#[The Light of One Great || OoC Answer]

[mysteryoftwilight]

Shelby has one missed message from @siblingsoflight !

🎧 (for Celeste and Sora) { from this prompt, always accepting ! }

( I have too many so you're getting five for both. Long post, so I'm putting it under a cut. )

Red Like Roses pt. 2 - RWBY OST (but this is the version on her playlist so...) — Shell, if she knows Celeste's past, probably gets the read that she misses the 'good times' of when Xehagoat was kinder and her mom was around. While she's (thankfully) avoided situations like that, she's fully aware of that kind of hatred and anger.

Good Riddance (Time of Your Life) - Green Day — Another song depending on how much Shell knows about Celeste, but I feel like the two would sing this song to the other. They're roughly the same age, but I get the read that they're both in a similar mindset, if that makes sense?

The Room Where it Happens - Hamilton — Shell would feel sympathy for someone else who's been left behind as much as Celeste has. And while Shelby is content avoiding being in the thick of the bullshit, she does get the impression that Celeste would've rather had been there, helping her brother. Such is the difference between someone who has a Key.blade and someone who doesn't, I guess.

La.dy Mar.ia of the Ast.ral Cloc.ktower - Bloo.dborne: The Ol.d Hun.ters OST — Everyone deserves a Soulsborne boss theme, and for some reason Shelby's leaning towards this one. Maybe it's her association with the Mysterious Tower? Celeste doesn't have much to connect her to the boss the track is for, anyway.

Yonah (piano ver.) - Ni.er OST — Maybe Shelby's reading too deep into things (wouldn't be the first time), but she feels a strange melancholy around Celeste best exemplified by this song.

Burn Butcher, Burn - Witch.er S2 OST — Mostly as a joke, but she is still bitter about him being the lynchpin that caused her life to get complicated and being related to why she was stuck in the WTNW until Lea busted her out. Probably flips him off when he's not looking.

Ash Like Snow - the brilliant green (but like this ancient English version specifically) — Shell, having been in therapy, is extremely concerned for Sora's mental health. She sees the way he puts himself down with his self talk, and even thinks he should rephrase his catchphrase because saying 'my friends are [the source of] my power!' is very unhealthy and liable to have him have a mental break if anything should happen to them. He's just a kid; why does he have to put so much on his shoulders?

Carry on my Wayward Son - Kansas — Related to the above reasoning. As much as she will grumble and bemoan having to be witness to him and his friends doing stupid shit and being social, she does legitimately want him to find rest. He's done so much for everyone else, he deserves it...

Just, ya know. Don't tell him she said / thinks that.

Those United in Common Cause - Eld.en Rin.g: Shad.ow of the Erd.tree OST — This is just what she heard during the fighting at the Keyb.lade Grav.eyard. Sora, a little like Kin.dly Miq.uella, has a charm he has on others. Everyone gathered was united by a common cause, and she was lucky to walk away from such a clash.

A Moment of Camaraderie - F.inal F.antasy V.II Cri.sis Co.re OST — idk why, but I feel like their dynamic is pretty similar to Za.ck's and Seph.iroth's. She's all gloom and seriousness, while Sora's the excitable puppy. Despite that, she still thinks of him fondly... even if she's going to call him an idiot for the millionth time for something minor.

[gojorgeous]

"creature of myth."

pairing: vampire!gojo x fem!human!reader summary: when you receive an offer of marriage from a mysterious wealthy lord, it’s too good a deal for your family to turn down. but nothing could be so perfect... right? content: MDNI (18+  ONLY), dark content, nsfw, gets dubcon/noncon in some spots, yandere behavior from gojo, implied death/k*lling of a character (not reader or gojo), arranged marriage, victorian au, plot that ends with porn lmao, spooky dooky vibes, blood, blood sucking/eating, praise, biting, unprotected sex, creampie, virgin!reader, discussion of virginity, cherry popping, pain, pet names (princess/love), reader is highkey clueless about sex, discussion of masturbation, ideas of masturbation as “sinful”, very minor religious themes, fated “mates”, gojo is highkey insane, coercion and manipulation, like SO much neck kissing, ooc gojo??? (had to alter his character to match a victorian vampire lord LMAO). a/n: PLEASE READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS. THERE IS DARK CONTENT AHEAD. is this a gojo fic or a twilight fic?? Going back to my roots fr fr. straight down to the “SAY IT, SAY IT”. this fic is also way too long my apologies bbs. i hope you like a hefty side of plot with your porn. parts of this fic feel way too cheesy to me but sometimes i eat that up, yk?? this fic was inspired by this amazing work by @rice5x ! and, finally, thank you all for the support on my most recent fics. i'm just getting back into being active on this blog and it's been amazing reading each and every comment/reblog/ask. they genuinely fill me with so much joy. keep them coming hehe. anyway, i hope you enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED. credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. banner art by @ndsoda on twitter. wc: 11.6k (sowwy)

You remember perfectly the way your mother’s jaw dropped when Satoru Gojo proposed to you. You’d never seen the man, and you still hadn’t. He’d asked to marry you via messenger, a simple letter delivered by hand with a list of all the things he’d be willing to pay for your hand. Offers of money, land, protection, connection- anything so long as he got you. You’d thought it was a joke. Your father nearly took a shovel to the head of the poor messenger, thinking the letter was some kind of cruel prank, some sort of targeted disrespect. You’d only started to believe when you really looked- saw the Gojo crest embroidered on the man’s suit, the fine leather of his boots. If it was a prank, somebody had spent a great deal of money and effort to pull it off. 

You’d asked for proof nonetheless, and you’d gotten it. Documents signed and sealed with a well-known waxen crest, gifts that could only have been purchased by a wealthy lord. The one thing you never got was the lord himself. He refused to see you, to come down from his mysterious castle on the hill. It didn’t surprise you. He rarely deemed town worthy of his presence. He had a reputation as a recluse, as a man who only ever liked to see and never be seen. What little glimpses people got of him were usually through the dark window of his carriage. Still, his appearance preceded him. White hair, light eyes… “haunting” said those who had the luck to see him. Those who went to work for the lord tended to return… changed— if they returned at all. 

You accepted, of course. How could you not? You were a peasant family with no status or wealth to your name. The promises Lord Gojo had made would make your parents into aristocrats all on their own. But that left you wondering… why did he want you? You offered him no benefit. If anything, you sullied his bloodline. The question scratched at the back of your mind. It came to you while you ate breakfast, while you washed your clothes, while you weeded in the garden. Some part of you told you that you needed the answer before you ever stepped foot in that castle. You needed that answer, but you’d never get it. 

Your wedding wasn’t even a wedding- just a piece of paper that had already been signed and witnessed, once again delivered by a familiar messenger. You signed at your dining room table and… that was that. You were married. 

Later that night the carriages arrive. Men flood your home, all dressed in blue velvet, the Gojo crest embroidered on their chests. They seem puzzled when you tell them you’ve packed all your belongings into a measly three bags. 

You say a quick goodbye to your parents, drawing them into stiff embraces. You love them, and they love you, but you can’t bear to see their faces as they send you away to a man who couldn’t even show his face for your wedding. 

The carriage ride is somehow longer than you’d thought it would be- apparently, the castle’s size makes it seem deceptively close. The trip is rocky and twisty and altogether unpleasant as you steadily make your way toward the castle gates. By the time you reach them you think you’ve probably dozed in and out of consciousness at least half a dozen times. 

The castle is even more intimidating up close. Spires that swirl into the clouds, sculptures that stare, doors that look more suited to being locked than opened. It’s… terrifying. 

When you finally roll to a stop, you move for the door. When you swing it open you get your fair share of strange looks from your attendants and remember that you should have waited for the footman. Your face heats as you climb out anyway, unwilling to subject yourself to the further humiliation of waiting for assistance. 

Your feet hit gravel and all you can do is stare- up, up, up, to where the castle’s peaks disappear into the fog. When your eye flashes to a window on the east side of the manor you think you see a swaying curtain. You tuck your arms around yourself and shiver, but it’s not from the cold. 

You nearly stumble over your feet on your first step inside. The entrance hall is larger than your former house, with ceilings that stretch so high you can hardly make out the figures on the frescoes that adorn it. Silver and blue drape everywhere, the Gojo family colors. You swallow when you see a chair that is most definitely worth more than your family’s annual income. 

The floors are marble and when your worn heels clack against it, you only feel reminded that you don’t belong here. That question pricks in your mind again as you pass portraits of every Gojo heir to have lived in the last three hundred years. Why me? Why me? Why me? 

Your footman deposits you in your room, a place more lavish than you’ve ever seen. You have a four poster bed with a canopy of blue velvet, a window that overlooks a sprawling estate, and more square footage than you’ve ever dreamed of. 

“Pull this if you need any sort of assistance, ma’am.” 

You turn to see your footman referencing a silver cord at your bedside. You assume it’s one of those contraptions that rings a bell in the servants’ quarters. You try to hide your amazement- you’ve never seen one in real life before. 

You clear your throat and give your most ladylike nod. “Thank you, um-” you pause, your brow furrowing. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I asked your name.” 

Your footman appears stunned to silence, like he’d never expected you to care about his existence, much less his name. He recovers quickly, though, and forces a small smile. “Thomas, ma’am.”

You smile and it’s genuine. “Thank you, Thomas.”He bows and makes a beeline for the door, but you have one more question. “Oh, um, Thomas-” He freezes, turning slowly on his heel to face you. 

“Yes, my lady?” 

You cringe at the title. The sound of it creeps across your skin, foreign and… wrong. Why me? Why me? Why me?

You clear your throat again. “Do you know, um, well-” You shift, trying to word your question properly. “Do you know when I might see the Lord?” 

There is a pause, a moment of tension and silence, and then an answer. “No, my lady.”

Thomas does not stick around for more questioning. The door clicks shut behind him and then you're left with only the sound of retreating footsteps. 

You’re stunned to say the least, mouth still halfway open, more questions on the tip of your tongue. Should you seek him out? Was that proper? Would he come to you? Would he meet you for dinner, perhaps? Surely he would come to your room tonight to… consummate. Would that be the first time you lay eyes on him? When he’s over you? 

You sigh. There’s nothing much to be done about it now. You find your way to the bed and sit down hesitantly. It feels like a crime to rumple such primped and polished cotton. You do it anyway- it’s going to happen sometime, right? You fall back against the mattress and don’t fail to notice how utterly comfortable it is. The silvery patterns on your canopy swirl and bend together. You’re tired. You didn’t sleep much last night, anxious for the morning… and it’s only mid-afternoon now. You had time for a nap, right? Your eyes are closing before you can convince yourself it’s a bad idea and then you’re swept away into a world of warm darkness. 

