him I love him back but- it’s- it’s hard. He reaches up and pulls one of my hands away, letting him see me.
‘’You don’t have to say it back. It’s okay. I know.’’ He hugs my waist and rests his head against my chest. ‘’I can wait...until you’re ready.’’
It’s at this point I start crying. Again.
Ben shushes me gently and runs his hand through my hair. And...as I looked down at him- it finally clicked. I don’t have to put the shield up- not around him. Ben is different. Ben...Ben is good.
Yeah.
Ben is good.
I guess...the reason why I’m telling you this- well...not telling, I guess- writing. The reason why I’m writing this is because...I feel like it’s something important. I need to remember it because...it’s a step. A step in me learning to accept myself. It sounds corny yeah but- fuck off okay? I’m full of trauma and insecurities. I’m allowed be a little sappy.
I don’t know who’ll end up reading this- I mean I’m literally scribbling it into a notebook I found in his drawer. There’s only two people who I really want this to be seen by. Ben, because he deserves to know how much he’s affected and helped me, and two...my brother. Though I doubt he’d ever find this- heh-
I...love Ben. And that’s okay. At least- to me, I think it is.
#creepypasta#creepypasta fanfiction#creepypasta fanfic#jeff the killer#jeffery woods#ben drowned#jeffdrowned#jeffxben#jeffben#writing
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greased lightnin’ - a cashton!mechanic blurb.
a/n: my second blurb for the fic event! did i finish it up 12 hours before it was supposed to be posted? maybe, but she’s here and she’s thriving. thank you once again to all the other fic writers involved in this event, you’re such a supportive group and ilu sm.
word count: 2.7k
warnings: mentions of a toxic relationship, oral (male receiving), smut, public sex
Event Masterlist
****
When Calum was little, his two favourite things to watch were Grease and Happy days; so it came as no surprise to anyone when he wanted to be a mechanic. Calum also may have cited a time or two that The Fonz and Danny Zuko are who opened his eyes to the fact that he was attracted to men.
The slicked back, leather jacket look was something Calum was into; and while he was well aware that no proper mechanic actually dressed like that, it didn’t stop him from wearing such a getup to his interview at Irwin’s Auto- his curly hair perfectly messy, white t-shirt fitted against his torso with his worn-in leather jacket over it.
Calum had hoped the man who did his pre-interview over the phone would be the one interviewing him, because based on voices alone Calum thought he sounded extremely attractive, and he was only rewarded when a young man who looked roughly his age came walking through the door.
The man wasn’t dressed like he would have expected, which only served to make him even more attractive. He was dressed in a torn-up black Led Zeppelin t-shirt, dark ripped jeans that hugged his thighs, and his black hair pushed off of his forehead - Calum had to give his head a small shake to get himself out of the headspace of checking out his potential boss.
“Don’t mind my outfit, I didn’t get much sleep and this is the first thing I found. I’m Ashton, I own this shop,” Ashton spoke, reaching out his hand for Calum to shake.
Standing to shake the man - Ashton’s - hand, Calum couldn’t help but to admire the blood moon tattoos on his forearms, “Not to worry, happens to all of us. M’Calum, I’m… interviewing to work here.”
Oh, so he was in the business of telling people things they already knew now, that’s good. The grin Calum received in response made him grin as well.
“My ex is an ass. I went to go get the last of my stuff and he wanted to start another fight… I don’t honestly know why I blurted that out, I’m sorry. That was unprof--”
“He?” Calum blurted out before he had the chance to rethink it. Maybe he did have a chance after all, if he didn’t get the job maybe he could follow up another time and ask him on a date.
Ashton’s frown made Calum’s breath seize in his throat though, immediately rethinking his choices, “Mate if you have an issue with gay people, you can get the fuck out.”
“No!” Calum sputtered, burying his face in his hands, “I was just surprised because I’m gay too. Well… Half gay, bisexual really. Fuck m’sorry, that was a horrible way to say that. I’m bi. I don’t have an issue with gay people.”
The grin returned to Ashton’s lips in an instant, leaning back into the chair opposite from him and crossing one leg over the other, “I think we’re going to get along just great.”
Calum was hired by the end of the interview, despite only being an apprentice at one other shop for three months before it went belly-up. He liked to think that maybe the fact that him and Ashton seemed to get along great had something to do with it, or maybe he just saw potential in Calum.
His first day hadn’t gone as well as he expected; he knocked over a tray of tools, and somehow managed to drop numerous items onto Ashton’s foot.
“You’re so lucky you’re pretty,” Ashton muttered under his breath, and it made Calum pause for a minute - had he just said he was pretty? No one had referred to him as pretty before.
It was all Calum could think of the rest of the day, doing his best to avoid dropping more things onto Ashton in hopes of not getting fired. After his first day of stumbling about, the rest of the week seemed to go smoothly; that was until he slipped on a small patch of oil on the ground, landing on his ass. Thankfully, it wasn’t a painful fall, but it was enough to have Ashton rushing to his aid, barking out a laugh when he realize Calum was okay.
“You’ve had a tough start and end to the week, wanna go for drinks after work?” Ashton asked, patting Calum on the forehead.
Calum agreed a little too quickly, a blush creeping up on his cheeks when Ashton held his hand out to help him up. They had brushed past each other before, but Calum had forgotten how warm Ashton’s hands were, and how nice the man’s calloused fingers felt against his own. Realizing he was holding on for a little too long, he quickly pulled his hand away to run his fingers through his hair, messing up his curls a little more and tugging on the ends in his embarrassment.
Ashton’s eyes lingered for longer than he’d care to admit on Calum’s fingers in his hair, silently wishing they were his own. The more he got to know Calum, the more attracted he was to him; he struggled of course, because he was supposed to be his boss, and it would be completely out of line. Ashton had thought more than once about how Calum’s lips would feel against his own, or how many more tattoos the man had.
“You okay?” Calum asked, “I was the one who slipped, mate. You look like you’re going to be ill.”
Ashton shook his head, laughing softly, “Just thinkin’ bout the damages you woulda cost me if you cracked that thick skull of yours on the concrete.”
With that, the two returned to work- Calum placing the tires back onto a car, Ashton trying not to watch the way his muscles moved underneath his jumpsuit. And Ashton replacing someone’s rear brakes, Calum definitely not watching the way his stomach muscles would tense on a particularly hard tug. The day seemed to pass slowly, the anticipation creeping up making Calum sweat for more reasons than just the heat.
“Ready to go?” Ashton grinned, wiping the sweat off his brow with the rag that had been hanging out of his pocket.
“Uh, yeah. Just gotta get outta my grease monkey clothes, y’know,” Calum chuckled before he turned to head for the bathroom to get changed.
By the time he had cleaned up the sweat from his face, and changed into mostly decent clothes, Ashton was already ready, leaning against his car waiting for him. As if Calum couldn’t be any more attracted to the man, seeing him sitting against the hood of a black 1969 Ford Mustang made him practically salivate at the sight.
Ashton simply grinned when he saw him, pulling the sunglasses onto his face and pushing himself off the car, “Ever been in a car like this? S’a beaut.”
Calum hummed, shaking his head, “I’ve only ever seen cars like this, oldest car I think I’ve been in was a 1995 impala ss, I think?”
Ashton nodded, allowing the engine to roar to life, “Well then you’re in for a treat, mate. Maybe we’ll go for a drive and I’ll let you take the wheel. You’ve driven stick before, yeah?”
“I’ve handled a few sticks in my time,” Calum smirked, watching a look of realization cross over Ashton’s features that his meaning may not be entirely innocent, sporting a matching smirk all the way to their destination.
Walking into the bar, Calum relaxed at the familiar warmth of the bar enveloping him; the smells invading his nostrils, and the music had him humming along quietly as he followed Ashton to a table in the back corner.
Once they settled in and had their drinks, conversation flowed easily between the two men. Talking about where one another grew up, favourite hobbies, foods, and the like. It wasn’t until the subject of relationships came up that Calum grew more quiet and withdrawn, which Ashton took notice of as he spoke of his ex boyfriend.
“What about you, any horrible first date or relationship stories to share?”
Calum shrugged, taking a long sip of his beer before he spoke, “I’ve only had one boyfriend, and it wasn’t the best experience. He wasn’t out to his family yet, so he had to keep me hidden. I didn’t so much mind that he wasn’t ready to come out, of course, what I minded was that his shame lead me to being treated pretty shitty by him. Needless to say that relationship didn’t last very long, and I’ve been single ever since.”
Ashton listened intently, leaning his elbows onto the table so he could listen to Calum better, “I’m so sorry you experienced that. It’s like you said it would be fine if he wasn’t prepared to come out, but the way he treated you is inexcusable.”
Calum nodded, draining the rest of his beer and setting the glass down, “It’s fine, m’doing better now. Trying to go on some dates, but each one has been pretty shitty.”
“Hm, well the goal I’d say is to be a little less shitty every time no?”
Chuckling, Calum nodded, “Yeah, well, I don’t know if you can tell but I have no idea what I’m doing. I almost never do.”
Ashton quirked a brow, smiling around the rim of his glass before draining his as well, “My big toe would have to agree,” he paused, looking towards the window to see if it was dark. Seemingly pleased that the sun was beginning to set, he looked back to Calum, “Wanna go for that drive? I got the tab while you were in the bathroom.”
Calum frowned, agreeing to heading out, but not before promising Ashton that he’d pick up the tab the next time.
When they walked out to the car, Ashton spun to face him, walking backwards while he spoke, “I was gonna let you drive, but there was somewhere I wanted to show you first.”
The question didn’t leave Calum’s lips of if he was about to get murdered, simply letting Ashton drive. Classic rock played in the background softly, Calum enjoying the feeling of the wind through his hair as he realized Ashton was driving towards the beaches.
“Why would you want to go to the beach at night?”
“Not technically night yet, Cal, we’re going to watch the sunset on the beach. Well not on, but on the hood of my car!” Ashton smiled brightly over at Calum when he pulled into the parking lot. Ashton seemed like he was driving to the furthest spot away from the entrance, and all the other cars, and it made Calum pause for a moment - maybe he really was being murdered. “Stop looking so worried, I just like to play music and I don’t wanna disturb people around us.”
Once he had parked, Ashton encouraged Calum to get out so they could sit on the hood, leaning back against the windshield to watch the sunset. Calum thought of how crazy that within a week his life had drastically changed; he got his dream career, made a new friend, and started to feel more like himself than he ever had.
“You okay?” Ashton asked, tilting his head in Calum’s direction, “What’s goin’ on in that head of yours?”
“Just thinkin’...” He trailed off, feeling Ashton bump his shoulder so he would continue. “My life has improved so much just in the last week, and I have you to thank for that. I went from this dorky dude who was stuck in the past, still hurt over his ex, to a passably cool mechanic who’s only looking forward to the future.”
Ashton smiled, shifting to move closer to Calum, their thighs touching, “Good. I meant what I said before, the way he treated you was inexcusable. You’re such a smart, funny, and talented man, it’s part of the reason I hired you, and you didn’t deserve to be treated like that.”
Calum’s breath caught in his throat when he turned his head to find Ashton inches away from his face. Swallowing thickly, his eyes searched the man’s hazel ones, watching as they cast down to his lips, “What was the other part that you hired me for?”
The man licked his lips, slowly dragging his eyes back up to meet Calum’s, “Say the word and I won’t. But I hired you because I didn’t want anyone else to have you.”
His words were true, that ever since he met Calum he knew he had to have him; on his staff, and just in his life in general. Ashtons’ words were all it took for Calum to close the gap, his soft lips meeting Ashtons’ own. Calum’s fingers tangled in the white shirt the man was wearing, pulling him closer.
Their kiss was heated, needy, and it didn’t take long to realize where these kisses were going to lead. Ashton’s lips trailed along Calum’s jaw, his fingers gently coming to rest on Calum’s crotch and toying with the zipper.
“Ash, we’re in public--”
“And?”
“And? What if someone sees us and calls the cops?” Calum nervously glanced over his head to see if anyone was looking at them, only to be relieved that a majority of the pairings had dissipated, few cars left in the parking lot.
“Fuck ‘em, want you,” Ashton hummed, pressing kisses along Calum’s neck. “Do you want this? Because we can stop.”
Calum knew it shouldn’t be sexy, but Ashton reassuring that it was okay seemed to only turn him on more, nodding feverishly, “Yes. I want you, please.”
Ashton didn’t need to be told twice, his fingers working at the button of his jeans, sliding the zipper down soon after. Reconnecting their lips, Calum moaned as Ashton palmed his clothed cock. The friction of Ashton’s hand combined with the fabric of his boxers could have been enough for Calum, not having been touched in such a way in a while, but he wanted to hold off as long as he could to see what Ashton had in mind.
Leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses along his chest, Calum gasped when Ashton finally reached the waistband of his boxers, tugging them down with ease. He could see the man lick his lips once more, which made him let out a quiet moan.
Ashton leaned forward and began to tease the head with his tongue, hand wrapping around Calum’s length to keep it in place. A few more teasing licks, and Ashton dipped his head, taking as much of Calum in his mouth that he could all at once. Gasping at the feeling, Calum’s eyes quickly darted around to see if anyone was watching before he tangled his fingers in Ashton’s hair. The older man expertly bobbed his head, hollowing out his cheeks and flattening his tongue against the underside of Calum’s cock.
