#worth my phone's flashlight being the only source of light | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fanfictwins · 7 months

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SDR2 - Halloween Special 2023

Summary: “As the victim of an honestly moronic prank, you end up somewhere you’d rather not be. Your fear and annoyance keep you chugging along, but, man… you just want to go home.”

Word Count: ~12k

“Ugh, this is just the worst…”

The tapping of your shoes against the tiled floor echoed as you walked through the halls of the abandoned school building, your only source of light being your phone’s flashlight; the beam of light shook with each step you took, illuminating everything ahead of you — the cracked tiles of the floor, the peeling paint on the walls, the dust floating in the air. None of it was an ideal sight.

The thought of being stuck here, in a supposedly-haunted, crumbling old building, would have terrified you if you weren’t already annoyed by how you got into this situation in the first place.

It was more than obvious to you at this point that those so-called new “friends” of yours were anything but friendly, getting you to come here just to trap you inside because it was “funny”.

“I swear, when I get my hands on them-”

The sound of skittering behind you made you tense up, your mouth snapping shut as you swiftly turned on your heel with your phone pointed out to try to catch the source in the light. You felt an intense shiver run down your spine at the idea that rats were crawling around this place, an idea made worse when you thought about what else could be residing in such a dilapidated building.

“...okay, I need to get out of here soon or I’m going to lose it.”

You quickened your pace as you continued to make your way through the halls, checking each and every classroom you passed by in case any had a viable exit, but it appeared that all of the windows — all broken to various degrees of severity — had been boarded up. You had a pretty strong feeling that you would end up with a myriad of splinters and cuts across your body if you tried escaping through them, the rotting wood and jagged glass the opposite of an inviting exit.

Even if you were desperate to get out, you weren’t that desperate… yet.

- - - - -

You wandered around for a short while before you found yourself at the end of a hallway, where you were met with a large entryway with a sign stating that it led to the dorm area right next to it.

“Oh… so this school was one of those schools, huh? …fancy.”

You figured that there was a pretty good chance of there being some sort of fire escape within the dorm area, the image of whatever board of education that used to run the place wanting to make sure their students — the children of a bunch of rich and influential families, no doubt — were completely safe in every way possible floating around in your head, and you entered into the area with little hesitation. The sight that you were met with was nothing much, the edges of the beam from your phone’s flashlight soon trailing off into complete darkness, though the faint outlines of a few doorways located in your immediate surroundings didn’t escape your notice.

And then a sudden scent in the air caught your attention.

“What the…?”

The scent clashed heavily with where you were, being so warm and rich that it reminded you of what it felt like to settle down at the kitchen table for dinner as a child while the building that you were in was both dusty and musty to the point that just being in here was a health concern. Your initial confusion over the scent of cooked food soon melted into unease after a few seconds had passed, the presence of such deliciousness in a place this dank somehow being very unsettling.

But maybe the scent was wafting into the school through an opening somewhere.

That made it worth checking out.

You followed the trail with your nose, giving the air a few good sniffs as you veered to the right within the darkness of the dorm area, until you caught sight of light coming through the crack at the bottom of a door. You lowered your phone, turning off its flashlight, as you hurried through the door, and then came to a halt when you recognized the room as must being the dining hall.

There were tables and chairs placed about the area, a kitchen entrance on the other side from you, but the main attraction had to be the makings of a full spread that covered half of a table in the middle of the dining hall; that was obviously the source of the mouthwatering scent in the air.

“...yeah, okay, this is weird.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at the sight before you, before moving your attention to the source of light in the dining hall: large windows in place of one of the walls. Unlike all the other windows you had seen so far, the dining hall’s windows seemed to be mostly intact with just a few visible cracks here and there; that meant that you couldn’t use them to escape unless you took a chair and used it to smash through them, but that was a course of action you were hesitant to take.

You were hesitant… even if the sight of the sun setting past the horizon outside, the sky above becoming a stunning gradient of orange and red at the bottom to purple and blue at the top, was taunting you as you continued to be cut off from the glorious outdoors you now bore witness to.

Hesitant.

Yeah.

You let out a long hum of disappointment as you shifted your gaze away from the windows, now instead returning to look at the trays of food sitting in the middle of the dining hall, which were as much of a feast for the eyes as they were for the nose. You swallowed as you felt yourself begin to salivate a little as your eyes scanned over the various dishes present, though you knew better than to try sneaking a bite or two from the spread. You would probably end up turning into a pig or something if you did, and you were not taking that risk, no matter how tempting the food was.

The floor then came into view when a huge figure darted past you, its force knocking you to the ground. You let out a small groan as you pushed yourself up onto your knees, before looking to where the figure had run and came to a stop, which was in front of the table with the feast on it.

And you froze.

The figure was tall with a feminine body shape — for a couple of obvious reasons — but it was the several nonhuman characteristics you noticed as your eyes scanned over her that was what drew your attention: furry ears sitting atop her head of unkempt hair, claw-like hands attached to furry forearms, and a tall that relentlessly wagged behind her as she tore into a cooked chicken.

Despite having barreled past you to get into the dining hall, the canine-esque girl didn’t seem to notice you at all, being too busy devouring whatever she could get her paws on; various sauces and juices splattered down onto the table and the ground around her, some even dribbling down her chin and onto her clothes. The way she ate was more akin to a wild animal than to a person.

“A-Ah, Akane!”

The sound of a voice that had a thick Southern accent spoke from elsewhere in the dining hall, the mild panic within it unable to draw your gaze to its owner as you watched the girl — Akane, as the voice called her — down an entire party-sized platter of assorted meats and cheeses.

“I appreciate the enthusiasm about my cooking, but please leave some for the others!”

Akane stuffed a few more bites of food into her mouth before she spoke, her voice coming out completely muffled from how full her cheeks were. “Can’t you just make more if they want any?”

“I mean, I could-” The sound of metal trays being placed onto a table reached your ears as the voice paused for just the briefest moment before continuing. “-but you should still limit yourself.”

You finally managed to get back onto your feet after your shock faded slightly, though your heart was still beating a bit faster than you would have liked for it to, and you leaned on a nearby table to steady yourself before you directed your attention towards the source of the Southern voice.

He didn’t look nearly as threatening as Akane did — the fact that he was much shorter than her being a big reason as to why — though the sight of a pair of goat legs being where human legs should have been made your stomach churn. His attire consisted of a classic chef’s outfit on his human upper-half, with a red apron around his waist and a red handkerchief around his neck; to finish his ensemble, he had a tiny chef’s hat on his head with two horns poking out from his hair.

“Hey, you gonna eat that?”

You jolted out of your thoughts as Akane spoke again, and flinched after you looked over at her just to see her staring at you, the red sauce dripping down her chin making the sight of her look a lot worse than it actually was. You blinked before you looked down at the table you were using to keep your balance, your eyes drawn to the steaming plate of kebabs sitting right next to you.

“U-Uh… no…?”

“So I can have ‘em?”

You stared at Akane for a moment before you nodded your head, removing your shaking hands from the table and instead keeping them close to your chest. The wide grin that Akane gave you in response only made you more nervous as you saw the sharp canines she had in her mouth.

“Aw, nice!”

The kebabs never stood a chance as the canine-esque girl immediately made a beeline for the plate, everything but the iron skewers — which Akane tossed to the side — disappearing in the time that it took you to blink. She then resumed eating as if that entire interaction didn’t happen.

“Hmm? Who might you be?”

Your attention was grabbed by the half-goat man as he spoke, and you flinched again after you turned your head towards him just to see that he was now standing next to you. He was leaning forward as if to inspect you, one of his hands raised to his chin as the other rested on his hip; he let his eyes briefly wander you up and down, before they came to their final stop on your face.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around before…”

“I-I, um… I’m… nobody important?” You struggled to turn your lips up into a smile, your nerves still a bit shot as you took a shaky step back away from the chef. “Uh, I’m just… well… I-I, it’s…”

The chef let out a small chuckle, a smile coming to his face as he dropped his hand from his chin. “Now, now… no need to get nervous. It’s always exciting to meet new people, you know?”

His voice had an almost comforting quality to it as he spoke, though the fact that his Southern accent disappeared and was replaced with an accent that sounded a bit more posh made alarm bells ring out in your head. You couldn’t think of a single normal reason for a person to do that in a normal conversation, especially after he talked to Akane without doing anything like that at all.

“How about you relax with some of my delectable cooking? You won’t taste anything better!”

You shifted your gaze from the chef and towards the feast, seeing Akane still going ham with it as she devoured an actual cooked ham like it was nothing, before you looked at the chef again.

“...y-yeah, sorry, I’ll have to decline. I’d rather not get between that girl and her food.”

The chef looked over at Akane himself, his smile faltering as he furrowed his eyebrows and let out a small sigh; it only lasted for a moment, however, before his attention returned to you and a smile reappeared on his face. “Oh, don’t worry! I’ll just make an extra-special dish just for you.”

The way he said that made shivers run down your spine, and not in a good way.

“Nope. I’m leaving. Goodbye.”

Without waiting for a response, you turned on your heel and began to walk away, hearing the chef start to call out after you before you suddenly heard him yell at Akane about paying more attention to what she was putting in her mouth, the sound of gagging and silverware hitting the floor following after it. You just ignored the commotion and focused on leaving the dining hall.

- - - - -

The area outside the dining hall was no longer bathed in pitch-black darkness; the lighting that came from the ceiling was dim, but it was enough for you to actually see where you were going.

“Huh… I didn’t think that this place still had power, but…”

It was definitely the least surprising thing you had run into so far, though you chose not to focus too much on what you had witnessed just moments before as you looked around the small area, squinting your eyes to try to get a better look at everything. You decided to start moving towards the dorm rooms, the thought of a fire escape coming back to your mind to fuel your every step.

You passed by a set of stairs — finding an escape on any floor but the first floor was only an “if there’s no other choice” option, so you didn’t have to resort to that yet — before you entered into a hallway with multiple doors on both sides; these were the rooms the students had stayed in.

The doorknob of the first door you approached rattled in your hand as you tried to turn it.

Locked.

You had never felt more like a horror movie protagonist than you did then, only you didn’t have to worry about trying to fit keys into a lock with shaky hands as you went from door to door and simply wiggled the doorknob of each one just to find that they were locked like the first, until you eventually found one that wasn’t. The door hadn’t even been closed properly, being slightly ajar.

The lightest push was all that was needed to fully open the door, the creaking it made from the movement making you cringe as you stepped into the room… which was odder than expected.

You saw the expected items — a bed, dresser, and various personal items neatly placed about — that any dorm room would have, but even if the school catered to rich students, the fairy-tale theme was a little juvenile for a teenager’s bedroom. The bed had a canopy that let shimmering curtains flow down from it to shield the bed from sight when they were drawn, and vines covered the walls, intertwined with fairy lights to create a magical atmosphere; the color palette had been limited to vibrant greens and warm browns, but the walls were painted a light blue like the sky.

The entire thing made you feel as if you were in a children’s storybook rather than a school.

It took you only a moment to snap out of your surprise, the charming nature of the bedroom not enough to distract you for long from the windows located on a wall to your right, but keeping you from hurrying over to throw open the curtains and escape to freedom was the sound of a door opening to your right. The thought of another door being in the room aside from the one behind you caught you off guard, but the steam flowing in from the connected room connected the dots.

The school was clearly for the rich and influential, and personal bathrooms fit in with that image.

You could only silently stare as a figure exited the bathroom, her back to you, and even though that was all you could see, it was almost too easy for something within you to admit that she had an unusual beauty about her. The long blonde hair that flowed down her back, the fair skin free of even a single mark or tiny blemish… and the shimmering wings fluttering ever so slightly from where they sprouted out of her back; it was like you were looking at some kind of fairy princess.

The girl was brushing her hair, the dampness making it clear that she had been taking a shower along with the presence of the steam, and she hummed a tune happily to match the beats of her strokes with the hairbrush, ignorant to the intruder was standing just a few paces away from her.

That was until she turned around, a gasp leaving her mouth as soon as her eyes connected with yours, the hairbrush falling from her hand. You heard a small squeak escape your own lips when you stumbled back, your back hitting the dorm room’s door with a thud as your face warmed up.

“Ah, sorry-!”

“O-Oh my goodness! My apologies!”

Your voice overlapped with the girl’s voice as you and her spoke simultaneously, but while your words were filled with embarrassment at being caught in her dorm room and nervousness about her nonhuman appearance, the girl sounded a lot more concerned instead. You kept your gaze trained on her as you tried to navigate around the open door behind you, your legs a little shaky.

“M-My name is Sonia!” The girl tried to smile to ease your obvious unease, her hands carefully brought up to her chest with her palms facing towards her. “Could you please give me yours?”

Her eyes widened after that passed through her lips, and she raised a hand up to her mouth.

“W-Wait, please do not answer that!” Sonia took a step back, her smile faltering briefly until she recomposed herself. “I mean, could you please tell me a name of which I may address you by?”

You finally managed to break your eyes’ focus on Sonia and turned around, your mouth sealed shut as you bolted from the dorm room while ignoring the shouts coming from the fairy princess; the only thing on your mind was to get as far away from her as possible, something about giving her your name eliciting a deep sense of fear in some region of your being, and you just decided to abandon your plan to find an exit in the dorm area, your feet carrying you past the dining hall.

The sound of multiple unfamiliar voices coming from the dining hall — you shook a little at the thought of there being more strange creatures in the building — only fueled your pace as your feet pounded against the tiled floor. You just continued to run even as their voices got fainter.

You only hoped that no one would follow you.

- - - - -

You slowed down once you didn’t hear anyone coming after you, the once-creepy silence of the school now a relief; even though your eyes were starting to become used to the dim lighting that the building had, you still couldn’t see that far down the hallway, so the lack of footsteps heading in your direction was the best indicator that you were safe… or, at least, you were safe for now.

The thought of using your phone’s flashlight again to make navigation easier passed through your mind for a moment, and you reached down to grab it from your pocket, but instead of the glorious cellular metal slab full of electricity and the internet, your fingers only met with fabric.

“O-Oh… oh no, no no no, this can’t be happening…!”

Your voice came out as a low hiss as your heart sank, the fact that your phone was missing the scariest thing that had happened to you yet. You had no idea where you could have lost it, your phone having been in your hands the entire time… that was, up until Akane knocked you over.

“...it’s fine, everything’s fine; it’s just a phone, I can survive without it.”

You placed a hand against the wall to stabilize yourself before you started moving again, trying your best to push back the panic and keep your mind focused on the goal of escaping the place of horrors you were trapped in. You focused on minimizing the sound of your shoes against the floor, on keeping your breathing steady, and on trying to quell the jackhammer inside your chest.

And then you heard voices coming from down the hallway.

The sensation of your entire body tensing up to resemble a stone statue was not comfortable in the slightest, but you forced your body to take a few steps forward anyway. When you were just a few steps away from the corner, you leaned forward to take a peek at the source of the voices.

“I just thought…”

There was one girl and two guys walking down the hallway in your direction, the girl’s face being visible due to the light from the attachment on the video game handheld she held as she spoke.

“...a video game tournament with the class could be fun.”

“That sounds great!” The guy on the girl’s left smiled at her, the dim lighting making it hard to make out anything specific about his appearance, though his silhouette seemed normal. “But the outcome seems a bit obvious if you’re playing. No one here’s as good at them as you are.”

The girl only let out a small hum in response, his gaze cast down at her handheld.

You squinted as you continued to look at the three figures — they appeared to be around your age, but you couldn’t be completely sure yet given everything you had seen so far — and after you had done so for a brief moment, you had to admit that there didn’t seem to be anything that was nonhuman about them; that normally would have been reassuring, but the three were still lurking about an old abandoned school building in the dark of night, which wasn’t normal to do…

…and while you were also doing that, the difference was that you didn’t want to be here.

“Oh?”

The guy on the girl’s right caught the attention of the other two, the both of them following his gaze to see you peeking from around the corner at them, your body freezing at the attention.

It felt as if the world stopped for a moment, the three of them staring at you as you stared back at them. Your chest felt empty, your heart devoid of beats and your lungs devoid of air — maybe they really were as frozen as the rest of your body, your head feeling light to a sickening degree.

“Ah, hello?”

It was the girl who broke the silence first, movement slowly returning to the world as she tilted her head; the light attached to her handheld revealed the pale mauve color of the hair framing her face, and reflected off of the small Galaga pin clipped to a lock of it. Her face remained the main point of focus to you, her dark hoodie blending into the dimly-lit hallway with minimal effort.

The second thing to break the silence was a weak cry that escaped your throat as you shrunk behind the wall, only the top half of your head still visible to the three as you still stared at them.

The girl furrowed her eyebrows, concern on her face. “W-Wait, there’s no need to be scared…!”

“Huh? Are they a new student?” The appearance of the guy on her left became more defined as distress sharpened your senses, your suspicions of him seeming normal confirmed; while it was a bit rude to admit, he had a pretty unremarkable face, and even his outfit of a simple white shirt with a nice tie and dark pants was extremely basic at its very best. “I don’t recognize them…”

The girl shook her head after a moment. “We would’ve been told about a new student…”

You shrunk back a little further as the girl took a slow and careful step forward, leaning forward to get a better look at you. The way she held herself was very calm, not a hint of hostility seen in her body language or on her face, with even her gaze softer than expected when it met yours.

“Hey… my name’s Chiaki. Do you need help?”

Her voice was very soft as she spoke, her tone sounding too genuine for it to be part of some ruse to get you to lower your guard; she was even avoiding getting too close for comfort to you.

“That… that depends.” You peeked your head out a bit more around the corner, returning to how you had originally been before you shrunk back in fear. Your gaze flickered over to the two guys, before you refocused it on Chiaki again. “This might sound a bit strange, but… are you human?”

Chiaki paused as she blinked, and the three shared a glance with each other, the silence shared between them holding some sort of unspoken conversation. They then resumed looking at you.

“Uh, y-yeah…?” The guy with the unremarkable face spoke up, his lips pulled up into a smile that didn’t look entirely convinced of what came out of his own mouth. “We’re… we’re human…”

Despite how hesitant he was with his words, you felt a little calmer than before at the knowledge that there was a fellow human nearby, and you stepped out a bit more from behind the corner; a shaky smile made its way onto your own lips as well, the first step to confidence. “Ah, really…?”

The guy on Chiaki’s right caught your attention as he raised a hand slightly, and you were taken aback by how sickly he looked now that you could see him better; the unusually-fluffy hair on his head was a strange off-white color, and his skin looked too pale to be healthy. He almost looked like someone that should be on strict bed rest rather than hanging around a filthy place like this.

“I think the better question would be… are you human?”

And you suddenly felt not so calm anymore. “W-What?”

“Ugh, Nagito…” The other guy looked at Nagito as he narrowed his eyes into a glare, his lips now turned down into a frown that had clear annoyance written all over it. “That’s not helping.”

“Oh, I just think it’s rather important to know.” Nagito had a slight smile on his face, his posture relaxed despite the obvious tension now present in the air. “Because I’m sure we’ve all figured out what’s going on here, and it’s best to not keep anything hidden in the dark, right, Hajime?”

Chiaki ignored Hajime and Nagito as she kept her gaze trained on you, a soft smile coming to her face as she held a hand to her chest. The light attachment on her handheld was no longer casting light on her face as she held the device by her side, and due to how dim the lighting in the hallway was, you had difficulty deciding if the light blush dusting her cheeks was real or not.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.” She extended a hand for you to take. “Let’s get you out of here.”

You blinked a few times, staring at Chiaki as surprise washed over you, and that was when you felt your nerves finally starting to settle; even if everything else within this old abandoned school building was making you freak out, the girl in front of you seemed to be a real light in the dark as she provided you respite from all the craziness you had witnessed. You hesitated for a couple of seconds more before deciding to go for it as you reached out your hand towards Chiaki’s hand.

The moment you were just an inch away from her, you felt a spark shoot from her to you.

It almost felt like static electricity.

“I-I saw them go this way!”

You flinched at the sound of a familiar voice echoing through the halls, retracting your hand towards your body and wincing slightly at the sight of Chiaki dropping her smile from shock.

“Don’t worry, Miss Sonia! I’ll catch them!”

“Hmph, as if a mere calcium crusader could catch the culprit that the lady saw! Go, my Four Dark Devas of Destruction, and find the intruder that has dared to roam these accursed halls!”

It took less than a second for your body to start moving again, your footsteps pounding against the tiled floor as you darted past the trio of maybe-humans; your mind felt blank aside from fear as you ran, hardly able to make out Chiaki’s words as she called out to you, her voice becoming mixed with various other voices that sprouted up somewhere behind you — you almost felt as if you were an animal, acting without thinking at the first sign of possible danger presented to you.

You just hoped that Chiaki wouldn’t think of you as rude because of this.

- - - - -

You hunched over where you stood, grasping at the wall and gasping for air as you felt your heart pound in your chest; you could still hear voices echoing in the hallways, the sound only helping to keep your heart rate elevated as you tried to figure out where exactly you were.

“Ugh… I-I think I ran past the entrance hall…”

You let out a small groan as your eyes scanned over your surroundings, the corridor completely unfamiliar to you. There was a staircase a few feet from where you stood, but you weren’t dumb enough to ascend it and get trapped on a higher floor where your only option of escape would require jumping out a window; even from just the second floor, you would have to hope that you could stick a safe landing in your panic-filled state. That left a door next to where you stopped.

There was a sign sticking out from the wall above it, but you couldn’t focus enough to read it.

“The others should be in the dining hall by now, young master.”

“Hey, I thought I told you not to call me that…? I cut your strings for a reason, ya know?”

You tensed up at the sound of a pair of voices coming from the staircase, footsteps starting to descend accompanying them, and your thoughts turned to finding a place to hide as you turned on your heel towards the closed door next to you, flinging it open as you attempted to run inside.

But you only took a few steps before crashing into something and getting knocked backwards.

You placed a hand on your head, rubbing it as you blinked a couple of times and looked at the sight in front of you; in the dim lighting, you were able to make out a girl wearing clothing similar to what a nurse would wear — or maybe it actually was a nurse’s uniform, you didn’t really know — who had also been knocked back onto her behind, a small whimper soon escaping her lips.

“A-Ah, I’m so sorry!” You pushed yourself up onto your feet, crouching down to keep yourself on the same level as the girl. “I-I didn’t mean to knock you down, honest! Are you alright? Hurt?”

You were, unsurprisingly, unable to make out much in the dim lighting, but from what you could tell, the girl was relatively unharmed. You did notice bandages wrapped around a couple of her limbs, but given that they were already there and the girl seemingly had no time to patch herself up after running into you, you assumed that they must be from previous injuries she had gotten.

You crawled a bit closer to the girl as she continued to tear up, stopping only when your hand touched something other than the cold tiled floor. The girl’s cold fingers twitched at your touch as you gently took a hold of her hand, the girl herself quieting down too as she looked at you.

You stood up, your grip firm on the girl’s hand. “H-Here! Let me help you up-”

The weight you pulled up in your hand was surprisingly light, and you looked down at your hand to see the girl’s hand still clinging to yours… and you saw only her hand, with part of her forearm attached to it. Its grip was weak, just barely seeming to hold on without falling to the floor below.

“W-What…?”

You slowly let your gaze fall from the hand you held and down towards the girl still sitting on the floor, your eyes immediately going to focus on her arm that was closest to where you had picked up the hand from to see that she was, indeed, missing an entire hand and part of her forearm.

That of which you were currently holding.

It moved slightly in your grasp, the fingers attempting to tighten around yours, before your own grip loosened completely and the hand fell to the floor. Your knees shook before giving out, your eyelids drooping to partly consume your vision with blurry darkness as you lost your balance.

The last thing you heard was a nervous voice shouting before it all went black.

- - - - -

“Wow, humans are even uglier up close!”

“Hiyoko, don’t say that!”

“What? It’s true!”

You let out a groan, shifting your aching body before noticing that you were laying on something soft, the plush surface under your head feeling like a pillow. Your fingers twitched for a moment before grasping at the thin sheets under you, and your mind finally realized that you must be on a bed right now. That didn’t really explain why you could smell food from the dining hall, though.

“Ah, they’re waking up!”

You opened your eyes and blinked a few times, your vision clearing up before you squinted at the fluorescent light that filled the room; this was the best lighting you had seen so far within this abandoned school building. You rolled your head over to see two figures standing at the side of the bed, and your body immediately reacted by making you sit up and push yourself away from them, but you snapped out of it when you almost fell off the other side of the bed, only managing to barely catch yourself. You glanced around at your surroundings, realizing that you were in the nurse’s office, before you refocused your attention on the two unfamiliar figures, still a bit tense.

The first was a girl with red hair — actually, they looked more like petals that wrapped around her head from the top to form a bob — and skin that had an odd green tint to it that made you feel a bit squeamish. The only other thing attention-grabbing about her was the camera hung over her shoulder, the device resting at her hip with her hands free and clasped in front of her.

The second was a smaller girl — who looked much younger than anyone else you had seen so far — dressed in a traditional kimono; however, ruining the otherwise innocent appearance that she had were the horns sprouting out from her head, the bat-like wings flapping from where they stuck out slightly below her shoulders, and the scorpion-like tail swaying side-to-side behind her.