You wake with a start. Your first thought is that it’s dark now. Your room is pitch black except for the stream of moonlight passing through your stupidly large window. Your mouth feels dry and your skin is cold, like you’ve just woken from a nightmare. If you have, you don’t remember it. Perhaps that’s a blessing. 

You sit up, combing a finger through your hair and laughing pitifully when you realize that you left your shoes on as you slept. You hope Thomas didn’t walk in to find you in yet another unladylike position. A glance at the foot of the bed reveals he might have. Your bags have arrived- all three of them. You eye them with a combination of longing and contempt. They don't match this place. They’re worn and used- everything here is shiny and new. Still, they’re all you have, and all you have left of your life before. All you have left of home. 

You stretch your arms above your head, nearly groaning at the burn in your muscles. The carriage ride did your body no favors and you suspect you’ll be sore for many days to come. 

You rise, no longer content to lie in bed. You’ve had your rest and, from the state of darkness outside, you suspect your new husband might be joining you soon. The thought twists a certain tightness into your gut, but you push it aside. If that was the price you paid for all he gave your family… then you’d pay it gladly. 

You start with candles, finding a box of matches at your bedside. You light every candelabra you can find. The room, the castle, seems so perpetually… black- like it soaks up every ray of light it touches. Even when you’ve finished it doesn’t feel like enough. You make a note to ask Thomas for more in the morning. 

You find a meal, carefully prepared and preserved, on a table near your dresser. Judging by the fact that it’s still warm, you conclude that it can’t be much past mid-evening. You originally intend to pick at the food as you unpack, but one bite has your mouth watering. It is the most delicious thing to ever touch your lips, complete with dessert waiting on the side. You clean your plate before moving onto your bags. 

You lay your clothes out on the bed. A few dresses, riding pants, undergarments, an assortment of ribbons and bows. At one time these items had been the finest things you owned- now you owned a castle. 

You find an armoire that looks like a master sculptor carved its edges and grab a dress, intending to hang it. Instead, your dress hits the floor when you part the doors to find the hangers already full. Your lips part. Luxury dresses of silk and satin line the rack, fading into some that appear more casual outfits of cotton and linen. You stretch a hand out, curious and utterly… amazed. To think your new husband had gone to all the effort… Your hand brushes purple silk and- 

“Do you like them?” 

You screech, jumping to face the voice at your back. It takes a moment for your eyes to find him, leaning casually against one post of your bed. Your breath is stolen for a second time. Snow white hair, piercingly blue eyes, pale soft skin… you know who he is even without looking at his dress, at the air of authority he claims. He’s your husband… and he is the most devastatingly beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. 

He laughs, then, and it’s a warmer sound than you’d thought it would be- rich and full. A sound that seeps into your bones and settles in your soul. 

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, but the twinkle in his eyes makes you think that perhaps that’s a lie. 

Your heart pounds and your eyes flash to the door. It’s shut. You didn’t hear it open, nor did you hear it close behind him. You also didn’t hear footsteps, didn’t hear breaths, didn’t hear him. 

He follows your gaze and laughs again, though it sounds a bit… strained? 

“I have a habit of being unintentionally lightfooted. I apologize.” 

Your heart is still pounding but you find it in yourself to have some decorum. You snap your jaw shut and bow your head slightly in respect. “You must be Lord Gojo. Forgive me for my insolence.” 

There’s a beat, and then footsteps– ones you actually hear this time. You clench your jaw when he stops before you and then nearly gasp when he takes your hand and brings it to his lips. 

“Satoru, please,” he winks and you think you might stop breathing. “I am your husband after all.” 

You force yourself to nod, to swallow, to act normal. But how can you in the presence of a man that looks like… that? There’s something too unreal about him, too perfect. It’s almost… unsettling. 

“Of course… Satoru.” 

He straightens and shows you a close-lipped smile that digs a dimple into his left cheek. You have to look away to avoid stumbling over your own feet. 

“So, do you like them?” Your brows furrow- “The dresses,” he clarifies. 

“O-oh.” Your features relax into an easy smile. You turn back to your armoire, running a hand along another gown. You don’t think you’ve ever touched something so… finely made. “I like them very much. I don’t know how to thank you.” 

There’s a little chuckle as you turn to face him again and you have to steel yourself before you meet his eyes. He’s mesmerizing, too mesmerizing. You think you could probably lose yourself in those eyes forever… 

“No need to thank me. If they don’t fit, we’ll call for the seamstress in the morning.” 

You nod softly, still lost to the situation. There’s a beat of silence in which your husband does nothing but… look at you. His eyes roam freely and the hair on your arms stands under his gaze. He traces the lines of your nose and jaw and lingers on your pulse. Can he see just how fast your heart is pounding?

“Did you… get dinner?” It’s a stupid question, you know, but you don’t think you can bear another second of that look he’s giving you. “I fell asleep and found a plate. I hope I didn’t prevent a proper meal…” You trail off. Perhaps you shouldn’t have pointed out your own shortcoming? 

He gives you another smile and you swear he inches just a little closer. “You did no such thing. I’m… perfectly satisfied.” 

You nod, glad that he doesn’t seem upset at the very least. Your lips press together, unsure of what to do or say. You’ve never had a husband before. Wasn’t he supposed to just sort of… put you on the bed and… do it?

Your eyes flit to said bed and your husband must see because he hurries to continue. 

“Well, I’ll see you in the morning then, hm?” His eyes flit to your armoire and back again. “Wear the blue dress with the lace to breakfast, yeah? Been dying to see it on you.” He chuckles like he’s just told some sort of amusing joke.

Your brows furrow. That was… not the topic you’d been expecting. “You’re not…” You feel your cheeks heat and tighten your jaw. “Not staying the night?” 

His lashes lower a fraction and those eyes pierce you again. You don’t think you could move even if you wanted to, even with him prowling closer, each step eating up the space between you. He doesn’t stop until you’re nose to nose and you can feel his breath fanning over your cheeks. It’s cold somehow, chilling, and you shiver. He smirks. 

“Not tonight.” 

His head dips and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, but then he’s bypassing your mouth altogether and- his lips connect to your pulse. His mouth is cool, just like his breath, and you shiver uncontrollably under his touch. 

His touch is just a fleeting moment, just a wrinkle in time, and then he’s gone. His footsteps are quiet brushes on the hardwood and the creak of the door even seems tamed in his presence. 

“Goodnight,” is all he says, and then he’s gone. 

You climb into your bed an hour later wondering what in the world just happened. 

~  

You do wear the blue dress to breakfast and you can only gape in the mirror when you realize that it fits perfectly. It has you second-guessing yourself. Had you sent your measurements in advance and forgotten about it? No, you’d only sent a handful of pieces of information to the Lord prior to your marriage and you remembered all of them very clearly. Everything had gone through a messenger, everything had been clear and direct– you would have remembered sending your measurements– you didn’t. So had he just… guessed? 

That seemed impossible with how everything fit you like a glove, but it was the only explanation you had. The only one that made sense. 

When you join Satoru for breakfast it’s in a sitting room as lavishly decorated as the rest of the castle, but perhaps organized to be a bit more… liveable. He has no plate in front of him, only a tin cup that hides the contents of whatever he’s drinking. You assume coffee or juice. Perhaps he’s just not a breakfast person. 

“It fits!” he says. His hands clasp together in front of him and he smiles again, dimples and all. 

You nod and fight the heat that bubbles beneath your cheeks as you take your seat. “Yes, perfectly.”

A plate is set before you and a glance up reveals it’s Thomas serving your breakfast. You smile, hoping for some acknowledgement from him, for a small piece of comfort. Instead, you get his averted gaze and quick retreat. Your brows furrow, but before you can say anything, Satoru is back to speaking. 

“I hope Thomas treated you well yesterday?” 

You glance up, but Satoru’s eyes aren’t on you, they’re on your footman. His smile is bright, but it’s anything but friendly. You fight a shiver. 

You glance at Thomas. He’s perfectly still, perfectly straight, but you think you see a muscle clench in his jaw. You clear your throat. “Y-Yes. Thomas was very helpful.” When Satoru keeps staring the boy down you add, “-and very respectful.” 

That seems to satisfy. Satoru breaks his stare and some of the tension in the air instantly eases. He shoots you another dimpled smile, this one with a little more warmth. “Perfect.” 

There’s a beat and then he’s standing, draining whatever he has in his cup and then straightening his jacket. “Well, I have some work to do. I’ll see you for dinner?” He’s grinning again, like it’s so normal for a man to abandon his bride on their wedding night and then again the morning after. All you can do is nod. He chuckles. “See you then, princess.” And then he’s gone.

~

If this is to be your life you don't know how you will survive it. You spend the day milling about. Through the gardens, through the castle, through the stables. Thomas is never far behind, but any attempt at conversation is nipped in the bud by hit shortness. It’s like he fears coming too close. He’s never closer than a couple paces except when he has to bring you something, only to retreat again as soon as possible. The other servants barely pay you any mind apart from giving you a respectful greeting and then immediately averting their eyes. There is no work to be done, no guests to be had, no parties to plan… and no Satoru. You don’t see your husband once on tour around the grounds. You ask Thomas where his office is only for him to vaguely point out a window in the east tower. You don’t see so much as a ripple in the curtains. 

Dinner comes around at the pace of a snail. When it’s finally time to get dressed a lady’s maid whose name you don’t even catch arrives to help you lace your dress. As soon as your corset is deemed tight enough she’s back out the door with a curtsy. Thomas leads you to the dining room and your eyes roam the whole way. Even after having spent the whole day exploring, there are halls and corridors that you’ve yet to step foot in. 

The dining room is just as gorgeous as the rest of the place– filled with singular items that could feed entire families for years. Somehow, you think you’ve already grown accustomed to such things, since the only thing you truly care to look at is your husband. Satoru’s already seated, but he stands when you enter, looping around the table to pull a chair out for you. 

You give him your most genuine smile, accepting a kiss to your knuckles in greeting before you settle. “How was your day?” you ask as he takes his seat again. 

He chuckles. “Perfectly fine. And how was yours, princess?” Your nose crinkles. That’s the second time he’s called you that. Something about it feels wrong. You’re still getting used to being a lady. Princess feels even worse. 

“It was… good.”

You watch a perfect white brow arch in the candlelight. “Oh? Just good?” You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker to the corner– to Thomas. 

You hurry to elaborate. “Well, I just– I can’t help but feel as if there’s not much… use for me.” Servants flood in, some carrying wine, others carrying trays that hold more food than the both of you could ever possibly consume. 

That brow arches impossibly higher. “Use?” His lips crack into that smile again, but it’s tight this time. Too tight. “You have no use. You only enjoy yourself. Surely Thomas has told you that.” 

A plate of steaming food plops in front of you. Even its heavenly smell can’t quell the sudden dread in your gut. “Of course! Of course he did.” Your stomach twists and you decide that perhaps now is not the time to press the subject. “I’ll just… I’ll try riding tomorrow.” You hate riding, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind. 