“Fuck. Your mouth feels so good,” Calum whined, biting his lip to keep from being too loud, though he so wanted to.
Ashton picked up his speed, using his hand to make up the rest that he couldn’t take into his mouth. Calum nearly came then and there when the tip hit the back of Ashton’s throat, causing him to gag slightly. Though he wanted to, Calum knew he wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer, especially with the way Ashton was moving his tongue against him.
“Ash, m’gonna cum,” Calum whispered, just loud enough for Ashton to hear. The final push for Calum was when Ashton took him into his mouth again, allowing the tip to hit the back of his throat despite the gagging it caused him, the sensation sending Calum over the edge. With a whimper of Ashton’s name, and a final tug on the older man’s hair as he came, Ashton working him through it.
Once Calum had come down, he pulled Ashton in for a kiss, smirking against his lips, “Definitely wasn’t the way I was expecting my first week to go.”
Ashton chuckled, helping Calum get redressed, “Well, welcome to the team Fonzi.”
“Fonzi?”
“Dunno, when you came in you kinda reminded me of Fonzi from Happy Days,” Ashton said with a small giggle, pressing his lips to Calum’s once again.
“Please, you’re more like Fonzi. I’m like… the b-list Fonzi, a Bonzi if you will.”
“Bonzi and Fonzi? I could get used to that.”
regular tag list: @haikucal @talkfastromance4 @softbabiestan @boyfriend-cal @calum-uncrowned @wildflowerirwin @irwindoll @gosh-im-short @thesubtweeter @heavenisapeach @ridingcthood @loveroflrh @mantlereid @inlovehoodx @irwinkitten @n-ctarinenga @g-l-pierce @thecurlsofgod @idontneedanyone
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Belos the Cabinet Man!
MAJOR kudos to @funnyfany for introducing me to Cabinet Man by Lemon Demon, because as they said… This song is PERFECT for someone like Emperor Belos, and just in general slaps! Like, it honestly really describes my read on him? In fact, why don’t I peel and dissect the lyrics to see how they could easily apply to him;
The day they found me, I hadn’t yet been played
Inside my workshop behind my old arcade
Electric desires had unraveled all my wires
Now I’m in the box for safekeeping
These lyrics allude to Belos’ obvious motifs of technology, as well as him having a ‘workshop’, which ties to his work on the portal! But there’s also the concept of him being rather ancient, as well as needing to be protected because he’s vulnerable in the end; Such as by metal armor, instead of a box?
The news reporters reported that I died
But all my organs were living on inside
Circuit board to brain with two lungs collecting change
One big human heart gently beeping
The first line immediately makes me think of Perry Porter, but it also makes me think about what the ‘Unauthorized Author’ had to say, about Belos retreating into his castle, and people speculating that he had big plans while he let Kikimora and others be his public face. Again, there’s more machine-flesh imagery, as well as the obvious allusion to a giant beating heart. Two lungs collecting change can allude to Belos and his greedy hunger for power and bile.
You can’t win me, I can’t be beat
I won’t hurt you, unless you cheat
You can’t see me behind the screen
I’m half human and half machine
We’ve got Belos boasting how invincible he is, but it can also refer to how the Coven System is a lose-lose situation, that either you go off and be alone and persecuted as an individual, OR you conform and became safe, but lose your identity in the process!
We have Belos alluding to how he can be a merciful dude unless you really piss him off; And that line about cheating reminds me of how the Coven System seeks out only the most ‘worthy’ of people, and how this mentality has affected characters like Amity, who by consequence despise cheating!
Or how Boscha’s bullying is mostly rude remarks… Until she feels like her attention is being ‘stolen’ by others, then she resorts to some brutal and even dangerous tactics in retaliation! To Belos, he just wants people to fit into their little spots, he’s offering them a nice little role and function in society, an actual place, he’s not a bad and malicious dude! Just a messenger…
Similarly, ‘cheating’ could be seen as doing magic the ‘wrong way’, because otherwise, competition to join the Emperor’s Coven and be the best is encouraged, so long as you engage with the system properly and play by its rules! You’re just not supposed to do Wild Magic, mix tracks, that sort of thing; Otherwise you WILL be persecuted by Belos!
Then there’s the idea of Belos being hidden behind his mask, or just hidden in general (like when he spies on Luz, Willow, and Gus in his castle), and again, the biomechanical imagery! I can’t say for sure if he WAS human or not, because Belos definitely isn’t NOW, to say the least!
Thank God for business, they let me take the floor
I stood so proudly, like I was going to war
Players soon appeared and I quickly was revered
This must be what love would have felt like
The Titan is responsible for Belos’ power (allegedly), as he claims to enforce its will. Belos’ art depicts him as standing above the rest, and him being VERY tall definitely helps… Then you have him going on a crusade against wild witches, being worshipped by many others, and POSSIBLY a connection to my speculation on him being a lonely individual who was never properly loved in the past, and is confusing this with distant worship…
And really this just makes me think of other analyses of the Coven System as creating codependent relationships and hollow images to love VS that people actually are! Regardless, it also reminds me of Belos’ parasitic motifs, that last line, so you know!
Such dedication, they came from miles away
With eyes so piercing, they’d wait their turn to play
In perfect patient lines because I was in their minds
I could do whatever I felt like (Whatever I felt like)
Students from Hexside literally travel miles to Belos’ castle on a field trip, and we have Eda mentioning how Lilith was so excited to meet him as children! Kids looking up to Belos, seeing him as someone to adulate, a role model even (with Lilith invoking him in her motives for the curse)… People literally dedicating their entire lives (and even those of their children) to Belos and his Coven! And of course, we have Belos having the power to do as he pleases, be it going back on his promise to Lilith, letting Luz rescue her friends because he has the portal anyway, etc.; It’s an almost nonchalant disregard of others for what matters to BELOS in the end…
I’m happy for years and years
And only eating the occasional maintenance man
Only driving a few kids to madness
Maybe they were predisposed to madness, who knows?
Skipping over some repeat lines, we have Belos being at the top for a while, and of course, draining palismans for their bile to restore his health! Kids going mad easily describes people like Lilith, Boscha, or Amity, who base their entire self-worth on joining the Emperor’s Coven, being at the top, and/or fitting in, to the point where Lilith even curses her own sister, Boscha brutally bullies those she sees as a threat to her popularity, while people like the Blight Parents abuse and indoctrinate their kids for social status!
But then Belos speculates that, hey… HE didn’t make them do this! His system encouraged and enabled them, sure… But in the end it was their actions, which brings to mind how while influenced, none of these characters are entirely faultless either for their actions. Not only that, but it makes me think about how some people seem predisposed and outright embracing of what Belos has to say, as if even without his Coven System they would always be this kind of awful… Such as Warden Wrath, or again, the Blight Parents!
That last line really makes me think about how different characters coped differently with the pressure, with some remaining good people, while others enabled themselves to do terrible things. Perhaps Belos merely revealed what was already there? Because it still says a lot about other people that they chose to believe and follow in him when others made the decision notto.
I only want to have fun
But now they’re telling me my days here are done
‘Cause there’s a little tiny box they make in Japan
And pretty soon it’s gonna fit in your hand
Belos just wants to be at the top, he’s ‘just a humble messenger for the Titan’, and maybe like Luz in Episode 2 he just wanted to be special… But he’s also clearly past his expiration date and dying, too. Not only that, but we have a rival… Someone smaller than Belos both literally and in the metaphorical, underdog sense;
A foreigner from a different land, one who can teach others to cast magic within their hands through Glyphs! There’s Belos, an Old Soul, being made obsolete and redundant by Luz and her Glyphs, which potentially function as a work-around to his coven bindings and draining of bile! Not to mention how her ideals also make Belos’ seem rather antiquated, don’t they? Not to mention the idea of power and control being in the hands of the people, not dependent upon a singular source like Belos…
His short-lived reign is being actively threatened by Luz’s presence, which Belos acknowledges as having changed everything… And really, it just reminds me of how characters like Boscha enjoyed being at the top as a result of Belos’ influence, only to feel threatened when others come along and ‘steal’ that glory!
It’s getting lonely, it’s getting hard to breathe
The arcade’s empty, I think it’s Christmas Eve
Someone’s broken in, now they’re painting on my skin
Breaking me and taking my quarters
Bashing in my face with a crowbar
Kicking me and pushing me over
Now they see my blood on their sneakers
Literally the first thing we see of Belos is him having labored breathing… And again, there’s this idea that he’s being left behind as obsolete, he’s reclusive and retreated into his castle and doesn’t let others near him; He’s at the top, and it’s a lonely place! It’s the Eve of Christmas, Christmas is right around the corner, just as the Day of Unity is approaching, when;
The next few lines invoke the image of Luz breaking into Belos’ castle/the conformatorium… And if you go by the idea that the Castle is a part of Belos, Luz and co. vandalizing the treasury as akin to vandalizing Belos’ own body! Not to mention the three stealing Belos’ relics… And of course, Luz ‘bashing in’ Belos’ face/mask with an ice spike! Only to realize that there’s clearly a LOT more body horror to Belos than she anticipated…! Realizing that Belos is linked to the very ground and earth she stands upon, and boy can he manipulate it!
After that, the song ends with some repeat lyrics; But all-in-all, I would LOVE to see, someday, someone else (or maybe even myself) do an AMV of Emperor Belos, but with Cabinet Man by Lemon Demon! Compiled entirely of various clips that allude to the lyrics I mentioned earlier, that’d be a lot of fun and if I knew how to do video edits I could do it myself one day!
#the owl house#owl house#the owl house belos#emperor belos#cabinet man#lemon demon#lyric analysis#character analysis#the owl house amity#amity blight#the owl house boscha#warden wrath#the owl house luz#luz noceda
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Tumblr is being Tumblr (or maybe my computer is being weird) so I can’t do a fancy link, but here it is! Mechtober prompt 4: vampires! 13 days late!
ao3
Raphaella La Cognizi had spent millenia exploring what the universe had to offer. She had spent millenia traveling with her crew, her friends, to see as much as she could. She had spent millenia unearthing and discovering everything she could get her hands on. She had spent millenia on learning what others had deemed unknowable.
She was positive she knew more than anyone else could ever know, than anyone else would ever know. She was positive that even though she had so much more to find, she had already found more than anyone else.
It was three days until their next planetfall, and Raphaella had spent nearly a year of travel studying her newest fixation.
Most of what she knew was based on outdated information from Earth and a few vague references from nearby planets. Best as she could tell, the species in question was either entirely fictional, or very, very extinct. Any space faring technology they may have had was long since lost. They had likely traveled to at least two systems, as the old stories and histories were widespread yet consistent. Most interestingly, they appeared to be immortal, or at least extremely long lived. For all the people she had met who wished for and reached for immortality, none (save her friends) had actually ever achieved it. A species that was naturally that long lived was well worth her interest.
Given how much of the information came from well before her time and the other side of the universe, Raphaella had decided that inquiring into the others’ knowledge would be worth her while.
~~~
“So, what are your thoughts on vampires?” Raphaella thought the question was innocent enough.
As she was quick to discover, it wasn’t.
Jonny choked on his drink, quickly turning to the sink to avoid spitting everywhere. Nastya fell out of the vent she had been relaxing in with a startled yelp, crushing the Toy Soldier, who had been attempting to bake cookies. Tim had immediately looked up from his latest incendiary device, fixing Raphaella with a solid glare mixing hatred and incredulous surprise in equal parts. She was half convinced his eyes were about to burn holes through her skull. Ashes, who had been casually leaning against the bar, attempting to mix a drink that would actually kill them in one go, burst out in pained laughter as they slid to the floor.
“I take it they’re real, then.”
Ashes continued laughing as everyone else attempted to regain their bearings. Even the Toy Soldier seemed flustered.
“You’re asking-” They cut off with a choked giggle. “You’re asking if vampires-” Another giggle, this time less repressed. “You’re asking if vampires are real?” The incredulity in Ashes’s question made Raphaella recoil, wings rustling behind her.
“Well, yes. The lore on them is sparse, but I figured given how many alternate dimensions and time jumps-”
“Jonny, Nastya, she’s asking if vampires are real!” Ashes had turned to the First Mate. “You lot heard it too, right?”
Jonny tried to wheeze out a response, but his face had gone rather blue as he continued trying to cough up whatever it was he was still choking on. Nastya merely grunted in what may have been humor, still lying atop the Toy Soldier. Tim was the first to actually verbalize a response.
“I heard it too, Ashes,” he replied, voice stiffly neutral. After a brief moment of consideration, he turned a question to the Science Officer. “Why on Earth do you think we would know if vampires are real?”
This was too much for Nastya, who burst into tears of laughter. The Toy Soldier, who for all appearances had resigned itself to remaining crushed under Nastya, joined the laughter.
“I mean, you’ve all been alive and travelling for quite a bit longer than I have, and everything I’ve found points to the species being extinct but rather widespread, so I figured you might have encountered some in the past. Or the future. Or a parallel dimension. Whenever.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “So, are they real? Have you met any?”