You froze when the small girl grinned at you, her grin filled with unbelievably sharp teeth.

“H-Hey, you don’t need to be scared…” The redhead smiled at you when you shifted your gaze over to her, her smile much less threatening than the small girl’s grin, even though it seemed to be unsure at the moment. “I’m Mahiru, okay? Everything’s fine, and no one’s going to hurt you.”

“Says who?”

Mahiru looked at the small girl next to her, her smile shifting to a stern frown. “Hiyoko-!”

“E-Excuse me…” The sound of a soft voice cut off Mahiru before she could say anything else, and you looked over at the source, seeing the girl you had bumped into earlier standing a little ways away from the bed you were sitting on. You raised your eyebrows in surprise to see that you had guessed correctly that she was donning a nurse’s uniform, before you noticed that her posture appeared very timid; she was slouching, shrinking in on herself as if to make herself seem as small as possible. “I-If you don’t mind, I need to check to make sure you’re okay…”

Not a single sound escaped you as you stared at her, the girl staring right back at you.

The presence of a proper light source above you allowed you to now notice the varied colors of her skin, all being varying shades of pale green, with stitches connecting the patches that made up her body. You even noticed how her limbs were attached to her body with thin strings as well, meaning that, due to your sudden collision with her, her arm had completely detached from her-

The girl widened her eyes in panic. “Wha-?! I-I’m sorry! Did I do something wrong…?!”

You took a deep breath, your vision blurring slightly as tears pricked at your eyes, and your hands tightly gripping the sheets of the bed you were sitting on, your fingers digging into them.

“No, no, Mikan! You didn’t do anything wrong!” Mahiru looked at the nurse, her lips pulling up into a rather successful reassuring smile. “They’re just scared! It’s okay, this is totally normal!”

The sight of the zombified nurse almost breaking down into tears did help to calm your nerves the slightest bit, undeniable humanity within her action that broke through the dread pooling in the pit in your stomach. You attempted to relax your grip on the sheets beneath you as Mikan wiped at her face with her hands, and you did the same to your own face after a few moments.

“I’m s-sorry! I didn’t mean to-”

“N-No, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have s-scared you…!”

“Oh, god, there’s two of them now.” The small demon girl — Hiyoko, as Mahiru said — rolled her eyes, her lips pursed in annoyance. “I don’t know if I can handle having two crybabies around…”

“See? Everything is fine!” Mahiru ignored Hiyoko as she kept her focus on you and Mikan, her reassuring smile still present on her face. “There’s nothing to be scared of, or to worry about.”

You sniffed, taking a few breaths to calm down before you focused your gaze on Mikan. “S-So… um… you said that you needed to check to… make sure that I’m okay, or… or something…?”

“Y-Yeah!” Mikan nodded, her voice determined despite the stuttering. “I-If you’ll let me…”

You flinched when Mikan drew closer to you, though you still tried to stay as still as possible as you let the nurse check you over for injuries; her touch was ice cold — if her appearance wasn’t enough to tell you that she wasn’t alive, her lack of body warmth was — and you shuddered as you tried to repress the urge to gag at the thought that an undead body was touching your own.

You tried to focus on something else, anything else, to distract your mind and stomach during the inspection, only to find your eyes drawn towards the stitches that littered Mikan’s body. The main thing to draw your attention to them was how they looked unusually loose, the strings that kept her limbs attached to her body specifically appearing to lack the tension needed to keep them from detaching like they did earlier, and it was a little odd that she hadn’t tightened them.

“E-Everything looks fine…” Mikan removed her hands from your body, clasping them together under her chin. “I-I don’t think that you’ll have any lasting injuries from w-what happened…”

“Great!” Mahiru looked at you with a gentle smile. “That means you can come with us!”

You blinked in surprise. “...huh?”

“Yeah… Mr. Fool’s Gold says that we’ve gotta have a meeting!” Hiyoko too had a smile on her face, though hers was a lot more unnerving than Mahiru’s as she smiled wide, letting you get another look at all of the sharp teeth she had in her mouth. “And you’re the guest of honor!”

- - - - -

You looked down at the plate of food that was now in your hands as you left the nurse’s office with Mahiru and Hiyoko, the food being the culprit for why the nurse’s office had smelled like the dining hall — apparently a “Teruteru” had dropped it off for you while you were unconscious after hearing that you fainted, but while it was a kind thing to do, you weren’t very hungry right now.

“Alright, we’ll escort you to the dining hall.” Mahiru was a couple of steps in front of you, looking back over her shoulder at you with the calm and friendly smile that you had come to appreciate greatly from her still present on her face. “It’s where our class always holds our meetings.”

The reason why you appreciated the plant-esque girl’s smile so much was that it was nothing like Hiyoko’s smile, which was always filled with either disgust or malicious intent; you had only known her for about ten minutes or so, so you were baffled as to why she was so mean to you.

The small demon girl raised her hands into the air happily. “Yep, it’s time for you to die!”

“What?!”

“No, that’s not what’s going to happen!” Mahiru put her hands on her hips, leaning slightly towards Hiyoko with her eyes narrowed into a soft glare. “Don’t joke about things like that, Hiyoko. It’s not funny, and we really don’t need them passing out again like they did earlier.”

Hiyoko looked to the side, her lips forming a small pout. “Aw, but that’s no fun…”

Mahiru glared at Hiyoko for a few moments more before she let her lips turn up into a smile again and straightened her posture. “Now, with all of that out of the way, let’s get to the-”

You blinked as Mahiru cut herself off, before you suddenly became very aware of a presence behind you, a shadow being cast over your shoulders even with the dim lighting in the hallway; the lack of fear on Mahiru’s and Hiyoko’s faces was reassuring, only slight surprise within their expressions, and you hesitated for just a moment before turning around to see a familiar face.

There was a hungry grin on Akane’s face as she looked down at you — or, more precisely, the plate you were carrying. You felt your body tense up at the sight, the way the canine-esque girl was towering over you making her expression seem more menacing than it actually was, but when you caught sight of her tail wagging excitedly behind her, you almost felt the urge to smile.

You held the plate out to Akane, your hands shaking just a little, and watched her grin grow as her tail wagged even faster. You felt the plate be hastily torn from your grasp before it clattered on the floor, the food completely gone; not a single morsel or crumb was to be found anywhere.

“Aw, thanks! I was starving!”

“We ate half-an-hour ago-” Hiyoko pointed accusingly towards Akane. “-you overgrown fleabag!”

“Oh, really? Huh, it felt longer than that…” Akane flashed a grin at you and the two girls, the sight of her canines a lot less scary to you now. “Well, training makes me hungry, you know?”

“AKANE! Your speed is admirable, but you shouldn’t run away from your training!”

The ground shook as a figure arrived around the corner in the hallway, both tall in height and wide in length; the silhouette of the new arrival was rigid and jagged, the dull gray of his stone body becoming more obvious to you as he drew nearer to you and the three girls around you.

“Sorry, Coach Nekomaru!” Akane continued to grin as she turned to face the stone man, her demeanor casual without a single care in the world, though her tail was still wagging slightly as if she was an excited puppy. “My nose caught wind of good food and I couldn’t control myself.”

“A healthy appetite is a good sign…” Nekomaru looked down at Akane with a frown etched onto his stone face, his facial features all being very sharp and serious. “...but that’s NO EXCUSE!”

“Hey, that’s enough yelling…!” Mahiru raised her voice as she put her hands on her hips, her lips pulled down into an annoyed frown. “You might scare our… er… guest? …yeah, guest! You shouldn’t yell inside anyway. Now, since they’re awake, we all need to head to the dining hall.”

“Gah-hahahaha! Okay!” Nekomaru shifted his attention back over to Akane, the jagged stone features of his face turning up into an excited grin; it was both unnerving yet fascinating to see stone more so fluidly, appearing both uncanny yet natural at the same time. “Akane, we’ll use this as a part of your training! Go around the school and inform the others to head to the dining hall pronto. I expect you to finish and be in the dining hall yourself within the next ten minutes!”

Hiyoko piped up, an innocent-looking smile on her face that didn’t fit the patronizing tone that came out of her mouth. “Yeah, Akane! And if you manage to do that, we’ll give you a treat!”

“Treat?”

The werewolf let out an ecstatic howl before taking off, disappearing in the blink of an eye and leaving nothing but dust in her wake, which you accidentally breathed in and had to cough out.

Mahiru let out a groan. “Come on, let’s just go already.”

- - - - -

You plopped yourself down into one of the chairs in the dining hall, and fiddled with your hands in your lap as you glanced towards the large windows you had seen earlier; unlike the beautiful sunset you witnessed before, there was just complete darkness on the other side now, the light of the lights inside only helping to make the night outside look even darker than it actually was.

The dining hall wasn’t completely empty when you arrived here.

The chef you saw earlier — who you learned was the “Teruteru” that had dropped the plate of food off for you in the nurse’s office, and had been in possession of your phone that you did, in fact, drop after Akane knocked you over earlier — was still there, cleaning up after having made the whole buffet by himself. Hiyoko had actually taken the effort to point out to you that Teruteru was the class pervert the moment you crossed the threshold into the dining hall, and it was nice to know that your gut feeling about him before was correct, and not just a product of your terror.

But at least he seemed decent enough to return your phone without trouble.

That said, the fear bubbling up inside your stomach still had quite a lot of fuel left.

Due to the lights in the dining hall being brighter than the ones in the hallway, you had to bear witness to what everyone truly looked like as they filtered into the room over a short period of time. You already knew what Mahiru and Hiyoko looked like in good lighting, the nurse’s office also one of the few rooms in the building that had some, but Nekomaru took your breath away when the light revealed the cracks and scratches on his stone body, which he just laughed off.

You had to admit that, even with how unsettling their monstrous appearances were, there was also something so intriguing about them that appealed to the natural human instinct of curiosity within you… but then there were the cases of those who appeared so human on the outside.

Chiaki looked as normal as any girl you might run into in a gaming store, and she had taken a seat right next to you after noticing your obvious discomfort with your current situation. The old handheld was still in her hands, the light attachment removed due to the better lighting, and she tried to pull your focus towards her video game to help distract you and calm you down; it might had worked better if it weren’t for the tingly “static electricity” sensation you got around her that you had felt earlier, the sensation a clear sign that she wasn’t as human as she appeared to be.

Nagito just looked even more ill than before, the bright lighting only making his pale skin stand out a lot more, and his behavior as he conversed with the others — he was seemingly ignoring you, which you couldn’t complain about — made it clear that he was a little off in the head. On the other hand, Hajime both looked and acted like a normal guy, though there was a noticeable scar on his head that was only partly hidden by his hair, the sight of it making you shiver a little.

It didn’t take long for Mikan to enter the dining hall after those three, stumbling a bit like how the zombies in classic horror movies often did when walking around. “S-Sorry for taking so long…!”

Mahiru smiled at Mikan reassuringly. “Don��t worry, Mikan! The meeting hasn’t started yet.”

“O-Oh?” Mikan looked around with a nervous frown on her lips, seeming to take a moment to check who had arrived in the dining hall before she did. “S-So… I didn’t keep you waiting…?”

“No, you didn’t.” Hajime also piped up to reassure the zombified nurse from where he sat at a circular table. “Most of the others aren’t here yet, so… you could say that you’re actually early.”

“A-Ah, okay…”

The nurse looked both relieved and slightly disappointed at that revelation, but she didn’t say anything more as she took a seat at the table Hajime and Nagito were sitting at — needing at least three reassurances that she was actually allowed to sit with them instead of on the floor.

The next to enter was a girl who you had never seen before, and the moment she opened her mouth, you were honestly surprised that you hadn’t at least heard her during your time here; the windows in the dining hall were already cracked, but you swore they grew a bit when she spoke.

“Whoa-ho! It’s true! It’s true! A human’s inside the school!”

Chiaki looked up at the girl calmly. “Ah, Ibuki… you might want to lower your voice a bit.”

You had to take a few moments to focus after your eyes stopped ringing — thankfully, your ears didn’t start bleeding from just how painfully loud Ibuki was being — before you managed to look at and take in the sight of her. Her appearance was a mess, her hair particularly wild with some of it having been dyed pink and blue, though she somehow managed to make it all work for her.

“Oh, sorry!” Ibuki sent you an apologetic smile, rubbing the back of her head as she made her way towards the table. “Ibuki sometimes forgets that humans can’t handle her natural voice.”

You raised an eyebrow as you stared at Ibuki. “Your natural voice is… screaming?”

“Haha, yeah!” Ibuki plopped herself down in the seat opposite to you. “It’s kinda hard to control, but don’t worry! I just gotta use my indoor voice, and then everything’s gonna be all rock ‘n roll.”

She appeared to focus for a moment, closing her eyes and putting her hands up to her head as she repeated the words “indoor voice” to herself over and over again. Even though you were still a little confused, you appreciated the effort she was making to not absolutely destroy your ears.

Your attention was pulled from Ibuki when you saw Sonia enter the dining hall with a nervous anticipation about her, her wings fluttering behind her and sparkling beautifully in the bright light of the dining hall. The worry laced in her expression only lessened the moment she saw you.

“Oh, thank goodness! You are alright!”

There were two guys that followed Sonia into the dining hall, who were also people that you had never seen before, but then you remembered hearing her voice in the halls accompanied by two others earlier; these had to be who she was talking to. The one to draw in most of your attention was a skeleton that had glowing pink hair that was only partially hidden under a beanie, and the other was a guy who had almost every inch of his skin that was visible wrapped up in bandages, though the attention that you gave him was soon lost to the hamsters that sat on his shoulders.

The hamsters were also wrapped up in bandages, which admittedly made them cuter.

“So… this is the foolish mortal that has dared to enter onto this accursed land?” The guy that was wrapped up in bandages crossed his arms as he stared at you with an overly-intense gaze, only breaking it from you when the hamsters sitting on his shoulders squeaked as if responding to him. “It is! My Dark Devas say that their scent is the same as the one lingering in the halls!”

The skeleton let out an annoyed sigh, and you silently wondered how he did that. “Geez, dude, Miss Sonia could’ve just told us if they’re the one or not. She did see them in her room, after all.”

“Oh! Uh…” You looked at Sonia again, your cheeks beginning to warm up from embarrassment that you had almost forgotten you experienced earlier. “...s-sorry about earlier. For both entering your room and then just running off like that… that was probably super rude of me, wasn’t it?”

“It is quite alright.” Sonia smiled brightly at you, her wings fluttering again and sparkling more as they caught the light in just the right way. “As long as you are uninjured, that is all that matters.”

Sonia then sat down in the other seat next to you, and it only took a couple of seconds before the two guys started arguing over who would get the seat on the other side of her; it was hard enough to keep up with the argument as they spoke over each other, but the fact that the guy with the bandages was spicing up his language only added another headache to the situation.

You hesitated for a moment before gesturing to them. “Is this normal, or…?”

“Yes, but please just ignore them.” Sonia continued to smile as if it was nothing. “Kazuichi and Gundham tend to often get into… tussles with each other, so please do not pay it much mind.”

“Kazuichi’s the skeleton and Gundham’s the mummy!” Ibuki piped up, her voice loud but not at all like the painful screeching you heard from her earlier. “They fight over Sonia all the time! It’s a classic love triangle, though… heh, Kazuchi refuses to realize that he’s on the losing side!”

“I’m surprised that both of them aren’t on the losing side.” Hiyoko had a smug smile on her face, her hand held up to her mouth and barely obscuring it from view. “It’s just corpse number one or corpse number two. Tell me, which one would you prefer? A bag of bones or a rotting fleshbag?”

“H-Hey!”

Kazuichi tore his attention from Gundham to look towards Hiyoko with shock on his face, and you were surprised to see how expressive he could be for a skeleton with no facial muscles.

“I’m not a “bag of bones”! I’d say my bone structure is actually quite good!”

Gundham crossed his arms, his hamsters following suit soon after. “Hmph… I’ll have you know, my corporeal form has been purified and treated with the salts of this mortal plane, and wrapped in these mystical strips of flax, to prevent the curse of organic decomposition from taking place.”

“I made it!”

That shout bounced off of the walls of the dining hall as Akane dashed into it, her tongue sticking out of her mouth as she panted crazily and her tail wagging violently behind her.

“I did it in under ten minutes, just like you said to, Coach!”

Nekomaru let out a loud laugh. “I expected nothing less! Your speed is always improving!”

“So…” Akane glanced around the dining hall, an expectant glimmer in her eyes to match the excited smile on her lips. “...where’s my treat? All that running around made me super hungry!”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t forget!” Nekomaru turned in the direction of the kitchen, where you could see Teruteru drying the last of the dishes from the feast he made earlier. “Teruteru, how about whipping up something to reward Akane? I’m never one to discourage a healthy appetite!”

“W-What?” Teruteru widened his eyes as he stared at Nekomaru, before looking between the dishes he had just cleaned and the stone man. “B-But I just finished cleaning up from dinner…”

The chef just stared at Nekomaru, the stone man staring back at him, before he let out a small sigh and began gathering the cooking equipment and ingredients needed to whip up a quick treat for Akane. He soon disappeared into the depths of the kitchen, and your focus was pulled to the entrance of the dining hall as two more — again, unfamiliar — people entered the room.

The girl appeared to be made out of some kind of wood, her movements a bit stiff with a faint creaking sound emitting from her joints as she crossed her arms; she was clearly a puppet of some kind, but lacked the expected strings. “So… this is the human who entered our school…?”

“Well, that’s idiotic of ‘em.” The guy seemed human at a first glance until you noticed the few reptilian features he had, such as his tail and the horns atop his head, which still seemed like they needed more time to grow. He also appeared to have a few scales peppered across his cheeks, which made you think of freckles. “This place is obviously boarded up for a reason…”

“Oh, oh! Almost everyone’s here!”

Ibuki smiled wide as she looked at you, pointing a finger at the girl and then the guy.

“The babe’s Peko and the little guy’s Fuyuhiko!”

Fuyuhiko almost immediately glared at Ibuki, going from zero-to-a-hundred quicker than most would; his temper seemed to go hand-in-hand with his height. “The fuck you just called me?”

“Greetings.” Peko was much calmer in comparison to Fuyuhiko, seeming to pay little to no attention to how Ibuki introduced her, but the way her gaze pierced into you was much more intimidating than you would have expected, and that was when you noticed the sword on her back. “I hope you aren’t here to cause trouble. I would prefer to not have to take you out.”

“Then you can take me out, Peko-Peko!” Ibuki sent a peace sign to Peko, then winked. “Wink!”

You looked around the dining hall as everyone began to mingle with each other, you no longer being the main center of attention, and you realized that if it wasn’t for their — most of their — appearances, they would look like a normal group of teenagers hanging out. It actually caused you to seem even more out of place, being both human and an obvious outsider to their group’s dynamic; you actually started to feel a bit jealous of how close they all seemed with each other.

“Ah, good. Everyone’s arrived in a timely manner, I see.”

“Whoa! You’re the last to arrive?” Hiyoko looked at the last arrival to the dining hall with mock shock displayed on her face, widening her eyes slightly. “That’s not like you, Mr. Fool’s Gold!”

“Hmph, I was just finishing up some last-minute business before coming down here.” The last person was rather large, an almost intense aura of seriousness and regality surrounding him as he stepped further into the room. “This was just an outlier in my otherwise-punctual reputation.”

You couldn’t help but admit to yourself that he looked somewhat familiar, like someone you had seen before somewhere but didn’t personally know. However, there was something seriously off about him, something uncanny that made you tense up as your gaze was solely trained on him.

His footsteps were heavy as he approached the table you were sitting at, and you shrunk a bit in your seat from his piercing gaze, his eyes zoning in on you easily since you stuck out so much.

“Ah… so you’re the human who’s gotten inside our school?”

You swallowed as you stared at him for a moment, before you hesitantly nodded.

“And why exactly are you here? The boarded-up windows and doors clearly suggest that you are not to come inside, and should’ve been warning enough to prevent such irresponsibility.”

“I, uh…” You swallowed again, your mouth feeling dry as your eyes flickered around at all the people surrounding you. You had people sitting on both sides of you, and some even standing behind you, so you couldn’t exactly run away from this. “...I came here with some new friends- well, not really “friends”, but some people I met at my new school. They… they tricked me into coming here and locked the door behind me, so I was just trying to look for a way out…?”

“Hmph.” He crossed his arms, averting his gaze. “...so you’re here because of a juvenile prank.”

“...yep.”

Hiyoko stifled a laugh with her hand. “Oooh, so they’ve sent you to your death?”

“Please stop saying stuff like that!” You clasped your hands in front of your chest, keeping your gaze cast down at your lap. “I’m sorry if I did something wrong! I-I didn’t mean to come here!”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Chiaki placed a hand on your shoulder, and you winced as you felt a small bit of static electricity come from her touch. “You didn’t do anything wrong. There’s no bad guy here.”

“Well, prank or not, this is still a serious matter.” Nekomaru put his hand to his chin, seeming to think for a moment. “This human’s gotten inside the school and seen all of us. That’s not good.”

“To be perceived by a mortal’s eyes…” Gundham crossed his arms, his hamsters resting on his shoulders and snuggling into his scarf. “Truly a troubling situation, a fortune most unfortunate.”

“Oh, I don’t mind being perceived-” Teruteru finally joined the group, placing a plate in front of Akane before wiping his hands with a dishtowel. “-especially when it’s by such a darling human.”

You scooted slightly closer to Chiaki, leaning towards her for comfort.

“I don’t get what the big deal is.” Akane stuffed her mouth full of her “treat”, which turned out to be some kind of meat that smelled really good. “I mean, we let Hajime and Nagito hang around.”

Hajime let a faint smile onto his face, his hand raising to touch the scar on his head with his fingers, letting them trail along it. “Yeah, but… I think our cases are a bit different than theirs.”

“The only thing we share with them is biology.” Nagito also smiled a bit, his elbows resting on the table in front of him as he leaned forward. “But besides that… there’s nothing in common.”

“Well, if you want them silenced…” Fuyuhiko smirked. “I’ve got methods.”

The dining hall went silent aside from a few gasps escaping from some of the members of the group, all eyes on the reptilian boy; the fairy princess sitting beside you notably put her hands over her mouth, her eyes widened, while Chiaki furrowed her eyebrows. There were a few jaws dropped, Ibuki’s and Kazuichi’s more prominent than everyone else’s, and you couldn’t help but be thankful that most of the people here seemed to not want your human blood on their hands.

Peko blinked as she looked at Fuyuhiko, her eyes widened slightly. “Young master…?”

“Huh? What?” Fuyuhiko dropped his smirk as he looked around at everyone, genuine confusion on his face before brief realization and then a glare. “Goddamnit, I don’t mean killing them! I just mean blackmail and threats! There’s more than one way to keep someone silent, you guys!”

The presumed ring leader of the group, Mr. Fool’s Gold — no one had called him anything else — let out a hum. “While that is a solution, this situation doesn’t really call for that kind of action.”

You felt another zap of static electricity shock your shoulder as Chiaki gave it a gentle squeeze, and you looked at her to see her smiling at you; even though her presence meant having to get zapped every so often, she was definitely one of the more approachable people you had met.

She then turned her attention to her friends, her smile unwavering.

“I don’t think that’s necessary. They’re not a threat, and we can definitely trust them… I think.”

“I second that!” Sonia put a hand up into the air, a smile gracing her lips as well. “I do not believe they mean us any harm. Punishment for being the victim of a prank is not needed.”

“Well… if Miss Sonia says so…” Kazuichi looked a little uneasy, scratching his neck before he gave a thumbs-up. “Then they’re also good with me! Miss Sonia’s never wrong, after all!”

The hamsters on Gundham’s shoulders squeaked, and he chuckled. “Both the Dark Fae Queen and my Dark Devas say that the mortal is trustworthy… their judgement is not to be questioned.”

“Ibuki trusts them too!” Ibuki was shouting again, and had to pause briefly as she lowered her voice. “Though Ibuki hasn’t known them long, they don’t seem to be anything to worry about!”

“Well, duh!” Hiyoko giggled. “Even Mikan could easily take them out. They’re totally pathetic!”

Mikan nervously smiled, fidgeting with her hands as she kept her gaze averted from everyone else. “N-No, I’m sure they could maybe fight back… a-a little. If they tried really hard to do so.”

“I don’t think they would fight back.” Mahiru adjusted her camera in her hands, a smile also on her face. “They don’t seem like they want to hurt anyone at all, that picture’s pretty clear to me.”

“Well, then.”

The attention in the dining hall was brought back over to Mr. Fool’s Gold, and you shrunk a little under his gaze, though the feeling of another shocking squeeze to your shoulder comforted you.

“You. Do you have any intention of telling anyone what you saw here?”

You shook your head. “No…”

“You’ll make no mention of anything that happened? About the school or the people here?”

You shook your head again. “No.”

Mr. Fool’s Gold seemed to think to himself for a moment, his arms still crossed and his posture still perfectly straight, and after a few seconds of pure silence in the dining hall, he let out a sigh.

“Then I suppose you may go… but if you do happen to reveal the truths of this place to anyone on the outside, we will find out. That would be troublesome, though, so please do not do that.”