Satoru’s smile thaws into something less menacing. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.” 

You nod eagerly. “I’m sure I will.” 

You grab your fork, eager for a new subject. From what you can tell, dinner is roast chicken and vegetables, though it’s the luxury version as everything seems to be. The spices are intoxicating and the green beans are even arranged in a pretty little pattern that makes them look too good to eat. You do anyway. The first bite nearly makes you moan, but you chew slowly, delicately, trying not to let your upbringing show.

It’s not until several bites later that you realize you’re the only one eating. A quick glance reveals your husband has no platter, no chicken or green beans. He’s only… watching you. You clear your throat, dabbing at your lips with a napkin. 

“You’re not… eating?”

That permanent smile grows a little wider and you can’t help but feel as if there’s something… menacing about it. “Ate before I came.” 

Your brows furrow. “Oh. Were you on the road?” 

You think you see something wild flash in his eyes. “No.” 

The rest of dinner passes slowly, almost painfully. Satoru doesn’t eat a bite, doesn’t even look enticed. You wonder how that’s possible when it smells like a spice bomb went off in the dining room. 

By the time you’ve cleared your plate you’ve discussed everything from the number of horses in the stables to kinds of crops grown on the estate. It’s comforting to know a little more about your new home, but it’s not enough. 

“Is there a library?” you ask. You’re on dessert now. It’s the best chocolate cake you’ve ever had and it takes everything in you to hold back a moan each time it touches your tongue. 

“Of course.” Your husband’s eyes flicker to Thomas again and you’re honestly starting to fear for the poor footman’s life. Everytime you ask a question it’s like Satoru is angry it hasn’t already been answered. “It’s yours to use as you please.” 

You smile lightly. “Perfect. Thank you.” 

He softens a bit at that. “Is there anything specific you wanted to read about?” 

You shrug. “The estate, I suppose. I should know my home’s history, no?”

His eyes get that wild look again, that sparkle that you know speaks to nothing good. “Oh, absolutely. I have some personal favorites to recommend. I’ll leave them aside for you?” 

You swallow and give him a shallow nod. “That would be perfect. Thank you.” 

He chuckles. “My pleasure.” 

When dessert is finally over, you stand slowly. Satoru’s not far behind you, saying he’ll walk you to your room. Your heart leaps at his words. Will he stay with you tonight? 

He offers you his arm in the hall and your mouth runs dry when you feel the corded muscle beneath his jacket. By the time you reach your room, you’re thinking of tugging him in behind you. His denial to stay with you last night was not only confusing, but… off putting. Nearly offensive. Did he not like how you looked? Did he think something was wrong with you? 

You muster all the courage you possess and force your lips apart. “Will you stay with me tonight?” 

His eyes spark again and you hold your breath. He presses closer. This is it, you think. His lips hover over yours, eyes glimmering in the candlelight. And then he dips his head, his mouth pressing to your pulse. 

“Not tonight,” he whispers– and then he’s gone. 

~

You wake suddenly. It’s the middle of the night, you gather. The light streaming through the window is weak enough to only be that of the moon. 

Your heart is pounding and your skin is slick with sweat despite the chill in your bones. A nightmare, you think. It must have been a nightmare. 

As you settle back into your sheets you swear you see a ripple in the darkness. You close your eyes. If your nightmare is real, you’d rather not see it coming.

~

The library is huge. It’s sprawling and smells of paper and leather and everytime Thomas lights a candle you flinch at the idea that one misplaced spark could end thousands of years of knowledge. 

The books Satoru left you are… perfect. Just what you were looking for. They’re all comprehensive volumes of the history of the estate, many of which reference each other. You’re stunned to see that several are written by very well-known authors of both the past and the present. You knew the Gojo family’s influence reached far, but not that far. You peruse the titles. The Gojos: A History, A History of the Gojo Crest, History of the Gojo Castle, Revisiting the Gojo Family: A Comprehensive History. Altogether you have well over a few thousand pages of information– but there’s one book that doesn’t fit with the rest. It’s relatively unassuming. A black cover with some sort of gold rune etched onto its front. When you flip to the title page it reads “Creatures of Myth and Where To Find Them”. Your brows furrow. You slide it to the side– must have gotten mixed in with the others, you think.

~

You ask Thomas to bring the books to your room. He does. Very respectfully. He sets them on your bedside table and then retreats like a kicked puppy with only a polite goodbye. You sigh. His behavior has only gotten stranger in the past few days. You think the servants’ coldness must have something to do with Satoru, but you can’t figure out why. Had he ordered them to stay away? Why would he? 

You decide it’s a question for another day and dive into your books. You spend hours, days, reading every chapter, page, and word. The pure amount of information is dizzying. Apparently this specific estate had been in the hands of the Gojo family since the eighth century (with several razings and consequential rebuilds). You also learn that Satoru was not only the most wealthy lord on the continent, but the most wealthy man. Even wealthier than the king apparently, though that fact was kept fairly under wraps to protect the crown’s ego. The estimates of your husband’s net worth made your head spin.

Satoru joins you for breakfast and dinner every day. You never see him eat a morsel. It’s… unsettling to say the least. It’s always just that tin cup, filled with something you could never quite see. You develop a pattern of waking in the night, too, with the overwhelming sense that something is watching you. Sometimes you could swear you feel the bed shift as you jerk awake. Each time you simply close your eyes and try your best to slow your heart, convinced your mind is playing tricks on you. 

Your days feel a little more productive with a book in your hands, but you’ve read them all three times over by the time a fortnight has passed. You find yourself packing them up to return to Thomas when a certain black cover catches your attention. You grab it from the pile and settle back into your seat. You’ve nothing better to do, right? 

You flip back the cover, revealing a familiar title. “Creatures of Myth and Where to Find Them”. You don’t recognize the author’s name. A quick scroll through the table of contents reveals nothing particularly interesting, but you pick a random chapter on ghouls and decide to start there. 

It’s fascinating. Nothing about the style is boring and the words fly by. Your silly little myth book is a page turner. By the time you notice the light has started dying you’ve read about ghosts, fairies, werewolves, and goblins– all of which have been a delightful little read. A glance at the clock reveals you have a half hour before dinner. One more chapter, you think. Your eyes skim the title. “Vampires [Vampyr]”. 

You skim the first paragraphs until your eyes settle on a line that catches your eye. 

“Contrary to popular belief, vampires are not always crazed blood-hungry monsters. Many live among humans quite comfortably and are able to avoid detection with a little well-placed effort.” 

You purse your lips. What a… terrifying thought. You skim a little further. 

“A vampire’s key characteristic is, of course, their desire and need to drink human blood as sustenance. However, a vampire can be spotted sooner if one is able to recognize their subtler traits. Vampires often have skin lacking any sort of flush. The lack of blood in their veins results in a sickly pallor, even after the most rigorous exercise. Their skin is also noticeably cold to the touch. At best, a vampire’s body will reach room temperature. Vampires can also be noted for their preternatural beauty. They will stand out as the most attractive person in any crowd. Finally, a vampire will have fangs. If one wishes to identify a vampire, one only needs a good look at their teeth”.

A chill settles over your skin. You flip ahead a few pages. 

“Vampires are unable to consume typical human food. Should they attempt to, their bodies will immediately reject any and all foreign substances.” 

Your stomach drops. You don’t want to think about why. You skip the rest of the paragraph. 

“Vampires possess several supernatural abilities that set them apart as a human’s predator rather than their equal. Vampires are known to move unnaturally fast and are notably light footed. If a vampire does not wish to be heard, they will not be. A vampire’s strength is inhuman, well over ten times that of the average man. They also have a penchant for darkness, an ability to hide away in the shadows that cannot be explained. Oftentimes they will seem to appear from thin air.”

You skip ahead again.

“Vampires have been known to take mates. Mates usually come in the form of another vampire, but in some cases a human has been chosen. Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly. Oftentimes, vampires make these decisions with haste, with little regard for whether or not the threat was real. A vampire will do everything in their power to please their mate, but have been known to forcibly restrain their mates in situations of unrequited feelings. Above all else, vampires wish to possess their mates. Two bonded vampires will sometimes spiral into gloriously destructive fits in their endless desire to protect and possess one another. A vampire bonded to a human will show an increasingly protective nature, often isolating their mate from others.”

Your heart pounds. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. You flip the pages, desperate– desperate for a piece of information that will save you from the thoughts spilling in your mind, from the thoughts you will do anything not to believe. You reach the “Where to Find Them” subsection and nearly gasp with relief. Surely, vampires do not pose as wealthy lords of Europe? 

“Vampires can be found everywhere. They do not exist in only one country or continent, but all over the world. Odds are that you have faced at least one vampire in your life, unknowingly or not. Some vampires choose to live solitary lives, surviving in the wilderness where human society will not attempt to tame their wild nature. Others choose to live among humans, some even existing in positions of very high authority.” 

No, no, no. This can’t be happening to you. It can’t be real. You’re dreaming, you’re having one of those nightmares again. You’re going to wake up any second. 

“One tale recounts a razing of the Gojo estate in the 12th century.” 

You’re panting, hyperventilating. This isn’t happening. 

“Soldiers of the enemy force recounted a singular man, the son and heir of the then Lord Gojo, taking out a minimum of 800 men. He was described as having his family’s characteristic white hair as well as blue eyes. Eyewitness accounts depict the Gojo heir as covered in blood and killing savagely and with inhuman strength.” 

No, no, no. 

“(See next page for only existing portrait)”

Your fingers tremble but you can’t stop them. There’s no way. It’s not possible. 

You flip the page and Satoru stares back at you. 

Knock! Knock! Knock!

You nearly scream. Your door rattles angrily, but you’re not sure you can answer it, not with the knowledge flooding your mind. The knocking continues. You run your hand over your face and smooth down your hair. You feel frazzled, dirty, despite not having moved from your chair all day. Another knock prompts you to set your book aside and stand. You do your best to compose yourself, to put on a straight face. You fail instantly when you pull back the door not to reveal your faithful attendant, not Thomas, but Satoru. 

You bite back a shriek and instead force a smile. You’re suddenly very aware of the blood pounding in you veins and of the fact that he most likely knows. 

“Hello,” he says, but his voice is lower than usually, more intense. 

You force a breath into your lungs. “Hello,” you answer, but it sounds more like a squeak than a greeting. 

Something flashes in his eyes, something familiar, something that is no longer interesting but rather terrifying. “Are you alright? You seem a little… flushed.” The concern on his face feels anything but genuine. 

“I’m fine,” you answer, but even you can tell that reply too quickly, too eagerly. You rush to cover it up. “Is it time for dinner? Where’s Thomas?” 

His lip twitches and you see a muscle in his jaw flex. “Thomas has… left us.” 

No. This wasn’t happening to you. There was no way this was happening to you. 