Jonny chose that moment to finally choke to death, so her question was accentuated by a loud thump as his body fell limp. Ashes had managed to climb back up to lean on the bar, but was once again laughing too hard to be functional. Tim hadn’t taken his eyes off of Raphaella, but she thought he was beginning to crack a smile. Nastya and the Toy Soldier had begun extricating themselves, each covered in flour and egg. This process was made difficult by Nastya’s tendency to collapse every time she began to laugh again. The Toy Soldier, expression as unreadable as ever, appeared to be attempting to join in the humor.
Raphaella couldn’t tell if this was the whole peer pressure thing they’d been working on with it, or if it actually found the situation entertaining.
“I really can’t tell if that is a yes or a no, guys.”
“It’s a-” Tim’s careful neutrality gave way to a cough that was almost certainly stifling his own giggles. “It’s a-” Another cough. “Oh, God, I’m not gonna be able to say it with a straight face.” A coughing fit this time. Raphaella frowned.
“It’s a binary question. Vampires are real. Yes or no? This really shouldn’t be that difficult.”
“I know! I just still can’t get over the fact that you’re asking if vampires are real!” Ashes wheezed. Raphaella wasn’t sure how they could run out of oxygen, but they had made a pretty damn good effort at it. “Vampires! Of all the things!”
That was evidently enough to break Tim, who almost immediately fell off the couch he had been precariously balanced on. His bomb came with him, landing on his stomach with a satisfying thunk, cutting off his choked laughs.
“You all are the least helpful- you know what? I’ll go ask Ivy. Save myself the trouble of dealing with you lot.” Raphaella turned away from the rec room and began to stalk away.
Behind her, she heard the scrambling of four people and one thing frantically trying to get up and follow. She didn’t dignify them with an acknowledgement, until Tim appeared in her peripheral vision, bomb in hand.
“So… You’re gonna ask Ivy?” His mask of apathy was long since replaced with manic humor.
“Yes.”
“Can you wait for like, three minutes, while I go find Brian?” Raphaella turned to glare at Tim. “Please? He’ll want to be there.”
“No.” Raphaella turned back to face forwards, and picked up her pace.
“Ugh, fine. Be back in a bit,” Tim shouted from down another hall as he sprinted off. A few smothered giggles sounded from behind her from the four others in her wake.
“I really don’t get why this is such a funny question, and I really don’t like being played for a fool,” Raphaella stated, trying to gauge their responses. From the squelching sound, she would guess Nastya or Ashes had stabbed Jonny. A second squelching sound and sudden thump implied it was both of them, and that Jonny was currently dead. A muted conversation between Nastya and the Toy Soldier confirmed her thoughts. The conversation was followed by the sound of heavy running as they all attempted to catch back up to her, Jonny presumably flung over the Toy Soldier’s shoulder.
“If I’m being honest, I doubt Ivy will be able to answer you any better than us,” Nastya said, attempting conversation. Ashes snorted behind the two of them.
“Are you saying she won’t know, or that she won’t tell?” Raphaella cursed her curious nature. She had now failed twice at not talking to the others.
“Hmm, the second. She may not be as scientifically oriented as you, but she’s got an air-tight memory. I don’t think she’s ever forgotten anything. Ever. Not since-” Nastya cut off with a stifled cough. “Not since the doctor-” Nastya had to pause again, and Raphaella groaned. “Not since the doctor replaced her brain- Tim was right! I can’t do this with a straight face!” Nastya cried as she burst into laughter once again, falling back to laugh along with the Toy Soldier and Jonny, who appeared to have finally woken up.
“You can all go jump out the airlock,” Raphaella called over her shoulder as she made the last turn towards the library. “Just, fuck off into the void. You’d be just as helpful floating lifeless as you are right now.”
“I found him!” Any response from her followers was cut off by Tim’s triumphant shout, echoing down a corridor a few meters ahead. “I got Brian! And Marius. He just kinda tagged along. But Brian’s the important one. And I got him.” Tim exited the side passage just as Raphaella passed by. True to his word, Brian’s wrist was held tightly in his hand and Marius popped out a few seconds later, confusion etched into his features. “You haven’t asked Ivy yet, right?”
“Go die in a hole.”
“Charming as ever, Raphaella. And I’ll take that as a no.”
“You still haven’t told me what I’m doing here,” Brian groaned as Tim dragged him along. “We’re flying through enough gravitational variation right now that I really should be up on the bridge-”
“No, you’ll want to be here for this,” Nastya interjected. “It’s going to be worth it.”
Brian hummed noncommittally, but didn’t pull away from Tim’s grip. Raphaella rolled her eyes and continued stomping on towards the library.
As she finally, finally, reached the open door, Raphaella tried not to breathe a sigh of relief. Ivy would understand her curiosity. Ivy would be able to help her research. Her library was, after all, the largest and most complete in existence. Ivy would be able to answer her question.
“Ivy? Are you here?” she called out. “I need your help!”
“Raph? What’s the problem?” The archivist appeared from around a corner that none of the rest had even realized was a corner, causing at least two of them to jump. She paused, eyes scanning the entirety of the crew crammed into the small welcome area. “And why did you bring so many people?”
“I have a question. I have already asked Jonny, Nastya, Tim, Ashes, and the Toy Soldier, and they have been murderously unhelpful.”
“But not Marius or Brian.”
“Hmm, no. They weren’t in the room when I first broached the topic, and I have since been trying to ignore everyone because they are all being assholes.”
“Fair.”
“Thank you.”
“So,” Ivy hops up to sit on a small desk. “What’s your question?”
“Are vampires real?”
Ivy falls off the desk.
~~~
Raphaella swears to herself to never ask any of the rest of the Mechanisms anything ever again.
#the mechanisms#the mechs#raphaella la cognizi#jonny d'ville#nastya rasputina#ivy alexandria#gunpowder tim#drumbot brian#marius von raum#ashes o’reilly#the toy soldier#my fic#mechtober#mechtober2020#vampires
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Death Should Not Have Taken Thee!- Chapter 1
Shuichi Saihara. 22. College graduate. Works at his uncle's detective agency. Known on MonoQuest as Blueberry97.
Kokichi Ouma. 23. Didn't go to college. Works at the local supermarket. Known on MonoQuest as Princesex69.
Both boys live in the same town but have never met, due to their different backgrounds. However, they play a popular MMORPG called MonoQuest together, and become guild partners for almost a year. When Blueberry97 asks to meet Princesex69 in real life, they find out more about each other than they had ever expected.
Also, Ouma's MonoQuest avatar is a girl. Confusion ensues.
~~~~~~~~~~
An MMO au based off of adiazrue's au on instagram! Please go check out their art it's amazing!
Check out my Tumblr @hajimes-erect-ahoge for updates and if you want to talk ideas! (please talk to me about this fic i have no idea where I'm going with this lol)
don't take the title too seriously no one's gonna die I just wanted to do a vocaloid reference
ao3
9:57 pm.
Ouma groaned as he looked at his watch, anxiously waiting until his shift ended. Just three more minutes and he would be free to do as he pleased, leaving the supermarket’s duties to the other workers.
Glancing over his shoulder, he noticed an older lady with short, dark hair settling her items onto the checkout belt. With the most insincere grin plastered on his face that he could muster, he began scanning and bagging her items while his mind drifted off.
A fantasy world filled with monsters and dungeons, available to anyone with a working computer! The world of MonoQuest awaits you!
The jingle of Ouma’s current obsession- a video game called MonoQuest- echoed in his head as he helped the woman check out.
MonoQuest was Ouma’s place to freely be himself, letting loose and having fun in a fantasy world. The lush gardens, the sparkling rivers and the spooky monster-ridden caves were all ever so enticing, but one aspect stood out above all the rest: his guild partner, Blueberry97. True to his name, his avatar was mostly blue in color, except for his light green eyes that stood out effortlessly.
Ouma’s own avatar, however, was mostly decorated with a lavender color, bordering on pink. With long hair tied up in two ponytails and a frilly dress, his avatar was undeniably female, despite him being, well, not a female. Not like it mattered anyway, as Ouma was perfectly content with his avatar being the way it was.
Snapping out of his thoughts, Ouma rang up the woman’s total for her purchase and helped her load the bags into her cart.
“Have a nice day!” the woman chirped, leading Ouma to respond with a short nod. Noticing that it was just past ten o’clock, he placed the closed sign over his aisle and made his way out from behind the counter. It didn’t take long for him to clock out of work and start his drive home.
----------
Ouma entered the apartment hurriedly, tossing his keys onto the counter. Kiibo was already asleep by now since he tended to go to bed early, and Iruma was still at work, meaning Ouma was basically alone in their shared apartment.
Sparing no hesitation, he made his way to his bedroom, closing and locking the door behind him. He sat down at his desk and started up his computer, his hand gliding over the mouse. Within minutes he had successfully opened up MonoQuest, typing in his username, Princesex69. Spawning in the plaza of the town, it didn’t take long for a message to appear on the side of his screen from his guild partner.
@Blueberry97
Hey! Wanna go on a quest together? I picked up a new side quest together and I wanted to try it out with you! :)
Ouma smiled at the message and began typing quickly.
@Princesex69
Only if you promise to be my knight in shining armor if things go bad! TT
@Blueberry97
Of course, princess! Meet me in the forest by the village and I’ll be there to protect you!
@Princesex69
Omw!
Moving as quickly as possible, Ouma dashed over to the forest outside of the village to meet his guild partner. He spotted him waiting right by the entrance, his familiar blue avatar standing in contrast to the green of the forest.
“Princess!” Blueberry97 jogged up to Princesex69, greeting her eagerly. “You made it!”
“Of course! Who do you think I am?” She grinned smugly at him, twirling one of her ponytails between her fingers.
He smiled warmly at her, “Shall we get going?”
She nodded and walked into the forest with him, the two of their avatars standing in close proximity to one another.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been in here before…” the princess mused, looking up at the trees towering up above them.
“Me neither…” Blueberry97 responded, “I think they added this forest in the new update.”
Princesex69 hummed in agreement, continuing to walk with her guild partner.
Suddenly, an arm was thrust in front of her, preventing her from walking any further.
“Princess, watch out!” the young knight shouted in alarm, bringing the princess out of her daze.
She immediately looked forward, noticing a particularly angry group of forest goblins standing a few feet away from them.
“Stay back!” he shouted, preparing to fight them off.
The princess contemplated joining him in his endeavors- she wasn’t helpless, after all- but he had eliminated the goblins in the blink of an eye.
“Wow! How brave of you to protect me from danger! I guess you really <i>are</i> a knight after all!” she gushed.
The knight blushed, turning to face the princess. “I-I’m still in training, you know… I don’t really consider myself a full-fledged knight.”
The princess thought to herself for a moment before responding, “Hmm, whatever you say, I guess! But that was toooootally heroic of you to save me like that!” She tilted her head innocently, noticing the way that the knight’s blush deepened at her words.
“I, uh, I guess so…” he stammered.
“Now come on!” She pulled on his arm, leading him deeper into the forest. “We’ve still got a bunch more monsters to kill!”
He smiled and nodded, following the princess into the depths of the mysterious forest.
----------
“Whew! That was sooooo much work! I’m totally beat!” Princesex69 groaned, sitting on the ground next to the river. Blueberry97 followed suit, sitting cross-legged by the edge of the river.
“Me too…” he looked over at the princess, who was gazing into the distance over the river.
She looked beautiful like that, the knight thought. Spending time with her was truly exhilarating, and was completely different than spending time with the other guild members. They were partners, after all, but there’s more to it than just that. He felt like he was exceptionally close to the princess, and he wanted to know more and more about her. If only…
“What’s on your mind?” Blueberry97 jumped at the sudden question, clearly startled. “You’ve been staring at me for the past few moments. It’s getting kind of creepy…”
“Ah, sorry!” he apologized.
“Just kidding! I’m used to it by now! All part of being a beautiful princess in a magical fantasy world!” She smiled cheekily at him, causing him to chuckle.
“Actually, there is something on my mind.” he swallowed, hoping it would help in getting rid of the nervous pit in his stomach. He stood up slowly, grabbing the princess by the hand of helping her up as well.
“It’s been a year since we’ve become guild partners. I’ve had a lot of fun playing with you, but… I want more. I want to meet you in real life!” He clenched his fists, looking at her with determined eyes. “Please! I want to know the real you!”
The princess stood there in stunned silence, not exactly sure what to say. She hesitated to speak, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet in order to dissipate some of her nervous energy.
“I, uh…” she stammered.
“I’m sorry, princess, I…!” Blueberry97 apologized, “I shouldn’t have said that, I’m…”
“N-No, don’t apologize! It’s just…” she paused, still unsure of herself. “I have to go! I’ll talk to you tomorrow! Bye!”
And just like that, Princesex69 logged out of MonoQuest. Blueberry97 stood there, taken aback by her sudden disappearance. He sighed to himself, looking down at the ground.
“...See you tomorrow…”
----------
Ouma flopped down onto his bed, promptly screaming into his pillow. How could he do that? He just left his guild partner hanging, without even giving him a proper response to his offer. How could he be so stupid?”
He lifted himself up from the pillow, turning himself over so that he was laying down on his back. Staring at the ceiling in the pitch black darkness, he cursed himself for being such a coward.
Why did I have to log out so fast? Why didn’t I tell him that I wanted to meet him in real life too? It’s not like I don’t want to meet him, it’s just…
Ouma sighed, balling his hands into fists.