“Okay…”

He glanced around at the others, everyone still focusing their attention on him. “Now, will someone please escort them out? And check the doors while you’re at it as well, please.”

Chiaki stood up, her hand still on your shoulder, and you stood up soon after her, the others in the dining hall beginning to chat with one another again — though some still had words for you.

“Oh! Oh! Since you know everything now, you can totally come back if you want!” Ibuki jumped up from her seat, climbing atop the table to look down at you from her new vantage point as she formed glasses with her fingers. “Ibuki’s spotted a new friend, and she can’t just let that go!”

“It would be lovely, if you could!” Sonia continued to sit in her seat, her hands in her lap before she raised them up to clap them together once, her smile bright. “We don’t get to show our true selves to others often, so it’d be nice to have another person we can just be ourselves around.”

Gundham let out a low laugh as his hamsters squeaked. “The Dark Devas of Destruction give you their blessing to return, if your mortal heart would even be able to withstand their power.”

“Just… stay safe and all that.” Hajime had a slight smile on his face. “You should probably not sneak into any “abandoned” buildings again. You’re kind of lucky that we’re all you ran into.”

Fuyuhiko put his hands in his pockets, his lips turned down into a stern frown as he approached you. “Remember: keep quiet. You don’t wanna know what might happen if you don’t, ya hear?”

You just gave a slight nod before Chiaki escorted you out of the dining hall, the sound of various goodbyes and farewells ringing out from everyone; the shift from a bright crowded room to a dim empty hallway was jarring, but the dusty old building seemed a lot less intimidating than before.

You were finally going to get to leave.

- - - - -

The front entrance door was covered in wooden boards, the glass cracked with some pieces of it missing underneath; it was just like you remembered it being from all those many hours ago.

Chiaki pushed open the door, letting a cool breeze of the night air blow into the entrance hall and into your face — the air was so fresh and crisp compared to what you had been breathing for the last couple of hours that you could almost start crying, but you were also too tired to do so. The area outside the door was empty of life, the sound of city life echoing in the distance.

Those “friends” from before were gone, almost as if they had never been there.

They probably left hours ago after getting bored, while you had been fearing for your life.

“You okay?”

You snapped out of your thoughts as you looked over at Chiaki, a curious look on her face as she tilted her head. You blinked a few times as your brain thought about what she asked you.

“...yeah, I’m fine.”

Chiaki let a smile onto her face, letting out a small hum as she placed a hand on her chest. “...you know, you really can visit whenever you’d like. I don’t think anyone here would mind.”

“That’s… a nice offer.” You smiled back, shifting a bit in place where you stood. “Though… do you guys always meet up in the middle of the night, or was this a special thing, or, like, what…?”

“Yep.” Chiaki nodded her head. “It’s the safest and most convenient time for us to gather at the school. We all have lives during the day, so nighttime is pretty much the only option that works.”

“...got it.”

You took a few steps out into the cool night air, taking in a few deep breaths of air that made it feel as if your lungs were singing at how fresh it was, and you shivered slightly before hugging yourself with your arms. You then looked over your shoulder at Chiaki, who still smiled at you.

“I… don’t know if I’d be able to come here often, but… I could visit every once in a while…?”

Chiaki seemed to perk up as her soft smile brightened a little under the moonlight as she closed her eyes and removed her hand from her chest. “That’s great! We’ll all be looking forward to it!”

You managed to wave at Chiaki, the gamer girl returning it, before she closed the entrance door to the school, a loud click sounding as she made sure to lock it properly. You let your eyes linger on the school for a moment, taking in how it really did look abandoned; there was no hint or sign that there was anyone currently occupying the building, the school grounds just quiet and dark.

You then turned away from the school and let out a small sigh, beginning to walk away from the old school building. Your footsteps crunched under your feet from dead leaves and branches.

“...I really hope I’m not going crazy.”

#danganronpa #danganronpa oneshot #super danganronpa 2 #sdr2 #danganronpa goodbye despair #goodbye despair #sdr2 goodbye despair #super danganronpa 2 oneshot #danganronpa x reader #sdr2 x reader #danganronpa reader insert #danganronpa monster au #halloween oneshot #halloween special #x reader #reader insert #monster au

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serenityseventeen · 3 years

Text

♪ The Last Day of Summer With You

Dino/Lee Chan : Firefly Meadow

Chan groaned in exhaustion as he continued walking down the dirt road with you on his back.

On the way up the hill, you had tripped over a thick tree branch and sprained your ankle, which was to you, a complete disappointment. You had waited until the last day of summer to take him to a forest meadow to see fireflies only for an unplanned disaster to occur.

“Just a bit more,” You said quietly, after hearing Chan's exhausted breaths. Even though you got hurt and felt bad for having Chan carry you, you wanted to desperately see the lightning bugs. You rested your head on his shoulder and said, “I told you that you don't have to carry me all the way over here, I could walk.”

Chan, despite being quite obvious about the fact that his energy was getting drained, smiled and chuckled. “It's okay. If that sprain was not enough for you to go back, I'm just going to trust you that there's something beautiful up here,” Chan replied, looking ahead. He could see the dirt path slowly fade to just green grass.

It was getting dark and if you had to estimate, you would guess that it was probably around 9 pm. The way up wasn't easy but now that you two have reached a certain point, it was quite easy to tell that the floor was evening out. Trees were surrounding the path and Chan felt a bit skeptical about the place as he looked around.

He didn't know about the fireflies yet.

As you two traveled further away from your car that was parked at the street nearby, deeper into the forest, you could see hints of the destination approaching. You found this place when you were following a rabbit while you were young, and though you've always somewhat hated the look of bugs, whenever you saw fireflies, you'd get reminded that everything ugly in life still had beauty in it.

You wanted to share this special place, that you were sure no one knew of, with the most special person in the world. You wanted to thank Chan for being the kindest, most loving, caring, and helpful boyfriend. Through thick and thin, snowy storms and sunny weather, Chan was always there by your side. Now that another summer with him was about to pass by, you wanted to tell him how special he was.

While he continued to walk, you took out your phone and turned on the flashlight, making sure that it was bright enough to light up the night. Then, in a reassuring voice, you told him, “I have a small surprise for you, do you mind if I cover your eyes?”

“Cover my eyes??” Chan was taken aback by the question but he knew that if he wanted a good surprise, he had to at least follow your conditions but even so, Chan tilted his head doubtingly. “How long will you cover them for?”

You estimated how long it would take for Chan to walk to the firefly heaven, and concluded, “Around 30 seconds? Just keep walking forward, the path onward is flat but the grass is tall.”

As your hands went on to cover Chan's eyes, he adjusted his grip and your position on his back with a little jump and continued.

Of course, Chan was terrified. As if walking in a forest during the late evening wasn't scary enough, he had to walk with his eyes covered. Sometimes, he would even become paranoid, thinking that he'd be carrying a ghost or something, so he'd always ask you something and hear your warm responses to chase away the fear.

The meadow was like a clearing in the forest. The grass gradually grew taller and there weren't many trees anymore, only one or two in the middle of the field.

At first, you were afraid that the glowing bugs wouldn't be there, or if there were, there wouldn't be many, since fireflies were primarily present during late spring to early summer. You did know, however, that sometimes fireflies could live on or have twinkling bottoms a bit later in the humid weather. You just had to hope that there were some.

With a soft sigh, you looked down at the meadow.

More disappointment. You should have checked for fireflies the day prior. You felt stupid for not doing so.

There was nothing.

No twinkling bugs, no fairyland.

With a sigh, your hands slipped off of Chan's eyes.

“We're too late. The fireflies are gone.”

“Fireflies? What fireflies?” Chan asked. You let yourself down and while hopping on one leg, you took a hold of the tree behind you. The bark was rather smooth rather than rough.

“In the summer, there are fireflies here. I should have taken you here earlier, at the beginning of summer, not at the end...” You looked down, plucking a piece of long grass and fidgeting with it, feeling that everything had been ruined. You continued to mutter, “I wanted to make it special so that you could know that you're special to me.”

Chan felt his heart smile. “Well, it's okay, we don't need to see fireflies... I don't like bugs anyway.”

He had a joking tone, meant for you to laugh, and he didn't fail at that. You just found yourself chortling at what he said because you knew it was somewhat sincere.

“The fireflies are really beautiful,” You commented, looking ahead at the darkness of the forest. “I will make sure to take you here again to see them.”

“I'll wait for that then, but you don't need to wait to tell me that you adore me,” Chan replied, putting his arm around your shoulders to help you stabilize and comfort you. “I mean, you already make me feel special everyday. Who needs lightning bugs? You're already the sun of my world, I don't need anything else.”

You chuckled softly and confessed, “I thought you were gonna say that I was already like a lightning bug, but fortunately, you called me the sun instead.”

Chan chuckled and looked forward, where in the distance, he saw the faint blink of a neon yellowish light with a tint of green.

You dropped your head, and commented quietly, “Still, I think we wasted our time coming up here.”

There was a silence of words as Chan stared at the firefly, subconsciously reaching his hand out toward it. It flew rhythmically, from left to right, high to low, eventually landing on Chan's hand. You were staring at the ground, still bummed, when you felt a slight tap on your shoulder.

You looked up and were met with a cute little beetle. The bottom of the beetle was glowing and its little light was somehow enough. You and Chan looked at each other, amazed at the little beauty. You both smiled, your eyes reflecting the bug's neon glow, your eyes following it as it flew off into the distance.

“I think the climb was worth it,” Chan said, turning to you. He took your hand and gave it a soft kiss. “We got to see a firefly like what you wanted.”

“That's not what I wanted, I wanted a whole pack of them. It would have made this meadow light up like a magical land!” You smiled as you complained, knowing that you felt satisfied.

Chan clapped his hands together. “I've never seen a firefly up close but it looked and made this land so magical, it almost felt unreal. Anyway, I'm happy to have come here with you. It felt special.”

You smiled, chuckling at your boyfriend's simple but sincere words. You could tell that not one of his words was an exaggeration even if it did seem like it since the sentences were so brazen.

“Thank you,” Chan said, brushing his thumb across your hand softly.

You didn't know how to respond. You just felt euphoric at the beautiful moment, making it seem like a hundred fireflies were lighting up the place brilliantly when there was only darkness and the flashlight from your phone as a light source.

You felt thankful to that one lightning bug that was like a blessing.

Noticing the shifting weather, Chan slipped his hand away from your shoulder, walked in front of you, and crouched down. You couldn't see his face but you were sure that he was smiling as he said the next sentence in a gentle voice.

“Climb on, honey, let's head back.”

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a/n: Today's IN THE SOOP ep made me cry- I cried when Seungkwan and Chan had their talk at the Tarp Zone because that was so wholesome and just so- beautiful to see them care for each other... But then I must've looked crazy because after that, I began laughing when they began reminiscing their past lol (and why are they so effortlessly funny lol) + I need to get that Dino fic done... I don't want to work on many things simultaneously, I can see the end!! + And guys- what if- what if i become a dinonara!?!? considering switching my bias to dino, sorry wonu... but I might not change??

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joonkorre · 3 years

Text

Rules for Night Guards at Golden Locket Ent.

@drarrymicrofic prompt: sunrise/sunset. ao3

Hello to the new hire,

I know you must be confused. Why are you finding this raggedy piece of paper in your brand new office? Well, first of all, there’s a reason why they keep this office shiny and clean. If it’s not spotless by sunrise, would anyone take the job?

Either way, I’m the one making sure this paper is found by new hires (perks of being a janitor with all the keys). The higher-ups don’t know this building like I do; they know that people can’t work here for even a week, and that’s it. They don’t know enough to solve the problem, they’re too scared to, and no one bothers to ask an ancient janitor.

After your first night here, though, you’ll have a lot to ask. The janitorial staff is not allowed to speak to any employee, including you, so read this document carefully. I’d say take pictures of it front and back, but taking out your phone to access them on the job might not be a good idea, especially as the night progresses.

Again, read this until the rules are tattooed in your head. Many have not heeded me. They’ve either quit or lost more than a job.

Pay attention.

Rules for Night Guards at Golden Locket Ent.

[DO NOT DEFACE THIS DOCUMENT IN ANY MANNER]

Always arrive at your office before sundown. That’s why you’re called here early. The door doesn’t have to be locked, but stay in your office.

8 PM is when your shift starts. Begin by doing your routine check, two rounds for each floor. Finish the 1st floor in no more than 25 minutes.

If you see trespassers, don’t bother chasing them out if you see upturned rubbish bins (see Rule #8).

There will be another night guard who also has a document of their own. Greet them, remember their face. Don’t be surprised if you see a different person the next day, you know how it is around here.

You might meet another person as you walk up the stairs to the 2nd floor. They look the same as the other night guard, but there are slight differences. It doesn’t work here. Do not respond to any and all of its attempts at getting your attention.

After 9 PM, don’t look out the floor-to-ceiling window on the 3rd floor. It will be difficult and the noise will only get louder, but it is strongly recommended that you do not look. Be patient, it will be gone.

Leave the opened file cabinets be.

Be mindful of upturned rubbish bins. If you see one, hide in an office and lock it. It’s some of the building’s inhabitants’ feeding time. Wait until the second set of footsteps passes, then you can come out.

On the 4th floor, there will be a man with glasses. Sometimes you’ll see a boy or a teenager instead, but the glasses are the same. Engage in conversation with him. Deny that you work here.

If the man finds you interesting, he will walk with you as you continue your routine check, and will eventually ask you to let him out. There is no telling how he’d react, but the best response is a polite rejection as you “don’t work here and don’t have the right.” He might use other means of persuasion, in which case defend yourself and/or negotiate with him as best as you can. This is where many people have failed the test.

Between the hours of 10:21 PM and 11:09 PM, it is imperative that you return to your office and monitor the building using the security camera system. Do not go out to the courtyard before your shift is over. Only the other security guard knows the rules to navigate it.

Camera #3 has to be off. If it turns on, cover it entirely.

At 1 AM, there will be two knocks on your door. You will open it and find no one outside. Remark on it aloud, then lock your door, both bolts. Sit with your back facing it.

The paper shredder near the right of your work desk might move when you are not looking. It is always unplugged. If it turns on and alerts you of jammed paper, don’t fix it. Fingers aren’t easy for us to scrub out.

You are to stay out of your office from 2:16 AM to 3:26 AM. No source of light other than your company-issued flashlight is permitted when you are in the halls at this time, including phones and other smart devices. They will deceive you.

Camera #11 will show a being running just off-screen. When it does, check your door three times to ensure that it’s locked. You will have to re-lock it.

The man with glasses will stand in front of the 4th floor's fire exit and look directly at Camera #7. There will be a banging on your door, which will increase in intensity. No matter how tempting it is, do not open the door under any circumstances.

The man will start to talk about how you look very similar to his best friends—a man with ginger hair who can "eat anything" and a curly-haired woman who is "smarter than Einstein" are described—and will plead with you to help him escape. If you are a man with blonde hair, it’s reported that instead of comparing you to his friends, he’ll threaten to “throw you into [redacted] to rot with your fucking father when [he] gets [his] hands on you," and grows extremely hostile. Do what you can to keep him from breaking the door down.

When a camera moves, turn off all the lights in your office. Hiding under the desk for at least five minutes is encouraged if you want to lessen the chances of the creature seeing you.

Remain in your office when you’re done with your tasks until dawn. After sunrise, you’re allowed to walk around inside the building. Leave using the front entrance when your shift ends at 6 AM.

I admit this doesn't sound fun at all. But as someone who’s worked here for longer than she can remember, once you’re used to all the quirks of this place, it’s worth it. High wages, no nosy bosses hovering over your shoulders, great benefits. You can do whatever you want in your office, as long as you follow the rules. Trust me, you’ll like this job.

Just keep an eye on the monitor and the clock, will you?

P.S: If you're able to read this postscript, I know you have a wand. Call me Muggle, No-Maj, whatever, but I’ve seen it all. Here’s a final piece of advice for people like you—your neat little sticks are useless here. Feel free to try, but it’s better to leave it at home than have a broken wand, no?

[crackling noise]

“Hello, uh, Jaclynn, is it?”

-Hey, Drake. And yeah! Ha, wow, this is kinda weird. I’ve never used a walkie-talkie before.-

“Me too. Um, question, do you have a… an old-looking… letter? On your desk? Maybe in a cabinet?”

-Oh, um.-

“Jaclynn?”

-You… received that document, too? With all the rules?-

“Yes, actually. Reckon it's some sort of idiotic prank by the last night guard, right.”

-I, I don’t know, to be honest. I mean… I thought it was, but it’s. It’s starting. Whatever’s going on, it’s right there in the rules.-

[pause]

“Shite.”

-Yeah, I get that. Fuck, I’m scared, haha, fuck. Is it starting for you, also?-

“Not for another, ah, 10 minutes. I can’t leave my office until then.”

-Okay. Okay. I’m not supposed to come into the building.-

“And I’m not supposed to come out to the courtyard.”

-Fuck.-

[pause]

[distant whistling]

-Fuck, fuck, it’s here. It’s here.-

“Okay, alright, stay calm. Stay alive. We both stay alive our first night, and I’ll, I’ll get us kebabs.”

-Not sounding too confident there, mister.-

“I promise. We adapt, we survive, we get our paycheck, and we eat good food. By 6 in the morning, we’ll meet by the front gate.”

-Goodness, Drake, that sounds so nice.-

“Mhmm. I’ll have this thing turned off the whole night, you should do the same. Read your rules, okay?”

-Same goes for you. You owe me kebabs and Indian, too.-

“Noted. Good luck, Jaclynn.”

-Don’t die, Drake.-

[crackling sound]

[silence]

#drarrymicrofic #drarry #drarry fic #drarry fanfic #draco malfoy #harry potter #living-in-the-muggle-world draco malfoy #cryptid (?) harry potter #what is the best r/nosleep genre and why is it always about rules #fucking love that shit #i was gonna write something sentimental but i couldn't get the idea of #being stuck in a horrific situation out of my head #spoilers both jaclynn and 'drake' survive and they have a lot of #celebratory meals together bc wlw mlm solidarity #and whatever is going on w the building & the man on the 4th floor..#'drake' is determined to find out. good for him #joonkorre writes

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anastasiyaigorevnadobrodevskaya · 3 years

Text

Kuka pelkää pimeää? - Kaapo Kakko

A/N: I hope you will enjoy the reading as much as I enjoyed the writing. A big thank you goes to everyone who has supported me. Here on tumblr I’d like to thank @nhlandotherimagines personally. Thank you Jessie.

Kuka pelkää pimeää? - Who is afraid of the dark?

The song mentioned.

Word count: 1764

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Having a relationship with a hockey player can get hard at times. It can get even worse if both sides of the relationship are working for a professional hockey team. Boy, can it get even worse if those teams happen to be the division rivals in the NHL.

The whole situation was tense as it was before the corona decided to lock me up with my boyfriend at our shared apartment in New York. Between his crazy schedule and mine, just as chaotic one, it is very difficult to find some peaceful time for one another.

Having just returned from a roadie, which was successful taking 4 out of 6 points, I close the door behind me as quietly as possible. It’s already late and Kaapo leaves for a couple of away games of his own tomorrow morning. Which doesn’t give us much time to spend together, but at least we can sleep in the same bed for once.

I change sleepily and get ready for bed trying to not make too much noise. After dragging myself out of the bathroom I slip under the covers right next to the sleeping body of my boyfriend. He stirs in his sleep, slowly turning around so he is facing me.

“Hei. How was your flight?“ His soft mumbling is barely audible and his hands reach out wrapping around my waist. His fingers slipping under the fabric of my T-shirt.

“It was okay. Guys were pain in the ass as usual.“ I laugh nuzzling my head into his chest rumbling with laughter. “But I am damn tired.“ I add a yawn for demonstration.

A chuckle leaves his pretty lips as his big hands caress my bare back. “Then sleep.” He advises, voice laced with sleep I unintentionally woke him from. I hum in response closing my eyes. I relax into the soft mattress listening to the even breathing of my beloved one.

Lying in bed I try to drift off to dream, but fail terribly. Again. Decided I’ve had enough I reach for my phone and turn it back on. Throwing the covers off of me I sit up and rub my face, annoyed at my inability to fall asleep despite being tired. I reach for my wireless headphones and put them on pairing them with my phone. I put on a rather calming playlist and click on the flashlight icon.

Tiptoeingly I leave the room making sure to close the door behind me and head for the living room. I turn on the light hanging above the kitchen island and grab a glass filling it with water to the very brim. I chug down almost half of its content and set the rest on the marble surface.

I walk over to an armchair and push it to the floor to ceiling window. I stop and cringe slightly when it makes a disturbing noise. I throw myself on it with a heavy sigh escaping my lips. Closing my eyes I take a deep breath. I focus on the music reaching my ears. The gentle tones infecting my brain trying to get it to loosen up.

I open my eyes taking a look at the city below. It never sleeps. No matter the crazy hour there’s always someone driving the busy roads. It’s as if the dark sky was outstretching its arms and reaching for people in an attempt to put them to sleep. Humans, ever the persistent creatures, are escaping its hold with cars lighting up the roads and apartments with yellow light seeping through the glass and blinds.

I hate the dark. In fact it terrifies me. I bring my knees under my chin and hug my legs close to my body. The unknown danger hiding in the shadows scares me. I no longer check under my bed for monsters. I don’t need to. They are in the streets, we meet them daily, although we don’t realize. But walking home alone in the dark makes my blood run cold at times. I can’t stand it, no matter how old I am.

Finnish songs from my playlist come up and I smile. They always remind me of Kaapo. An instant mood lifter. One song catches my attention. Kuka pelkää pimeää from Herrat. How fitting, eh? It's about two people being the only ones wide awake at a late night hour. The sleeping city and stars shining above it, but them not being afraid of the dark. I wish. I think bitterly.

I sing along quietly, imagining driving around the city with Kaapo. With no destination in mind, just driving. Probably listening to our favorite songs and messing up the lyrics, especially me making up new Finnish words and him laughing at and with me. He rarely smiles, but when he does it’s so worth it. He saves it for the good moments. With him I would drive even at the darkest of the nights.

A happy sigh escapes my lips as another of the songs I keep deep within my heart comes up. I look around the apartment, the only source of light being the one I left on at the kitchen island.

A figure standing in the living room doorway catches my attention and I shriek. Pulling my headphones down I reach for my phone, panicking. The person steps into the light and I release a breath I forgot I was holding in the rush of it all.

"Jesus fucking Christ. Are you insane?" I almost yell with a trembling voice. I add a couple more swear words, mumbling them under my breath and in a language my boyfriend speaks ever so fluently.

"I-I am sorry. I didn't want to scare you." Kaapo apologizes, the tips of his ears turning red. Coming up to me I stand up and he wraps his arms around my shaking figure. "I am sorry." He whispers in his native language.

"You scared the hell out of me." I whine placing my head on his firm chest. He just holds me closer and rubs my back soothingly. "What were you even doing standing in the shadow like that?"

"You weren't in bed." His voice is laced with concern, his accent heavy.

"Couldn't sleep." I say in Finnish. My knowledge of that language is not great, but I like it and it makes him more comfortable. It makes our talks more private. More intimate. "I am sorry, I woke you. You should sleep. You have a flight in the morning."

"And you just came back. You are tired too. Come back to bed." He tries to reason with me.

"But I can't sleep." Arguing back I shake my head in his chest.

"And if I help you sleep?"

"How?" Lifting my head I look into his blue eyes.

"Trust me?" Brushing a strand of hair behind my ear his fingers brush my cheek gently.

"Kyllä." I breathe and nod.

Taking me by the hand he walks to the island turning the lights off. The moment it goes dark my heart rate picks up. "Kaapo." He squeezes my palm reassuringly.

"I am right here with you." He pulls me to his chest. Taking me by my thighs he lifts me up. My limbs instantly wrap around him and I burry my face in his neck. "It's alright." Turning his head he kisses my hair and starts walking back to our bedroom.

Flicking on the bedside lamp he sets me on the mattress. He then turns around opening the wardrobe and shuffling around for something. I take off the headphones from around my neck and put them on the bedside table. Tilting my head I watch him, but remain quiet, more than interested in what he is up to. Pulling out a small box he sets it on the ground pluging it in.

He looks up at me with a soft smile. I remember the box! I gave it to him on his birthday. He turns the lamp off and then presses a button on the box. The dark room lights up with many little white starts and green and blue clouds moving like Aurora Borealis. My heart bursts with so much love at this moment.

It's a star projector I gifted him because he missed Finland so much and I thought that seeing the stars would remind him of home. It did. He was so happy he couldn’t stop smiling. I was never more proud of myself as back then for picking the right gift. That is actually how I found out about his interest in the stars.

He climbs onto the bed laying down on his back. Reaching for me he pulls me to his side. He takes the duvet pulling it on top of us. I place my head on his shoulder and his warm palms settle on my waist. “Can you point the Polaris?” He whispers into my hair.

“Of course. It’s uh-“ I let my eyes wander across the ceiling. “There. Pohjantähti.“ I point to a star. “On the right from the light.“ I explain excitedly. “It is part of Big dipper which is uh- Otava in Finnish!“ I look up at him to see if I remembered right.