“He… what?” There’s an unmistakable wobble in your voice that only causes Satoru’s face to fall further. 

“It’s no matter. He’s gone. Now it’s just you and me, hm?” He chuckles and the sound rattles your bones. “In fact, I was thinking I’d cut down on the number of servants we have entirely…” 

You mind races with the memory of knowledge you wish you didn’t have. “Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly.”

You nearly stumble, but lean against the doorframe just in time. Your husband had disposed of a man, all because he brought you meals and books?

“What have you been up to today, princess?” The question breaks your trance just in time for you to see your husband’s eyes flicker behind you. 

You wet your lips. “Just some reading.” You plead that he doesn’t ask anything further. He does. 

“About the estate?” he asks. 

You nod and try to swallow the lump in your throat. “Yes.”

His smile returns and this time it’s not forced. “You got my books, then?” 

You try smiling back, but you’re fairly sure it looks more like a grimace. “Yes.”

“Anything interesting?” he presses.

This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Does he know? Does he know that you know? “Yes, of course. Lots.” 

He pauses and you see the debate and then the decision in his eyes. You think it’s the first time you’ve felt true terror when he meets your gaze again. “I think we should skip dinner tonight. It seems we have so much to discuss.”

You don’t even have the wherewithal to scream when he steps into you, forcing you back until he’s shutting your door behind him. He doesn’t stop there, though. He keeps pressing, keeps pushing until your knees hit the bed and you’re falling to the mattress. He crawls right after you.

“Who knew my little wife was such a reader? All those books in such a short time… You must be simply spilling with information.” 

You retreat across the mattress, squeaking when your back hits the headboard and his arms cage your waist. You’re trapped.

His hands find your hips and you’re all too aware of how cool his touch is. Even more so when he pulls you right into his lap.

“Satoru-” your voice is pitiful, breathless, and you’re ashamed to say it’s not just from the fear in your gut. He’s never been this close before, never touched you, held you like this. “Thomas-” 

“Don’t speak his name.” His face pulls into the first scowl you’ve ever seen and the sight is enough to root you to the spot. Never have you seen anything more frightening. A creature so beautiful, so perfectly angelic, filled with an insurmountable rage. It’s wrong. “He’s gone. He’ll never bother you again.” He’s closer now, his breath skating over your skin. It’s cool and now you know the reason why. 

You shake and tremble and you know– Thomas is dead. Your husband killed him– killed him for getting too close when all he did was stay at a distance. Satoru killed him. Killed him. 

He buries himself in your neck, his voice a near whine. “Thought I could put up with it, just so you’d have someone to take care of you…” He groans. “I was so wrong, princess. Couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand the way you smelled more like him than me…” 

You feel him melt against you then, relief washing over his body in a wave. “But he’s gone. And now it’s just you and me, hm? Just you and me…” He hums, like remembering that fact is all he’s ever needed.

He’s kissing your pulse again, now, and your heart is racing faster than ever. Your fingers curl into his shoulders. You should push him away, away, away. He’s a killer, of thousands no doubt. You’ve never felt at home here, never felt like you belonged. This is why. You’re not even the same species. He’s something else, something your hands were never meant to touch. 

Your mind screams at you to do go, to shove and kick at him and leave this place behind. Go, go, go your gut says… but you don’t. You can’t. It’s too… good. The feeling of his cool lips against your skin, of what you’re sure is his tongue prodding at your pulse… it’s intoxicating. He is intoxicating. How could anyone blame you for wanting more of someone, something, so divine? 

“Have you figured it out yet, love?” Your breath hitches and he chuckles, licking a long stripe up your neck, before he settles back at your pulse. Always your pulse. “I can feel those little gears turning. Tell me, what have they discovered?” 

He knows you know. But he’s going to make you say it. You swallow and feel his grip on you tighten. “You’re…” Your breaths come faster. You can’t. Not aloud. Aloud makes it too… real. 

“Yessss?” he prods. He’s licking at you again, all the way across your throat to find your other pulse-point. 

“You’re not…” Something sharps nicks at your skin and you bite your lip to hold back a whimper. 

“Go on, princess.” You think he’s just smelling you now, just burying his face as close to you as possible and taking you in. 

You close your eyes tightly, holding back tears. “Not human,” you breathe. A piece of you breaks with the admission.

He huffs a little laugh against your skin and pulls back to look you in the eye. “That’s good,” he purrs. “But I think you can be a little more specific, no?” His lips press to your chin, then the corner of your mouth, then down to your jaw… “Tell me.” 

Your lips wobble, muscles clenching tighter with each passing moment. You don’t want to say it, don’t want to speak it into existence, but you also don’t dare to disobey him. 

“You’re a…” You shake and tremble. He draws a line up your neck with the tip of his nose.

“Mhm?” 

You open your eyes, thinking this might be the last time you see. “Vampire.” 

He chuckles and you feel his teeth press to the skin of your neck. “That’s right, princess. So smart.” 

He smiles and you suddenly realize you’ve never seen his teeth before. Everytime he smiles at you it’s close-lipped and dimpled. But this… this is the smile of a predator– all white and pointy and fitted with a set of menacingly long fangs. You sob at the sight. 

“Shhhhh,” he coos. He has your chin in his hand, forcing you to truly look at him, to see him for what he is. “I won’t hurt you, love.” You want to believe him so badly it burns, but his laugh washes away any fire and turns it to ice. “Not unless you want me to.” He wiggles a brow like it’s just a little joke, like he’s not an actual fucking vampire that had his fangs over your neck just moments ago. 

“Satoru,” you beg. You’re not sure what you’re begging for. Release maybe? But, no, that’s not right. You don’t want him to let you go, not when you finally have him close after all this time. “Why did you pick me?” 

The question slips out. You hadn’t even been thinking about it, hadn’t even noticed it scratching at the walls of your mind, but it made its way out nonetheless.

His brow creases, but not in confusion. Moreso in… thoughtfulness. “Do you think about that a lot, princess?” 

You nod and you suddenly want him closer, want him to touch you everywhere, hold you like his life depends on it. You want him, no matter how horrible it might be. 

He nods and hums, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “Well…” he says. His thumb swipes over your lips when he leans in to whisper in your ear. “At first I wanted you for this.” His head dips to your neck again and you feel the familiar brush of his lips against your throat. “You smell…” he chuckles. “Like heaven. Which is a place I’ll never get to on my own, so I had to bring my own little slice home, no?” He laughs again, a little louder this time, genuinely amused. “Went into town one day and caught your scent on the street. At first I thought I must be walking past the bakery, but, lo and behold, there was no baker in sight.” He’s still kissing at your pulse, worshiping it. “Went crazy, princess. Didn’t think I was going to be able to contain myself when I found you. Thought it might be quite the scene.” He huffs a laugh and you shiver, somehow both terrified and intoxicated. “But then I saw you–” he groans and something clenches deep at your center. “And I knew I needed more than just your blood. Needed you.” He’s rocking into you now, and your breath catches when you feel something firm against your backside. “Went to you in that little room you slept in every night. Watched you. Couldn’t stay away. Knew I had to have you.” You feel him smile against your skin. “After a week I couldn’t take it anymore. Sent you that letter, married you. Made you mine.” He groans again. “Then I met you and you were so pretty, princess. Already knew it, but hearin’ you talk to me, look at me.” Teeth graze your pulse. “Needed you more than ever. Almost took you right on the fucking floor in here while you were lookin’ at those dresses.” You whine when his hips roll into you again. “Oh, but I knew I couldn’t. You’re so fragile, love. Had to wait, had to make you feel safe, yeah? Spent all this time forcing myself to stay away, ‘fraid of what I might too if I was in your presence too long. Had to control myself. Had to make you realize you could trust me.” He panting, like he’s so pent up he can hardly sit still. “Do you trust me, princess?” 

Your brows scrunch. Say no, say no, say no a part of you screams. Run, run, run. You can’t. “Yes,” you breathe. 

You feel him smile again, feel the pleasure of submission. “Good girl.” 

You’re on your back. It happens so fast your eyes don’t even have time to gasp. You don’t see Satoru, but you feel him. Everywhere. His hands are roaming your body softly, sliding under buttons and laces and popping them off. Your dress loosens with every passing moment until Satoru reappears above you, diving straight for your neck again. “So good, princess. Let’s get you out of this dress, yeah?” 

You nod wordlessly, entranced. He finds your mouth as he rids you of your clothes. His tongue presses in and you flail against him, unsure of what to do, of how to handle the intrusion. The kiss is heavy, too heavy, but Satoru can’t seem to stop. He devours you as he gives up on laces and buttons and simply shreds your dress down the back. You tremble when the cold air hits your skin, when his cool fingers dust your collarbone. 

“I always forget how many damn layers they make you ladies wear,” he chuckles. His hands run beneath your shift, up across your bare thigh. You gasp at the touch. No one has even been so close to you before. You feel the threads of your corset snapping away, feel your breaths growing deeper. You tremble when he pulls your sleeve down past your shoulder and runs his mouth along the newly exposed skin. 

“Satoru,” you gasp, and your hand pulls at his flowing white shirt. 

He chuckles, pulling back just enough to see your face. “You wanna see me too?” You nod, lips parted and eyes glassy, and he laughs again. He lips dust over the corner of your mouth. “Alright.” 

His hands shift from you to himself, working at the laces on his chest. His movements are speedy, practiced, like he’s been lacing and unlacing shirts for hundreds of years. Your throat tightens when you realize that he has. 

You gasp when he reveals himself, when his shirt slides away to reveal an expanse of pale skin and carved muscle. You’ve never seen a man like this and seeing one this close up for the first time is nearly blinding. He’s art, you think- nothing less. 

“Touch me, princess,” he says. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He’s too beautiful, too perfect to be beneath your insignificant hands. “Need a little help?” he asks, and there’s a lilt in his voice that makes you sure he’s grinning. 

His hands find yours and bring them to his chest, running your palms over his collarbones, his pecs, down, down, down across his abs that you can feel each and every one… You whimper, watching your own fingers grope his skin. He pulls you lower, lower, lower, and you gasp when your fingertips brush the waistband of his pants. But then he’s laughing again and he’s throwing your arms over his shoulders and pulling you closer, kissing your neck like it pained him to be parted from your pulse for so long. 

“Not so fast,” he says, like he wasn’t the one nearly stuffing your hands down his pants. His hands are on your corset again. You can feel it dangling onto you by a thread, literally. All he needs is a couple more pulls and you’ll be bare. By the look he gives you, you can tell he’s 

thinking the same thing. “You touch me, now I touch you, yeah?” There’s a tug and a tear and then so much… cold. You’ve never realized how cold this castle is, not until you’re exposed to its elements fully. You’re naked. 