Everything is all my fault… I should’ve never made my stupid avatar a girl in the first place… that way I wouldn’t have to deal with this shit…
The truth was, Ouma did want to meet Blueberry97 in real life. Hell, he wanted it more than anything. But he was almost certain that he would want nothing to do with him after finding out that he wasn’t a beautiful young girl and instead a short and immature boy with a penchant for mischief.
He rolled over in bed, closing his eyes in an attempt to force himself to sleep. He could deal with this tomorrow, or whenever the next time he logged onto MonoQuest was…
Or not.
#my writing#death should not have taken thee#danganronpa#danganronpa v3#shuichi saihara#kokichi ouma#kokichi oma#oumasai#saiouma
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Sorry if you've answered this before, I tried searching through some of your tags but Tumblr really doesn't want to work with me today- I'm really interested in getting a cock as a companion bird, but I'm not sure how I am meant to respond to driving behaviour if it were to occur. Am I just meant to ignore it until the cock gets bored?
Tenacity is strongly valued in pigeon cocks, so ignoring attempts to drive you will just make him try harder.
Biting behavior is not all created equal, and my favorite trait of pigeons is that they can learn to understand verbal communication.
They categorize things and learn the equivalent of words by the same mechanic as a human toddler.
https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2014/04/140402095107.htm
https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2015/02/150204184447.htm
So it’s super easy to make verbal associations with them to help bridge the gap between human and pigeon, especially if you are watching their behavior.
When he bites, push into it like you are going to fight back.
I associate that with the verbal question “Oh! Is it fight time?”
If he spooks, he was trying to warn you that you are too close. A common behavior in weanlings who have just left the nest, because adult pigeons haze every new flock member by pecking their head and upper back until they learn to get TF out of the way.
Young birds of both sexes instinctively assume that anything they read as an ‘adult’ is going to attack them once they are more steady on their feet, which can come across to people who have hand reared their baby as the peep suddenly flipping a switch and hating them.
Their own parents haze them on the ground the same as any other flock member, once they are weaned. They have to learn that their human parent won’t by experience.
The correct response to a spook is “I’m sorry. I’m not after you. It’s ok.” and withdrawing your hand a little to give the peep settle space.
If the peep got up on your knee and then spooked at your hand and snapped, calmly remind him “Buddy, that’s part of me.” with out moving it.
If he bites hard, but briefly, and then repeats with one quick jab every few second, he’s trying to initiate the chase phase of Driving.
I respond to this with a playful “Oh no! He’s gonna get me!” and use my hand as an interaction proxy for him to chase, like you’d get a kitten to chase a feather teaser.
When you are tired of letting him chase you, just let him catch up. That part of the game is over, and he will either break off for a rest. or go straight into the next part.
He may also initiate that later by approaching you somewhere you feel comfortable.
If he clamps on and digs in his little claws for leverage, and just puts everything he has into the bite, he’s moved into the wrestling phase.
“It’s fight time!” will help him bridge that you understand that this is not a scared or angry bite.
Wrestle him back!
Push against his bite and ruffle him around like you would a small kitten or puppy.
When you get tired of fighting, relax your hand and pay attention to what he is doing.
Wrestling bites are used to maneuver the hen.
They will either be a shove or a tug.
Put up no resistance, and move your hand where he is directing it, while verbally asking “Where are we going?”
After a good wrestle, when you relax, so will his grip, because that feels like a satisfying win, and he just wants to plonk you in the nesty spot.
When his tugs and shoves soften to very fine motions and he;s not pushing or shoving hard in any direction, ask him “Is this where it goes?” and relax.
He may fiddle with your hand a little to work out the perfect position, but once it’s in place, he’ll with draw and watch for a few seconds.
Keep relaxed and then go about your business when he loses interest.
All these verbal questions, when used consistently, help him bridge the gap between what he’s trying to express and what of that you are actually receiving.
Your base line for bite is Fight time, because that’s what it’s most likely to be in a good relationship.
Cocks bond through combat.
If his hackles are up, and he angles his head forward to dig the point of his beak in, chances are he’s actually upset, and not just bond-fighting or startled. This is a disciplinary bite, and it’s meant to hurt enough to get your attention and make you stop what ever you are doing.
The ideal response to this is to give the verbal cue “Wait.” then pause, and while withdrawing, ask “What’s wrong?”
Using this combination of verbal cues to this range of behavior will help him communicate back to you when there has been a misinterpretation, once he has learned them.
Human-social cocks tend to be a LOT more bold about initiating combat with a human than a non-human social bird.
Those tend to be the more extravagantly bitey individuals, especially when it comes to Driving behavior.
Driving is a huge romantic overture in pigeons, meant to impress the hen they like and sweep her off her hot little feet.
The best way to have to keep that brief is to convey back to him that he has, indeed, swept you off your feet and thoroughly impressed you.
Once he’s past the initial combat parts of driving, he’ll settle primarily into the cuddly provider stage and only feel he has to repeat them a few times a year to reaffirm your relationship.
For hands on reference, here is a video of working with MJ, who is not yet sexually mature, and is still in the practicing phase that they first reach around 8-12 weeks old.
youtube
So, at about 7:48, MJ gets up in my lap for a fight.
He is not spooked. He knows where my limbs go in relation to me.
Notice that when I asked if it was fight time and went to push back, he immediately disengaged.
That was a no.
He is not instigating a chase or a wresting match. He knows he’s faster than me, and that I’ll win domination combat.
But he also knows I like him enough to welcome him onto my lap and will only object if he bites me somewhere sensitive like my ears.
He knows to use my hands as an interaction proxy for play fighting, but has nothing really to prove.
So he’s practicing his positioning gently with a willing partner.
As long as I willingly follow his direction, his grip is gentle, because this is an exercise in practice direction, not combat.
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when souls collide
pairing(s): kim seokjin x reader, jung hoseok x park jimin
genre: death parade au, fantasy, horror, angst
word count: 12,810
warnings: death, graphic depictions of extreme drug use, suicidal thoughts
description: Two elevators, two men, two arbiters, and one game; where the stakes are their lives, and secrets will undoubtedly unravel.
“Our guests are here,” Jin stated coldly, the misted reflection of his eyes slowly fading back into their original purple hue, allowing the newly acquired memories to settle their way into his thoughts. You could tell by the strict nature of his voice that today was going to be a difficult choice. You had learned over the past several months of working with the arbiter that he found the decision of dealing with people in their youth quite unsettling, so you could only assume by his expression what today was going to involve. But Jin was a professional, he knew his place, and the importance of his decision.
“So, how do you think today will go?” You asked as yours and Jin’s feet tapped across the black marbled flooring towards the short set of stairs that led to the paired elevators, the sharp resonance of your steps echoing around the hotel bar.
“If it were up to the memories then the choice would be clear, but surprises tend to happen.”
“The choice would be clear?” You asked, curiosity piqued. “One of them must have done something pretty bad then, huh?” You tried to bait him into giving you more information, but he remained silent; typical Jin. He followed the rules completely, and that meant not letting you in on any of the memories of your “guests.” You were to simply observe, not act. At first you found the premise difficult, but over time you had managed to become somewhat desensitized to the decision. But like your elder, you also had a soft spot for young people, so as you made it to the bottom of the short staircase, looking upwards to the separated elevators. You were revealed two young men, and you couldn’t help the sinking feeling that pitted itself deep within your chest.
The boy on the left was on the shorter side, his dark black hair fringing over his forehead. You could tell even from your distance apart that he had kind eyes, the type that gave people comfort in their presence — which was the exact opposite from the boy on the right. His eyes seemed… broken, lackluster, completely dead.
You watched as the two young men looked around the insides of their separate elevators in complete confusion — like anyone would who suddenly woke up in a new place with no recollection of how they got there. They both stepped forward tentatively, since they really had nowhere else to go, and once they made it out of the confinements of their elevators each boy noticed that they were not alone. Their heads turned, eyes connecting, and instant recognition sparked between them.
So they knew each other.
“Hoseok!” The kind-eyed boy yelled as he jogged the short distance towards the apparent Hoseok.
“Jimin,” Hoseok whispered before leaning down and placing a light kiss on the other boy’s lips.
Oh, so they really knew each other.
“Uhm, where the hell are we?” Jimin asked as his eyes began to scan the eerily quiet hotel lobby, until they finally landed on you and Jin standing just down the short set of stairs. “Oh, look there’s people.” He pointed, and Hoseok turned to face the two of you, his vision locking with yours.
Yup, there was definitely something strange about him, and you were going to go out on a limb and say that he was the one Jin was referring to when he said it would be an easy decision if he was allowed to base his judgment off of the memories he was given from the two men.
Jimin suddenly grabbed Hoseok’s wrist, pulling their bodies down the staircase until they were standing before you and Jin. “Excuse me, sir, miss, but uhm… Where exactly are we?” Jimin asked politely, holding a confused expression that honestly just made you want to tell him everything, just so you could save him from the torture of this painful process — but you knew you couldn’t, it was too late for him.
“I’m afraid I can’t tell you that,” Jin replied, and it made Jimin’s face curl into a deeper state of confusion.
“What the hell do you mean you can’t tell us?” Hoseok spat back instantly, an immediate look of rage welling up on his face.
“I simply am not permitted to tell you the whereabouts of this location, because it honestly is unimportant to today’s events.” Jin spoke in his signature monotone voice that he only used with guests. You had tried telling him that it wasn’t the best approach to use in this type of situation, but you were merely an arbiter in training, and he simply stated that ‘he knew what he was doing’.
“Okay then…” Jimin trailed off. “So, can you tell us where the exit is then?”
It was usually the same line of questioning every single time. Where are we? How do we leave? Who the fuck are you people? You know, the normal response to people who are basically holding you captive.
“I’m sorry, you can’t leave,” Jin replied.
“Like hell we can’t leave,” Hoseok quickly fired back. “Come on Jimin, they’re fuckin’ weirdos,” He hissed before pulling Jimin back up the stairs. They began whispering to one another while throwing coupled looks of suspicion over their shoulders towards you and Jin.
“Well, wanna make me a drink while we wait for them come back?” You asked, lightly bumping shoulders with the arbiter.
“You know we can’t drink on the job, Y/N.” He sent a quick smile your way as the two of you made your way back to the bar.
“I don’t get why. It’d make coping with this whole situation a lot easier.” Your voice was somber, but a hand quickly found its way to your lower back as it started to rub comforting circles over your shirt. He shot you a quick and comforting smile before pulling away, but you’d learned very quickly while working with Jin that his tiniest of affections meant much more than what he let on.
When you’d first been assigned to work beside Jin in a random raffle from all of the arbiters at the hotel, he quickly introduced himself. And though your interaction was brief, he seemed like a perfectly fine companion to work alongside. He was polite, gentle, and it didn’t hurt that he was exceedingly handsome. At first he seemed very somber by nature, paired with a quiet temperament, and that admittedly did grate on you at first, but once you learned the workings of this job, you quickly understood why he was the way he was — because honestly how could you not be when you had to do the things he did? You were technically supposed to be training to be able to do this job on your own one day, but watching the toll that it took on Jin every time he had to make his decision is something that you weren’t sure you would ever be able to muster alone.
But you decided to shake the daunting task out of your head as the two of you made your way back around the bar. You leaned your elbows forward against the countertop, nails tapping along the granite. You glanced over, and of course you find Jin standing straight with perfect posture, hands clasped behind his back as he waited patiently for Hoseok and Jimin to return.
“You know, that Hoseok guy looked pretty stubborn, and I don’t think he’s gonna give up looking for a way out, at least not for a little while that is. Why don’t you relax?”
“I am relaxed,” He replied simply, continuing to stare forward, and you couldn’t help the crooked smile that stains your lips because of it. Always so composed, but it was that level of calmness that allowed you to remain comfortable in the total hatred that you had for this wretched situation.
And with that in mind, you wondered how long it would take before the two boys finally came back after they figured out that there was no way to leave. The elevators wouldn’t move for them, at least not yet, and there were no doors or windows to be found. Most people came running back after about ten minutes once they’d finished desperately searching the entirety of the posh hotel lobby and the small second level where their elevators were, only to be thoroughly disappointed by their unfruitful findings. But as you’d told Jin, this Hoseok character didn’t look like he would be the type to give up so easily.
You couldn’t help but wonder what memories Jin had received before their arrival. It was the same every single time. You and Jin were given the orders that new guests would be arriving soon, so you both would quickly make your way to your specified floor of the hotel, where you patiently waited for them. Sometimes it took quite a while for the guests to show up, as you had to wait for the head arbiters to sift through their memories and pick the appropriate amount to give to Jin. You were always curious to know what it felt like to see the montage in your head. Was it choppy and vague, or was it like a movie and completely clear to him.
What had happened to those two boys for them to end up here you wondered. You were always so interested in knowing the details of your guest’s pasts, which is why you didn’t think you would make the best arbiter.
An arbiter in this situation was supposed to make their decision based solely off of the actions that played out during the facilitated game between the guests. They were not supposed to take the memories they receive beforehand into consideration. However, their recollections were given to the arbiter regardless because the block that was put on your guest’s minds before they arrived here wouldn’t last forever. Cracks quickly started to form as the memories of how they ended up here come back to them, and it was helpful to the arbiter to know what they were seeing as the truth began to reveal itself.