“Very good.“ He smiles squeezing my hip. “And that,“ he points up, “is Iso karhu. The big bear?“ He questions the last part, unsure of the English translation.

“The great bear. Yes.“ I giggle. “But there is one star missing, no?“ If I recall correctly there should be a mistake in the image. I mean, when we turned it on for the first time Kaapo pointed out the absence of one star.

“Yes, Mizar is not there.“ He confirms. “I still can’t understand how they forgot Mizar when Alcor is right there. Mizar even shines brighter than Alcor!“ He shakes his head. I smile at his passion and the unintentional English thrown into the mix.

“Minä rakastan sinua.“ I whisper filling the silence that settled between us.

“I love you too.“ He mumbles the cute way he always does.

We continue lying in our bed talking about stars we miss so much. I feel my eyelids grow heavy and slowly the stars fade from my view. I feel a shift on the bed and decide to protest. “Don’t leave.”

“I am just going to turn it off.“ He whispers and suddenly his warmth is gone. I pout sleepily reaching my arms out grabbing onto the empty air. I hear a click and feel the bed dip. Then his arms wrap around me and a content smile takes over my face. “Hyvää yöta.“

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Translations:

Kyllä. - Yes.

Pohjantähti - Polaris

Iso karhu - The great bear

Minä rakastan sinua. - I love you.

Hyvää yöta. - Good night.

A/N: Hopefully it was worth the wait.

#kaapo kakko gif #kaapo kakko imagine #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #new york rangers imagine #kaapo kakko #hockey #nhl #New York Rangers #hockey fanfiction #hockey imagines #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagines

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babybuckleys · 4 years

Text

In Jail & Needing Bail.

Drew & Rudy x Reader. (just friends but a bit flirtier with Drew.)

Summary: Hanging out with the outer banks cast was always eventful but you didn't expect to be in a jail cell with two of your closest friends.

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: trespassing, smoking, a few bad words.

A/N: this is my first fic with no relationship and the most warnings so bare with me. But the boys look so hot in handcuffs. Also I do not know anything about prison. This is my first fic on here, hope you like it. (I guess this means im open to requests.)

Nothing was supposed to happen, you guys were just supposed to be having a good time . Now you were sitting in a jail cell with Drew and Rudy. Now if we back up a few hours to where it all started this would all make sense.

You were all sitting in Chase’s apartment and were starting to get bored. Earlier in the day everyone had come over and you guys had a movie marathon day. But now as it was starting to reach around 10pm and people were starting to get antsy. LA usually was very awake at 10pm, people at restaurants and just walking around the city. So when Madison suggested that you guys go explore the city everyone agreed. Anything to get out of the stuffy apartment.

As you headed into town someone through the bunch of your friends suggested first you should grab a bite to eat. Food was important if you wanted to last the night so a bunch of murmurs were heard throughout the crowd. After finishing up, you guys headed on a walk to wherever your feet would take you.

LA had many different sides to it. There was the jam packed side overflowing with people and places. Then there was the sketichier side of LA. The side where it was darker and there were less open shops and buildings. As you and your friends headed to the darker side of LA you huddled closer together. Still laughing and having a good time together. As you headed forward, your group of friends came to a halt. You lost your balance a little since you were towards the back and it was an unexpected stop. Everyone looked forward to see what was up.

“Shit look guys.” Chase said. Everyone followed his gaze to an abandoned house in the middle of the street.

“How about we sneak in, we got nothing to lose.” Austin spoke out.

“I don't think that a good idea, it's kind of scary.” Madelyn said.

“Yeah I agree” Madison and you said.

“Come on, let's live a little.” Drew said as he bumped your shoulder with you. Drew was your best friend, also as was Rudy. So usually when you guys told each other stuff to do, you guys did it no matter the circumstance.

“Sure, why not.” you told him, what you did for and with your best friends you thought as you shook your head.

The boys headed in first and you girls stuck behind. What a great way to be spending a night in LA with your friends. In an abandoned house at midnight. You weren't one to break the rules so when you didn't see any sign about no trespassing you though it was ok. At first it was kind of scary but after the eerie feeling went away you decided to walk around and explore. Some of your friends even thought it was a perfect time to record it for their Instagram stories. You headed one way by yourself as your friends all headed separate ways. You turned on the flashlight on your phone and tried not to be too scared. As you were walking more you heard creaking but thought that maybe they were just your steps.

“Boo.” Drew grabbed your shoulders and whispered in your ear. You screamed and dropped your phone. You heard the scatter of your friends footsteps as they ran to the source of the screaming.

“You're an ass for doing that, you know that.” you told Drew as you shoved him.

“But you love me.” he said as he wrapped your arms around you.

“Y/N, you ok?” asked Madison, searching for your voice in the pitch black building. Out of the two girls you were always closer to her, and talked to her when you couldn't talk to the two boys. Soon they all reached you and Drew.

“Yeah I am, someone just decided to be childish and scare me.” you told her. Soon you all explored together. For the next thirty minutes you walked around. It started to get around 1:30am and Jonathan started to yawn. You knew that it was about time to head out since it was getting late and you guys were getting tired.

As the rest of your friends headed out, you stayed behind to tie your shoe. Rudy stayed behind so you wouldn't be alone. As you got up from tying your shoe, you felt around your pockets for your phone.

“My phone, shit where's my phone.” you said as you frantically searched your clothing pockets.

“How about we retrace your steps, when was the last time you had it?”

“Uhm I think it was when Drew scared me.” you thought as you remembered that when you guys were upstairs you must have dropped it. As you guys were headed upstairs Drew headed in to see what was taking so long.

“Hey guys y'all aren't doing any funny business.” Drew said as he walked in with his hands over his hands.

“Shut up Starkey, we aren't even dating.” you said as you looked at him. You were best friends with both boys but always tended to be a bit more flirty with Drew, but of course would never date any of them, because you liked how your friendship worked.

“Ok then what's taking so long.” he said in an exasperated tone.

“I lost my phone and don't know where it is. Can you help us find it?”

“But we gotta hurry up cause this place is giving me the creeps.” Drew said hugging his hands to himself.

You guys laughed as all three of you headed up stairs to the last spot you were at. While you were looking, your other friends were outside.

Currently waiting for the rest of you to come out. “What's taking them so long, it's getting cold.” Madelyn said.

“Maybe someone should go check on them.” suggested Madison. As your friends played rock,paper, scissors to decide who would go in; they saw police lights in the distance.

“Shit are they coming this way?” Chase asked.

“Nah I don't think so, maybe it's a coincidence.” said Austin. As your friends continued on waiting for you they heard the speaker of the police car.

“Hands up where I can see them.” said the police officer through the megaphone.

“Shit , shit, run.” said Jonathon.

“Shouldn't we wait for them or at least warn them.” Madison said worried about the rest of her friends.

“I don't think that's a good idea, our best bet right now is to run or else we’re going to get arrested,” Chase said. Your friends ran as fast as they could as you guys inside headed back downstairs.

You headed outside and the first thing you heard was “hands on your head and step out carefully.” You couldn't believe you were about to get arrested and where were your other friends? Nowhere to be seen.

“No fucking way.” Rudy said.

As you stepped down towards the cops they handcuffed you all a bit too roughly. “Anything you say will be held against you.” he said as he put all of you in the back of the cop car. As you started to drive off Drew spoke up.

“I guess it's time to take a ride downtown.” You just shook your head as you buried your head into your hands. Rudy put a hand on your leg to ease the tension. You could not believe you had just gotten arrested for trespassing with your two best friends.

As you were put into a cell all you could think about was how this was crazy. Drew and Rudy were handcuffed together in one corner and you were in the other. You werent gonna lie, your two best friends were attractive but something about them handcuffed together just sparked something in you.

“I don't understand why we have to be handcuffed, it's not like we are going to fight each other.”

“Well I got to say it's pretty hot that you too are handcuffed.” you didn't know where you got this new source of confidence and you were kind of shocked.

“Damn Y/N, jail is turning you wild.” Drew said. You looked down blushing and ignored his comment. Rudy was becoming stressed, you could tell because first he was shaking his leg up and down. Next he did something that he only did when he was stressed, he pulled out a cigarette.

He started smoking it and offered Drew one too. “You want one Y/N?” he asked.

“No thanks Pankow, two people smoking in here is enough.” You weren't a fan of smoking but again something about your friends in handcuffs and smoking was so hot. You sat in a corner and hoped that you could get out of this soon. Because you didn't think that you could last much longer in here with your friends looking that hot, barely doing anything and you not doing anything stupid. The officer came in a bit later and said that you guys can call someone.

“You guys get one call, make it worth it,” he said in a grumpy voice.

“What the hell, why do we only get one call if there are three of us.” Drew questioned.

“Watch you tone.” the officer said. You grabbed his arm and looked at him in reassurance to not say anything else. “Hey it's ok, they'll answer.” You really hoped your friends answered. You weren't sure what time it was but you decided that your best bet was calling Madison, she had always been there for you so you hoped this was the case.

You punched in her number and after three rings there was static on the other end.

“Hello, Madi, Are you there? Please tell me you're there.” you said trying not to break down in front of your friends.

“Y/N oh my god, are you guys ok, I'm sorry we couldn't stay back.” she said. You knew that they couldn't stay back because instead of three being arrested it would be eight.

“Oh god Madi, I don't know how long I could be in here with them.” you told her suggesting the fact about how they were looking so hot.

“Why? Are they being gross? Have they posted bail for you guys.” you knew you couldn't tell her with the boys around so you suggested to them that they go ask the officer how much your guys bail was set at. When Drew stayed behind you spoke up.

“Can you both go, I have to tell Madison something.” you looked at him pleadingly. He shook his head and jogged up to catch Rudy.

“Gosh Madison I don't know, it's just something about them in handcuffs and smoking that's so hot.” you exasperated to the brown haired girl.

“Damn seems like someone has a crush on two guys and has a kink, I thought you hated smoking” said Madison laughing of her best friend in a joking way.

“Don't say it so loud. They're attractive guys but just my best friends that's it. Now shh they're coming back. “ Y/N said as she turned around and saw both boys heading her way.

“He said the bail is set at $500.” Rudy said.

“Did you hear that Madison?” Y/N told her friend on the other line.

“Yeah I just told the others. Hang in there, We will try to get you guys out soon.” She said as there was shuffling on the other end then and the line ended.

“Ok they said that they'll try to get the money as soon as possible, I guess we just have to wait.” You sulked back to the jail cell sleepily. You closed your eyes and laid your head on Drew's shoulder. About what seemed like a few hours later the jiggling of keys startled you awake.

“Someone here to bail you out, come on get up.” the officer said. You and your friends headed out of the cell sleepily. As you headed out of the police station you noticed as the sun was rising. You saw your friends leaning against Chase’s car. You all pulled each other into a hug.

“What a night we had.” Austin said.

“You're not the one who got arrested” you said looking at him with a serious face.

“Yeah man it was your idea and you didn't even have to be in a cell for god knows how many hours.” Rudy said.

“Well it's now 7 in the morning so you guys were in there for about five hours, sorry it took us so long to get the money.” Madelyn said.

“It's all good, what matters now is that we are out and that we should get some food cause I am starving.” Drew sighed.

“I agree with that statement, let's go get some food.” you said. You had an eventful night that you never expected would happen but now you were glad it was winding down with your friends and food.

taglist: @heartbreak-hemmings (thank you for helping me with the title), @thelocalpogue, @outrbank, @jayjaymaebank, @beautyandthebleh, @ceruleanjj, @pogue-style, @shawnssongs, @flowersinvegas, @baby-bearie, @myrandom-fandomlife, @calumbroutledge, @bellaguarneri.

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l0lsat-wod · 3 years

Text

~Random Domestic Head Canon Series~

On the topic of fear...

Hawks x fem OC

Warning! Slightly steamy toward the end - read at your own discretion!

Misaki had never been a fan of horror movies. Particularly the ones that were designed to terrify people about perfectly normal occurrences—like the power going out during a typhoon. The tropical storm had hit land earlier that afternoon, prompting the government to issue a discretionary advisory to remain indoors until the worst of it had passed. And so, Misaki was contently snuggled into her bed with one of her favorite books, a pair of earbuds nestled into her ears and playing a soft symphony of orchestral music in an effort to drown out the sounds of the storm raging outside her apartment.

Under normal circumstances, she would not have thought twice about the lights flickering for a moment before snapping off. Being the overly prepared person that she was, there were several, strategically placed flashlights and candles all over her apartment; at least two weeks’ worth of emergency provisions were also stashed away in her pantry in the event that she became unable to leave. The building she lived in had fortified storm glass on all of the doors and windows that was certified to withstand winds up to 190 km/h. She had absolutely no reason to be worried about being alone in her home during a typhoon.

Under normal circumstances.

Goosebumps skittered over the skin of her arms and neck as she was suddenly awashed in pitch black. The sun had already gone down outside her window almost an hour ago, granting an ominous feel to the torrential rain that poured from the angry clouds overhead. She could hear it over the music playing in her ears, beating against her windows with a driving force that threatened to overcome the reinforced glass. Taking a deep, calming breath, she carefully set her book aside and removed her earbuds, placing them on the nightstand before reaching into the drawer to pull out the flashlight inside. She clicked the button on the barrel of the device to turn it on, sighing softly in relief as the bulb flickered to life and cast a beam of bright light across the floor of her bedroom. Her relief was abruptly replaced with a flash of panic as the light suddenly cut off and she was once again bathed in darkness.

Misaki had never been afraid of the dark. She didn’t believe in ghosts or any of the multitude of creatures that were made up to keep little children from venturing out of their beds in the middle of the night. It had always been a philosophy of hers to face things that seemed intimidating with a rational mindset. Prepare. Remain calm. Don’t overreact. As was her mantra in fearful situations.

Under normal circumstances.

But Misaki’s circumstances were somewhat abnormal at the moment. She had engaged in an activity recently which she’d never allowed herself to experience before—mostly because she found the practice of subjecting oneself to something that was made to induce irrational fear utterly ridiculous. However, she had grudgingly let Hawks talk her into watching what he called a “cult classic” horror film during their regular date night last week. The black and white zombie flick had been more campy than frightening, but Hawks had insisted that they watch it in the dark in order to set the proper mood. She hadn’t thought the experience had affected her much, until this moment.

A soft rattling sound from the main room made her jump. Her eyes, which still weren’t quite adjusted to the dark, shot over toward her bedroom door. A sudden wave of fear sent shivers racing up from the base of her spine to the roots of her hair. Reaching out for her phone on the nightstand, Misaki kept her eyes trained firmly in the direction of the living room. Visions of zombies clamoring at her front door filled her mind, feeding her irrational paranoia about the skittering, scraping sound that was probably just a piece of debris washed up onto her balcony by the storm. She felt her hand brush the edge of her phone on top of the nightstand and a new wave of horror assailed her when she heard it clatter onto the floor a moment later. The light from the screen flashed for a second before going dark.

Her heart plummeted into the pit of her stomach. Not only had she apparently forgotten to check the batteries in her stash of flashlights, but her ridiculous fearfulness had sent her only other source of light into the oblivion of darkness beneath her. She slid her eyes closed and took a moment to calm her nerves, determinedly beating back the thoughts of zombies and any other nonsensical fears her subconscious mind had seen fit to drum up to suit her current situation. Swallowing down her anxieties, she carefully swung her legs over the edge of the bed and settled her feet onto the floor, sighing dejectedly when she didn’t feel them brush against her phone. Making her way across the room by memory alone, Misaki slowly and carefully headed for the bedroom door.

Almost apprehensively, she stepped out into the living room of her apartment, scanning her cherry blossom colored eyes across the open space for any signs of abnormality. She still couldn’t make out much more than vague shapes in the darkness, but her eyes finally appeared to be adjusting. Her bare feet softly padded across the cool hardwood, carrying her over to the side table next to the couch where she had another flashlight stored—hopefully with a set of fully charged batteries inside. She sighed in relief, shoulders visibly slumping, when she clicked the button and soft light lit up the space—and remained lit.

Again, the scraping sound drew Misaki’s attention, but it wasn’t coming from the balcony—it was coming from the front door.

Panic gripped her. Who in the world would be trying to access her apartment during a typhoon? She hadn’t ordered anything to be delivered, and maintenance would have announced themselves before attempting to enter her home. Her subconscious brain took the opportunity while her conscious mind was spinning through all of the possible rational explanations to remind her of the zombies, and she immediately shook her head against the thought. The most likely scenario, she decided, was that someone was attempting to break in and rob her. Now that she could handle.

She kept her footsteps light as she tiptoed across the room to the front door, picking up the softball bat that she kept in the umbrella carousel next to the entryway closet as she moved. She lifted it up over her head in preparation, clicking off the flashlight as quietly as she could as the lock on her door clicked open and the handle began to turn. As soon as the door crept inward, she swung her bat down, aiming at the top of her intruders head. The trespasser swiftly sidestepped the swing, gripping her wrist and sweeping her back up against the wall behind her. The glow from the emergency floodlights in the hallway outside her apartment just barely illuminated the side of her intruder’s face, and she sucked in a sharp gasp of surprise.

“Keigo?”

He glanced up at the weapon she’d used to attack him with and asked in an incredulous tone of voice, “Is that a steel bat?”

“It’s composite,” Misaki grumbled.

Hawks sighed as he released her and stepped back. “Steel would be better if you’re planning to use it for self-defense, you know?”

She dropped the bat back down into the umbrella carousel and shrugged. “The steel ones were too heavy.” Turning toward him, she crossed her arms beneath her breasts and shot him an incredulous glare. “Mind telling me what you’re doing coming in through the front door unannounced?”

His hand rose to rub the back of his head in a sheepish gesture. “Sorry about that. I kinda dropped my key on the balcony and it got washed away by the rain… I tried calling once I got inside but I couldn’t get through.”

Misaki widened her eyes and blanched, suddenly remembering the scraping at the balcony door earlier, and her fallen smartphone laying on the floor of her bedroom. “So that was you…”

“Who did you think it was?” Hawks curiously asked, cocking his head to the side with an expression of concerned interest etched across his handsome face.

There was no way in hell she was telling him that she’d considered there might be zombies trying to break into her apartment.

Crossing her arms, she turned her head to the side and scoffed, glancing back at him mischievously from the corner of her eye. “Just some vagabond looking to escape the rain and raid my food stash.”

He raised an incredulous eyebrow. “On the twentieth floor?”

“Was I wrong?” She playfully shot back.

Hawks let out an uncomfortable chuckle while nervously scratching his cheek with his gloved finger.

The lights in her apartment abruptly flashed on, drowning out the shadows and illuminating the two of them—one clad in an oversized light gray sweater and sleep shorts, and the other in a sopping wet beige hero costume. Blinking at the sudden brightness that seared through her retinas, Misaki quickly noticed the growing puddle that Hawks was making on the hardwood floor of her rented entryway and gasped. She flung the front door closed and reached behind him for one of her fluffy scarves hanging from the coat rack on the wall, tossing it at his feet before pushing him into the open doorway leading into the kitchen to his right. The floor in there was tile at least.

“Hey—!” He protested at her forceful actions.

Her eyes flashed up at him in warning as her dangerously low toned voice growled, “If you ruin these floors, you’re paying to have them replaced.”

“Geh—!” Hawks flinched away from the death glare currently aimed his way before shrugging out of his coat and gloves and carefully laying them in the kitchen sink. His boots and pants were next until he was standing there in his damp, but no longer dripping undergarments. Holding up his hands in a peacemaking gesture, he cracked a nervous grin and asked, “Better?”

Raking her eyes down his scantly clad form, she took a long moment to enjoy the view before she heard him nervously clear his throat. She finished sopping up the puddle he’d made and stood, stepping toward him and tossing the wet scarf into the sink with his clothes. He held his ground, gazing down at her with heated interest as she invaded his personal space. She held his stare as she slowly and deliberately trailed her index finger down the middle of his pecs and between the chiseled line of his abdomen to curl into the waistband of his boxer shorts.

The telltale bobbing of his adam’s apple drew her gaze just before his lowered voice murmured, “Misa-chan?”

Sliding her gaze up to his, she smirked at the heady look in his golden stare and the faint flush coloring his cheeks. She could almost hear the thrumming of his heart in his chest, beating at a cadence to match her own as she felt her arousal spike in response. She was suddenly transported back in her memory to the night that they’d watched that ridiculous horror film, could feel the rush of adrenaline that had sent her pulse racing—and the excitement that had lead to a very passionate lovemaking session right there on the living room couch as the credits rolled.

Her smirk widened into a wicked grin; perhaps horror movies weren’t so nonsensical after all…

Part of a planned series of short, domestic drabbles featuring Misaki and Hawks. They will be based on how both of them react to certain emotions (mostly). This one is Misaki's fear drabble. Planning to write Hawks next - wish me luck! 😬

Might add some tags later... might not... who knows! 🤷

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nommy-thoughts · 4 years

Text

Danger Noodles Chapter 2: The Other Hikers

Wordcount: 6.7 K

Summary: Virgil and Logan go looking for the third member of their party and find a little more than they bargained for.

Chapter 2 of my collab with @that-prey-lounge!