Satoru sits back on his knees and just watches. His gaze is searing, burning, despite the iciness of his being. It’s too much. Your hands move to cover yourself, to maintain some modicum of your dignity- 

“No.” Strong hands find your wrists and pry them apart. “Let me see you,” he says. His tongue darts out to lick his lips. 

Your jaw clenches and your frame shakes, but you do as he asks, letting your hands fall limply at your sides. There’s silence for many more moments and it seems to go on so long that you can only squeeze your eyes shut under his gaze. Surely he will turn you away now, get up and leave, tell you this was a mistake, tell you that you’re– 

“Beautiful,” he breathes. Your eyes snap open to find him already staring at you. “Beautiful,” he says again, and then he’s on you, lips at your pulse, hands on your skin. His touch is cool and you squeak at the chill that runs up your spine. You’re not sure it’s entirely from his temperature. 

His mouth seeks yours and he devours you. You feel as if he’s sucking your soul out through your lips. “Tell me you’ve never done this before,” he begs. “Tell me I’m the first to touch you.” 

You whine against his mouth, both aching for more and overwhelmed by what he’s already giving you. “Y-You’re the first,” you whisper. 

His groan is deep, primal. It rattles through your chest and you whimper when his hands dig into your waist hard enough to bruise. “Yes,” he breathes, and you shiver again. “Lie back, princess.” Your eyes widen, with anticipation or fear you’re not sure. Probably both. He chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.” 

You pray he means that. “Just relax, love. Here, hold my hand.” His fingers find yours, twining them together. When you swallow, his eyes follow the bob of your throat. He leans back again and your body twitches when his free hand skims the skin of your thighs. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he finds your knees and you gasp when he parts your legs, revealing you so completely to his gaze. The way he stares, like he’s committing you to memory, it’s nearly enough to make you snap your thighs shut, but a squeeze from his hand reminds you to relax, to trust. 

His palm skates up your thigh and settles near your hip, his fingertips inching closer to where you can feel an embarrassing throb. 

“Tell me, love. Have you ever touched yourself here?” His fingers dust low on your tummy- just low enough for you to catch his meaning, but not low enough to give you any relief. Your face heats and your teeth dig into the flesh of your cheek. You have, you have touched yourself there, but it’s the last thing you want to admit to your new husband. It’s shameful, it’s dirty, it’s- “Don’t think I’ll judge you, princess. Just wanna know.” 

You gulp down a breath. You should come clean. “Y-yes,” you stutter, and the sound of your voice so weak and helpless only makes you flush further. 

He chuckles and squeezes your hand again. “On the outside or the inside?” 

Your eyes widen. I-inside? You’d never considered that… “J-just the outside,” you answer. 

Your eyes grow even wider when his head rolls back and he moans straight up to the ceiling like your answer is heaven-sent. When he looks back to you his fangs are on full display. “Well, I think you and I are in for a little treat today, hm?” 

Your brow furrows and your lips part to ask him what he means– his fingers travel those last few inches down your tummy and find your clit. You squeak and jolt so violently that he presses a hand to your hip, holding you to the mattress. “Somebody’s sensitive,” he chuckles. He holds you still for a moment and then lets your hips go free. “Try to stay still. I promise it’ll feel good.”

You nod hopelessly, but this time you’re prepared for when he touches you again. Your muscles clench at the first touch, at the foreign sensation of a touch down there that wasn’t your own. But then it’s more. It’s languid, slow circles around a spot that you’ve never been able to pinpoint so well on your own. It’s heat building in your tummy that seeps through every vein and into every pore. It’s relaxation that you’ve never known, that has you melting into the mattress despite the chill of the touch. 

There’s a little huff of a laugh and then his voice. “Good girl. Feels nice, yeah?” You nod hesitantly and squeeze desperately at his hand, searching for an anchor. His head cocks to the side and you watch the smile slide across his lips. “It’s about to feel even nicer.” 

By the time you realize what he’s doing it’s far too late to stop him. His mouth closes around your cunt and you yelp, trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation- but he’s got his freehand on your hip again and his grip is bruising, punishing, as he holds you in place. He licks a stripe through your folds and you find yourself jolting again, uselessly so against the pressure of his palm on your hip. “Stop that, princess.” Your heart drops at the admonishment until you feel his guiding touch. “Rock into me like this.” His hand rocks your hips into his mouth and the pressure of his tongue against your clit is so delicious that you whimper. “Good girl,” he says and your heart rises right back up. “Keep doing that, now.” You don’t dare defy him. You rock like he showed you, a little jerkily at first, and then you find a rhythm that has you seeing stars. “That’s it, love,” he says, and the sound is muffled against your cunt. “Here, put your hand in my hair.” He finds your wrist and guides you forward until your fingers are tangling in those snowy locks. They’re even softer than you’d imagined. “Good girl,” he whispers and suddenly he’s taking one last long lick and lifting his head to meet your eyes. “‘M gonna put my fingers in you now, princess.” Your chin wobbles. “It might hurt a little bit, but stay still, okay?” You can’t do anything but nod. 

His eyes return to your cunt and you can feel him prodding at your entrance, circling the hole as you clench in anticipation. “Relaaaaaax, love,” he says and you nod. A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth– 

You feel the exact moment he pushes into you and a whine of pain rips from your throat. Your walls clamp down like a vice, angry at the intrusion– but it’s already too late. There’s a beat of silence, of anticipation, and then he’s– laughing? 

Your brows furrow when you hear it, your head lifting to a sight that locks your limbs in shock. Satoru’s hand is lifted in front of his face, his pointer finger coated in– blood, you realize. Your blood. And he’s a fucking vampire. 

“Oh princess,” he coos, and the manic look in his eyes makes you tremble. “You really are perfect.” 

Things seem to slow as you watch him take his blood covered finger into his mouth. You’re sure you’ve never seen an expression more blissful, more lost to sensation. His eyes roll back and his body shivers, like he’s ascending to some higher plane. Maybe he is. 

When he pulls his finger from his mouth it’s completely licked clean. You hold your breath. He’s going to go for your neck now, right? He’s had a taste and now he’ll want more of it, all of it?

“Fuck,” is all he says. His mouth is back on your cunt so fast you don’t even see him move. 

Your mouth falls wide. It hurts, the way he is so desperately licking at you. You feel his finger again, pressing in, in, in, only to pull back and suddenly be joined by another. The stretch tears at you. You thrash and jolt, but Satoru doesn’t bother telling you to stop this time. His arm wraps over your hips, holding you in place. He seems immune to how hard your legs squeeze at his head or your hands pull at his hair. He’s lost. You can feel him licking, lapping, and prodding at you like you’re a fucking gold mine. He’s lost to desperation, to the need for more, more, more. Every so often he lifts his chin and you see his mouth smudged with a mixture of your wetness and your blood. He laps at his lips like an animal, dragging his thumb across his chin and sliding it into his mouth to make sure he gets every last drop. 

You’re not quite sure when the ravenous pain turns to a ravenous pleasure, when it turns from terrifying to downright delicious. You don’t notice your moans filling the air until Satoru joins you, groaning and whining into your cunt and telling you to keep going, to keep making those sounds. The hand you have buried in his hair doesn’t fight to push him away any longer, only to pull him into those now practiced rocks of your hips. His fingers thrust deep, curling into a spot that makes you feel so good and his mouth has found your clit again. He sucks your nerves lightly between his lips, tongue swirling in little circles. Your thighs start to shake. 

“Yes. Yes. Give it to me.” 

“S-Satoru–” you breathe. Warmth and tightness pool in your tummy, and you recognize it as your approaching orgasm, though you know this one will be far different than any you’ve ever managed to give yourself. Your body shakes and your breaths tremble and then– you fall over the edge, rocking your hips senselessly, losing all form of rhythm. Warmth tingles in your spine and seeps all the way down to your toes. You think you cry out, cry for your husband, cry for more, cry for less, but if you do you don’t hear it. All you hear is the pounding of your pulse, of pleasure throbbing in your veins until the world slowly seeps back in through the corners of your vision. 

Satoru is grinning. A speck of your blood clings to his chin and his fangs peek out from behind his lips. The sight makes your blood run a little colder. If any part of you doubted what he was before… well, there was no doubt any longer. 

There’s a shift between your legs, his hips slotting between them, and you’re suddenly snapped back to reality. From the look in his eyes, you’re not done. 

Frantic hands find his pants and he undoes each button with a quickness that is almost inhuman. You wonder if he could go even faster, if he’s holding back so as not to scare you. If he is, it isn’t working very well. Fear surges in your veins right alongside anticipation. 

“S-Satoru–”

“It’s alright, love.” His hand finds yours without his eyes ever looking up. His grip is just a little too firm, a little too cold. “Just stay still.” 

You whimper, but you don’t think he’s paying attention to that, and soon enough, neither are you. His pants slide down just past his hips, just enough. You gasp. 

You’ve never seen a man in the nude, never even dared to think about what it might look like, though it seemed you no longer had to guess. His hand wrapped around his shaft, giving one long and slow stroke that made his breath hiss through his fangs. The tip was flushed, angry, and leaking something that looked clear and sticky. You couldn’t help but notice it was a lot thicker than a finger, or even two. If his fingers had hurt…

He moves with that alarming quickness again, leaning down to hover over you, chests nearly pressed together. “Gonna take you now, princess. Gonna make you mine.” His eyes bore into yours, blue and shimmering with something wild. His hand presses into the mattress beside your head. “Stay still, now.”

It’s all the warning he gives you. You feel like you’re splitting– straight up the middle. You wail, hands flying out to claw at his back. It hurts. It hurts. 

“Satoru, p-please! It’s–” 

Lips catch yours– hungry, feral. The kiss is not gentle, not soothing. It shuts you up, it keeps you quiet, it keeps you still as you feel him sinking further, deeper into you. It’s too much, you try to say, but the poke of sharp teeth against your lips keeps you silent. Your hips jolt and wiggle trying desperately to escape the stretch but it’s no use. By the time he’s fully inside you, tears are streaking down your cheeks, fat and heavy. His lips break away and his eyes reappear. You shake when you see that none of the wildness has been tamed, that you’ve only just begun.

“Good girl,” he coos, and a cool finger traces a line across your jaw. “Took me so well.” You hold back a sob when his hips shift a little, testing, prodding. He must see the pinch of your eyes, the twist of your mouth, because he’s quick to comfort. “Just hold my hand, princess.” His hips rock in earnest this time and you whimper, squeezing down on his hand with all your might. You’re panting as he chuckles. “Breathe, love. Breathe. Soon you’ll be begging for more,” he laughs. It’s not long before he’s rocking into you sincerely, setting a pace that stretches you to the brink of breaking. At first it’s all you can do to grasp onto him, to bite your lips through the whimpers and hold his hand. And then it’s… more. It’s heat and warmth despite the coolness of his body on yours. It’s sensation and… pleasure. He laughs when the first moan slides past your lips, burying his face in your neck once again. You hear him at your ear, panting his hot breath across your skin. 