With that in mind, you began to ponder what the memories of Hoseok and Jimin could possibly be. What happened in the moments before they were brought here? You so desperately wanted to know, but it looked like that was going to take quite a while. Jin always divulged in your curiosities after both guests left, sharing the memories with you, which sometimes left you confused by his decision, but then he had to keep reminding you that arbiters didn’t make their choices based off of the memories, but instead from the actions from the game.
Speaking of the game, you wondered what would be played today between Jimin and Hoseok to decide their fate. Darts hadn’t been played in a while, maybe it would be that, or possibly—
“Okay, what the fuck is going on here!?”
You looked up to find a livid-looking Hoseok stomping towards the bar. Yeah, this was definitely not going to go well. You noticed Jimin behind him, and he looked scared, as anyone would who finally realized that they were basically trapped in a place unfamiliar to them with absolutely no memory of how they arrived.
Hoseok finally made his way to the bar, slamming his hands down on the surface as anger pooled on his face. “How the hell do you get out of this place?” He hissed.
“We told you before that you weren’t going to be able to leave,” You replied, and it made the scowl on Hoseok’s face deepen.
“H-how did we even get here?” Jimin stuttered.
“I’m sorry. I can’t answer that question,” Jin replied from beside you.
“Well is there anything you can fucking answer then?” Hoseok growled.
“I can tell you that you have been brought here with the purpose of playing a game, and you cannot leave until that game is completed. Anything beyond that, I’m afraid I cannot speak of.”
“A game? What kind of game?” Jimin asked.
“Bowling,” Jin replied.
Ah, it had been a while since that game was played. It was one of the more intense options, but it was almost guaranteed to get a spark going between the guests, which is exactly what Jin needed to make his decision.
“Okay seriously, what the hell is wrong with you people?” Hoseok barked across the bar.
“I’m sorry, sir. Those are the rules,” Jin stated calmly.
“That’s it, I’m going to—” Hoseok leaned over the counter, snatching at Jin’s tie, but you’re quick to act, grabbing him by the wrist to twist his arm into a position of almost near breakage.
“Shit, fuck, fuck, fuck!” Hoseok yelled as the pain quelled in his elbow.
“No, stop! Please don’t hurt him!” Jimin pleaded next to him, and you loosened your hold but only slightly.
“Are you going to listen to what we have to say?” You asked, and Hoseok quickly nodded his head. You released his arm and he snatched it back to try and soothe the pain.
It wasn’t uncommon for guests to get violent due to the fact that you weren't allowed to give them answers to any of the questions they had, so you were usually the one to resolve the situation quickly before it could get out of hand.
“Jin,” You said, motioning for him to continue his spiel to Jimin and Hoseok.
“Thank you, Y/N.” He lightly smiled before returning to the two boys. “I understand that you’re upset about the lack of answers, but I promise once the game is finished everything will be clear, and the two of you will be allowed to go.”
“So… You want us to play a game of bowling, and then we can just… go?” Jimin asked hesitantly.
“Yes.”
You watched Jimin turn to Hoseok who was still rubbing his elbow in pain. “Hoseok, maybe we should just do the stupid game and get it over with.”
“Jimin, are you kidding? They’re obviously psychos who get off on this shit.” He whispered, shooting a deadly stare your way.
“Okay, but we have no idea where we are or how we even got here, so there’s really no other option. What’s the last thing you remember anyways?” Jimin asked.
Hoseok paused, and the two boys stood there thinking for about a minute or so before Hoseok finally gained a look of realization on his face.
“Wait, weren’t we on our way to Jungkook’s party?” Hoseok asked, and then Jimin’s eyes widened.
“Yeah, you’re right! I think I remember us getting ready?”
“I don’t know, it’s like… we blacked out or something,” Hoseok said, ruffling his hair as he tried to wrack his brain for the rest of his memory.
“I told you once you started playing the game that it would become clearer to you,” Jin comments, and it made the two boys snap their heads to look at him.
“Wait… Are you saying the reason we can’t remember is because of you?” Jimin asked with narrowing eyes. “What the fuck did you do to us?” It looked like Jimin’s temper was finally catching up to Hoseok’s, but really who could blame either of them.
“I’m sorry. I can’t answer that question,” Jin started before rounding the bar and making his way towards the side-hall, “but if you would like to follow me, we can begin the game, and get the two of you on your way.”
You watched the two boys gain baffled expressions as you went around the bar to follow Jin. You observed them carefully as their pissed off expressions quickly turned frightened, realizing the situation they were in, or at least the situation that they thought they were in.
“Hoseok, I’m fucking scared. We seriously can’t remember anything, and now these psychos want us to play some game, like… what the hell is going on? They kidnapped us from somewhere. Dammit, why can’t we remember anything?” You overheard Jimin whisper frantically.
“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay, just calm down,” Hoseok whispered as he pulled Jimin into his chest. “You know I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”
The softness of Hoseok’s words surprised you. You didn’t realize that you had stopped to stare at their embrace until Hoseok’s head snaps up, locking eyes with you.
“What the fuck are you staring at?” He hissed, pulling Jimin’s head closer into his shoulder.
“S-sorry,” You stuttered before leaving the two boys to have one of their last moments alone together, the soft whispers of their unknowing final I love yous making your heart brim with grief.
----
You pushed open the door that held the two lanes designated for bowling. It was a pretty plain set-up, black marbled walls and flooring just like the hotel lobby, no furniture, completely barren apart from the arrangements of the game.
You looked up to find Jin waiting patiently by the bowling-ball dispenser. You tried to hide your pained expression as you walked towards him, but Jin knew you too well, and that meant knowing when something was on your mind.
“What’s wrong?” He asked as you made your way by his side.
You knew there was no point in lying because he always managed to see right through you anyways.
“Nothing… They’re young and in love, and I just wish this wasn’t happening to them.”
“You know you’re going to make a terrible arbiter, right?”
You rolled your eyes at his words. “Don’t act like you don’t get emotional over this, Jin. I don’t even know how they ended up here or what their memories are, and it still upsets me thinking about what we’re about to do to them, so I know it’s even worse for you.” You watched his eyes flicker with slight emotion that he didn’t like showing on the job as the memories that were given to him probably danced through his mind once more.
“You’re right, it’s hard, but someone has to do it.” He shrugged, like this was nothing, like he was simply picking which one had to get thrown in a dunk-tank. But you knew him better than that, and you knew the toll it took on him. The many nights you had to spend comforting him after a tough decision seared into your mind, and you always silently wished that you could help take the burden away from him without actually having to do this job yourself — but it was like Jin said, someone had to do it.
“Well, you know I’ll be there when you need me,” You said before reaching your hand out to give him a light squeeze, hoping that the contact or words would grant him some form of comfort going forward.
“Thanks, Y/N,” He whispered, returning the pressure of your touch, but you could still hear darkness lacing his voice as he forced a small upward twitch of his lips your way.
“You know you don’t have to fake it around me,” You reminded him for what felt like the millionth time since you’d met.
“I know, but I just want you to be happy for as long as you can before you have to start doing this without me.” Your fingers stiffened in his at the thought, and he was quickly rubbing comforting circles along the top of your hand to soothe over your worries. After that the two of you stayed silent for a couple of minutes, fingers dancing along the spaces of the other’s hand until the inevitable finally happened.
Jimin and Hoseok pushed open the door causing yours and Jin’s hands to quickly pull away from one another. You watched the way Hoseok entered first with his arm protectively holding Jimin behind him, but even through his bravery you could still see the hint of fear invading his eyes.
“Okay, we’re ready to play your stupid game, and then we can go, right?” Hoseok asked.
“As promised,” Jin answered.
The two boys walked closer, eyeing the two-lanes carefully along their way. From the outside it probably just looked like a regular game of bowling, but they are going to quickly learn that it is far from it.
“Okay, let’s just get this shit over with,” Hoseok said as he walked over to the ball dispenser and then towards his lane, Jimin followed quickly behind him.
“I think I should let you know the rules first,” Jin cut in before Hoseok could start his motion to throw the ball.
“It’s just bowling. I don’t need a rundown,” Hoseok snapped.
“Well in regular bowling, yes, but there’s something you should know before you start—” But Hoseok didn’t listen to a word Jin said, and instead he brought his arm back before releasing the ball forward, the course straight and fast down the center of the lane.
This was not good.
The ball hit directly in the middle at an incredible speed, sending all of the pins crashing to the ground except for one
“Alright,” Hoseok said before turning around. “Think you can beat that, babe—” But Hoseok’s attempt at trying to create light of the situation is cut short when an earth-shattering scream slices through the air.
You clamped down on your lip as the sound of Jimin’s pained voice wrapped around your heart. His body toppled to the ground as blood began spilling past his lips, red stains splattering against the flooring. His muscles tensed in pain as everything in his body spasmed wildly within him.
“Jimin! W-what’s wrong, oh my god. Hey, look at me, look at me, look at me,” Hoseok repeated frantically with panicked eyes as he pulled Jimin’s crumpled body against his chest. “Jimin, what happened?”
Jimin paused as the tremors infecting his body slowly disappeared. “I-I don’t know. I was fine,” he coughed, more blood appearing in the palm of his hand. “But then everything just started hurting, I don’t know how to explain it,” He panted slightly.
“What the hell, I don’t—” Hoseok suddenly paused mid-sentence before looking up and throwing daggers towards you and Jin. “You,” He seethed as he gently unwrapped himself from Jimin’s body.
It was so quick, one second Jin was standing next to you, and the next Hoseok had him pinned against the wall.
“What the fuck did you do to him!?” He screamed, and you quickly ran towards the two men.
“We tried explaining the rules, but you wouldn’t listen,” You said as you tried pulling Hoseok away from the arbiter, but he wasn’t budging.
“What the fuck does this stupid game have to do with what just happened?” He hissed.
“If you let go of me, I’ll tell you,” Jin replied calmly.
You could see the absolute rage congregating on Hoseok’s face as he reluctantly loosened his grip on Jin’s shirt.
“It’s the same as normal bowling. You get ten frames, ten pins per frame — the only difference is the significance behind each pin.”
Hoseok narrowed his eyes in confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Each pin represents a body part or internal organ, the heart, kidneys, lungs, and so on. You just so happened to knock down nine pins, so in turn the nine correlated body parts that you hit were transferred to Jimin, resulting in the pain he just felt.”
Complete silence followed.
Jin had done this enough times by now to know that it didn’t matter how he phrased it, because regardless the guests were going to be in shock and disbelief at the new revelation that sounded absolutely impossible.
“Okay, cut the bullshit, that’s not possible, so what the hell is really going on here?” He growled.
“If you don’t believe me you can try again, and if you hit your last pin, and the same thing happens then you can decide for yourself.”
Hoseok’s jaw clenched at Jin’s response before he slowly backed away, returning to Jimin’s side.
“Hey,” He whispered softly as he kneeled to the ground, placing a feather-light touch against Jimin’s cheek. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine now. Don’t worry…” He paused, “but do you believe them?” He asked, motioning his head towards you and Jin.
“I-I don’t know. I mean I don’t want to because that’s just insane, but… what else could have hurt you like that?”
You watched as silence muddled between the two boys as they tried to figure out what could possibly have caused Jimin’s sudden jolt of pain.
“Well… There’s only one way to find out,” Jimin finally spoke. “Go hit the last pin, I know you can do it. You always beat me in bowling.” He tried to laugh, but it came out broken and nervous.
“Jimin, fuck no. Even if there were a zero percent chance that they were telling the truth I still wouldn’t risk hurting you. You should know that.”
The sweet sentiment actually made your heart clench a bit, but you suddenly heard a slight whisper of words beneath Jin’s breath. “Yeah, you have a funny way of showing it,” He mumbled, and it made your eyes widen.
“What did you just say?” You whispered.
He must have not realized he actually said the words out loud because he looked just as surprised as you.
“N-nothing,” He stuttered.
That was definitely strange. Jin was always composed when it came to work, and he never let the memories he was given affect the decision, but it looked like what Hoseok had done was really grating on the arbiter.
“We’re not playing your fucked up game,” Hoseok said.
“Well I’m simply meant to facilitate the game, so unfortunately I can’t let you leave until it’s finished,” Jin replied.
Wicked anger flickered behind Hoseok’s eyes. He didn’t speak for about a minute, and you could tell by the way his hands were clenching at his sides that his anger was starting to boil over again. But suddenly there was a look of realization that washed over his face, and he quickly stood up from his kneeled position next to Jimin.
“Okay, I’ll just gutterball the whole damn thing then.” He said suddenly, and then Hoseok was standing up, grabbing a bowling ball, and tossing it straight into the gutter just like he said he would.
This was actually a very common response to the games that your guests were made to play. They figure if they just throw the game no one will get hurt, and usually that sentiment works — until the memories start to come back, and speaking of, that should be happening right about… now.
“Holy shit,” Jimin hissed, clutching at his head.
“What’s wrong?” Hoseok asked, quickly making his way back to Jimin’s side.
“I-I think I remember more stuff from the party,” He said hesitantly.
And that was it.