[Danger Noodles Masterpost]

~~~~~

“Wait, where’s Patton?”

Logan pulled his eyes away from the bird he’d been trying to identify, the worry in Virgil’s voice enough to warrant his full attention. He glanced around. “He was stomping leaves right over there a minute ago,” Logan said, frowning. It was painfully clear that Patton wasn’t there now. Both friends looked around the clearing in concern. “Patton?” Logan called. There was no answer.

“Patton!” Virgil called, louder. He looked around, worried. “C’mon, Patton, the one thing everyone knows is don’t wander off alone in the forest! People who go off alone don’t always come home.”

“Pairs don’t tend to do well either,” Logan pointed out, frowning.

Virgil grimaced. “Right. Now we’re all in danger. Great.”

“Which is why we must find Patton immediately.” Logan hitched his bag up higher, and the two scoured the area. Patton’s disturbance in the leaves were evident, and after a minute, they thought they found a trail.

Thank goodness Patton enjoyed dragging his feet in the leaves.

The pair walked briskly, calling out Patton’s name every few feet. They were both set on edge by the silence that dragged on.

Eventually, they found something that made their blood run cold. A serpentine track wound across the path the two were following, and from the size of the marks, it had been made by something big.

“The ranger said that there are rumors of nagas in the woods, didn’t she?” Virgil swallowed.

Logan nodded gravely, and he pressed on, nearly jogging. “Patton!”

“Patton! Buddy!” Virgil had a louder voice, so he did most of the yelling for Patton. “Where are you?!”

Logan stopped Virgil with an outstretched arm over his chest. “Look.”

There were more tracks. Surrounding a glittering stone were a plethora of the naga’s menacing grooves in the leaves and loose dirt.

“No, no, no!” Virgil grabbed his drawstrings on his hoodie. “Patton! Patton! Pa—!”

Logan slapped a hand over his mouth, cutting him off. “Silence. We don’t know if the naga left yet.”

Virgil’s eyes widened to the size of silver dollars, and he went quiet. Logan very slowly removed his hand.

Nothing came lashing out of the woods at them, so Logan took a deep breath. Virgil slowly exhaled through his nose.

“Look for clues, quietly.” Logan instructed before examining the tracks.

One came in from the east, the other from the west. Coordinated attack. That significantly lowered the chance that any of them would make it out alive.

“Logan!” Virgil hissed.

Logan rushed over and saw Virgil clutching Patton’s glasses case in a trembling hand. Logan reached over and opened it. There sat Patton’s glasses.

“You don’t think… he got eaten, do you?” Virgil was shaking a little. “A-and that he’s been crushed to death and torn to shreds and—”

“No.” Logan stopped him there. “If he was eaten, he would have his glasses. He wouldn’t take them off and put them away if he was about to be swallowed.”

Virgil clutched the glasses close as he stood. “Then Patton might be alive!”

“We should go contact the ranger station. She can gather a search party, armed, and more numerous than us.” Logan was looking over the tracks with Virgil. He saw human footprints leading in, but only naga prints leading out.

“But they might have caught him by then, Logan! We have to go after him!”

“Be rational. What can we do against a pair of nagas who might have swallowed—”

Virgil’s glare sent chills down Logan’s spine.

“—that are at such large proportions,” he amended. “This isn’t like our pet at home. These things are vicious man eaters. They might kill us too, Virgil.”

“I don’t care!” Virgil stood tall, and Logan saw that reckless determination flare in his friend’s eyes. “I’m going to get Patton back, and you can help me or not!”

Virgil took off running in the direction the tracks led.

Logan took off after him, hoping with every fiber of his being that Patton was okay.

The tracks led up into the mountains, and eventually up into the mouth of a huge cave.

“The tracks go in here,” Virgil said unnecessarily, looking into the mouth of the cave. It was simply enormous, definitely large enough to house nagas of the size to leave the tracks.

“This is a bad idea,” Logan answered unhappily, but he still didn’t back down.

Virgil nodded, peering into the cave. Though it was large, it had a big overhang, so that the sunlight didn’t reach very far into it. After a few dozen yards, it was too dim to see clearly. Pulling his phone from his pocket, Logan turned the flashlight widget on, shining it into the cave. From this distance, it didn’t do much good against the shadows.

Virgil did the same with his own, taking the lead. He stayed by the left wall of the cave, mostly using his phone light to show the floor. Behind him, Logan followed, legs primed to run.

“Maybe you should wait outside,” Virgil whispered. Logan shook his head vigorously.

“No way,” he said. “I’m not gonna risk both my friends getting eaten without me.”

Virgil chuckled darkly, but he didn’t try to dissuade him again.

Together, they slowly edged into the cave. Suddenly, Virgil threw an arm out to stop Logan. “Do you hear that?” he whispered.

Logan listened, tilting his head slightly. There was the sound of wind, which was not exactly something one expected to hear inside of a cave. Then the wind paused for a moment, before starting again. Not wind. Breathing. Something very big breathing.

Logan slowly swept the flashlight beam across the floor to the source of the sound. Red scales gleamed back at them. Virgil stopped breathing in horror at the size of the serpent. The tracks they’d been following had given them a hint, sure, but it was something else to see it with his own eyes. It was thicker than both friends put together. Honestly, it was almost half as thick as Virgil was tall, and he suspected that this wasn’t even the thickest part of the tail.

But it wasn’t moving. Hand trembling, Logan swept the beam along its length. A few feet down, another tail twisted around the first, just as thick. Unlike the first, it was covered in drying mud, obscuring its color. And then Logan’s flashlight illuminated a human hand, draped limply over the tails.

Virgil gasped, bringing his own light up in an instant. The hand was attached to an arm, which was attached to a shoulder, and… and that was Patton. His face was turned the other way, but they didn’t need to see Patton’s face to know that was him.

“I’m glad you decided we follow the trail when you said we should.” Logan swallowed dryly. “He’s breathing,” he noted. Patton was, somehow, inexplicably, still alive, thank goodness. However, he was also currently cuddled up to two gigantic carnivorous beasts.

Why they hadn’t eaten him, Logan couldn’t fathom. Nagas’ diets consisted of whatever animals they could catch, regardless of whether they could fit it down their throats in one piece or not. Although micro nagas occasionally liked to play with their food and enjoyed the chase, they did not keep prey alive for long, and they certainly didn’t take it back to their nests for a nap. It was assumed that giant nagas were the same. Logan briefly considered the possibility that the nagas were too full, but a single glance at their tails disproved that theory. Logan knew what the tail of a recently fed snake looked like, and this wasn’t it. These nagas were hungry.

“Why isn’t he moving?” Virgil worried. “Why is he just lying there?”

“I don’t know,” Logan admitted.

Perhaps giant nagas’ venom paralyzed prey instead of killing it? Any researcher that witnessed a hunt ended up as their subject’s meal, so they had little to no information. Logan frowned. What would be the benefit of paralyzing their prey, and not eating it right away?

“Patton!” Virgil whisper-shouted.

Eyes widening in alarm, Logan grabbed Virgil’s arm. They both froze again, and Virgil winced. Luckily, the two gigantic nagas didn’t stir. But, unfortunately, neither did Patton.

“You don’t think he’s been bitten o-or crushed, do you?”

Logan stared up at Patton’s limp form for several seconds more. “It doesn’t look like he’s breathing painfully,” he said at last.

Virgil nodded tightly. “I - I’m going to try and get him down from there.” He set his phone down on the cave floor, taking a moment to position it so the beam continued to illuminate Patton.

“Please be cautious.” Logan bit his lip as Virgil approached the nest of coils. He allowed his light to stray from Patton, running up the tails. There were just visible black spot-like markings across the darker tail, and after a second, his beam found more pale flesh.

Much larger flesh.

He estimated that the hand laying on the torso was roughly five times larger than a human hand, with long, thick claws for fingernails, and several scars across the fingers and one that looked like a cat scratch on the back of the wrist.

Logan jumped slightly when Virgil hissed out a curse word, glancing back at his friend. He was standing with the tips of his sneakers mere inches from a thick, red coil and was awkwardly trying to pull Patton down without touching the scales.

Logan glanced back at the nagas. There was a large scar across the jaw of the mud caked one, several smaller scars scattered across its face, and an open red eye.

The still nest of coils exploded into movement before Logan could even gasp. Something heavy smacked into him, sending him stumbling. His phone flew from his grip. Virgil yelped as he was thrown beside Logan, and the two tried to struggle as they were wrapped up in thick, green coils.

Virgil managed to keep an arm free, pushing and struggling for all his worth. Logan tried to kick, but he was helplessly squeezed back-to-back with Virgil.

“Hey, Roman, get up.” Their captor nudged the red tail Patton still slept on. “Dinner just wandered in.”

The other naga shifted, much more slowly than the first had. “What do you mean, dinner— oh. More humans. Sweet.” He continued to move, and Patton slid down his tail out of the light from Virgil’s flashlight.

The pair gasped as the coils around them tightened even further. “Let’s do it quickly,” the naga holding them whispered, “before our snuggle buddy wakes up.”

“Patton!” Virgil screamed, thrashing now. “Patton! Please wake up!”

“Oh shit,” one of the nagas hissed.

“Guys? What’s goin’ on?” Patton said sleepily. Logan’s phone had been only illuminating the ceiling, but now it lifted and turned on them. Patton gasped from the darkness behind it. “Virgil! Logan!”

The red naga moved between Patton and the other two humans, blocking the light. “Why don’t you go back to bed, Patton. Remus and I are just having dinner.”

“What?! No!” Patton scrambled over the red tail and immediately started to tug on the coils constricting around his friends. “You can’t eat my friends!”

“Your friends,” a naga repeated flatly. Was it Virgil’s imagination, or had the coils stopped tightening? It was still very hard to breathe, though. Despite the panic that came from being currently held in the tail of a naga who intended to eat them, Virgil found himself falling into a breathing rhythm with Logan, each breathing in as the other breathed out and vice-versa.

“They’re my friends,” Patton repeated, continuing to pull on the scaled loops surrounding Logan and Virgil. “Please.”

“But—” The one holding them looked at the other, and the silence stretched out.

“If you eat them, then— then you’ll have to eat me, too!”

The nagas made eye contact with each other again, and then the tight coils slackened. Virgil gasped gratefully at the sweet, sweet air that filled his unrestricted lungs. A moment later, his breath was knocked out of him again by Patton crashing into him and holding him in a tight hug. Virgil grabbed him back. After a second, Patton pulled one arm free to make grabby hands at Logan, who joined the tight embrace.

“We’re so glad you’re okay.” Virgil buried his face in Patton’s shoulder before pulling back. “But, what are you doing here?” he hissed in a whisper. “With these things?”

“We were just taking a nap. They weren’t gonna hurt me.”

“How did you manage to convince them not to eat you?” Logan inquired.

Patton giggled. “They think I’m too cute to eat!”

“He is,” one of the nagas chimed in. “Have you seen his adorable little face?”

That jarringly brought the two humans right back to where they were: In a den of hungry nagas, after just denying said nagas dinner. Even if the nagas had decided that Patton wasn’t to be eaten, this was still a very dangerous situation.

Logan stood a little straighter. “We’ll be taking our leave now. Thank you for not eating Patton, or us.”

The dark green tail still loosely coiled on the floor around them twitched nearer, and Virgil gave it a nervous look. “Leaving?” the naga it belonged to protested. “Already?”

“Yes, we need to be getting out of these woods before nightfall, lest we run into more dangerous creatures, and your cave is far enough from the edge of the woods that we really ought to be going now to be safe,” Logan explained in a carefully calm voice.

“Oh honey, nothing out here is more dangerous than the two of us.” The green-tailed naga chuckled and glanced to the other, who gave them a sharp-toothed grin. “You’ll be perfectly safe in our little cave for the night.”

Virgil bit his tongue, trying to not offend the two very large snakes that had decided to spare their lives, and who could oh so easily change their minds.

“It’s such a long walk.” The red-tailed naga lowered himself to be closer to eye level, “The bears have been out in storm, trying to pack on the winter fat. You’d be safer going tomorrow morning.”

Virgil’s grip on Logan’s arm tightened. “We, uh, don’t want to, erm, intrude.”

Patton stepped away, looking up at the two nagas. “They’re just a little nervous about your size, don’t take it personally.”

“We’re used to much worse reactions, Patton, don’t worry,” the red-tailed naga said, patting Patton’s head gently with his huge hand. “We understand, but you all have nothing to fear.”

The green-tailed naga fully uncoiled himself. “I could go grab us something to eat if that’ll calm them down.”

Virgil’s eyes widened, and he glanced up at the naga, who laughed softly. “No humans, promise.” Virgil glared a bit, and the naga added, “Unless you’d like to join me to make sure?”

Virgil shook his head with a grimace, moving closer to Patton and Logan. He had no interest in seeing the hunt up close, especially so soon after so narrowly escaping being dinner himself.

The green-tailed naga stretched, and then shrugged. “Keep an eye on our little guests, Roman. I’ll be back with dinner soon.”

With that, the naga slithered out of the cave, humming softly to himself.

Logan and Virgil looked back towards the remaining naga and their hearts jumped into their throats. He had lazily coiled around Patton again, though he didn’t seem to be constricting him.

“Don’t do that!” Virgil blurted out before he could stop himself.

The naga blinked at him for a moment before giving a dramatic sigh. “Oh, fine,” he said, slithering off from around Patton. He instead made a loose nest of his coils a few feet off, lying on his stomach across it.

“Oh!” Patton said. “We haven’t had introductions. Roman, these are my roommates and really good friends, Logan and Virgil.” He pointed to each as he said their names, and they gave small waves. “Guys, this is Roman. The other naga is named Remus. They’re twins.”

“Twins?” Logan repeated curiously. “Did you share an egg?”

Roman laughed. “No, don’t be silly. We were in the same clutch.”

“I see,” Logan said. “How many eggs were in your clutch? Just the two of you?”

Roman shook his head, “Naw, there were others. Decoys, mostly. You might not believe this, but I used to be smaller than you are. Lotta things out there that would like to eat naga eggs.”

“Oh, Patton,” Virgil interrupted. “We found your glasses.” He pulled the case from his pocket and handed it to Patton, who gratefully opened it.

“Thanks!” Patton said cheerfully, putting them on. He looked around, grinning. “Now I can see again!”

“How did you even manage to befriend two giant nagas?” Virgil asked, still unable to fully believe it.

So, Patton told them. After he had finished his tale, the three humans continued to chat, the giant naga lazily watching them. After some time, Roman yawned loudly, shifting closer. He sprawled out comfortably on the stone floor a few feet away from their cluster.

“Are you truly no longer interested in eating us?” Logan inquired cautiously.

Roman shrugged his gigantic shoulders. “Nah. It would make Patton sad.”

Logan nodded agreeably. “I can certainly understand changing your habits so as to avoid making Patton sad.”

Roman flashed that sharp grin again.

Logan took a step closer, unable to deny his curiosity. “My, what big teeth you have,” he joked. Roman’s grin faltered. “Would you object to my getting a closer look?”

“Logan!” Virgil gasped.

“What?” Logan said, turning back to face Virgil. “This is a particularly unique opportunity! Do you understand how rare it is to be able to observe a live Serpenti Magnum in the wild without risk of being eaten?”

“Just because he promised not to eat us doesn’t mean it’s a good idea to tempt fate by getting all close up to the mouth of a giant naga!” Virgil hissed.

“I’m not tempting fate. Patton and yourself are here to ensure that nothing goes wrong, and if Roman cooperates, I should remain unharmed.”

“All you have is his word.”

Roman made an offended noise, but Logan beat him to speaking. “You had less when we ran up here to rescue Patton. Patton had even less when he was taken. Besides, I don’t just have his word, there are a few tricks up my metaphorical sleeves.”

Virgil couldn’t think of a comeback.

Logan pulled a notebook and a pen from his bag handing them to Virgil. “I’ll tell you my findings, you write them down. Patton, could you keep a light pointed in his mouth?”

Patton nodded dutifully as Logan approached the large naga.

Roman glanced down at Logan, rubbing the back of his neck. “Er, uh, you sure you want to look at my mouth? I don’t want you to cut yourself.”

Logan nodded firmly. “Your mouth is not the first I’ve examined, simply the largest. I know what I’m doing.”

Roman nodded uncertainly, but as Logan approached, he pushed himself up off the ground a little, propping himself up on his elbows and opening his mouth wide. Logan felt a twinge of primal fear at the sight of the gigantic gaping maw, but easily suppressed it in the name of science.

“Patton, come closer with the light,” he instructed, stepping right up next to Roman’s crossed arms to look into his mouth. “Virgil, it seems that without unhinging his jaw, the subject can comfortably open his mouth roughly a foot. I wish I had a measuring tape so I could be more accurate.”

After a few seconds of pen scratching on paper, Virgil made a noise of acknowledgment.

Logan began by examining the teeth, calling out size and his count of teeth. “Two incisors. Two sets of canines, that’s interesting. The second set is a little larger than the first. At least on the top; on the bottom, it's… Hang on.” Logan took a closer look. “Okay, he has two incisors on top, and four on bottom. The lower ones are narrow, while the upper are wide and flat, like a human's front two upper incisors. He does have two sets of canines, as I mentioned. On top, the second set is larger than the first, while the lower canines are all about the same size. Looks like… two premolars on each side, top and bottom, and one set of molars. The positions of the teeth are similar to that of those in a human’s mouth.” Logan hummed. “Interesting. This tooth makeup implies that a fair portion of their food is chewed, rather than all being swallowed whole.” He leaned over Roman’s front teeth, twisting to look up at the roof of his mouth. “I don’t see any snake-like fangs,” he noted. “Thus, I would assume that the subject is non-venomous. This correlates with the suggestion that they hunt by constriction, as we observed earlier.”“Nearly observed digestion firsthand too,” Virgil muttered to himself as he wrote it all down.“Ooh,” Logan said with interest, leaning even further into Roman’s open mouth. “Virgil, he has more teeth behind the ones I already mentioned! On the roof of his mouth, closer to the center. Two rows of… eight teeth each, running from the front of his mouth toward the back. They’re smaller than the other teeth, and are shaped more like snake teeth: all pointed. They’re angled toward his throat. I assume to prevent prey from escaping.” Logan finally pulled his head back, and he glanced up at Roman. “I assume you can unhinge your jaw to allow large prey easier access to the throat.”

Roman pulled back slightly from the scientist standing in front of his face and worked his jaw for a few moments before answering. “Yeah. If we didn’t, we’d have to tear up all our prey. Well, except when Remus would trap rats. But everything that’s big enough to be worth it.”

Logan paused. “Your brother eats rats?”

“Rats, mice, squirrels, whatever he can get his hands on.” He shrugged. “He’ll eat them by the handful. Loves them as snacks. Too much effort for me for the tiny things.”

“Virgil—”

“Don’t worry, I got it.” He shuddered as he wrote it down.

Logan shuffled his feet before looking up at Roman again. “Would you care to demonstrate for me?”

Roman nodded softly, and then, with a soft click, opened his mouth extremely wide. It was easy to see now how he could swallow whole something human-sized, or even bigger. They could have easily crawled down his throat. The three humans stared, varying displays of fear across their faces.

Logan recovered first. “Can you comfortably hold that position?”

Roman half shrugged, but didn’t move otherwise. Logan pulled Patton close, shining the flashlight over the entirety of the mouth. “I would estimate that the opening has roughly tripled in size,” Logan said, fascinated. “There’s about three feet between his upper and lower jaw. Possibly four.” He pulled back again, looking at the underside of Roman’s jaw. “And yes, his throat has slackened as well to accommodate the swallowing of larger prey. I would be curious to examine the structure of his larynx, but of course it would be rather difficult to do so properly and non-invasively on a live subject.”

Virgil refused to look up as he quickly took notes.

“Have I mentioned the tongue yet, Virgil?”

“Nnno.” He glanced over the page. “What’s it like?”

“Forked,” Logan reported, “and proportionally rather slimmer than a human’s, though not so slim as a snake’s. Presumably, that is so that it can perform both functions — guiding chewed food to the throat, and scenting the air. As well as speech.” Logan leaned over Roman’s jaw again, looking curiously at his tongue. “And just as with snakes and smaller nagas, it appears to not be rooted to the back of the lower jaw, instead coming out of a sheath at about the same position. I would assume it can retract fully, to assist in carrying scents inside.”

Roman flicked his tongue into his mouth, demonstrating that exact thing.

“Yes, it retracts. Excellent, thank you, Roman,” Logan said, pulling back out of Roman’s mouth. “Would you mind extending your tongue to its full length?”

Roman stuck his tongue out, and Logan stepped to the side to get out of the way.

“Much longer than a human tongue,” Logan confirmed, pulling his phone from his back pocket to take a few hurried pictures. “I’d say… approximately five or six feet long from the tip to where it enters the sheath. I wish I had a higher quality camera.”

Virgil glanced up and shuddered softly. Logan placed his phone back in his pocket as Roman retracted his tongue again.

“Hold on, Roman,” Patton warned before sticking his hand inside Roman’s mouth. “There’s something stuck in your teeth.”

Roman didn’t move as Patton leaned in closer and snagged a slimy red feather out from between his teeth.

“Guess you don’t mind eating birds.” Patton tossed the feather away.

Roman rehinged his jaw with a slightly louder click than when he’d unhinged it. “Well… they’re hard to catch, but it’s fun to toy with them.”

Logan hummed thoughtfully, retrieving his notebook from Virgil. “That’s all I wish to examine at the moment. Thank you for your cooperation, Roman.”

Logan got to making more notes in the notebook, trying to draw everything he’d seen.

“Is he always like this?” Roman asked.

Virgil chuckled, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, pretty much. I’m impressed by how patient you were. The last time Logan stuck his fingers in my mouth to look at my teeth, I bit him.”

“Hey, guys?” Patton called. “My phone battery’s starting to get kinda low, and it’s getting chilly. Can we make a campfire?”

“I’d imagine that’s up to Roman, since this is his home,” Logan said without looking up from his notebook. Patton turned his pleading gaze to the large naga.

“You… want to light a fire?” Roman repeated.

“Just a little one,” Patton said. “For warmth, and light. Don’t worry. We’ve done it before, we can make sure it doesn’t spread.”

Roman nodded slightly. “If you can get one going.” He nudged a bundle of wood over. Something he and his brother collected from prey. “Remus and I never had much luck with such things.”

“I have matches,” Virgil volunteered.

Roman tilted his head to the side, but he watched with rapt attention as Virgil got the wood into the right position and lit it.

“There we go, Patt.” Virgil wiped his hands. “Done.”

“Thank you, Virgil.” Patton smiled as he sat by it. Logan came closer, turned off his flashlight, and continued to draw, angling the book a little to get the best light. Virgil lay down, trying to get as comfortable as he could on the stone floor. Roman settled down again as well, keeping a wary eye on the leaping flames.

It was a while before they heard from Remus. “I’m back and I brought food!” He announced as he entered the cave, holding three dead deer in his arms.

Roman looked up from where he lay sprawled across the entire floor. “Took you long enough.”

“Rude,” Remus said, throwing a deer at him. It hit Roman square in the face, exactly where Remus had been aiming. “It’s a lot harder to hunt alone, you know, and I was hunting for both of us. Plus I got an extra one for the humans to eat.”

“Oh,” Patton said. All three humans looked at the carcass with wide eyes as Remus set it by them. “Do you have a knife?” Patton whispered to Virgil.

Virgil nodded, pulling a long knife from his boot sheath. He started to hand it over, handle first, but paused. “Do you know how to cut this up?”

“Do you?”

Virgil nodded again. “My family used to keep goats for meat,” he said. “Deer shouldn’t be too different.”

“How are we going to cook it?” Logan asked.

“I have a campfire grill in my bag, which we can use for smallish steaks,” Virgil said, starting to examine the deer. “And we can sharpen a big stick to make a spit.”

“You are way overpacked for a day trip.”

Virgil shrugged. “Better overprepared than underprepared,” he returned. “And in this case, it came in very handy.”

“Fair.”

“Patton, would you look for a long, straight stick?” Virgil asked. Patton nodded, starting to look through the wood pile. “A big one, it needs to be able to support a heavy piece of meat. Some forked sticks would be useful too.”

Virgil set up his phone to shine directly on the deer, while being high enough off the ground that any messiness from the butchering process wouldn’t get on it. “Be more convenient if we could hang this,” he murmured to himself, forgetting for the moment that they were sharing the cave with a pair of nagas, both of whom could easily lift the deer with one hand. He took his knife, slicing through the deer’s skin. Moving with practiced skill, he began to skin the deer, exposing the flesh.

A loud crunch had Logan glance up at the nagas. Remus had bitten a leg off his deer and swallowed it whole.

Part of him was terrified, really, to be in such close proximity to creatures big enough to easily swallow him whole. Another part of him, a louder part, was fascinated.

Logan started to sketch Roman with the deer in his hands, but his eyes strayed as Roman swallowed the thing whole. The soft pop of the jaw unlocking got his attention, but Logan dropped his pencil when he saw Roman just shove it all the way in.

He didn’t even struggle to swallow. Just a few soft bites was all it took for Roman to swallow an entire deer.

Logan watched in awe and in fear as the deer vanished down into Roman’s chest after briefly bulging out his neck. Unlike Logan expected from his observations of smaller nagas, the bulge slid past his human-like torso into the stomach located in his tail without pausing. Roman sighed happily, patting the bulge deep in his body. Remus bit another leg off his deer. Surely he could also swallow it whole just as easily, Logan thought to himself, writing in his notebook. Perhaps Remus simply preferred to draw his meal out as long as possible. Unless he had some reason not to unhinge his jaw? Perhaps an injury?

“Is this a good skewer stick?” Patton asked, wandering back over to Virgil. Virgil looked over. The stick in Patton’s hands would easily reach across the fire, and looked thick enough to support the weight of a fair sized bit of meat.

“Yeah. Good job, Patt. Find anything to prop it up on yet?”

“No, not yet. Maybe we can use some rocks? Hey, Roman?”

The giant red naga looked over. “Yeah, Patton?”

“Can you find us some big rocks to prop this on over the fire?” Patton asked, lifting the stick.

“What for?”

“We need to cook our meat before we eat it,” Patton explained. “We’re gonna skewer it on this so we can hold it over the fire and cook it.”

Roman nodded, looking around the cave. It was harder to see into the darker corners than usual, since his eyes had adjusted to the light of the fire, but after a few moments he slithered into the shadows, returning with a boulder in each hand. “Will these work?”

“Yeah!” Patton said cheerfully, directing him to place one on either side of the fire. He tested to make sure that they would hold the stick in the right place, then grinned up at Roman. “Thanks!”

“You’re welcome,” Roman said, smiling. He settled down on the floor to watch the humans work.

“Patton,” Virgil said.

“Hm?”

“Sharpen the stick, please, and debark it.”

“Okay,” Patton said. He took his pocket knife out and opened it to do just that.

Virgil paused in his butchering process. “Patt. Is that the biggest knife you have?”

Patton looked down at the inch-and-a-half long blade, then back at Virgil. “Yes?”

Virgil sighed. “You’ll never manage to debark that whole thing with that, let alone sharpen it. You can borrow mine.” He moved one hand toward his hip, then paused again. “My hands are gross. Come grab my knife from my pocket.”

Patton put his own small knife away, then awkwardly reached into Virgil’s pocket. It felt really weird to put his hand in someone else’s pocket, but he soon found the pocket knife and pulled it out.

“Be careful, it’s sharp,” Virgil cautioned. “And spring-loaded, so keep your fingers clear when you open it.”

Wide-eyed, Patton opened the knife. It snapped open, gleaming in the firelight.

“Just make sure you keep your fingers clear so you don’t cut your thumb off or anything,” Virgil cautioned as Patton picked up the end of the stick again. Patton nodded. Carefully, with respect for the sharpness of the blade, Patton began to carve. After it was clear he had a handle on what he was doing, Virgil returned his attention to the deer.

Virgil’s knife was really sharp. It cut smoothly through the bark, and Patton had soon stripped the stick. Then he started sharpening one end, carving off long strips of wood and gradually shaving the stick into a point like an oversized pencil.

There was another crunch from Remus, and Roman looked over at his brother. Remus had bitten off and swallowed all of his deer’s appendages and was now gnawing on the main body. Roman gave him a disgusted look, gesturing vaguely to the humans. Remus rolled his eyes and unhinged his jaw to swallow the remains with a huge gulp.

Logan made a note in his book while Remus started to clean himself, licking his fingers.

“Do I need to do both ends?” Patton asked as he finished up, smoothing down the pointy stick.

“No, one’s fine,” Virgil said. He got up and came over, looking at Patton’s handiwork. “Looks good. Let’s get the meat on it. I cut it up into a couple large sections, plus some smaller steaks we can cook on my camp grill, which won’t take as long.”

With Virgil directing and doing the parts involving touching the raw meat directly, they soon had a fair portion of the deer suspended above the flames. Then Patton got the campfire grill from Virgil’s bag, unfolding it. It was a simple grid of thick wires, with squared off pipes for legs. He settled it over a section of fire that was mostly coals, and Virgil laid three medium-small steaks on it. “Those probably won’t take more than twenty minutes to cook,” Virgil said, covering the remaining raw meat with the deer hide.

The twin nagas were watching with rapt attention, eyes a little wide. They were finally staying still enough that Logan was actually able to properly document the way the deer they’d eaten was causing their tails to bulge out slightly.

Virgil looked down at his hands. “Now I gotta get cleaned up,” he said.

Remus, who’d just finished licking his own hands clean, glanced over at Virgil. “I can help with that.” He slowly licked his lips.

Virgil blinked, and then quickly pulled away. “Like hell you are. You are not getting a taste of this.”

Patton giggled while he tended to the meat. Remus continued to make a few teasing comments about Virgil while he cleaned his hands and his knife with a pack of baby wipes from his bag.

“Sure you don’t want me to have just a nibble? I won’t bite, not hard.”

“Positive.” Virgil tossed the wipes into a trash bag before turning to the meat. He used a smaller stick to turn the steaks over, noting that they were cooking nicely.

A few minutes later, Virgil announced, “Food’s ready. Logan?”

“Coming,” Logan said, setting his notebook aside for the moment. Virgil grabbed a baby wipe to scrub his hands again, passing the packet to the others.

“Wash up.”

As they did so, Virgil opened his bag again, pulling out three shallow lightweight bowls.

“Is there anything you didn’t bring?” Patton teased.

“Silverware,” Virgil admitted. “We’ll have to share my knife.”

“That’s fine,” Logan assured him.

Virgil wiped off the pocket knife one more time just to be sure. (He wasn’t going to use his boot knife for this, not until he’d gotten a chance to wash it more thoroughly, with soap and hot water. He’d figured it was clean enough to back in its sheath, though. Wasn’t like he couldn’t wash that too when they got home.) Then he took the meat from the grill, grabbing each piece to quickly transfer it to a bowl. He handed a bowl to each of the others.

Using Virgil’s pocket knife to cut their steaks into more manageable pieces, the three of them ate.

The two nagas watched curiously. “Why did you put it over the fire?” Remus asked.

“To cook it,” Logan explained. “We can’t eat raw meat like you can.”

Remus sniffed the air. “It smells different,” he commented.

“Tastes different too!” Patton said. “Wanna try a bite?”

The nagas perked up. “Yeah!” Roman said.

Patton got up. Using Virgil’s pocket knife, he carved off two large sections of cooking meat from over the fire, handing them up to the nagas. “Eat them slowly,” he said. “And be careful, they’re hot.”

Remus popped his piece into his mouth immediately, while Roman looked at his for a few moments first. Both nagas’ eyes widened at the flavor. “I like it!” Remus said around his piece of meat. Roman nodded agreement. “Roman, we gotta have ‘cook’ meat more often!”

“Did you see how much effort it took them to make it?” Roman scoffed. “Do you want to build a fire and take your prey to bits and carve a pointy stick every time you eat?” Remus pouted a little, and Roman chuckled. “Maybe we can try it sometimes. It is pretty tasty.”

The three humans each finished off their steaks, as well as getting seconds from the deer roasting over the fire, but even between the three of them, they couldn’t finish off the entire animal. Roman suggested they save it for the morning.

With full bellies and the late hour, the humans were starting to get quite tired. Logan had finally stowed his journal back in his bag, eyes too tired to stay open.

Virgil made sure the fire was out completely before looking around for a soft rock. None of them had brought a sleeping bag, since they’d originally planned to be home well before night fell.

Without asking, Roman picked Patton up again, bringing him over to the brothers’ nest.

“Hey,” Patton sleepily protested, wiggling. “Leggo.”

Roman curled up snugly in the indent, and Remus dragged himself in as well. As before, the twins coiled around each other. Roman settled Patton among their coils, but neither twin grabbed at him, so he didn’t mind.

“What about Logan? And Virgil.” He yawned. “They don’t have nowhere to sleep.”

Roman picked Logan up by the scruff and settled him against Patton. Remus managed to drag Virgil over and put him in the pile as well.

“Are you sure this is safe?” Logan asked, though he was tired enough that he didn’t try to move.

“Yeah, we won’t crush you, don’t worry,” Roman said with a yawn.

Remus didn’t do much more than grunt before he snuggled against one of the humans, loving that body heat.

Logan sighed slightly. “Virgil, do you still have Patton’s glasses case?”

“Yeah.” Virgil wriggled for a moment, pulling it from his pocket. Both bespectacled humans put their glasses inside, and he tucked it away again.