“Feel good, princess?” You nod, letting your hips rock against his as he showed you before. It feels good– it feels right. He chuckles, but there’s nothing light about the sound. “Wanna feel even better?” Something sharp pokes at the skin of your neck, hard enough to make you squeak, to make you freeze at what you know he wants. 

He pulls himself back, pressing his forehead to yours, searching your eyes with his. Something like a cruel smile dances on his mouth. “Just a taste, love. I promise it won’ hurt.” His tongue darts out and licks across your lips, his thrusts rocking just a bit faster. “You’ll feel s’ good an’ I’ll only take a little.” He laughs again and it sends a chill through your bones. “Promise.” He sounds breathless, like he’s struggling to restrain himself. The increase of his pace makes you whine and you squeeze his hand again. He buries himself back in your neck, panting. “Come on, love. Say yes. Say yes f’ me.” Your eyes glaze over. Your body justles with each new thrust. He’s desperate now, seeking a release that you don’t think is any kind you’re familiar with. “Yes, yes, yes,” he chants in your ear. You’re not sure when his words twist in your mind, when they settle on your tongue and push past your lips, but you know it feels so right when they do. 

“Yes,” you whisper. 

His fangs clamp around your pulse. You scream when the sting rips through you, violent and savage– but it only lasts a moment. Pain fades to… ecstasy. You feel his throat bobbing with each swallow, feel your blood seeping from your skin and onto his tongue. You’d thought it would feel slicing, draining, like the life was being sucked from you. It doesn’t. It feels wonderful. Heat spreads under your skin, emanating from your neck and down to your toes. It feels like breathing for the first time, like sugar being pumped into your veins. It feels like heaven. Your hand tangles in his hair, holding him close. You don’t want it to stop, not ever. You could die like this, have him suck every last drop of blood from your veins and thank him for it with your dying breath. 

He’s moaning now, hands curling into your hips while he fucks into you relentlessly. The pace is grueling and brutal. You know it should hurt but only feels perfect. Anything less would not be enough. Anything else would leave you wanting. You feel it building, feel that familiar twinge at your core. The ecstasy flooding through your veins has it coming faster, has you teetering on the edge in moments. 

“Satoru…” You hadn’t noticed how dizzy you felt until you tried to speak. You wonder why… “‘M gonna…” 

He fucks you harder, something menacing and deep rumbling in his chest. The sound makes you shiver, makes you whine, makes you come. 

Your body shakes and a cry rips from your throat, cunt clenching like a vice around him. Your eyes roll back, hands scraping trails down his back. Your thighs quake with the intensity, with the overwhelming senses of pleasure that erupt throughout your body. Every nerve is firing, every hair rising. It’s an unstoppable current, one that sweeps you away, helpless to its pull. 

His thrusts grow sloppy and untimed. His grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place while he makes you his. His teeth break from your neck and when you look up through blurry eyes you see his head thrown back, your blood streaming down his chin in thick little globs. You feel it when he cums, feel the thick ropes of it seeping into your womb, feel the way he keeps fucking you, pushing it deeper and deeper inside. He’s moaning, chanting your name like a prayer at the heavens. 

When the moment ends he slumps over you, eyes half lidded and tired. There’s a familiar grin on his lips, one that inspires both comfort and uneasiness in your gut. You can’t help but stare at him, at the blood that stains his chin and cheeks, that reddens his lips so beautifully. You want to reach out and touch him, touch his blood-soaked skin and see what it feels like, what it tastes like. What you taste like. 

His eyes slide to the side, finding your pulse again. You groan. Yes, you think. Please, yes. More. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of that. Of his teeth in your flesh, of the euphoria flooding your veins. More, more, more, your mind chants. 

He chuckles lightly and shakes his head. “No, princess.” He raises a finger to trace the curve of your neck. “I took more than I should have…” His expression doesn’t tense with worry. His cheeks pull into a smile, those little dimples shining through. “But what can I say? You just taste so good.” Like he needs to emphasize his point, his tongue darts out to trace his lips, lapping up some of the remaining blood on his chin. “You taste like mine.”

You whine. More, more, more. It’s all you can think about. You lift an arm weakly. You want to pull him to your neck, to make him drink, to make him fill you with the heaven you had just moments ago. 

He catches your wrist and brings it to his lips, inhaling deeply. His lips split into another grin and you see his eyes spark again with the wildness you crave. 

“Not yet, princess.” he coos. “But soon.” His smile grows even wider, until those fangs are on full display, until you’re trembling again. “Forever,” he whispers.

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[quack-quack-snacks]

Floating Above Those Dark Skies

My Navigation and Masterlist

My Sweet Home Masterlist

My Cha Hyun-su Masterlist

Pairing(s): Cha Hyun-su x Fem!Reader Summary: Living with the love of your life and the girl you love like a daughter is perfect. Except for all the bad parts. Warnings: Season 2 spoilers! Follows the dialogue of the episodes relatively strictly (I know some people like that but some people don't so it's a warning), Reader being like a second mother to Ah-yi, Hyun-su being a great big brother/father figure, slight talk of previous suicide attempts (The National Suicide and Crisis Hotline is 988. There are so many people who care about you and would love to help you. You are not alone), injuries, underage drinking (but they're in the apocalypse so who cares), canonical death, hurt with comfort, the appearance of (soft and kinda ooc) monster!Hyun-su, no use of (y/n), reader has the nickname "Lucky". Word Count: 17,132 (wow, what a doozy)

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Hyun-su led the way as you all walked to his home. Halfway there, Ah-yi complained about her feet hurting and it was then you noticed she had been barefoot this entire time. 

‘We definitely need to fix that,’ you thought. 

Before Hyun-su could even open his mouth, you crouched down and extended your hands out to her. She rushed forward to jump into your arms with a tired smile. When you straightened back up, she rested her head against your shoulder and was out like a light within a few minutes. 

“She seems to like you a lot,” Hyun-su whispered fondly as a gentle smile laid itself on his lips. After making sure she was secure in your arms, you smiled back at him and dropped one hand from holding her to hold his hand. 

“I guess I’m just a toddler whisperer. I think she likes me better than you,” you joked and he let out a scoff while squeezing your hand.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever,” he told you in an offended tone you could tell was fake by the smile threatening to break his facade. 

After a few minutes of comfortable silence as you walked, you asked the question that had been burning in your mind since you saw him again with the girl in your arms. “So… who is she?” 

He let out a heavy sigh before pushing a tree branch out of the way for you to walk through since your hands were full. 

Always the gentleman.

“She’s Seo Yi-kyung’s baby.”

You let out a quiet gasp. “What? But she hadn’t even been pregnant for half a year? And this is at least a 4-year-old child!” You whisper shouted at him, completely shocked by the information. 

“I don’t fully understand it either, but I do know she’s hers,” he assured you and you let out a sigh, your eyes wide as you tried to process the information. 

“So, is she a monster-human mix as well? Is she like you?” You asked. You hadn’t noticed the way Hyun-su snapped his head towards you because you were too focused on the girl in your arm, letting out small breaths that tickled your neck. The way you said the sentence was so unlike anything he had heard before - especially relating to talking about monsters and neohumans. You sounded so soft, not an ounce of judgment or resentment in your voice. You sounded like no matter what the answer was you wouldn’t treat her any differently. You would adore her just as much as you were in that moment with your face buried in her hair as she let out quiet snores in her sleep. He gave a soft smile at the thought. 

“I think so. She's grown so much since I first met her. Her actual age is around 5 or 6 months.”

“Wow,” you breathed and he couldn’t help but marvel at the way your voice embodied adoration and your smile was so bright it set the sky on fire despite the sun falling over the horizon. “That’s… wow.”

The rest of the walk was spent in silence. At some point, Hyun-su’s hand moved from holding yours to circling your waist as you hugged Ah-yi to your chest protectively. Eventually, the three of you arrived at a dock where a large boat was parked. 

 You weren’t all too surprised to find he had lived on a boat for the past half-year but you couldn’t help the small part that didn’t believe him when he told you. 

He hopped up onto the boat first before helping you, careful not to wake Ah-yi. After the two of you were safely atop the boat, he led you to the captain’s quarters and helped you lay the girl in your arms down onto the nest of blankets and sweaters assembled to make a bed. Her dress had dried surprisingly quickly on the way to the boat, the only thing left to be damp was her hair.

 You weren’t so lucky.

Your clothes stuck to your skin uncomfortably but you refused to complain, giving a - hopefully convincing - smile to Hyun-su when he saw you detach your shirt from your chest with a grimace. He walked away for a few moments and you sat down at the entrance to the captain’s quarters, resting your head against the door frame until his soft footsteps brought your attention back to him. He stood in front of you with a pair of folded clothes in his hands. 

“I have these if you want to change into some fresh clothes. I don’t have any towels but this might help.”

The hesitant and shy look on his face made a smile break out on your own. You gave him a nod and took the clothes from his hands. You didn’t comment on how they were exactly your size but it made your heart flutter. 

“Thank you,” you told him genuinely.

He nodded back at you before pointing to a door inside the quarters. “In there is a bathroom for whenever you want to change. I’ll wait for you out here.”

You nodded and turned before the smitten smile overcame your face stupidly at the thought. He just said he would wait for you and you could feel your heartbeat quickening alarmingly while heat rose to your cheeks. You walked into the bathroom and looked at yourself in the mirror. It was kind of scary. You hadn’t seen your reflection in a few months, never venturing into any areas with cars and rarely going near water. All the mirrors in the women's locker room back at the stadium had been broken after a monster outbreak and the monster breaking all of them because she was ‘too ugly.’ 

You honestly almost forgot what you looked like, but you were beautiful. You had always thought of yourself as a relatively attractive person but never the kind that would make someone turn their head. Now, you found yourself unable to look away. Your skin was glowing, whether that be from the sweat collecting from the walk or the water, you didn’t know. Any blood that had collected on you over the past few weeks had been rinsed off in the lake and you relished in the feeling of being clean of it for once, despite how the stickiness of the wet clothes you were still wearing still made you feel a bit dirty.

Snapping out of your amazement, you quickly took your old clothes off, replacing them with the ones Hyun-su had given you. It was a simple pair of dark gray sweatpants and a maroon short-sleeved shirt. You took off your unbearably uncomfortable socks and replaced them with the soft wool socks he provided as well. Now dry, you exited the bathroom to see Hyun-su had stuck to his word and was waiting for you as he leaned against the door frame of the room, though this time in a different, dryer outfit. 

“Hey,” you said softly to get his attention. He looked over at you and smiled when he saw you all dressed and dryer than before. 

“Hey,” he whispered back. He held his hands out for you to give him your wet clothes and you did reluctantly. He walked over to the edge of the boat and laid them over the edge so they could dry before returning to you. “Well, you should get some sleep.”