Once one memory made a crack in the block on their minds, the rest of the pieces came crumbling down quickly enough. And there was still plenty of time left in the game for someone to start showing their true colors.
“Really? What happened, do you know how we got here?” Hoseok asked, a look of hope gracing his features for the first time since being here.
“No, I just remember when we first got there. We were kissing in the car, and then we went into the house. We started talking to Jungkook, and then I went off to hang out with Taehyung.”
“Wait, I think I do remember that!” Hoseok said with a look of relief at finally being able to recall something. “Yeah, you went to talk to Tae about that money he owed you, and then me and Jungkook kept talking, and then—” He suddenly stopped mid-sentence.
You watched the two boys carefully, and you see that Jimin doesn’t notice, but you definitely do. A look of fear flashes on Hoseok’s face, his eyes widening slightly as he remembers something from the party, and you can see it, the slight panic dancing in his irises.
“And… yeah, that’s all I remember.” He says, and you cock your head to the side.
What could he be hiding? This was a serious situation, and there were only a couple of things that you could think of that someone would want to hide from their significant other. Cheating, maybe? What else could be so bad that he wouldn’t tell Jimin about it once he remembered?
“Maybe our memory will come back the more we play the game. I know that sounds crazy, but what else do we have to go on? Plus, we can just keep doing gutter balls until it’s over.” Jimin proposed.
Hoseok hesitated a bit before answering. “Uhm, yeah we can give it a shot.”
It looks like Hoseok was actually afraid for more memories to come back now that he knew a little piece of what he had been doing at the party.
“Okay,” Jimin said as he stood up from his seated position on the ground. He quickly grabbed a bowling ball, throwing it into the gutter the second he was close enough to his lane. Once that one was done he did it again, ending his first frame.
They both waited a couple of seconds.
“Anything?” Jimin asked.
“N-no not yet.” Hoseok replied.
You weren’t sure if Hoseok had gained any new memories yet, or if he just felt guilty about withholding the first one. All you knew was that he was definitely nervous.
You watched Hoseok get up and repeat the process of throwing the ball into the gutter to end his frame. And this cycle repeated, leaving the two boys with unfruitful findings.
You watched the two boys carefully, trying to catch some sort of realization from either of them. You wanted so desperately to know what the hell had happened at that party. You looked over at Jin, who was looking calm as always.
“Are you sure you can’t tell me anything?” You whispered to him.
He turned his head slightly, a look of are you really asking me that flashing through his eyes. “We’ve been together for almost a year now, so I think you already know the answer to that.”
“I just want to know why they’re here.”
You didn’t expect Jin to reply to this, so when a response leaves his mouth, it puzzles you.
“Weakness and naïvete,” He whispered.
“What?” You asked in a complete surprise.
“That’s why they’re here, weakness and naïvete.” He said simply without adding anything else.
“How vague.”
Jin simply chuckled in response to this, giving you no more hints regarding the two boys who were now on their second frame of bowling.
Weakness and naïvete, you thought to yourself. What could that mean? Who was weak, and who was naïve, and how did those qualities cause them to end up here?
Your mind was racing as you tried to decipher the crypticism behind Jin’s hint, but you really couldn’t come up with anything based on just the two words alone. This only made you more frustrated, maybe you shouldn’t have asked him at all —
“Wait, I-I think I’m remembering something!”
Your head snapped to the side, the sudden proclamation coming from Jimin. You zeroed in on his expression trying to find some trace of a hint hidden on his features.
“What is it?” Hoseok asked, nervousness still lining his face.
“It’s not really helpful. I just remember it was a little while after we first got there, and I found Jungkook and asked if he’d seen you anywhere. He said he hadn’t seen you for about an hour.” Jimin paused for a moment, a confused look blossoming in his eyes. “But he looked…”
“He looked what?” Hoseok prodded.
“He looked… nervous, or worried maybe. I can’t really tell.”
“Oh… that’s weird.” Hoseok said hesitantly, a look of guilt invading his eyes.
Still hiding something, huh? Was this kid ever going to fess up to what he did?
“But… I’m sure it was nothing. I was pretty drunk, so I’m probably just remembering things that weren’t there.” Jimin tried to laugh off his presumptions, but you could tell from his skeptical expression that he was starting to see through Hoseok’s false cry of not remembering much.
“Yeah I’m sure it was nothing.” Hoseok laughed. “I just remember the two of us going to the backyard, and Namjoon was there, and… yeah that was pretty much it.”
“You’re sure that’s all you remember?” Jimin asked, and there was only a slight edge in his voice that you would only pick up on if you were really listening, or if you were really looking at the way his sight narrowed at Hoseok who was trying to keep his eyes on anything except for Jimin.
“Yeah,” Hoseok replied simply.
“Fine, let’s keep going then.”
Hoseok hesitantly walked towards the bowling ball dispenser, a noticeable lag in his step, like he would do anything he could just to prolong this moment of their memories finally clicking into place.
But eventually he did end his turn, and almost immediately Jimin was ready to start his own, and you could see the look of deep-seated doubt that was clouding his thoughts as he impatiently waited for the memories to come back to him.
And this continued on… for their third frame — nothing.
Fourth frame, nothing.
Fifth frame, nothing.
Sixth frame —nothing.
Seventh frame — click.
Jimin threw his last ball of the seventh frame into the gutter, and then it was like time stopped for the two men, and they both froze.
“W-what do you remember?” Hoseok stuttered.
“I remember…” Jimin paused, narrowing his eyes, like he was confused at the memory. “Finding you in the car after a while, and you looked—” But Jimin couldn’t finish because Hoseok was quickly cutting in.
“J-Jimin, before you say anything else, I’m sorry. I-I was stupid, a fucking idiot, and it was just for tonight I promise, and—” Hoseok tried spouting off a rushed apology for whatever he had done that he knew he could no longer hide, but Jimin clearly wasn’t having it.
“I thought I was just imagining it because I was drunk, but it’s like in this memory I can see you clearly, and your eyes are just so glassy, but not the drunk kind, they were the—” Jimin suddenly paused, a look of rage pooling on his features, “—you son of fucking bitch.” He suddenly hissed, making your eyes widen as he ran towards Hoseok, pushing against his chest roughly.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Hoseok began repeating the mantra as he buried his face in his hands, almost in shame.
“What the hell were you thinking you goddamn idiot? I told you to stop messing around with that shit, you almost died last time Hoseok, do you not get that!? And now where the hell are we?” He yelled, making the elder boy flinch.
Ah drugs, so that was the weakness that Jin was referring to, but you still wondered how did that manage to lead here.
“I know, I’m sorry, I honestly haven’t done them since I overdosed last year… I’ve been doing good, b-but Yoongi was there… a-and — fuck I’m so sorry. I don’t know how we got here, but I promise when we get back I’ll make it up to you, I’m seriously so fucking sorry.” Hoseok breathed, a watery sheen starting to collect in his eyes.
“Yoongi?” Jimin asked in disbelief. “Yoongi was there?”
“Yeah,” Hoseok whispered, dropping his head in shame.
“Why did I ever think you could change? Just bowl the fucking ball, Hoseok.” Jimin clipped, anger clinging to his body.
The words made Hoseok practically curl into a ball, and you could see the dam holding back his tears starting to break. He looked like a puppy with his tail between his legs, and you admittedly did feel sorry for him. ‘Why did I ever think you could change,’ that was pretty harsh, even if Jimin did have the right to feel that way given the circumstances.
“Jimin, I—” Hoseok tried to start.
“Roll. The. Damn. Ball..” Jimin growled through clenched teeth. “I wanna know what the hell you did for us to end up here.”
You could see Jimin’s face morph into a look of worry, but it was also mixed with something else, and you silently wondered if he had figured it out already. A lot of people do get it before they are actually shown the moment, and you hated the fact that he was going to have to see it regardless.
You watched as Hoseok picked up his bowling ball, throwing it into the gutter, and then once more, ending his half of the eighth. The two of them wait for something to come to them, but nothing does.
Hoseok stands in place for a couple of seconds before he works up the courage to speak. “Jimin, p-please, I really am sorr—”
“I don’t care if you’re sorry.” Jimin replies coldly. “If we get out of here… I’m done with this.” And then he sent his first gutter ball down the lane.
No you idiot, that’s what you thought to yourself as you watched Jimin ignore everything Hoseok was saying. Just tell him that you love him, and that whatever he did doesn’t matter, just… be happy together one last time — but that unfortunately doesn’t happen. Instead Hoseok is left alone with his own regretful thoughts as Jimin finished his turn, bringing them into the eighth frame.
After that, you can almost tangibly feel the moment coming. It was like there was a shift in the air, or a calmness before the storm, and your heart started to race as you waited for the two boys, the two friends, and the two lovers to realize what had happened for them to end up here.
Your ability to breathe felt muted, like every inhale was harder to obtain, and it’s only the light squeeze of Jin’s hand against your palm that brings you out of it. You turn your head, and he’s trying to give you a look of comfort. You throw him the tiniest of forced smile’s before returning your sights to Jimin and Hoseok.
They still aren’t speaking as Jimin starts his part of the eighth frame. He throws his first gutterball and you bite the inside of your lip. It was coming, the beautiful facade was about to be broken. You watched as Jimin threw his final shot of the eighth frame, and then everything shattered.
A high-pitched sob cuts through the air, and you find it coming from Jimin who is lying crumpled against the ground. You watched Hoseok run up to him, hands placed on the younger’s shoulders.
“J-Jimin, what’s wrong?” He asked with frantic and confused eyes.
Hoseok clearly hadn’t gotten the memory yet.
Jimin stayed quiet for about a minute, light cries leaving his mouth as he began desperately pulling at the strands of his hair, until he finally raised his head to look at Hoseok, tears streaming his face, and fury burning in his eyes.
And then after that it all happens really fast.
You gasp when Jimin lunges forward, pushing Hoseok back against the floor, raising his fist back, and slamming it against the side of Hoseok’s jaw.
“Jimin, what the hell!?” Hoseok yelled.
Jimin lands a couple of punches before Hoseok can grab a hold of Jimin’s wrists, reversing their positions. Jimin was now pinned back against the floor as the elder hovered above him.
“Jimin, what the hell is wrong!?” He gasped.
Jimin thrashed beneath him for a couple of seconds before he finally gave up, letting his body go limp against the floor, because he was probably thinking, what was the point in fighting anyways. His breathing was labored and tears were continuing to fall down his face.
“You didn’t get the memory?” Jimin whispered eerily.
“No? W-what happened? Did you see how we got here, what did I do, I promise whatever it was I’ll fix it—”
“Hoseok, you can’t fix it,” Jimin said in a voice that almost was void of emotion.
“W-what do you mean? Of course I can…” He trailed off when he saw the seriousness that was held on Jimin’s face. “Jimin... what did I do?”
He stared Hoseok down, and even from your distance you could see the look of pure hatred that was being conveyed through that single look alone.
It was like everything stalled for a single second as the two boys stared back at one another, emotions running haywire, until finally Jimin spoke, breaking the silence, and breaking the spell.
“You killed us, Hoseok. You fucking killed us.”
----
Five Hours Earlier.
“Babe…” Jimin trailed off as Hoseok began placing light pecks down the side of his neck. “If you keep this up we’re not even going to make it inside to the party,” He whispered with a slight hitch in his breath as Hoseok remained in his position of leaning over the center console.
“Well maybe we should just go back to the house then.” Hoseok playfully mused against Jimin’s skin.
Jimin paused before answering, clearly taking the option into consideration. “As much as I would love that, we already promised we’d come, and we’re already here so we have to at least go inside.” He said, pointing to the house with the packed lawn and driveway that was filled with dozens of cars around them.
Hoseok let out a sigh of disappointment as he pulled away from Jimin and back towards the driver’s seat. “Fine,” He said, not even trying to hide the disappointment in his voice.
“Don’t pout you big baby.” Jimin teased, reaching across the car to lightly pinch the elder’s cheek. Hoseok tried to keep up his disgruntled expression, but after a couple of seconds he broke, and a slight grin began staining his lips. “See, you can’t stay upset around me, can you?” Jimin smiled.
“Nope, I definitely can’t.” The elder boy paused for a second before continuing. “Which is why you’re so good for me, and one of the many reasons why I love you so much.” Hoseok brought his hand up to lace it with Jimin’s, and he can see the slight flush of color that was making its way to the younger’s face.
“Fuckin’ cheeseball.” Jimin hummed as he ran his fingers through his hair with a nervous smile gracing his face. They had been together long enough for Hoseok to know that it just meant Jimin wasn’t sure how to express his actual feelings in words, and Hoseok was perfectly fine with that.
“Well you’re the one that’s in love with a cheeseball.” The elder boy quipped.
Jimin lightly batter him against the chest. “Well come on you cheesy bastard everyone’s waiting on us inside.”
Hoseok simply smiled in response before they both exited the car. He rounded the vehicle, quickly filling the empty spaces between Jimin’s fingers with his own before they walked towards the house. The second they entered the front door they were met with yells of their names. When they looked up, they found the host of the party rushing towards them.
“Finally, what the hell took you guys so long?” Jungkook asked.
“Don’t be ungrateful. You’re lucky we came at all, brat.” Hoseok emphasized towards the younger jokingly.
“Okay, play nice you two.” Jimin chimed in.