~~~~~

Chapter 3: The Part With the Vore (vore timeline)

Chapter 3: The Part With No Vore (non-vore timeline)

#mine #nommy thoughts #that prey lounge #collab #danger noodles #writing #my writing #tangentially nommy related #I maybe should have been posting this on my other blog but whatever #too late now #sanders sides

152 notes · View notes

kookscrescent · 5 years

Text

When Lightning Strikes (m) │ jjk

➤ pairing│Jungkook x female reader ➤ summary│You are home alone as a storm is going on outside, and a wet Jungkook comes home. ➤ rating│NC-17, mature, 18+ ➤ genre│smut, boyfriend au ➤ warnings│unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), strong language, couch sex, cremepie ➤ word count│2.1k│semi edited ➤ release date│July 30th 2019 ➤ disclaimer│This is all fiction! Nothing mentioned/written are facts and/or real! So please just keep that in mind when reading and enjoy! Thank you ♡

⇥ Masterlist

A bright white light fills up the dark living room as the lightning strikes through the night sky, closely followed by a rippling boom, that feels like it’s shaking the walls.

Outside the city is completely dark, the power of most of it having gone out a few minutes ago, and the only source of light you have is the handful of candles you managed to find, and the occasional lightning that lighting up the room for a short period of time.

You curl yourself further into the thick blanket as yet another lighting strikes and thunder booms. This is crazy! You are normally not the type of person to get startled by little thunder and lighting, but this storm is crazy! It’s been going on for the past few hours, the heavy rain is hitting against the tall windows, splashing against the streets below and the few cars, that despite the horrible weather, still have ventured out in the city.

If wouldn’t be as bad if you hadn’t been home alone and had power, but you are, and you have no idea when Jungkook is coming back from practice, and the fact that your phone died an hour ago isn’t really helping either. The last text you received from him was just moments before it died, saying that practice was being cancelled, but he didn’t know when he would be home due to the weather.

And you understood that! You would rather have him stay at the practice studio, than have him driving home in this horrendous weather and risking him getting hurt somehow. And it’s not like you can just charge you phone with the power being out. So, you tried calming yourself down and making the best of the situation, by sitting down with a blanket and a glass of wine, in the way to expensive - but also very comfortable - couch Jungkook bought a few months back, and watch the storm outside.

Sipping the glass of wine, you glanced down at the watch on your wrist, the small pointers telling you that another hour had passed by and it was almost midnight. Oh, how badly you wished your phone worked right now so you could contact Jungkook!

The storm outside had quiet down a little bit by now, the lightning coming and going with far bigger gaps than before, but the rain was still pouring down, the sound of it echoing throughout the quiet apartment.

You were in your own little world, when the front door opened and wet footsteps could be heard in the hallway. You nearly leaped out of your seat as you saw Jungkook rounding the corner of the living room, completely drenched from the rain. His hair clinging to his face, small droplets trickling down his cheeks, his clothes and jacket sticking to his body as he shivered slightly.

“Hey!” He said, his voice shaking as he kicked off his wet boots and went to you, clearly not caring that he was getting the entire floor wet.

You didn’t waste a second before your arms went around his neck, hugging him to your body. You didn’t care that he was wet, and you would be too, you hadn’t realized just how worried and lonely you had felt until you saw him just now.

“Hey,” you mumbled in the crook of his neck, feeling him shiver as your warm breath hit his cold skin. “I missed you!”

He lets out a short laugh as he pulls away a little to look at your face. “I missed you too babe.” He says kissing the tip of your nose. “Were you scared?” he teases.

“A little,” you admit. “But I was also worried about you!” You smack his arm when he keeps laughing at you. “It’s not funny Jungkook! My phone died and I couldn’t charge it to get in contact with you, and only god knew when you would be able to get home in this weather!”

He brings your body back against his, “God I love you!” he says. “Thank you for worrying about me.”

“I love you too,” you mumble, your hands fisting the back of his wet jacket.

You suddenly realize something, your brows furrow as a confused look crosses your face. Jungkook cant see you but he feels you tense up under his hold.

“What is it?” he asks.

“How did you get up here?” you ask him. “The power is out so the elevators don’t work.”

“I took the stairs. Lit the way with the flashlight on my phone.”

“But we’re on the top floor.”

“So?” he shrugs.

“That’s a hell of a lot of stairs!”

“It wasn’t that bad,” he tells you. “Besides I was way too cold to think about anything else, let alone how many stairs I had to climb.”

As a comfortable silence falls around you, another loud boom strikes through the sky, making you jump in his arms. He laughs a little at your uneasiness, knowing your typically not afraid of this type of weather, but he still hugs you tighter trying to give you some sort of comfort.

“You should really get out of these wet clothes before you get sick!” You tell him. He’s got some important months coming up and he can’t afford being sick. And he’s also dripping on the carpet, creating small pools of water, which is driving you nuts, but you keep your mouth shut about that part.

“You’re right.” He replies letting you go and surprisingly you yourself didn't get that wet from hugging him. Your shirt clings a little to your body, but nothing worth changing for.

On his way to the bathroom, Jungkook peels off his jacket and shirt and you get a mouthwatering view of his back muscles. Small drops of water running down his back from his still wet hair. You follow close behind him, not wanting to miss a single piece of clothing leaving his body.

Once he reaches the dark bathroom, only his black boxers remain on his toned body. You stop in the doorway, leaning against the frame as you look at him. It’s almost pitch-black, but the what little light that comes from the moonlight and through the window, hits his body perfectly.

Jungkook can feel your eyes on him, a smirk adoring his lips. He loves the way he can drive you crazy like this, he loves that it isn’t only him that feels like this because you drive him crazy every single time he looks at you.

“Wanna take a shower?” he asks you with a wiggle of his eyebrows but also completely serious, and for a moment you consider it, but you decide against it.

You shake your head, “We can hardly see anything babe, and knowing what we usually end up doing when we shower together, one of us will just end up getting injured.” You laugh as you picture it.

“You’re no fun.” He pouts.

“That’s not what you usually tell me.” You tease as you leave the room with a little more swing to your hips.

You can hear him groan behind you, and you can’t help but feel conflicted. You’ve missed him all day, and you’ve been by yourself throughout most of it and god do you want him as bad as he wants you, but shower sex is just not an option right now in these conditions.

Any other time? Hell yes!!

Jungkook joins you back in the living room. He’s put on a pair of loose joggers but haven’t bothered putting on a shirt. He sits down beside you on the couch, completely still for a moment, before he grabs both of your ankles and pulls you down in a laying position. You shriek at the sudden change, and he hover above you placing kisses across your collarbones and up to your ear, where he lightly nipples your lobe.

A sigh of satisfaction leaves your mouth and your hands lace themselves behind his neck, softly playing with the hairs there.

“What are you doing?” You ask him breathless.

“You said no to shower sex.” Jungkook hums against you, tingles shooting down your back and you chuckle at his respond. He feathers kisses over your jaw until he reaches your lips, hungrily taking possession of them, your tongues brushing against each other.

Jungkook spreads your bare legs further apart to make room for himself between them. You can already feel how hard he is against you and you moan at the thought of him inside you.

You sit yourself up enough to be able to take off your shirt and still keep your lips together, only breaking apart to get it over your head. You lay back down as Jungkook skillfully unhooks your bra, toying with the straps before sliding them down your arms and throwing it on the floor.

He moves his mouth down your chest till he reaches your nipple, sucking and kissing till you’re a moaning mess above him, your hands ranking up and down his back. You’re almost positive he’s going to have a few red marks in the morning.

He runs his index finger under the waistband of your shorts, before he grabs both sides and slides them down your legs along with your underwear. He sits back, a groan coming from deep in his throat sounds, as he admires your naked form before him.

Jungkook makes a move to go down on you, but you stop him before he can get started. “I want your cock. I can’t wait.” You sound desperate, and you are. Just the feel of how hard he already is, is enough to set your insides on fire with lust and desperation for him.

You reach for his joggers, pulling them down as far as you can in your position on the couch. You whine loudly when you realize that he’s discarded his boxers in the bathroom, and the sight of his already erect member meets your lustful eyes. Jungkook wastes no time in removing the joggers the rest of the way and throws them to the floor, as he once again settles between your open legs.

Licking your lips, you get ready for what is about to come, as he grabs a hold of himself and runs the tip of his cock through your soaked folds.

“Fuck, you’re so wet already!” Jungkook groans, the head of his cock continuously nudging your clit as he guides it back and forth.

“Stop teas-“ the words get stuck in your throat, turning into a pleasurable moan as Jungkook slowly sinks into you and starts thrusting in a steady pace, that has you grabbing the pillows.

Every delicious inch of him moving in and out of you brought you closer and closer to your impending orgasm. You feel tightening around him, making him falter a little in his pace as he has to focus on not cumming to early.

A low laugh escapes him as he tried to focus, slowing down a tad. “You have to not do that baby! You know I love your tight pussy, but I will cum I seconds if you keep doing that.” He warns you.

“Sorry,” you smile, and he begins sliding in and out of you again, this time with more force. His strong hands have a tight hold around your thighs, his fingers digging in to your skin, but you couldn’t care less about the bruises he’s sure to leave behind, you are way to focused on the feeling of him inside you.

Outside the sky is still being lit up with the occasional lightning, and every time it strikes it casts a beautiful white glow through the window, illuminating yours and Jungkook’s bodies in the dark living room.

Jungkook is spurred on by the string of moans leaving your lips, the way your grabbing the pillows for dear life and the way you throw your head back as he hits you just right – brushing your g spot over and over again.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!” You chant as he keeps going and you feel your orgasm bubbling.

“You’re so fucking tight!” Jungkook bites out, his thrusts becoming deadly fast, as he too feels his orgasm ready to burst.

The animalistic growl that leaves his chest and rushes past his lips as he cums, is enough to set you off, and as the lightning strikes in the sky, lighting up the room, your orgasm hits your body with full force. Throwing your head back you, you let the feeling of your orgasm and Jungkook cumming inside you, take over your body.

You both out of breath by the time you have ridden out your orgasms, and Jungkook collapses over you, hiding his face in the crook of your neck as he sucks on the skin there.

“It might not have been shower sex, but I still got you wet.” Jungkook laughs against your neck, and even though your smack him on the back, you can’t help but laugh along with him.

If you liked this, don’t forget to like or reblog ❀ It really means the world, so thank you! ❀

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modern-oedipus · 4 years

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Also, also! Now that I downloaded my app back— HERE IS A WELL-DESERVED SHOUT OUT I HAVE BEEN MEANING TO GIVE FOREVER!

@iamatrashfan

HELLO!! I am Nila, I KNOW WE NEVER TALKED BEFORE BUT LISTEN. Your art is a blessing. Your art has given so much life to me ever since I’ve gotten myself into Banana Fish earlier this August and I just can’t stop looking at it. It’s so beautiful and it makes me feel happy to be alive on 2020 despite everything. I am not an artist, so I can’t really give technical compliments about how you draw. But... But I can just tell that your art is making me feel something in my heart that I personally want people to feel when they see an artwork. I am running on 2 hours of sleep so I may not make total sense but I couldn’t procrastinate this shout-out any longer I JUST HAVE TO let you know. It’s like... It’s so graceful. It’s so beautiful. Not only in the terms of the gorgeous drawings by themselves but also the way you express the atmosphere of the moment integrated to your drawings. I just... I JUST LOVE IT SO MUCH SO I HAD TO DOWNLOAD MY TUMBLR BACK AND SAY THIS BECAUSE?? Like I don’t even know you but YOU ARE BRIGHTENING MY DAY AND I AM SO GRATEFUL THAT YOU HAVE CHOSEN TO PURSUE YOUR PATH AND DECIDED TO MAKE SUCH ARTWORK, because I can imagine that you must have been challenged like each one of us when it comes to creating content. I am so, so, so grateful that you kept on going and blessed me with your content. I literally have one of your fanarts as my phone’s wallpaper because not only is it motivating and beautiful to look at, but it makes me feel alive. There is just something— I can’t quite name it but something that makes your art feels so... so alive, like. If I were to compare it to a light source, your art would be a real flame instead of an artificial flashlight. Because you can get light from BOTH sources but only the flame will actually provide the warmth as well, like— warmth being the... f e e l i n g s and vibe I get from the way you convey your message in your artwork.

I just. Love your art. So. Sooo much.

To be honest, I haven’t been on social media a lot so I have yet to explore, but since I do have a blog in the end, I’ll just reblog and promote it because GOD it is really so beautiful that it just makes me remember that there are things worth living in the world. (I mean... obviously I don’t live for fanarts but like, you see? It’s like when you see fallen orange leaves on ground and step on them to enjoy the little sounds of cracking. YOU didn’t cause the fallen leaves, but now that they are here they just increase your quality of life and add a lot of happiness just by existing? That. That’s your heart.)

AAAALLLSSSSOOO MY APOLOGIES THAT YOU ARE TAGGED ON A POST BY A RANDOM STRANGER so I can take this post down if you wish but like. YOUR ART. I LOVE. YOUR. ART. I HAD TO SAY THIS. I HAD TO DOWNLOAD A F*CKING APP BACK TO SAY THIS. BUT I HAVE NO REGRETS I LOVE YOUR ART.

Thank you for actually going out of your way to draw and not just leave ideas ghost in your head.

Thank you for consciously choosing to share them with us.

Thank you for making me smile for three months straight every time your artwork was on my recommended, even though you didn’t intend to— even though you were unaware of it.

Thank you for being you.

Happy weekend!

#banana fish #art #shoutouts #nila stuff

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paytonfischer · 4 years

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BLACK OUT EVENT LOCATION: THE MEN’S RESTROOM

Featured: @ckrongold, Payton, @mrjames-saint & @themiguelfuentes

Mentioned: @jennifcrkrongold , @akrongold , Marissa Diaz & @joshuakrongold

PAYTON: With the limited light source, Payton was unsure if the others had noticed them yet. But at the suggestion of a gun, he nodded his hand, holding it out towards Christopher. "Give it here." And as he spoke, he saw the approach of another, their features caught in the shadows. "Get the fuck back." Side stepping in front of Christopher, he gritted his teeth ready for just about everything. "Maybe it's a good time to get off the phone now, bro." Glancing over his shoulder towards him, he lifted a brow. "I'm sure your Aunt would understand."

CHRISTOPHER: Pausing for a beat, he thought about it. Out of anyone, Payton was best and most equipped to be holding the firearm, even if it meant leaving his own self defenseless. Christopher eventually pulled out the gun he had toted all night long, placing it in Payton's hand. At that point, he cared for discretion no longer; it was best if the Devils knew that they weren't blind and unprepared. Noting the sudden charged energy, Chris quickly clicked the call off, standing behind Payton, looking over his shoulder with tense features. "Don't you lot even try." he snarled, directing his focus onto the two other men in the unfortunate room with them.

JAMES: James stood next to Miguel, while he was concerned about the bleeding, he was much more worried about the gun in Paytons hands. Funny how earlier the three had be joking at the bar and now they were here. His gaze flicked to Miguel, knowing his was armed before his eyes landed on Christopher. He heard words spoken on the phone, 'he can have her'. In an instant he was pushing forward. "Tough words from the man hiding behind someone else." He said, his tone mocking him. "You must be scared then, pussy."

MIGUEL: He could feel the warm liquid trickling down his neck, threatening to soak his shirt. His weight was completely held up by the metal stall, fully aware he wouldn't be able to pull a trigger in that moment. Letting his gaze fall on James, he simply shook his head. Miguel couldn't prevent his head snapping in the direction of the mans words, the pain from his wound threatening to intensify. Watching the man move forward, Miguel made the effort to stand in front of James. His hand found the opposite wall, his balance completely off track. "Not here. Not now."

PAYTON: Naturally, it all somehow came down to a girl as Payton sighed and cocked the gun. This room was much too small for this much testosterone, and heated levels. “I said get back." The words were repeated, taking a step forward towards James. "Whoever she is, she ain't worth a bullet hole, buddy." Never taking his gaze off the two in front of him, he kept the weapon near his side. "Plus Chris is more a lover than a fighter, so let's quit with the nicknames." Was he trying to lighten the mood in a dire situation? Of course he was, but as his finger hovered over the trigger, he realized that something wasn't right. It seemed the gun was jammed, probably from Christopher's original fall, which meant they were down a weapon. However the other two didn't need to know that.

CHRISTOPHER: His ears rang at James' cocky tone. "Fuck you, Saint." The audacity of the other man was astounding, and did nothing but make Christopher want to punch him in the face. "After you took my sister as your date, you're lusting after Marissa?" Add this revelation to his already bad night considering Marissa' s betrayal, and the fact that the other Devil guy with Marissa moments before was there as well, the Krongold male was beyond ready to let his frustrations out. Every fibre of his being was itching to have a go. He was only being held at bay by Payton's physical blocking, and the fact that the room could give and kill them all. Hence, the curled up fist by his side, as he shot icy glares at the other two. "You Devils are going to regret this."

JAMES: James' lip curled into a snarl as he heard how the other used his name, but it was his use of Marissa's name that pushed him. "You don't get to say her fucking name, ever again." He shoved his phone into Miguel's hands, if he couldn't pull a trigger then he could hold the fucking flashlight. Chris' words sounded like the words of a child, someone who'd never had to fight his own battles before and James was ready to show him what regret really was. It took a few short steps to shove Payton and his jammed gun aside, hearing him crash into something without bothering to see where he fell. One hand grabbed the collar of Chris' shirt, his other pulled back before his fist connected with the side of the others face, his full strength behind it.

MIGUEL: Fumbling to take ahold of the phone, there was no stopping James' fury. Fully aware of what his fist were capable of, Miguel stood to the side. "What are you, a fucking child?" His form managed to adjust against the now crumbling tile, pointing the flashlight in the direction of the pair. As far as he knew, they weren't involved in making a building collapse. He knew the moment Chris mentioned Marissa, it was over. It was a line that Miguel knew not to cross with the man, even as a simple joke. He knew what James was capable of, especially when his buttons are pushed. Letting his tongue click against the roof of his mouth, he watched as James' grabbed ahold of Chris. "Bad fucking choice, little Prince."

PAYTON: This was some shit as he stumbled back, falling to his ass as he glared towards the others. James had been cocky, acting even while Payton had a gun in his hand, which meant he didn’t care. Which was a whole lot more dangerous than someone with something to lose in his book. “Shit,” Pressing his palms into the dirty ground, he heaved himself up, the gun still in his grasp. "--get off him.” If he couldn’t shoot it, he might as well as use it as a weapon. Stumbling forward, he used the wall as leverage. "Could we stop with the fuckin' nicknames?" God, his head hurt. Everything hurt but his gaze was set on Christopher, determined to help his friend in any possible.

CHRISTOPHER: Everything went to hell real fast. Yanked by James, Chris felt the force hit him, impairing him; his fight-or-flight instincts kicked in. With one hand grasping and clawing at James' curled fist by the fabric of his dress shirt, he immediately retaliated with a defensive punch to the other's face. He hated violence, but this was the only language their enemies spoke in. "Fuck you!" he bellowed, blood and spit flying as he delivered another blow, unwilling to be bested by this Devil.

PAYTON: Making his way towards the two males, he lifted the gun, swinging it towards the back of James head. Using the blunt end to knock the balance off of the Devil, his fist now twisting into Jame's shirt.

JAMES: The punches from Chris felt like nothing, James spent his time with real fighters not spoiled kids who thought they could step in like a big man. He could hear his blood roaring in his ear and while he saw Chris' lips moved there was no sound as he pulled his fist back, landing another blow, then another, and another. His fist was raised for another when he felt something hit his head, releasing his grip on Chris' shirt with a growl. He turned on the spot, his rage blinded him as he swung, his fist connecting with Paytons nose.

MIGUEL: The male watched as James' unleashed the anger, the anger he felt was evident from the blood forming on Christopher's face. Holding the phone up, he let the light flash overhead as James continued to lay blows. A slow nod came from Miguel as Chris attempted to withdraw from the man, unaware of the background James has. His gaze flickered as Payton moved towards James, the gun reaching to send one blow to the back of his head. Letting his free hand reach behind his back, his fingers wrapped around the handle of the pistol. A shaky hand raised the gun, the nose of the pistol pointed at Payton; but threatened to shift towards a tangled James and Chris. "Do we want to play this game?"

PAYTON: There was a crunch and immediate blood flow from his nose, followed by a few curse words. “Come on, fuck.” This time as he lunged forward, he brought the shard of glass with him. If the other guy wanted to shoot him, he was gonna do it, it wouldn't stop Payton from doing his job. But as he was ready to deliver it into his side, but before he could have the chance, the door busted open, revealing a swarm of cops and paramedics. However, Payton didn’t care, not when his hands were still on Christopher and so he swung his arm, pushing the shard into the other’s shoulder before shoving his full weight into him and knocking him down.