As if his words were magic, you suddenly felt the events of the day hit you like a truck and you yawned, nodding your agreement. “I think that’s a good idea.”

You gave a quick look around the room before deciding to sleep next to Ah-yi with your head using a part of her ‘bed’ as a pillow.

Hyun-su winced as he saw you settle against the hard floor of the boat and walked forward without thinking. He gently grabbed your shoulders, lifting you and then settling you against his chest while you sat in between his legs. 

You blushed but said nothing as you settled with your cheek pressed against his chest, his heartbeat echoing against your ear and calming your nerves.

“Sleep,” he told you and tightened his grip around you. “I’ll keep watch.”

Your tongue felt heavy with sleep as you spoke your next words with a slight slur. “But what about you?”

He let out a soft laugh as he heard your breathing even out almost immediately after your sentence ended. He let his head rest against the wall behind him as he kept his gaze on the door.

“I’ll be okay,” he whispered as he briefly looked down at your peaceful sleeping face. “As long as you’re here with me…”

“Lucky.”

~A Week Into The Apocalypse, In Green Home~

It had been a week since the apocalypse started, and you had barely seen Hyun-su. The way the other residents and survivors treated him caused you to be so angry. You were thankful that at least one person - Eun-yu - didn’t treat him like a monster. 

She wasn’t much different though, considering she still avoided him most of the time. 

It was after the reappearance of Yi-kyung and the failed mission to retrieve medicine for Ji-su and her surgery that you got the chance to talk to him for more than just a quick goodbye or hello. 

“All alone?” You asked him as you approached the staircase. The candle in your hands burned a bright yellow and smelled of cinnamon sugar. His head looked up at where you were approaching and nodded as you settled yourself on the stairs with him. Although he appreciated you trying to give him space and sitting a short distance away, he couldn’t help but wish you were closer. You smiled at him and smoothed your hands along your pants when you were seated. 

“Are you scared?” 

The question through you off guard. Giving a quick look around the room, you didn’t see anything that you would consider to be a threat so you weren’t really sure what he was talking about. 

“Of what?” You asked, tilting your head in confusion at the boy. 

He mirrored your head tilt with a confused look of his own. Inwardly you laughed at how the two of you must look like confused dogs when their owners told them a command they didn’t understand. 

“Of… me?” He questioned again and a small laugh left you when you finally realized. 

“Oh, Hyun-su,” you reached over to gently grab his hand as you looked him deeply in the eyes. “I promise you I could never be scared of you.”

He looked down with a small smile at that and you could see the small hints of red on his ears and cheeks. 

“So, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” you started and gently released his hand. He immediately felt cold at the lack of your added warmth. “I never tried because I wasn’t sure if you even wanted to talk to me, but is there a reason why you never came by? Even after you were given a choice to leave the quarantining room?”

He paused as he thought for a moment. “I thought you didn’t want to see me. You were the only person not put on guard duty so I figured it was because you asked not to.”

You let out a sad sigh. “Shit, I’m sorry. I promise that’s not what happened.”

He looked up at you with sad, confused little puppy eyes. “It’s not?” 

You shook your head. “The first, and only, time I was put on guard duty, I tried breaking the lock on the door,” you told him and looked away sheepishly. 

“Really?” He asked after a moment of stunned silence. 

You nodded in assurance. “After that, Eun-hyuk tried to do whatever he could to keep me as far away from you as possible. I was hoping that would change since you got out but now I know why it didn’t,” you smiled at him sweetly and he felt the heat rise to his cheeks so he looked away. “You know,” you continued. “I always saw you stop by my door right before you would leave, but you never said anything. Was that also because you thought I didn’t want to talk to you?”

“Partially. It was mainly so I could just see you before I left. Every time I thought I was going to die I thought about returning so I could at least try to fix whatever was happening,” he told you. Now he was the one who looked sheepish as he scratched the back of his neck. “I always backed out at the last minute though.”

You smiled and scooted closer to him on the stairs, moving down so you were on the same level and making it so only half a foot of space separated you. “I guess I was like your lucky charm then, wasn’t I?” You teased and lightly bumped your shoulder against his. 

“Yeah, I guess you were.”

~Back To The Present~

It had been about a month since you reunited with Hyun-su. You’d grown closer to Ah-yi in no time. She looked up to you and it seemed she just needed another girl in her life to have around. Your favorite part about growing closer to her was she had upgraded your honorific from ‘Miss’ to ‘Unni’ which made your heart clench adoringly every time.

The first time Hyun-su decided to make a trip into the city to collect some supplies, he was so hesitant to leave the two of you alone. You promised you would protect Ah-yi and yourself with whatever it takes; that seemed to be enough for him to be comfortable enough to leave. He never lost his hesitancy to leave the two of you alone despite each time he came back the two of you would be fine.

The most recent time was no different. You sat on top of a large, red, metal shipping container with Ah-yi as the two of you drew using the chalk you were fortunate enough to find a few days ago.

“That looks beautiful, Ah-yi! You are such a good artist,” you praised her on her drawing and she visibly beamed. It was a simple drawing of some flowers and her, you, and Hyun-su. It was clear it was made by a child but it was so beautiful in your eyes. 

“Thank you, Unni!” You ruffled her hair which she squealed at until you noticed Hyun-su walking towards the two of you with a smile on his face and a hand hiding behind his back while the other supported a red bag over his shoulder. “Oppa!” Ah-yi exclaimed and you smiled at her excitement. 

He rounded the corner of the large container and brought the hand hiding behind his back out to place a pair of pink shoes on the top. Ah-yi gasped while you had a big smile on your face. 

“Come on!” You urged her and she sat on the edge of the box so Hyun-su could slip the shoes onto her feet with the cutest smile ever on his face. Once the shoes were on, he held his hands out for her and she eagerly jumped down, having full faith that he wouldn’t drop her. Once he set her down, he reached his hands out for you to take and you gave him a funny look. 

“What’s wrong, Lucky?” He voiced his thoughts with a confused tilt of his head. You rolled your eyes at him while smiling. Your heart fluttered at the nickname. He’d started calling you it more often since the two of you reunited and yet it still gave you butterflies.  

“I’m okay, I can get down by myself,” you reassured him and turned around while you slowly lowered yourself from the canister, your front facing the metal. 

You heard Hyun-su softly breathe out a laugh from behind you before a hand grabbed onto the back of your shirt and pulled. You let out a yelp as you felt yourself falling only to land bridal style in Hyun-su’s arms. You clicked your tongue in faux annoyance and crossed your arms while he tried to hide the smug smile on his lips. 

“Going full ‘knight in shining armor’ mode, are we now?” You teased him and he blushed, pointedly avoiding your gaze. Suddenly, your stomach dipped as you felt him pretend to drop you and your arms wrapped themselves around his neck while he looked at you with another self-satisfied smirk.

“Well, it looks like my ‘princess’ needs her ‘knight in shining armor,’” he said softly as he looked away from you and you slapped his chest. He kneeled down when Ah-yi ran up to him. Knowing exactly what he was offering, she used one of his extended hands along with yours to help prop herself onto his shoulders. Hyun-su regained his grip on you as he grabbed the red bag he had set down and stood back up to his full height before starting the walk in the direction of the boat. You rolled your eyes, knowing any protests about him carrying you would be brushed off. Instead, you just snatched the red bag from his hand, placing it on your lap and holding it tightly to your body as you gave him a challenging glare. He just rolled his eyes with a fond smile and continued walking. 

The three of you made small talk as he carried you. Ah-yi explained what you and her had done while Hyun-su was venturing off and you chimed in every now and then with a comment. Hyun-su explained how he saw a peculiar monster today.

“It was like a mermaid with wings.”

Then, you both went on to explain what a mermaid was to the child. 

When you arrived at the boat, Hyun-su set the both of you down and Ah-yi started pulling you to the edge of the boat. You laughed as you walked up to the contraption. It was during your first week that you made the efficient self-fishing machine. It was a relatively simple mechanism that was made of a bunch of fishing poles and a homemade weight sensor. Whenever one of the poles was tugged on by something in the water, the device yanked it up and whatever was attached to the hook was left dangling in the air. 7 times out of 10, the hook was caught on litter in the ocean or a monster that was able to detach itself but there were the 3 times where you would catch a fish or two and the three of you would share it for dinner. 

It became a bit of a game for Ah-yi and yourself, guessing if the day would end with a fresh meal or a degrading empty can with barnacles growing on the side. 

As Hyun-su smiled at the two of you, he walked over to the stairs leading to the roof of the captain’s quarters and sat on the top, watching the sunset. No matter how many times you invited him to join the two of you, he always refused. It was nice you had a special activity to bond with Ah-yi over and he used that as his excuse every time.

It wasn’t even 10 minutes later as you were skinning the rare fish you’d caught with Ah-yi watching attentively as you explained the different anatomy parts to her that Hyun-su noticed a familiar face climbing the steps of the boat. He climbed down and started walking over to her while the two of you stayed distracted. You only looked over and noticed the two when you heard their footsteps. You carefully set down the knife and fish, wiping your hands on a stray towel beside you, and stood up to walk over beside Hyun-su. Ah-yi followed up behind you, grabbing onto the back of your shirt shyly. 

“I came too late, didn’t I?” Yi-kyung asked from in front of you as she looked at the girl shyly standing behind you. You decided not to answer considering you still weren’t sure how you felt about the whole situation of her leaving her child. Instead, Hyun-su answered her question.

“Not at all. You’re here now, right?”

She looked down and you could see the guilt and regret on her face. Slowly, you turned around to face Ah-yi. “That’s your mommy,” you told her and she looked at her hands shyly. “Why don’t you say hi.”

You lightly pushed her in the direction of Yi-kyung and the woman kneeled so she was face to face with her.

“Hi there,” you heard her whisper to the girl while you stood up to your full height. You wrapped your arms around Hyun-su’s waist and leaned into him while you watched them interact. Yi-kyung brought her into a hug and you smiled at the relief that settled on her face. 

Over the next few months, you and Hyun-su traveled through the city together, occasionally going back to visit Yi-kyung and Ah-yi but mainly wanting to give them the privacy a mother and daughter should have. It was adorable to come back and see the markings on the wall increase where Yi-kyung marked her daughter’s growth every day. Everything seemed to be going perfectly for the family of two.

Up until that day.

You had an awful feeling in the pit of your stomach for the entire day, feeling as if something bad was going to happen and you needed to get back to the two girls on the boat. When you shared your feelings with Hyun-su, he didn’t question it for a second, immediately going with you to rush back. 

When you arrived at the boat, you found a teenage girl covered in blood wearing the same dress as the little girl you’d grown to love while sitting on the bed blankets and jackets. You walked slowly towards her and she snapped her head up when she saw your feet enter her vision from where she had her head hung low. You kneeled in front of her, tentatively reaching a hand out to hold her cheek and she leaned into it.