“You know we’re just teasing.” Jungkook chuckled.
“So who else is here?” Hoseok asked as he looked around the crowded living room of people. He could see that the house was already overflowing past the brim with bodies. Loud, bass-enriched beats reverberated against the insides of everyone’s chest as alcohol splattered onto the hardwood floors.
“Taehyung got here a little while ago.” Jungkook pointed to a corner where Taehyung was casually sipping on a drink while talking to some people.
“That fucker owes me twenty dollars, I’ll be right back!” Jimin said suddenly, leaning up to press a light peck to Hoseok’s lips before making his way through the crowd.
Jungkook and Hoseok simply smiled in amusement as they watched Jimin run off before they turned back to face each other.
“And then—” Jungkook began saying before suddenly stopping mid-sentence with a look of worry covering his face.
“What’s wrong?”
Jungkook paused for a moment, biting at his lower lip nervously before replying. “Well, since Jimin isn’t here I guess I’ll tell you. I just didn’t want him to freak out or anything. I knew you guys were coming, so I didn’t even tell him about tonight, but then he just showed up, and…”
“Who?” Hoseok asked.
“...Yoongi,” Jungkook answered hesitantly, and the name makes Hoseok visibly stiffen.
“Oh,” Hoseok whispered.
“Do you think you’ll be alright? I get it if you wanna leave.”
Hoseok quickly begins to shake his head. “N-no, it’s been a year. I’m clean, I can handle myself.” Hoseok shrugged casually, even though the mentioning of Yoongi’s name was already making a slight tingle run through the palms of his hands as they remembered feelings of the drug-induced numbness that he associated with the cold-eyed man.
Jimin had known about Hoseok’s drug habit before they’d even started dating, but he most certainly didn’t approve or condone it, especially due to the frequency that he would find Hoseok passed out around an empty bottle that Yoongi had sold him for cheap. Of course Jimin had voiced these concerns, but Hoseok would brush them off as the younger simply being too worried, and so Jimin decided to just believe him — and if you asked Jimin he would say that he’d never regretted anything more in his entire life.
Jimin remembered it clearly even though he so desperately wanted to forget. He wasn’t sure if it was the muffled sounds of Hoseok choking on his own vomit, or the convulsions of his body due to the seizure that woke him up that night. He panicked, shaky fingers calling for an ambulance as sobs ripped from his throat. It was something that he was never going to forget no matter how much he wanted to.
Once Hoseok recovered from almost dying due to the overdose, Jimin gave him an ultimatum; give up the pills, the smack, everything, or it was over between them, because he knew he wouldn’t be able to handle dealing with that ever again. Hoseok loved Jimin more than he’s ever loved anyone in his entire life, so the choice was easy, but the path to fixing his problem was anything but that. It was a long string of months involving withdrawals and mood swings, Jimin being there for Hoseok through it all.
After a while it did eventually get better, Hoseok no longer felt like he was in desperate need to find his high. It took a long time for him to build himself back up, but he knew it was only possible because of Jimin.
But now here they were a year later, and Hoseok could feel the callings of his demons swimming in the back of his mind, just from the simple mention of Yoongi’s name alone. Back then, Hoseok probably would have considered Yoongi to be a friend, but in retrospect he realized that they were just enablers to each other, with Yoongi being the supplier to their deadly addiction.
But he was fine, it had been a year, and like Hoseok had said, he was good, he could handle himself… right?
“Okay, I just wanted to make sure.” Jungkook said giving him a light squeeze on the shoulder. “Come on, I just saw Namjoon pass by.”
“Cool,” Hoseok replied simply, following behind Jungkook as he tried to push the idea of Yoongi out of his mind, and what he knew was hiding deep within his old acquaintance’s pockets somewhere in the house.
-----
“Joon, what in the actual fuck are you even talking about?” Jungkook asked, laughing from the semicircle of lawn chairs that were set up around the backyard that Hoseok had found himself at.
“Human existentialism,” Namjoon responded simply, from his snow angel position on the concrete. Eyes closed, and a blissful — albeit drunk — expression resting on his face.
Jungkook narrowed his eyes. “Bro, you were literally talking about zoo animals.”
At that Namjoon sat up quickly, the first time he’d made a move to leave the ground since he’d flopped down there about forty-five minutes ago when Jungkook and Hoseok followed him outside.
“It’s called a metaphor, you fucking imbecile,” He exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air.
“First of all, chill. That was rude,” Jungkook started. “Second of all, so we’re the animals in this so-called metaphor then?”
“We are the animals, the cages, and the onlookers.”
Jungkook sat further back in his chair, brows furrowed. “...Bitch, what?”
Hoseok let out a snort, with beer spilling out of the comers of his mouth.
Namjoon sat there for a second, looking like he was thinking of saying something insightful, until he finally just flopped back onto his back. “Bro, I don’t know, I’m fuckin’ fucked up. Just let me lay here.”
“Will do, brother.” Jungkook simply smiled and raised his solo cup at their inebriated friend.
“God, he cracks me up when he’s like this,” Hoseok said.
“A+ entertainment,” Jungkook responded. “Where’s Jimin? He’s been gone awhile.”
“He’s probably still harassing Tae for his twenty bucks. Jimin’s such a stickler about money.”
“Dude, trust me I know. Forgot my debit card the other day when we went to the gas station, so I asked him to spot me for a drink. Motherfucker still made me pay him back. It’s seventy-five cents!”
Hoseok laughed, because Jimin would indeed do something like that. “I should go find him though, honestly. Make sure he’s not already dancing on top of your bar already.”
“Hey, let the people have their show. You get to see it all the time.”
“Yeah, and I never get tired of it,” Hoseok said as he lifted himself out of his chair. “I wanna see the show too.”
Jungkook smiled at that. “Well, go enjoy the show for me. I’m gonna sit here with this one to make sure he doesn’t think he grew wings and can nosedive off my roof.” He motioned to Namjoon, who was still lying down and mumbling philosophicals to himself.
“Okay, catch you later.” Hoseok started towards the sliding glass door, but stopped suddenly. “Actually, gotta piss first.” He silently motioned to Jungkook that he was going around to the side of the house.
He walked through the damp grass. It had been raining on and off pretty much all day, making for a slightly muddy trek.
“Godammit,” Hoseok whispered as the patches of taller grass soaked the ends of his jeans.
He unzipped his pants and began going about his business. He started to hear people talking around the front of the house, some of them spilling past the corner where he could make out a few vague figures. It was dark, the only light coming through one frosted window.
He finished up, zipping his pants and getting ready to go around to the back again, when a familiar, icy voice called out his name.
“Is that Jung Hoseok?”
Hoseok stiffened as he looked into the distance at the voice of his past. He felt frozen as the physical manifestations of his demons began to walk towards him.
“Yoongi,” Hoseok whispered eerily,
“Hoseok, long time no see, man.” Yoongi replied with a friendly smile before walking towards him and wrapping his arm around Hoseok’s shoulders.
The action makes him stiffen more. Hoseok hadn’t seen Yoongi in a little over a year, but it was like his body still knew exactly what he represented. His hands were already starting to grow a slight shake as they reveled in the nostalgia of the highs they used to sustain while with Yoongi.
“Hey… What’s up?” Hoseok tried to ask in a steady voice, but he still sounded hesitant in his own ears.
“Same old, same old really.”
“Oh, yeah?” Hoseok said simply, forcing a faux smile.
“What about you? Haven’t seen you in forever.”
“Uhm… Just living life I guess. Nothing crazy.”
Hoseok could tell that his body language looked uncomfortable. Hands shoved in his pockets, head tilted down; trying anything to avoid Yoongi’s stare — but in the end, that was his demise.
“You look tense, man.” He gave Hoseok’s shoulder a squeeze. They hadn’t even been in front of each other sixty seconds, and the man in front of him was already shifting his stance to do just what Yoongi does — ruin.
But then again, maybe Hoseok wasn’t all that different.
Yoongi began to reach into his pocket, the motion so familiar.
“W-wait, I-I don’t—” Hoseok started to say, but the bag of familiar powder was already being dangled in front of his face. His hands twitching forward, the only thing keeping him from snatching the bag being the guilt that laid cemented in the back of his head.
“It’s speedball.” Yoongi smiled, and even though it wasn’t possible, Hoseok swore he couldn’t see the whites of his eye; a demon offering him his vice. “Your favorite.”
“I…” He started, trying to find the right words. It was so simple, just fucking say no and go back inside and find the guy that matters a billion times more than some bag of smack and coke. “I don’t really do that anymore because of what happened last year.”
There, he said it, and yet he still wasn’t walking away.
“Oh, you’re actually completely off? I thought it was just something you were telling everybody to make them not worry after your OD.” Yoongi stepped back a little, the bag still in his hand.
“Nah, not in a year. Not even pills.” Why did Hoseok sound so sad saying that?
“Damn, good for you,” Yoongi said, though it came off as less than genuine.
“Yeah, well, it’s still hard,” He admitted.
“I bet. I sure as hell couldn’t do it.” Yoongi stood there for a second, just looking at Hoseok with this look on his face saying, ‘I’ll respect your decision, but I also won’t stop you if you change your mind.’
“Yeah, it’s… Just, yeah.”
Yoongi let out a long sigh. “Well, I’m going to the car really quick to do some if you change your mind.” He stuffed the bag back into his pocket, and Hoseok felt like he had just lost something.
Seriously, what the fuck was wrong with him?
It was like he was in a movie. On one shoulder, there was Jimin, all pure and good; an angel telling him not to do this. And on the other was Yoongi; a devil telling him that it would be fine.
Hoseok wanted the angel to win. He wanted to be swallowed whole by that blinding light that would cast away these shadows, but that was exactly where he was at this very moment. Surrounded by darkness and influence, he felt himself caving beneath his desires.
“See ya around.” Yoongi went to turn around and leave, and before Hoseok realized what he was doing, he felt his hand come down on Yoongi’s shoulder; stopping him.
“I-I… Are you just snorting it, or shooting up?”
Yoongi turned around, a true monster’s grin stitched across his lips.
“We can snort if that makes you feel better.”
“Just…” Hoseok hates himself. “Just a little bit.”
“Yeah, totally. Just a little bit.”
————
In the end, Hoseok knew he was lying to himself? Just a little bit? He didn’t know that concept when it came to this kind of stuff.
The second that phone screen was looming in front of his face he knew he was done for. Those perfectly spaced lines and that rolled up bill in his hand, which might of well have been a gun.
“Here,” Yoongi said simply as he placed the phone on the center console between them.
Hoseok’s heart was racing in his chest; mouth watering like a wild, demented animal. The sad part was that he didn’t even need to be coaxed. He brought that bill down and followed that thick line of powder until it was gone and ripping through his body like a hellstorm.
He sat back for a minute, head resting back as he closed his eyes. And when that euphoric feeling hit, it hit.
He hated that he loved this feeling so much. He hated that he was in this situation at all. He hated that when Yoongi said “Go ahead, you can do another,” he did without a single second of hesitation.
And he did another and another, until eventually he wasn’t even sure of how much of that shit was running rampant through his blood. He didn’t know how long he’d been in the car with Yoongi. He didn’t know anything other than the familiar feelings of hazy elation.
He remembered in bits that he and Yoongi were having some fragments of conversation. Nothing of substance, just high talk. But eventually he was able to have one slight moment of clarity. His eyes darting to the screen that was still covered in bits of dust, the time staring back at him.
“Fuck, it’s that late?” Hoseok slurred.
“Yeah, you forget how fast time flys on this stuff?”
“I-I gotta go. Jimin’s gonna look for me… Probably already is.” The last part settled a pang in his chest, but it was eaten by the feelings of those greedy drugs.
“Gotcha.” Yoongi nodded, letting his head slump back as he pulled the lever on the side of his seat to make it fall back, his facial expressions showing off just how much he was basking in his high. “It was good seeing you, man.”
“Yeah, uh, you too,” Hoseok mumbled before climbing out of the car as fast as he could without falling.
He could barely walk. The weakness in his legs, not wanting to keep him upright. He had to make it to the car, he thought. He couldn’t go back into the party looking like this. Jimin would know in a second. Maybe he could sleep it off a little, before Jimin found him.
He eventually made it to the car, leaning all of his weight against it, just so he wouldn’t collapse into the muddy ground. He managed to fall inside. His skin, eyes, everything was buzzing. Fuck, he needed to shake this off. His thoughts were a complete mess, not a single coherent thought. He knew he needed to look like he had some semblance of having his shit together before he found Jimin, but he honestly didn’t know how long that would take.
He felt himself going in and out. In and out. The cocaine bringing him up and the heroin taking him down, and it just repeated over and over.
In between the ebbs and flows, Hoseok was having some thoughts. Broken, albeit, but still there. It was mostly just him thinking about what a fuck up he was. How in the hell did he let this happen? He made it so easy too. He didn’t even try to say no. After all the shit he put Jimin through, and here he was, high out of his goddamn mind. Maybe he should’ve just died a year ago, maybe that would have just been better for everyone.
He felt himself going out again. It could have been minutes or hours since he’d gotten to his car. He truly didn’t know, and honestly didn’t want to know. But that was just a wish, because it felt like an explosive bomb went off inside of Hoseok’s body when someone suddenly began to bang on the window next to his head. He was so fucked up that he didn’t even jump, since his reflexes were so muted, but he knew in his head this was bad, because it was Jimin.