CHRISTOPHER: Chris could taste the blood on his lips, certain that his face was messed up, no thanks to James' doing. But the adrenaline coursing through his veins wouldn't let him back down just yet. It was, however, the pointed pistol at them that caused him to pause the fury that fueled him, giving him a split-second to decide. If he was gonna die in a men's restroom in the hands of a Devil, then Lord help him, he was gonna go down fighting. Just when Chris has accepted his fate, the door burst open, disrupting the flames of tension within the room. That is, as Payton drove the glass of shard right into James. On his feet with whatever energy he could muster, Chris forcibly pulled Payton back, untangling him from the other man. But the damage was done.

JAMES: The sight of Chris' blood made James smirk, he'd told Jen if it came down to a fight with her brother he could take him, and he was right. The sound of the door bursting made him turn, automatically lifting his hands away from the fight. Then the shard of glass stabbed into his shoulder. He let out a pained yell, falling to his knees as his hand gripped his arm just under where the glass now penetrated his shoulder. His gaze landed on Payton and Chris, his eyes dark. "This is far from over you Royal pieces of shit." He said, spitting at their feet.

MIGUEL: Miguel couldn't help but chuckle as James' fist connected with Payton's nose, causing a rush of blood to trail down his face. Even two versus one, James was more than capable of taking them on. The gun wavered between the two, watching as the fight continued to unfold. Suddenly, the door began to break open; a rush of officers pointing flashlights. Letting the phone drop, Miguel shifted the gun backwards; tucking it back into his waistband. His legs threatened to give out as Payton rushed forward; a shard of glass piercing into James' shoulder. Letting his attention turn to the pair of Royals, he couldn't help but spit in their direction. "We'll see you around, boys."

PAYTON: Glancing towards Christopher, he allowed himself to be pulled back as the officers rushed in. "Shit." He muttered out of breath, wiping the crimson stains on his palms against his pants. "Are you alright?" That was all that mattered as he panted, staring towards the other male, completely ignoring Miguel's comment.

CHRISTOPHER: Collapsing backwards, he let the exhaustion give way. Never mind his bloody, beat up face; Christopher surrendered from the ordeal, allowing the officers and the paramedics to take control of the scene. "I'm fine." he panted, continuously keeping his heated gaze locked onto the two Devils. Even as the two left, spitting at them like the barbarians they were, there remained the rage and wanting to throttle them by their necks. Once gone, only then did he realise the damage the two of them suffered. Looking at the state he and Payton were now in, Chris was left with a conclusion: "We're in trouble now, Payton."

--fin.

#interactions . { and he spoke as if every word was a prayer }#rivalsofnewyork: blackourevent

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kny-secret-santa2019 · 4 years

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Lowlight

From: @kimetsu-no-yaiba-imagines To: @breathof-fics

Hello!! It’s Kami!! I was the one writing your gift! The plot’s kind of odd, but I really liked it and went with it (props to my friend that actually thought of the idea). And I’m sorry if I didn’t characterise Yamato correctly ;w;. Anyways!! I really hope you enjoy your gift!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Prompt: Winter power outage; modern setting

Word count: 1574

A click and the room was plunged into darkness.

Shuffling and curses could be heard while Sanemi searched for his phone, almost knocking over multiple items off the coffee table.

„What just happened?“ Yamato asked, sitting up straight on the couch.

„A power outage,“ Sanemi replied, turning on his phone „the news said that there’s a possibility of them happening now that it’s started snowing.“

He stood up, turning on his phone’s flashlight.

Yamato’s gaze followed the man as he stood up, his heart still upset from the sudden scare.

„I’ll go try and find a proper flashlight or something, you stay here“ he said, making his way down the hall.

Once he disappeared, Yamato sat on the couch, his own phone being used as a flashlight. He looked around, and stood up, deciding to help find something to light up the room.

He shuffles around the room, still unfamiliar with his surroundings, searching any possible place he could for something, anything. He scavenged the living room and the kitchen, but there was nothing.

He hummed, thinking. He looked down the hall, before deciding it’s worth a shot to go a bit deeper into the house.

He walked down the hall. He noticed a few doors lining the walls, and he decided to enter the closest one on his right.

It was a bedroom. It was tidy, excluding some of the clothes thrown on a chair next to a work desk. There was a laptop resting on the desk, as well as some papers and pens strewn around.

Yamato entered, leaving the door ajar. He skimmed the room for any places he could find some kind of a light source. He saw a dresser and approached it. He opened one of the drawers, hearing a light clanking sound.

When he pointed his phone at it, he saw it filled with scented candles.

There were all kinds of candles, a variety of scents and colours, all arranged neatly.

He picked one to examine it. It was a dark green one, named „Evergreen“. He sniffed it. It was a fresh scent, like pine on a foggy morning. It reminded Yamato of his childhood home.

He continued to pick up and smell other ones as well, leaving the one before in the spot he picked it up from. He didn’t notice a set of footsteps approaching.

„Out of all the junk, I couldn’t find anything useful“ Sanemi grumbles. He passes by the room Yamato is in, before backing up after realising theres a light coming from inside. He slowly pushes the door open, the younger man not realising his presence. Sanemi looks at him for a few moments, anger bubbling in his chest.

„What the hell are you doing?“, he hisses, his fingers tightening around the doorknob.

Yamato’s head whips towards Sanemi and his eyes widening. He and Sanemi look at each other for a few moments before the shorter man looks back at the candle in his hand.

„I didn’t know you collected candles.“ Yamato says, picking up another candle and examining it.

Sanemi approaches him and reaches out to snatch it from his hand. But, when Yamato speaks, he stops in his tracks.

„I like candles, especially the ones scented like evergreen. It reminds me of home“. A fond smile makes its way onto his face.

He looks up at Sanemi. The light from him phone illuminates his face.

„Which is your favourite scent?“, he asks, the soft smile barely visible on the corner of his lips.

Sanemi stills, a small blush on his face. He stares at Yamato, keeping eye contact for a few moments, before looking away. He grits his teeth.

Yamato decides to glance back at the candles he’s holding in his hands. „There’s a lot of rose in here. Is that your favourite?“ he looks back at Sanemi from the corner of his eye, a small smile on his face.

Sanemi’s head whips back up and he clicks his tounge. „I can’t find a torch, so we’ll just use these until the power returns“, he declares, trying to change the topic. He takes multiple candles in his large hands, paying no mind to the other man. He marches to the living room. Yamato stands there, dumbfounded, for a few moments. When he finally realised what happened, he snatches a few more candles and follows after Sanemi.

He stumbles upon Sanemi placing the candles on the coffe table. He looks at Yamato from the corner of his eye.

„Come here,“ he gestures with his hand, and Yamato obliges.

„I need you to shine your flashlight here while I light the candles“. He crouches down, taking a lighter out of his pocket.

He flicks it and his face sparks in an orange light. Once, twice, three times. It finally catches flame the third time. Sanemi lights the first candle.

He continues lighting the candles one by one. Yamato stands around idly, reading the candle names as Sanemi takes them in his hands. It clicks to him suddenly. All of the candle scents fit with each other!

He thought Sanemi only took all of them randomly from how quicky he picked them up, but they were carefully chosen. It made Yamato smile slighty. It seems his gruff friend has been doing this for a while.

Once all the candles were distributed, the room was illuminated by a soft, warm glow.

Sanemi finally stands up, running his hands up and down his legs to try and get some circulation back in them. He huffs, his breath coming out in a puff of condensed water.

He clicks his tounge. „Now that that’s over with, it’s time to worry about not freezing to death“ he mumbles. He makes his way down the hall once more, telling Yamato to wait there.

Yamato sits on the couch, curling in on himself slightly to try and warm up. He hadn’t noticed it got so cold.

Sanemi returns holding a big, fluffy blanket. „There’s only one of these, so you can take it“ he says, throwing the blanket towards the couch, before plopping down himself.

Yamato looks at him, his brows furrowed. „I’m sure this is big enough for the two of us“. He drapes one half of the blanket over Sanemi.

The latter male pushes it off of himself. „I’ll be fine“ he grumbles, leaning his arm onto the armrest.

Yamato pouts. He takes the blanket once more and covers Sanemi in it up to his neck.

Sanemi tries to protest, but Yamato keeps the blanket on his shoulders. Yamato looks him in the eye, his own gaze stern, not accepting of protest. „I insist“, he says.

Sanemi looks away, mumbling to himself.

„Fine.“

Yamato sits back down, a small, satisfied smile on his face, and covers himself with his part of the blanket.

The two sit in silence for some time, Sanemi looking at his phone, trying to find info if the power outage will end soon, and Yamato staring at the candles.

„You never told me your favourite scent“ Yamato blurs out, still looking at the candles.

Sanemi looks at him from the corner of his eye, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance.

„What’s it matter?“ he asks.

Yamato only glances at him.

„When did you start your collection? Do you have more than what you have in that drawer? What do you use them for?“

Sanemi’s annoyance grows, and he growls „I said, what’s it ma-„

He’s cut off by Yamato’s face, centimeters away from his.

Yamato only stares at Sanemi, before finally speaking.

„No matter how much I try to get close to you, you always keep me at an arms length. Everyone at an arms length“ he says, his gaze determined and never wavering. But after a few moments, it softens.

Yamato rests his palm rests on Sanemi’s chest.

„I want to know more about you…“ he whispers, his eyes looking down at his own hand.

„Pumpkin…“ Sanemi says, his reply muffled by his own hand resting on his mouth.

„Huh?“ Yamato looks at the other man. He notices how he’s looking away, his face cherry red. He also notices it made a nice contrast to Sanemi’s pale skin.

„I said, my favourite scent is pumpkin“ he repeats, closing his eyes and trying to regain his composure. „Now will you, please, get off?“ he barks turning back to Yamato.

Yamato looks at him, bewildered.

A sly smile finds its way onto his face. He lays his head into Sanemi’s chest, wrapping his arms around his torso.

„No, actually, I don’t think I will.“ he nuzzles his face into Sanemi’s neck. „It’s warmer like this“.

„Get! Off!“ Sanemi throws his head back, trying to get as far away from the younger male resting on his chest, his face and ears somehow turning a shade darker than before.

It’s a futile battle, as Yamato had little to no intention of leaving the warm cocoon he built for himself.

When Sanemi had finally given up and calmed down, Yamato glances up at him.

Sanemi kept his head thown back against the armrest of the couch, his forearm covering his eyes, his lips in a straight line.

„You look cute when you blush“ Yamato teased, bringing up his finger to trace Sanemi’s adam’s apple. „I’ll do my best to make it happen more often“.

„Shut up…“ Sanemi sighs, defeated.

But, the red shade from his face crept over his neck.

#kny scenarios #kny imagines #sanemi shinaguzawa #shinaguzawa sanemi #kny oc #submission

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vidamagic · 4 years

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Staying Home Survival Guide Through The Eyes of A Flight Attendant

A couple years ago I found myself having to stay home due to an injury. I had spent over a decade in the air interacting with over 600 people a day, then one day, BOOM - isolation! The adjustment was HUGE. I quickly found myself in a dark hole. I didn't even understand how the lack of outside human interaction would cause my vision and outlook to darken. Unable to drive, unable to work, unable to even physically do many things that most of us take for granted, I needed to quickly figure out a way to keep my mental health, well, healthy. Through trial and error I did just that - not only survived but thrived. Here are some basic simple steps I took to make life roll on and forward in positive motion.

See the Quads

We all have 4 quadrants to our day:

Morning

Afternoon

Evening

Nightime

It is important to recognize those four and highlight them. Every day regardless if you are home or out and about, you still have those 4 quadrants. Write down on a chalk board, white board or piece of paper the four quadrants, or as I like to call them, The Quads. Make sure it is somewhere you can see it. It may help to make a pie chart, and divide it into 4 sections.

Now that we see these four quads, our day suddenly seems very manageable. We have just regained control by this simple step.

Make a List

(We call this our "Can Do" List)

*avoid "to do" list as that can trigger anxiety.

LIST EVERYTHING!

Example:

wake up

brush teeth

make breakfast

have coffee

shower

get dressed

call dad

put laundry in wash

read chapter 2 of book

make lunch (tuna melt? new recipe?)

walk around the block

watch remember the titans

put clothes in dryer

organize spice cabinet

go through closet

prepare dinner

dishes

mediate

make a vision board

check the mail

make a cup of tea

FaceTime a friend

stretch/exercise

practice duolingo

prepare for bed

relax and reflect

Ok, you get the idea. Writing down a list of all the things you may or may not do that day begins your day with purpose and clarity. As you move about your quads during the day be sure you scratch off the items you have done off of your list creating accomplishment.

Get dressed every day like you are meeting a friend for lunch. EVERYDAY.

It is very easy to stay in sweats, comfy cozies, or pj's while being stuck at home. While this is great to do on a weekend day while you are working outside of the house, or while you are sick, doing this daily without interacting with the outside world is a quick way to fall into a slump. Important! Dress everyday like you are leaving the house.

Think of your goals, hobbies or something new you always wanted to try.

It may not be possible during your home bound state to do a lot of things you would like, however there is nothing stoping you from planning out the future of when you return. Magic happens in our soul when we start to dream about the future. Is back packing through Europe on your bucket list? What kind of backpack would you take? What supplies would go in it? What shoes would you wear? What is the cost associated? What is the time frame you would need? What socks will keep your feet protected? Take the opportunity you have right now at home to really dive into the things you have said you always wanted to do or try.

Connection

Stay connected with the outside world. There are many ways to accomplish this: Email, text, phone, FaceTime, social media, or writing an ol' fashion letter. Relationships are our glue in life. Interesting enough, just making the initiation of contact fulfills our desire of that life glue. Reach out without the expectation of response. We do not want to create an unhealthy dependance on others responding to our every contact initiation. If we are dependent on the other end answering it could lead to disappointment and frustration.

Get Outside

Go outside regardless of the weather. Taking a walk or stroll, no matter the distance, is one of the best things you can do. Changing the air we breath and the environment we are in is essential. Everyday step outside and walk.

Celebrate

There is nearly a holiday everyday from National Doughnut Day (June 5th by the way) to Christmas, CELEBRATE them. Do you enjoy watching the Oscars? Have a party! Even if it is a party of one. Go into your closet, dress to the nines, decorate, poor something sparkly and watch the event. Celebrating things big or very small is a great reminder that life is worth celebrating.

Meditate

There are multiple benefits of meditation. I have found that even 10 minutes has a profound impact. Focus on your breath. Inhale … Exhale … In …. Out … Headspace.com is a great source if your new to meditation. Meditation can be done anytime, anywhere, and during any metal state. Bringing meditation to your day will keep you grounded during your current circumstance. Meditating is like someone is giving you a flashlight in a dark room. Yes, you can make it out of the dark room without it, but it may be difficult. When you have a flash light… ahhhh better, so much better. Meditating is just ahhhh better, so much better.

This is not an article full of suggestions of what to do when stuck at home, there are plenty of those. This is a survival guide. Staying at home for any reason can be mentally tough, so give your self a break! Just as with anything, sometimes you just need to give yourself a break, a cheat day. It is possible that you find yourself in bed all day binging a new show and That Is Okay. The important thing is that the following day you get up and enjoy the quads of the day.

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kiruuuuu · 5 years

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Thatcher/Lesion in which they go on vacation together and manage to confront a few things. Mostly each other. (Rating E, fluff, kinda explicit, emotional hurt/comfort, ~7.3k words) - dedicated to both @glazkov-smile and @magehir because the former put this ship into my head and the latter encouraged me 💕 I didn’t mean for it to become this long but here we are and oh look I’m stuck what a surprise

It’s telling that Thatcher doesn’t even remember what it’s like back home, finds no memories with which to compare his current situation for there is no space for anything other than the deep and profound calm filling him completely. He watches the tea leaves unfurl gently, soaking up the hot water while simultaneously dyeing it, breathes in the cool, clear morning air and listens. A soft breeze rustles leaves, birds sing – no cars audible or even anywhere in sight, only the pleasant rise and fall of the mountains and valleys surrounding him. Though his mind knows it not to be true, he’s always been here in his heart, far from people and stress and obligations, free from his duties, allowed to just be himself. He’s content.

Something shifts behind him, fabric drags over fabric and a blissful sigh lets him know that his companion is far from ready to begin this new day. Thatcher is almost tempted to let him sleep a bit longer, glance at the peaceful face now and then while he enjoys his tea and just wait until brown eyes blink at him sleepily. But they’re not on vacation to laze around, so instead he reaches out into the tiny tent behind him and scratches where he suspects Lesion’s feet to be inside his sleeping bag. An indignant yelp followed by flailing violent enough to threaten the tent’s stability lets him know he indeed hit exactly the right spot and so he leaves it at that, worried about the cup in his other hand, and goes back to admiring the beautiful scenery before him.

When Lesion emerges, he’s squinting at the brightness of the early summer sun and gratefully accepts the mug Thatcher hands him with a mumbled something. It takes several sips for him to perk up enough so Thatcher can consider initiating a conversation.

“Slept better this night?”, he wants to know curiously though the drawn-out yawn is almost answer enough.

“Not really. At least I’ve gotten used to it being this stupidly quiet”, Lesion replies with a self-deprecating smile. To Thatcher, sleeping while being surrounded by noise was something he had to train himself to do whereas Lesion is largely unfamiliar with total silence. “At this point I can only guess why I can’t sleep.”

“What’s your best guess then? Anything I can do to help?”

For some reason, this earns him a side glance and no more than a dismissive shrug. Maybe it’s nightmares and he’d rather not talk about them when it’s obvious how much Thatcher is enjoying this escape from everyday life. There are pillow creases on Lesion’s cheek and more down his arm, indents telling of his regularly interrupted and yet deep sleep. Together with his wild hair, the peculiarly patterned t-shirt and naked legs, he looks young and almost adorable, though Thatcher would rather saw off his own foot than admit this out loud.

“What’s for breakfast? I swear if it’s anything with fish again, I’m going to chuck it into the nearest gorge.”

This finally drags Lesion out of his morning funk and prompts a soft laugh in between gulps of green tea. “You’ve definitely come to the wrong place then, Norway is quite well-known for its excellent fish and not-so known for its deep gorges.”

“I came here to hike, camp and do both without too much human contact, not to turn into a seagull.”

“What does that make me then?”

“You don’t count as human contact”, Thatcher waves his question aside, well aware of how disparaging his comment could sound but confident Lesion will take it the right way. “You’ve seen me at various high and low points in my life and you’ve still stuck around.”

“I have, haven’t I”, Lesion murmurs more to himself than in response, smiling into his tea.

“Clearly because of my sunny personality.” When his friend chokes on the liquid, Thatcher doesn’t know whether to be offended or pleased.

They’ve been travelling for a week by now and are scheduled to return in a few days; a date towards which Thatcher looks with trepidation. He hasn’t felt this peaceful in years, not even during other vacations, and long accepted the low, insistent buzzing at the back of his skull as an inevitable side effect of his work – switching off is something at which he’s never been good and it’s always affected his relationships, even friendships. Maybe he’s getting old or careless, who knows, yet this time around he’s finally thoroughly enjoying himself. It took him three days to realise and funnily enough he’d literally stopped to smell some flowers at Lesion’s indication when it hit him: the need to justify this waste of time to himself was gone. His heartbeat didn’t spike when he thought about some of the things he’d have to do once they return. He didn’t urge them to move on if they lingered.

Lesion’s laid-back attitude seems to be contagious and though it spared Thatcher’s rigid sleep schedule, it allowed him to properly marvel at Norway’s breathtaking natural beauty and not despair over the lack of any reliable transportation, instead trusting Lesion that hitchhiking will get them to their small handful of destinations in their own time. They’ve picked up some Norwegian on the way, communicated with grand gestures when no common language was found and joked around with whoever was friendly enough to give them a ride. Thatcher even begrudgingly admits that his international phone plan comes in handy whenever his old and tattered map proves unreliable – he bought it for a planned holiday twenty years ago but it ended up never happening due to his partner at the time coming down with an acute case of lying, cheating and stealing.

Nostalgia is a powerful yet dangerous thing and so Thatcher mostly focuses on the present. Everything else would’ve been unfair to Lesion anyway.

Contrary to Thatcher’s underlying worries, the day plays out perfectly and couldn’t go any better than it does. They pack up after breakfast, careful not to leave anything behind, and hike for an hour to reconnect with the nearest street where they almost immediately get picked up and taken to a town close to the next sight they’re planning to explore. They stock up on supplies, causing a slight commotion in the store when Lesion repeatedly tries to smuggle herring salad into their basket with Thatcher objecting more and more emphatically. They really must look like tourists, Lesion especially with his cargo shorts and frankly embarrassing sun hat – and Thatcher thanks whichever deity is responsible for common sense for stopping his companion from bringing a selfie-stick.

The hike up the mountain isn’t as bad as some others they’ve mastered previously and doesn’t even begin to compare to some of their training exercises, so Thatcher takes a gleeful pride in passing by resting younger couples or families while hardly out of breath and matching Lesion’s unmerciful tempo effortlessly. The only time they stop is to pick some wild blueberries and argue about what to eat for dinner.

“Okay”, says Lesion once they’ve arrived at the entrance of the first cave, “why are we here again?”

Thatcher wants to both laugh and sigh simultaneously and ends up scoffing instead. “You really don’t remember? I told you this morning.”

“See, there’s your mistake – it was morning.”

“How do you normally go on vacations? Do you just wander around until a random flight accidentally lets you on and you’ve just always been lucky to bring the right clothes so far?”

A wide grin is his reply. “Tell me, Mike. What are we here to see?”

It probably should vex him that Lesion doesn’t seem to share his enthusiasm for scenic spots but as he always finds something meaningful to say about them and never complains, Thatcher has to admit he doesn’t mind doing most of the planning. And so he talks about the Trollkirka or troll church which isn’t a church at all but rather a marble cavern with a waterfall, and how they’re about to explore the three limestone grottos around it.

“Sounds better than your idea for improvised fishing the other day. Do we need flashlights?”

Thatcher pauses, recalls the descriptions he’s read for the caves and grimaces. “Are you telling me you haven’t developed the ability to see in the dark over the years?”

“I’ve got a phone. Let’s go.”

The lack of daylight turns out to be not the only obstacle they’re facing: there’s a shallow underground stream happily gurgling past their feet and covering the entire width of the floor. It adds a lot to the atmosphere, that much is true – for the short moment during which Lesion experimentally switches off his phone’s light, it really is utterly dark, yet the calming echo of the water turns what might’ve been menacing otherwise into something soothing instead.

Even so. Lesion’s casual shoes aren’t waterproof.

They’re both hunched over right now as the ceiling isn’t high enough to accommodate them and while Thatcher pays next to no attention to where he treads, Lesion carefully steps from stone to stone, choosing more elevated parts in order to save his socks from getting soaked. He looks almost like a very ungraceful and vaguely irritated bird and Thatcher only barely manages not to comment on his stilted walking.

“From what I’ve seen it’s worth the hassle at least”, he tries to cheer his companion up and earns a pained grin visible in the unsteady, cold light of his phone.

“I believe you, trust me, I’m not complaining – look, I like getting wet, just not like this.”

Thatcher snorts and is about to respond when Lesion hits his head on a particularly low part of the ceiling with a yelp, causing him to drop his device right into the clear water. Once again, the light source dies and leaves them in pitch black, only this time it’s accompanied by a lot of cursing from Lesion as well as the sound of frantic splashing while he searches for his phone by his feet.

“Fuck, okay, here it is, shit. Can you use yours so I can take a look at it?”

Even now, Lesion doesn’t sound annoyed, merely exasperated, and Thatcher decides to buy him a few drinks once they’re back in civilisation. A quick pat down his own trousers assures him that yes, while he does have his own smartphone in his front pocket, he’s going to have a hard time getting it out with the way he’s bending over, stretching the fabric and restricting access to his pockets. “I can try but it’s hard to get, I don’t want to do the same thing you just did.”

For a second, all Thatcher hears is the rippling water, his own fingernails scratching over his jeans in their attempt to dive into his pocket and blood rushing in his ears. He can sense Lesion even if he can’t see him.

Eventually, there’s a quiet: “Let me try.”

There are footsteps now and they sound like their owner couldn’t care less about whether or not his socks end up drenched. Thatcher stretches out an arm for guidance, lets his hand meet Lesion’s and wander up his extended limb before resting it on his side once he’s close enough. They stand there, holding on to each other in the dark, and for some reason Thatcher’s lips are burning, itchy all of a sudden, he’s painfully aware of warm fabric under his palm and that’s when fingertips brush over his thigh.

He holds his breath. It’s suddenly imperative that he does even if he’s uncertain why, and then deft hands run over the edges of his phone, ticklish and tingling and he tries so hard to see anything, maybe make out Lesion’s expression by sheer force of will but all he gets in return is fingernails digging into skin and the feel of regular in- and exhales against his hand which refuses to move anywhere else.

Neither of them speak. The air is lovely and cool compared to the increasing summer heat outside but right now it’s both the same to Thatcher. Lesion makes a small noise of effort and moves, prompting Thatcher to finally drop his arm and twist a bit to make it easier for him. When he feels the device being slid out, he slowly breathes out and hopes the sound of the stream drowns it out.

It’s like flicking a switch. As soon as Thatcher turns the torch on, both of them snap back to what feels like reality even if he’s not sure what to call the previous darkness in comparison. The phone is just as soaked as Lesion’s socks and so they jokingly lament the loss of a good friend before moving on.

When they reach the waterfall, illuminated by bright rays falling in through the open ceiling and caught by a basin of light marble, Thatcher has shaken off any residues of the event, his mind is clear again and gone is the pounding in his chest. And even now, Lesion – shoes squelching and phone longing for a bag of rice – isn’t complaining.

The marvellous sight before him is oddly moving and so Thatcher hears himself say: “I’m glad we came here.” But he doesn’t only mean the waterfall, doesn’t only mean the cave.

“Me too”, Lesion replies and it sounds as if he’s referring to the same thing Thatcher is.

They play Xiangqi and drink brennevin.

Lesion almost immediately dives head first into tipsy territory as he hates the taste of it so much he downs half his glass in one go and then giggles at length over how international their set-up is: he’s in Norway with a Brit, playing Chinese chess and drinking Icelandic aquavit which he finds hilarious for no reason. Thatcher watches him fondly and utterly destroys him at the game several times in a row, not even hiding the fact he enjoys his wins seeing as Lesion usually outplays him effortlessly. They’re using a small magnetic set Lesion gifted him after their first meeting, intent on playing against him one day. Thatcher learned the rules and practised with whoever proved good enough, then they started playing via messages, informing each other of their day so far as well as the move they chose to make – a fact which somehow amused Mute to no end when he heard of it.

Setting up camp has gotten easier and easier as the week progressed, now they’re a well-oiled machine, the brennevin at the end the only deviation from their usual routine tonight. Stretched out on their sleeping bags in front of the tent, they make up more and more ridiculous toasts in between moving their pieces on the board and watching as the sun slowly sets, painting the clouds in beautiful pink and purple. Alcohol loosens their tongues and makes them forget they’re so high up that they could have a snowball fight within walking distance of their small tent.

“You keep saying drinking makes me sentimental and I keep denying it, but you know what? I think you’re right”, Lesion declares out of the blue and rolls around a bit to stretch and yawn. The hem of his shirt rides up, briefly flashes unnatural colours and dark ink on his lower back.

Thatcher’s gaze lingers until he realises he can’t set up the board without looking, and so he diverts his attention again. “Why, what are you thinking of?”

“Just that I’m glad to be here. I like it.” A warm smile is directed at him which does more than all the aquavit he’s had so far. “Thanks for inviting me.”

“Thanks for coming along.” Both of them remember how easy it had been: Thatcher mentioning Norway, Lesion showing interest, Thatcher suggesting they go together, Lesion accepting. Less than a minute, really, and he almost expected nothing to come out of it with which he’d been fine as he thought the knowledge that Lesion would accompany him is enough. Now he knows he would’ve been wrong, all of this is so much better.

“You usually go on vacations alone, don’t you?”, Lesion wants to know, curious, and makes no move to start yet another game, so Thatcher doesn’t remind him for now.

“I do, yes. I’ve travelled with a few people in the past but it often didn’t go well.”

“How come?”

He shrugs, unconcerned, but his friend is interested now, has propped his head up and is watching him intently. The twilight blurs a few details, softens his image and sharpens it only when Thatcher doesn’t return his gaze directly. So he doesn’t. “Didn’t work out. Many reasons, really. Conflict of interests more often than not. Lost sight of a lot of them afterwards, to be honest.” At this point, he’s confusing their current topic with something entirely unrelated – Lesion did ask about his travels, not about his ex-partners, right? How can he even mix these up?

“You’re not talking to any of them anymore?”

Huh, maybe they are talking of his past relationships after all because that’s what it sounds like. His mouth has developed a mind of its own, readily answering where his brain goes wait a second. “Not really, no. With most of them, it’s over after a year. I’m terrible at keeping in touch with people.”

Lesion looks at him. His expression is unreadable but Thatcher feels like he’s missing something important, misinterpreting something, skidding on ice where he thought he’d be fine but how can he avoid obstacles when he keep failing to identify them?

“I keep wondering what they’re up to these days, some of them were lovely. Maybe I could’ve ended up with one of them if I’d put a little more effort in.” He’s babbling and paying very little attention to his own words which seems to uphold a balance – because it turns out Lesion is indeed taking note very attentively.

“Probably not”, he states calmly. “Not with your horrible commitment issues.”

At first, Thatcher thinks he misheard. And when it finally sinks in that no, not his slightly foggy brain came up with that remark but rather the person before him, the man who so casually opens another match of Xiangqi as if he didn’t just say … well, that – when he realises, Thatcher is furious. “What?”, he barks, incredulous and reeling.

Lesion pretends nothing is wrong and simply produces a small, questioning hm? while even going so far as to meet his eyes in pretend innocence.

“I don’t fucking have – are you serious?” Lesion nods silently as if Thatcher had just asked him whether he was hungry. “That’s bloody ridiculous and you know it is. I’ve been in the regiment for almost my entire life, Tze Long, don’t you think that counts for something? What, you think I didn’t have a choice? I chose to make it my life and if that isn’t commitment then I don’t know what is. Maybe I just have different priorities than most people, but the fact that I can fucking exist without needing another person to tie my shoes does not imply -”

The longer he rants, the more stoic Lesion’s expression becomes. With every sentence he spits at him, dismantles the offensive and unkind comment, Lesion distances himself, avoids eye contact, looks around, takes a sip of clear liquor, inspects the long-forgotten chess board between them. His behaviour only fuels Thatcher’s indignation and though he can’t shake the feeling of somehow being out of line, overreacting maybe, he’s genuinely hurt.

Even so, his heart races and his adrenalin is spiking – his fight or flight response is kicking in and he has to wade through the mud of subconscious urging to just get up and run to arrive at every next sentence he spews out. Eventually, he realises he’s been going off for entirely too long and snaps his mouth shut. He abruptly understands that he’s afraid, but of what?

Lesion stops fiddling with the zip on his sleeping bag and looks up. Strangely, there’s disappointment lining his features along with steely resolve. “Are you done?” When Thatcher confirms with a nod, he adds, softer: “Kiss me.”

Thatcher’s head is swimming. He feels unnaturally warm. “No”, he replies.

“Coward.” It’s said in the same gentle, unfitting tone. Almost as if he expected it. Neither of them are moving.

“I don’t want to kiss you”, Thatcher explains very rationally, as he thinks, “I don’t – why would I want to kiss you?”

“A coward and a liar.”

He carefully avoids thinking about it too much. They’re both drunk so it’s not even worth any deliberations, not worth his time, maybe it’s a joke or Lesion really is feeling unnaturally sentimental – whatever it is, he’d best stop their weird conversation right here. Lesion’s presence is suffocating so switching topics is not a viable option, however, and thus Thatcher physically distances himself from him, grabs the bottle, gets up, turns away. “I’m going for a walk”, he grits out and doesn’t look back as he leaves, swaying a little.

Hopefully the odd mood will have dissipated once they’ve slept over it but spending the night next to his friend somehow feels impossible right then.

Walking around on hard snow, hearing and feeling it crunch under his hiking boots while knowing it’s summer and he’ll have to face over 30°C again the next day is vaguely surreal. The snow field a few hundred metres away from their tent glows in a dark blue, the crystals reflecting the dying light of the sun and creating a strangely bright canvas. In most places, it has melted and re-frozen into a solid mass but there are some where it’s still malleable and allows for Thatcher to sink in one or two centimetres. He considers pissing his name into it but discards the idea as too juvenile, though the thought of leaving behind something possibly for other hikers to find is tempting.

Besides, he’s desperate for anything which will take his mind off… everything, really.

It’s starting to get hard to see, he should return soon instead of stumbling about and taking swigs directly out of the bright green bottle, the colour vibrant even now against the white backdrop. Caraway lingers on his tongue, a taste he doesn’t even enjoy that much yet Lesion convinced him to purchase and try the Scandinavian distillate regardless. Maybe he could just write something, his footsteps are crassly visible and disturb the landscape anyway, but what? His own name would seem self-centric but he squats down still, intent on leaving a mark somehow.

The snow is biting against the skin of his fingertips, the cold radiating and surrounding his body uncomfortable but he continues scratching letters into the half-frozen surface, at some point putting the brennevin away so he can use both hands. It’s almost therapeutic, switches off his brain and reduces him to nothing but his simple task. Once he’s finished, he steps away to inspect it in full view.

Who dares wins, the snow tells him.

He’s shivering.

When was the last time he took a leap of faith? When did he last dare, really dare? Instead of risking nothing because he already knew the stakes, had done something similar a handful of times before, pretended it was a hard decision but his mind had been made up all along?

His fingers are still numb when he zips open the tent to crawl inside. Over here, it’s much warmer, even warmer encased in yellow canvas. Lesion has dragged both their sleeping bags inside already, wrapped himself in his and has his back turned to him, pretending to sleep or possibly asleep already, maybe just dozing or woken up by Thatcher’s return. It doesn’t matter.

Though his eyes have adapted to the increasing darkness, here he can’t make out more than rough shapes and fumbles a bit until he finds what he’s looking for. When he unzips the sleeping bag, Lesion stirs, rolls over in response to an insistent hand pulling him towards Thatcher and sighs groggily – he really might’ve been sleeping already, has Thatcher been gone that long?

He startles awake when icy cold fingers seek out his jaw and struggles against the gentle hold for a moment, about to protest or maybe ask something or merely make a noise of objection, but this too doesn’t matter. Because Thatcher seals his lips with his own.

It’s awkward, their noses bump together and one of Thatcher’s arms isn’t happy with his position, he has to crane his neck and keep body tension so he doesn’t fall on top of the other man yet when he feels Lesion melt against him, it’s all forgotten, easily trumped by soft lips moving and a hand clawing at him for purchase, a leg sliding over his own and he’s so warm, Lesion is stupidly warm and how was he able to overlook this fact the entire time.

One of them gasps for air, one of them groans and suddenly they’re intertwined, making out with no stopping in sight and grabbing at everything in reach. Lesion tastes of caraway, too, his tongue scalding hot in Thatcher’s mouth, courting his own, and for the first time Thatcher admits to himself what it does to him, what Lesion does to him, has done a few times in the past, when colourful swirls and a tiger filled his vision, when fingers worked away at his thigh, and now even more so with their mouths pressed together. It’s insistent, hurried and hopeful somehow, Thatcher feels it as well, contributes to the urgency.

He slips one of his hands under Lesion’s shirt, causing him to mewl and shy away from the coldness, in his attempt to escape scooting impossibly closer to Thatcher, and he decides he likes this, enjoys making him squirm. He strokes his fingers over Lesion’s back, half expecting to be able to feel his tattoo somehow and earning another surprised yelp and angry wiggling, a tight grip around his forearm convincing him to relent and not leech more warmth than he’s offered.

The tent barely offers enough room for them to lie next to each other without touching but more than enough for Thatcher to lie down on top of Lesion, cover him with his body while licking into his mouth and drinking in his quiet panting. Arms wrap around him readily, holding him tight and preventing escape should he be foolish enough to consider it. He isn’t, however. Not this time.

They’re pushing against each other now, aimless and uncoordinated, him bearing down on Lesion and he moving against Thatcher, enough to create a spark between them which catches on and kindles fire; a fire fuelled by feeling Lesion’s naked legs rubbing over his, the small noises he’s making without being aware, the way he follows Thatcher’s lead and tilts his head to deepen their kissing, equally loath to interrupt it as the Brit is.

The silence between them should be unnerving yet Thatcher doesn’t care, communicates without words and pulls on Lesion’s underwear to convey what he wants. To take them off, Lesion breaks the kiss and Thatcher immediately moves his lips to another spot as if he’d lose years of his life for every second they’re not connected to any part of Lesion. He sucks his way down his neck and earns gasps in return which he decides he likes a lot also. Even so, the way Lesion jumps when Thatcher’s hand brushes over his naked hip makes it clear he’s not going to do much touching any time soon.

Mutely, Lesion makes him understand to flip them over and perches on top of him once he has reversed their positions. He’s in a much better spot to take care of them now, yet instead of opening Thatcher’s trousers, he spits into hand and reaches behind him and suddenly Thatcher can feel his own heartbeat in his teeth. Very nearly he lets out a curse but miraculously catches himself in the last second, listening intently to Lesion’s heavy breaths, every hitch, soft exhale, sharp inhale. Fierce need is pulsing through him, clouding his mind and occupying his thoughts. Distractedly, he unbuttons his jeans, careful not to touch any part of Lesion in the process, and frees stiff flesh looking for contact.

When Lesion leans down as if to avoid eye contact – which is impossible to establish in the blackness of the night anyway –, Thatcher claims his mouth once again, swallows all the quiet noises and allows his palms to run over Lesion’s torso, above the fabric to avoid more wincing. Even now when it’s clear what they’re about to do, they don’t slow down, don’t stop to indulge themselves or each other. Lesion deems himself ready much too soon and only briefly wraps slick fingers around Thatcher before moving his hips up, hovering for no more than a second before sinking down. His groan is tinted with pain but he doesn’t let that stop him and so Thatcher doesn’t interfere; partly also because he’s suddenly encased in tight heat which feels so incredibly good that he’s got trouble not thrusting deeper straightaway.

His hands are restlessly roaming, eager to explore all now that they’re allowed to and end up on Lesion’s thighs, massaging the burning skin and guiding his first tentative movements which quickly turn more fluid and come faster. It’s almost desperate but Thatcher refrains from slowing him down, too caught up in the moment to try and make it last. He wants this so badly he soon starts thrusting up, meeting Lesion’s hips with his own and wrenching sounds from his throat in the process. It turns out he’s surprisingly loud which is a whole other turn-on because it’s not for Thatcher’s benefit, not even for his own – it sounds involuntary and broken and cut-off, almost distressed, and Thatcher can’t get enough.

Even though Lesion is on top, Thatcher seizes all control and takes over, decides how to move and endeavours to coax more moans out of him by overwhelming him with stimulation: he nibbles at the nape of his neck, licks over his ear’s outer shell and sucks on his jaw. He feels out his back muscles and ribs and nipples and hipbones and caresses them all, catching him in an embrace repeatedly and making them move in unison. Every whine and whimper he harvests, uttered directly into his ear, makes it harder to breathe.

When he deems his hands warm enough, he reaches between their bodies, between Lesion’s legs, and grabs the hard, hot member to skilfully massage more moans out of Lesion: despairing, pitiful noises only rising in volume when he experiments a bit and increases the speed, adapting to Lesion’s more and more frantic motions as if he was scared of Thatcher stopping any second. He doesn’t, though, doesn’t let up, merely tightens his hold, increases the intensity and brings both of them closer and closer to the edge.

They come simultaneously by pure coincidence, Thatcher arching up and burying his face against Lesion’s shoulder while he pants in disbelief over how fucking good it feels, Lesion trembling above him and wrapping his own hand around Thatcher’s to show him how he likes it. They shudder while they gently ride it out, fingers digging into skin, teeth clenched, lower half throbbing in vicious relief, and only stop moving once the tension holding their bodies taut has subsided. Lesion pulls him out but doesn’t climb down which is fine with Thatcher, prompting him to disregard all concerns for cleanliness and embrace him, turn them on their sides and leave them pressed together.

Their breathing normalises over time and Lesion crawls into his open sleeping bag, dragging Thatcher with him, and yawns once they’ve interlaced their limbs. The alcohol probably plays a part in it but Thatcher is also thoroughly exhausted, muscles sore from all the walking and now this as well, adrenaline worn off, panic not yet setting in. The proximity of the smaller body encased in his arms shouldn’t be this soothing, and yet it is.

They fall asleep in each other’s arms, never having said a word after Thatcher came back. They just hold on like they’re each other’s lifeline.

It’s going to be a gloomy day. Thatcher can tell even before he opens his eyes.

Where he’s been waking up to bright sunshine for an entire week, blinding even through the tent’s fabric and his closed eyelids, now it’s subdued and inhibited, hardly strong enough to help him shake off the remnants of deep yet unrestful sleep. This is the second issue: he’s had too much to drink the night before and long passed the days when he could booze much and suffer little. His head is pounding… and so is his heart. Because there’s something else too. A mistake, his brain provides a little too eagerly and convinces him once more that he’s being chased, hunted, threatened, tortured – that he needs to flee or strike back or lash out preemptively.

Refusing to give in to these urges is remarkably difficult. Much more difficult than giving in to his urges the way he did the previous night, oddly enough, and isn’t that an interesting topic to bring up with his therapist.

He’s alone, which is a small comfort but a comfort nonetheless, he’d have recoiled violently had he woken up next to a warm body. His hungover, sleep-drunk mind is not a kind place. As he’s still clothed, he simply closes his trousers and ventures out into the world of eating or being eaten. And feels his composure crack when he catches sight of Lesion.

He looks terrible.

Not even after most missions in the past did he look this fatalistic, this crushed; he can’t have gotten a lick of sleep and is piteously wrapped in some of his spare clothes. The air is unusually cool today, the sun hidden behind thick layers of clouds and the night not showing any mercy for lost, regretting men. He’s not looking over but the hand with which he holds his mug starts shaking, so he rests it on the ground and blinks at it a little too often.

Thatcher’s chest seizes with guilt and confusion – there’s no doubt he did this, he’s the reason, but he doesn’t understand. How can Lesion know what Thatcher’s brain is telling him to do? How can he know just how big of a coward Thatcher really is? How did he know he was lying?

Unsure of what to say, he looks around and spots the bottle he left behind somewhere else yesterday, turns to the snow field and finds a large Chinese character next to where he assumes he carved his own message. Unlike his, it’s dark and perfectly visible, probably laid out with gravel and thus likely to remain considerably longer as well as garner more attention.

“What does the symbol stand for?”, he asks. It looks familiar but he can’t recall where he’s seen it before.

Lesion doesn’t raise his gaze. “Good fortune”, he answers quietly and his voice breaks on the second word. He’s a wreck and Thatcher doesn’t know how to remedy it.

No. That’s a lie. He just doesn’t want to.

But is that really the truth? Or is he -

They seem to fare better when they’re not looking at each other, so he sits down behind Lesion, pulls him against his chest and when he’s met with resistance, he only pulls harder. Once he can cradle him, he notices the slight shivering and whispers a reassuring shhh, repeats it while kissing his temple, while wrapping himself around him as much as he can, while gently wiping moisture away. It’s not much, Lesion isn’t allowing himself to give in completely, but it unambiguously shows Thatcher how worryingly blind he was, how wilfully ignorant. He knew, must’ve known about Lesion, but thought that staying by his side would be enough for the both of them. But it’s not. It never was. In quiet nights alone, it wasn’t, and it wasn’t when he knew Lesion was crashing on his sofa, and it wasn’t throughout the entire last week. He never – never did anything, doesn’t know whether Lesion has. For him it was no more than a restless scratching at the back of his skull.

It’s a long while until Lesion stops trembling, noticeably uncomfortable with this fact but Thatcher doesn’t comment on it, merely holds him close and peppers his hair with kisses. He smells good, despite all, he smells familiar and safe and it calms Thatcher’s racing heart a little.

“I don’t know what to do”, Lesion murmurs and finally rests his head against Thatcher’s shoulder, eyes closed. Thatcher wants to kiss him, hug him tighter, do something but isn’t certain what.

“I don’t either”, he replies, at a loss. “But I don’t think I’m going to say or do what you think I will.”

“Are you sure?”

No, he’s not sure. He has absolutely no idea what he’s doing and this time he can’t blame any alcohol for the almost aggressive emptiness in his mind. “I’ll try”, he offers because while he can’t provide certainty, he can provide this much. Their eyes meet and all his confidence vanishes in an instant, leaves him speechless and frantically searching for more to say because surely, it’s not enough, won’t be enough -

“Okay”, Lesion interrupts his thoughts. “Let’s eat and pack up then.”

And as he pulls away, rises to his feet to squat down a distance away, rummaging in their large backpacks, Thatcher recognises the tone of his voice as defeat. He doesn’t believe Thatcher’s words, doesn’t trust the half-hearted promise one bit and he’s right not to; his repressed grief shows on his face and his movements are aimless, sluggish, at some point he even halts and stares blankly at nothing. It’s not even that he isn’t expecting anything. He’s expecting to receive nothing.

His sun-kissed skin looks warm even from a distance and it’s an impossible task for Thatcher’s mind to link the person before him with the one he kissed the previous evening – he’d embraced him, touched him everywhere he could reach, heard him moan. Made him moan. It’s the same man. The same man with whom he stayed in regular contact for years no matter what, whose necessary silence from time to time felt punishing and whose jubilant messages always brightened his day.

Maybe this will be easier than he feared. He’s in Thatcher’s heart already, he doesn’t even need to let him in deliberately.

“Tze Long”, he says and has no clue how to continue, only knows he needs to get rid of that expression on his face. Fortunately for him, his friend doesn’t turn to him, merely pauses. “Look, I know I’m a shithead and you know it too, and sometimes I don’t think things through or overthink them, and you know me well enough to call me on my bullshite. And I respect that. So do it now.”

Lesion shakes his head, confused, meeting his gaze with a frown. “What do you mean?”

“Call me on it. Tell me no, you’re not convinced I’ll make any sort of effort. Tell me that you think I’ll keep you at arm’s length still, just like I have all this time. Tell me that you don’t expect anything to change, for me to conveniently forget about it all. You’re thinking it, so say it.”

His lips part. He struggles to come up with an answer, eventually wants to know: “Why?”

This is the scary part. Thatcher isn’t proud to admit it but he’s terrified of this, of their entire conversation, of having to deal with any of it. Their friendship was safe and familiar, they’d established a routine and beyond that routine lies chaos, uncertainty, uncharted land. But he dares to step into it. “How else do I get the chance to get upset, deny everything, run away, mull over what you said in private and without telling anyone, then begrudgingly and in a subclause mention that you’re right and set about changing it while pretending it was my idea all along?”

And that does it. Lesion’s stony expression softens, a small smile stealing onto his lips. He’s ready to listen. “You’d change it, would you?”, he asks just to be sure and Thatcher really can’t blame him.

“I would, yes. Because I’d know it’s worth it.” You’re worth it, a voice in his head supplies but isn’t strong enough to make it out of his mouth.

“How about we skip the whole beginning then? Seems a little redundant now.”

“You’re right, yes, let’s. The whole… self-awareness thing probably lessens the effect.”

“It does. So – you don’t actually need any of my input?”

“Well, it’ll definitely be helpful on some issues, I suppose.”

Lesion laughs and though it’s awkward, the sound lifts a weight off Thatcher’s chest. “Good Lord, you’re terrible at this.”

“Listen”, he starts to defend himself sheepishly, “I normally make a point of keeping friends and partners separate.”

“That actually explains a lot.” The backpack, previously half on Lesion’s lap, now lies forgotten next to him and it’s as if their surroundings don’t matter anymore – the bleak sky doesn’t, the cold blinding snow field doesn’t, the mountains don’t. Thatcher erroneously believed that it was Norway itself which provided peace of mind, a place he’d been meaning to visit for decades now but never got around to it, thought that this finally fulfilled wish granted him one of the happiest weeks of his life. Yet he could’ve gone to the Antarctic and possibly felt the same calm – provided he had Lesion by his side.

“Can I ask for a show of good faith?”, his friend requests quietly and adds, when he’s sure he has Thatcher’s attention: “Kiss me.”

He’d lie if he claimed he showed no hesitation, but he overcomes it. Crawling towards the other man, he doesn’t stop once he’s reached him, uses his leverage to push him down into the grass, follows suit and takes the time to mirror his smile. Last night they were in a similar position, Thatcher hovering above him, yet now it’s intentional, eyes locked, in full daylight, thoughts sober. He still wants to run, the urge hasn’t disappeared and neither has his discomfort over leaving himself figuratively naked. But it’s easier to resist now.

They kiss for a long time and it gets less strange with every passing second, morphs from awkward to nice and though it hasn’t yet reached lovely, it’s almost there. Thatcher will have to get used to it, used to all this, re-learn a few things, dust some of it off in his mind and unearth old rituals, bury certain habits. It’ll take time. And fortunately, Lesion is nothing if not patient.

When they break apart, they’re not out of breath, their hearts aren’t racing, there’s no insistent need for more and ever more. Instead, they’ve replaced the sun which so tragically abandoned them this morning by beaming at each other.

“Looks like I have to take back the ‘coward’ ”, Lesion states ambiguously.

“No, the coward was warranted. The liar, too.” Another quick peck. Something tells Thatcher that he’s going to get used to this much quicker than he might expect. “Hopefully you’ll sleep better from now on.”

Lesion doesn’t even seem surprised that Thatcher was aware of the real reason for his restless tossing and turning and merely nods. “Yes. I think we both will.”

#rainbow six siege #thatcher #lesion #thatcher/lesion #fanfic #oneshot #though it's technically set after the tattoo one #also lesion tells him at some point #I lost my socks and my phone #I couldn't stand it if I lost another precious thing #he's the real mvp in this

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