“Hoseok, what the hell? You that fucked up, you had to sleep in the car?” Jimin laughed as he rounded around the car to the passenger’s side.
Hoseok slapped at his face, like that would actually do something. He tried putting on the best sober face he possibly could as Jimin into the car next to him.
“Have you been here the whole time? I looked for you, and called.”
“Yeah, I honestly just got super fuckin’ tired, and I just, uh, didn’t wanna be a buzzkill for you.”
Hoseok could see through the darkness of the car that that lie made Jimin smile, and it destroyed him inside.
“That’s sweet, because, babe, I am fucked up. Me and Tae drank a whole handle of Fireball by ourselves and I’m pretty sure I’m never gonna be able to eat anything cinnamon ever again.”
Hoseok simply mustered a laugh, because he couldn’t find the words in his head.
“You good?” Jimin asked, leaning closer.
This scared Hoseok, so he pulled back slightly, knowing that his eyes were probably bloodshot.
“Yeah, fine. I was just sleeping and you woke me up from my nap, so I’m just groggy as hell.”
“Okay, I was about to say, because when I went to find you Jungkook said you went somewhere, but that you’d only had like two beers so you weren’t fucked up.”
Goddamn Jungkook. He couldn’t even use the excuse that he was just drunk for his slightly slurred speech. The only reason Jimin probably hadn’t called him out on it yet was because he’d had too much to drink to really notice.
“Yeah, no, just… tired.”
Hoseok could see Jimin’s eyes slightly narrow in the dark, but if he wanted to say something, he didn’t end up doing so.
“Alright then, let’s just go home. I don’t have to throw up right now, but I might, and we have all that leftover dinner from last night and I wanna devour it.”
Hoseok of course had the thought that he probably shouldn’t drive, but in that instant the high felt more like the coke than the smack, so things were a bit more clear. It was only ten minutes down the road. It would be fine, right? And he’d already admitted to Jimin that he wasn’t drunk, and if he said he couldn’t drive he would have to explain why, and he just wasn’t ready to do that.
“Yeah, gotcha. Let’s go home.”
Hoseok cranked the car. He looked over and found that Jimin had already reclined his seat back and had his eyes closed. That was good. At least he could fully focus on driving.
He pulled out of the yard and started on his way. There were no cars on the road at this time of night, so that made things easier. He wasn’t having much trouble staying within the lines. For the first six minutes, it all seemed to be going fairly well for what the situation was, until it just wasn’t.
The lows and highs can sometimes be triggered by random things. A light, a smell, feeling something. Hoseok glanced down at the clock in the car for a split second, or what was meant to be a split second. The time was displayed in bright LED lights, this neon blue. There was just something about the color and the way it was refracting into these halos that just sucked him in. It was making him tired, like he just wanted to dive face first into that light.
It happened so fast. One second he was seeing straight, and then the next his head was on the steering wheel; his head filled with drowsy lights.
That was the last thing Hoseok remembered — but it wasn’t the last for Jimin.
It was the violent knock of Jimin’s head against the door that shook him awake.
“The fuck?” He whispered, grabbing at his head, before looking over and seeing a site that made every drop of intoxication evaporate from his body.
Hoseok was lying head-first into the steering wheel, arms flopped at his side. “Hoseok!” He screamed, sitting up and trying to grab the wheel as fast as he could.
But it was too late.
The roads were wet that night from all the rain, the grass obviously even worse. By the time Jimin could lay a finger on the leather wheel, one of the tires had already managed to go off the road and onto the grass. The mud pulled them further off the road until it was a ditch that stopped the acceleration; the car flipping in the air.
That was the last memory for Jimin.
——
Present day.
“Wait, I-I what?” Hoseok stuttered. “Jimin, we’re not fucking dead. We’re right here.”
Jimin wormed his way from underneath Hoseok, eyes dead enough to match his disposition.
“You fell asleep and ran the car off of the road. We flipped. We’re dead.” Jimin said it so matter of factly and monotone that it made chills run down your spine.
So Hoseok got them into a car accident, you thought. That’s how they ended up in this terrible place of games and decisions.
Hoseok just stared up at Jimin from the floor, blood running down the corner of his mouth. “That’s fucking crazy. You don’t go to some weird ass hotel lobby with a goddamn bowling alley and two freaks when you die.” Hoseok motioned towards us.
Jimin looked at Hoseok through the fringes of his hair. “Bowl your next frame. See if any memories come back, but, I don’t know, maybe you were too high to even remember what happened.”
Hoseok was slow to get up. Obviously, the reality of what happened and is happening to them is a hard one to believe. It does sound ridiculous when you say it out loud. But still, Hoseok made his way to the bowling ball and threw it down the gutter, beginning the ninth frame.
The ball disappeared behind all of the missed pins as it had for many frames prior, and then he went to throw his last ball of the frame, but when the turn ended it was different this time. You watched as Hoseok suddenly fell to his knees. Tears were welling in his eyes. He got something.
“Remember now?” Jimin asked, his voice still cold.
“You… You got in the car, and I—” He stopped, hand ripping at his hair as the tears started to flow down his face, and then he was looking at you and Jin. “No, no, no, we’re not fucking dead. We’re not, right!?” He screamed and then he started walking towards us.
“I’m sorry, I cannot answer any of your questions. I’m simply here to make sure the game at hand is facilitated,” Jin answered simply, in typical fashion.
“No, please, just tell me he’s not dead.” Hoseok sobbed. “Please tell me I didn’t kill Jimin.”
“I cannot answer that—” Jin started, but before he could finish his response Hoseok’s was grabbing onto his vest and began to shank at him violently.
“Who are you!? Are you god? Because if you are, how could you kill him? He’s never done anything. I’m a fuck up. Kill me, just kill me, let him go back. It’s my fucking fault!”
You were crying a little bit now. You stepped further behind Jin to be out of sight. You couldn’t hold it together when emotions were this high, in a situation this tragic.
“Finish the game, and you both can be on your way,” Jin said, pulling Hoseok’s hands from his shoulders.
“What’s the point of the game if we’re already dead?—”
The end of Hoseok’s question shattered with the sound of a bowling ball hitting wood for the first time in eight frames. You gasped as you watched the ball flying down the middle of the alley, right towards the center, and before you knew it, every pin but three had been knocked down.
Hoseok dropped to the ground, clutching at his chest and head, and even more blood began to spill out of his mouth. He couldn’t even recover from that before Jimin was throwing his second ball down the lane, but missing.
“You’re lucky I’m so fucking shit at bowling.” Jimin sneered, dropping to the ground and burying his head in his hands. “You deserve to feel e-everything.” He cried.
You hated this. Everything about this was unfair. “Can they just finish already? I can’t stand watching this,” You whispered quietly through tears. Jin didn’t turn to face you, he simply kept forward.
Hoseok eventually lifted himself from the ground, once the pain subsided. He was silent as he grabbed the bowling ball, seeming to accept that they just needed to get this over with. He guttered both of his turns, effectively ending his portion of the game. However, you were surprised as you watched him walk towards the next lane that belonged to Jimin, whose head was still down as he tried to cope with this new reality.
Hoseok just stood there for a second, before turning to look back at Jimin. “You’re wrong. I deserve a lot worse than this.”
Jimin looked up in time to see Hoseok begin to walk down the gutter the lane.
“No—” You started as you tried to walk forward, but you were stopped by a firm hand on your waist.
“You know you can’t do that,” Jin said, an apology seeming to form on the lines of his face.
So you had to just sit there and watch. You watched as Hoseok made his way down to the end of the lane and crouched down on his knees. There was a beat of silence and then he began thrashing at the pins, knocking every single one down as agonizing screams began to pour past his mouth. You watched in pain as the next set of pins came down and he knocked them away just like the first set, another rush of horrifying bellows echoing across the room. And finally the last set of pins came down, and you had to turn away because you just couldn’t watch him do this to himself again. The final wave of screams arrived and eventually subside, and that was when you finally felt like you could breath again.
“Congratulations, you have completed the game,” Jin stated after what felt like an eternity.
You turned back around and found Hoseok slowly limping his way up the gutter lane. Jimin rises to his feet for the first time in a while and they both stand in front of Jin, probably expecting more concrete answers than they were going to get.
“So, since I won does that mean I get to live or something?” Jimin asked, lips completely straight and fingernails digging into his palm.
So angry, but you couldn’t blame him. How could you not be angry at this situation?
“Yes, please tell me he gets to go back,” Hoseok started. “Please tell me this is one of those stupid universes where it’s only been a split second in the real world, and he’ll get to go back. Please.” Hoseok begged.
“Just follow me back to the elevators from which you entered, and you can both leave this place,” Jin said as he turned towards you without actually answering their question.
You started to walk beside the three men, but you were suddenly halted in place by Jin.
“Stay here while I take them to the elevators. I’ll be back.”
You furrowed your brows. Jin always let you come to the judgment. “W-why? Where are you sending them?” You asked, desperate to know what he was going to do as an arbiter, because you knew if you were in his place you wouldn’t know what to do. You couldn’t blame Jimin for being angry, but seeing Hoseok endure atrocious pain in the hopes of saving Jimin was something that you couldn’t not think about.
“I’ll tell you when I get back, promise.” And with that he walked away, with the two dead lovers in tow.
You stood there frozen, thinking, in the end, you thought you would save Jimin.
—-
Jin positioned Hoseok and Jimin inside of their separate elevators. They weren’t resisting. He could tell they were just exhausted.
He stood back, and for the last time, spoke to them. “Thank you both for playing our game.”
They didn’t respond to him, and instead Hoseok took this opportunity to say one last thing. “I love you, Jimin,” he said, tears in his eyes.
Jimin didn’t respond, he instead did a gesture that Hoseok would never know that he did. Jimin placed his palm on the side of the elevator that connected to Hoseok’s; his final show of affection for someone he loved, but couldn’t separate that his life was over because of them.
The elevator doors finally closed, and Jin breathed out a sigh that he’d been holding in for what felt like forever. However, his momentary relaxation was taken away just as quickly by the clicking of a familiar pair of shoes.
“Nona,” Jin bowed to his boss.
“That was quite a difficult judgment, wasn’t it, Jin?”
“Yes, difficult indeed.”
“Always so stiff.” Nona tsked. “Maybe we didn’t give you enough emotions in our experiment.”
“You gave me plenty,” Jin answered firmly. “I don’t understand why we were given emotions at all, after all this time. These decisions were much easier without the subjectivity of emotion.”
“Yes, well as the soul crafters of the universe, we thought that having personality-less dummies, who just looked like humans wasn’t exactly giving respect to our creations. They should be empathized with in their final moments, no?” Nona smiled.
Jin’s jaw tightened. “Well, at least be consistent. You gave Y/N too much emotion. She feels too much towards the guests. How do you ever expect her to be objective?”
“It is true that she was given more range for emotion. As I said, this is an experiment. We’re trying to find the right balance of emotion for our arbiters. One that allows them to keep their judgment objective, but to understand that these people that you are judging deserve to have their last dying emotions recognized by someone — even if that someone’s a puppet.” Nona began to circle Jin. “And don’t act like it’s all bad, Jin. You can now feel things. You love Y/N, don’t you?”
“I… I don’t know what love is.”
Nona stopped in front of him, a twinkle in her eyes. “You are about to lie to her and say that you sent Jimin’s soul to be reincarnated and Hoseok’s to the void, when in reality it was the opposite? Why are you going to do that?”
One perk of having emotions is being able to hate Nona, even though she is right most of the time.
“Because I know how she thinks, and I know that’s what she would have done, even though it’s not how we’re supposed to judge here.”
“My dear Jin, that is love, in a way.” She squeezed his shoulder. “Enjoy it.”
Nona began to walk away, but Jin had a gnawing question for this woman that he hated.
“Where would you have sent them?”
Nona stopped and turned back to face him, an unusually serious look on her face. “It was indeed a tough one. But what you must understand, Jin, is that there is a thin line that separates most opposites. These constructs of angel and devil, no one is purely one or the other. You saw a small sliver of their life from memories, and you saw a small sliver of their actions today. That will never be enough to truly know who should go where.”
Jin’s brows furrowed. “Then why the hell do we do this?”
“Because there are only so many new bodies to put souls in. Someone has to make that decision.”
“But why us!?” Jimin felt himself yell and immediately clapped his hand over his mouth.
“Emotion is a good thing, Jin. Do not stifle it.” Nona walked towards the elevator and placed her hand on the part of the wall that separated the two elevators. “Where these two elevators sit, with reincarnation and the void; opposite sides of the same coin. This thin line, where they meet and collide, that is the human soul.”
With that Nona walked away without another word, leaving Jin to his own thoughts.
“The human soul,” Jin whispered to himself. The words that Nona said earlier ringing in his head, and he found himself following in her footsteps and placing his palm in the same spot that she had. “I hope one day you aren’t separated so arbitrarily. I hope this thin line fades and that we can just let you be.”
#bts fanfic#bts#bangtan#kim seokjin#jin#jimin#park jimin#hoseok#jung hoseok#bts angst#jihope#kpop fanfic
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