Just like Ah-yi always did.

You let out a shaky breath as you finally voiced the question. 

“Ah-yi?”

She nodded, her eyes filled with fear.

Fear of resentment.

Fear of abandonment.

Fear of your fear. 

You just let out a sigh, whether it was from relief or surprise, you didn’t know. What you did know was that this was your Ah-yi and you would love her no matter what form she would take. You wrapped your arms around her and brought her in for a hug which she returned immediately. Relief coursed through her body so evidently that you could practically hear it. 

“It’s okay. Everything’s okay,” you dispelled her fears, bringing her closer and rocking her as she cried into your shoulder and told you what happened. You smoothed down her bloodied hair, not caring about how she was staining your clothes with the blood coating her. 

Once she calmed down a bit more, you gathered a rag from the bathroom.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” You promised her and she nodded. You turned and left, closing the door behind you and giving her a playful wink through the window which she giggled quietly at. Hyun-su followed you as you walked down the stairs of the boat and to the edge of the water. As you kneeled down to dip the rag into the lake's water, you started asking the questions on your mind about what Ah-yi told you happened.

“How did they even find this place? How did they find out about her being mixed?” You asked Hyun-su. His lips twitched into a small smile when he heard you refer to her as ‘mixed.’ He remembers you telling him the reasoning behind it like it was yesterday.

“I don’t like the word ‘monster.’ I always associated the word ‘monster’ with someone who acts evilly and neither of you are like that. I know you’re not entirely human anymore but I refuse to call you monsters. Human or not, you are still a good person.”

It was the moment he had set it in stone that you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. 

“I don’t know,” he answered your questions. “But I have a bad feeling about the whole thing,” he paused momentarily before continuing. “What do you think we should do about the whole… touch thing she has?” He asked you and you frowned in thought.

“Well, I don’t think we should do anything. It’s a part of who she is and she shouldn’t feel the need to be ashamed of it. I don’t necessarily think she should use it on people, least of all those undeserving of it, but she can learn to control it. She doesn’t have to live in fear of herself.”

Just as Hyun-su was about to reply to your heartwarming statement, the two of you were interrupted by Ah-yi screaming and crying from the boat. You both ran in the direction of the scream and when you got there you saw Yi-kyung with her head down as blood dripped from her eye while Ah-yi was rubbing at a wound on her forearm. 

“What’s going on?” Hyun-su questioned in a panic. Seeing the bloody knife on the ground as well as a bloody pencil, you pieced together what happened. It seemed Hyun-su did too, if his sigh was any way to tell. “Why did you have to do this?”

Yi-kyung let out a few heavy breaths as she breathed through the pain coursing through her eye. “I’m her mother. No matter how she changes, or what form she takes… I need to recognize my little girl. I won’t ever lose her.”

It was then you realized the wound Yi-kyung inflicted on Ah-yi was black. You let out another sigh, anger, and understanding fighting for control of your emotions as you realized the purpose of her actions. She may have had better intentions behind the action, but how she carried it out was not the way to go. 

As Yi-kyung rose and left the scene, you sat down in front of Ah-yi, carefully reaching for her left arm where the wound had already healed. You gently used the rag to wipe down her arm, then her other arm, and then her face. You wiped down all the blood that tainted her smooth skin while she sat there silently, most likely in shock by what just happened. The domestic act, despite the violent acts that brought it about, brought a wave of emotion over Hyun-su as he watched the two of you. 

It made him realize how much he wanted a family with you one day. 

After Ah-yi was all clean, you gave her a pair of clothes to change into while you and Hyun-su went to the opposite side of the boat to talk while you waited for her. When she came out, you walked over to give her a hug which she gladly accepted. She squeezed you just as tightly as you squeezed her. You wished you could engrave it into her brain that you would never, could never, be afraid of her. 

Afterward, she went to sit on a barrel, swinging her legs back and forth while you watched her and leaned against Hyun-su’s embrace. It was all so calm until Yi-kyung appeared from the boat’s stairs and walked towards Ah-yi with purpose. Ah-yi, still angry at her mother for what she did, hopped off the barrel and started walking away but was stopped when Yi-kyung’s hand wrapped around her bicep and aggressively pulled her back. The woman shoved her daughter’s hands into a pair of pink gloves connected by a rope that she placed behind the girl’s neck. 

“Don’t take those off no matter what. Understand?” Yi-kyung told her daughter. You rushed forward, feeling anger simmer beneath your blood at the sudden display of aggression she started showing toward her daughter. 

“Hey, don’t you think this is a bit extreme?” You told her, standing in between the two girls. You felt Ah-yi grip your shirt from behind you. You could tell even if her body had grown more, she was still used to her childhood ways of having you protect her. 

“She’s my daughter, I will do as I see fit,” Yi-kyung told you sternly before swiftly turning around and walking back down the stairs of the boat, leaving the three of you alone. 

You turned around to face the girl and sighed when you saw her speed-walking to her sleeping space in the captain’s quarters and locking the door behind her. You and Hyun-su decided to just set up camp outside the door, leaving her alone for the time being so she could sort out her thoughts. 

The next morning, you woke up to the sound of Yi-kyung panicking. You instinctively looked around, looking to protect Ah-yi until you realized she wasn’t there. You rushed to stand up and ran to where her mother was breathing heavily and pacing back and forth.

“What’s going on? Where’s Ah-yi?” You questioned and she turned to face you.

“I don’t know! I was looking for her this morning and I can’t find her anywhere!”

“Shit,” you muttered to yourself. Your thoughts were racing, trying to think of any place she could possibly be. When you finally landed on an answer, you started walking off.

“Where are you going?” Yi-kyung called out to you and you scoffed, not bothering to face her as you continued walking. 

“To find your daughter.”

When you got to the garden dome, the rusting doors were firmly closed unlike the previous times you were here with Ah-yi. Not deterred in any way, you rammed into the doors, successfully sending them flying open. You winced at the loud noise and walked in. 

“Ah-yi!” You yelled out, praying your instinct was right and she was here.

“Go away, Unni,” you heard her soft voice tell you from further into the garden. 

Sighing, you walked closer until you saw her sitting on the grass flooring while playing with a flower. 

“Ah-yi, why don’t you come home?” You tried but she just shook her head. When you realized she wasn’t going to say anything else, you walked closer.

Imagine your surprise when she scrambled away from you, desperate to keep the space between you two. 

“Ah-yi, what’s wrong?” You asked gently, stopping in your tracks to give her the space she desired. 

“Don’t touch me! I might hurt you!” She exclaimed fearfully through a sob and you cursed her mother for putting that image in her head. Taking another slow and gentle step toward her, you internally cheered when she didn’t move away. You took more steps toward her until you were sitting right in front of her and your hand reached for hers. 

When she pulled back, you gave her the best reassuring smile you could muster. “Sweetie, I know that you won’t hurt me. I promise.”

She hesitated but when you reached for her hands again she let you take them. You gave her a smile and squeezed her hand before pulling her into your chest. Your arms wrapped around her shoulders and held her tightly while she started crying more, her body wracking with the violent sobs she let out. 

“I just don’t understand why she hates me so much! Those men hurt me first!” She sobbed into the crook of your neck and you softly caressed her hair, brushing the loose leaves and grass strands out. 

“I know, I’m so sorry she did that to you. You definitely didn’t deserve that,” you reassured her and lifted your chin to rest your head on top of hers when you saw Hyun-su leaning against a wall while watching the two of you with a frown. You used a hand to wave him over and he slowly walked over so he was sitting about a foot away from the two of you. You looked back down at her and kissed her forehead lovingly. “I don’t want you to be afraid of yourself. You did what you had to do in that situation and no one is blaming you for it. Your mom is just…” you hesitated, looking to Hyun-su for support on how to explain the girl’s mother’s actions in a way that wouldn’t drag her name through the mud any more than it already was.

“Your mom was just worried,” Hyun-su intervened when he noticed your pleading gaze, bringing a hand to rest against Ah-yi’s back comfortingly. Ah-yi jumped a bit, startled, but otherwise didn’t do anything. “It was a shock to her to not only see you grow 10 years older in a few seconds but also to see how you dealt with those men. She didn’t want to lose you.”

“You mean she was scared. Scared of me,” she argued.

The both of you stayed quiet for a minute before you spoke again. “I know it doesn’t seem like it now because of what happened yesterday, but I promise you she loves you,” she started crying again and you just hugged her tighter to you. “And if you don’t believe me, at least know that I love you.”

It was the first time you’d expressed that to her in words and she looked up at you in surprise. 

“Really?”

The pure innocence and surprise in her tone were enough for a genuine smile to break out on your face. 

“Of course,” you told her sincerely and brushed her overgrown bangs to the side of her face. 

‘I guess I should trim those soon,’ you thought to yourself. 

“How could I not love you? You’re amazing!” You teased her lightly and she grinned at you. “You’re like a daughter to me, Ah-yi. I can’t see a life in which I wouldn’t love you.”

She dug her head into the crook of your neck again at your words. 

“I just stopped crying,” she complained with a whine that made you laugh. “Don’t make me start again!”

“Okay! Okay,” you caved and leaned back to look at her again. “Why don’t we go home now?” She hesitated for a moment before nodding decisively. 

The three of you stood up and you offered your hand to Ah-yi without a second of hesitation, something you could see in her eyes she appreciated. 

“Ah-yi,” Hyun-su said as the boat came into view in front of you all. You’d stopped by the lake where you saved her all those months ago on the way back and spent a few hours there. Both of you could tell she didn’t really want to go home yet so you extended the day as long as you could. 

She hummed and looked over at him from where you had her propped up on your back in a piggyback ride. She had stepped on a rock and dramatically complained about it until one of you just decided to pick her up and bring her along. 

That someone being you. 

“I…” he hesitated and you freed up a hand to reach over and give his hand a reassuring squeeze. “I need you to do me a favor. When we get back, I need you to go easy on your mom.”

You could feel her body tensing on your back, not expecting his words to be that. You quickly intervened. “We don’t expect you to forgive her anytime soon. Hell, I don’t really expect you to ever forgive her, but I think we both agree that you should give her another chance,” you told her. She huffed and rested her chin on your head childishly. “We’ll talk to her whenever we get back and tell her what she did was wrong, but she was only trying to keep you with her.”

There were a few moments where Ah-yi stayed silent as you walked and you got nervous about what her reaction would be until she sighed. 

“Fine.”

You sighed in relief and smiled. What you wouldn’t tell her is that the ‘talk’ you would be having would most likely be a screaming match between the two of you while Hyun-su tried to be the mediator. 

It had been about a month since that day and you’d stayed with Ah-yi and Yi-kyung for about half of it. The rest of the time, you and Hyun-su traveled through the city together, enjoying the feeling of being free with each other and occasionally spying on the soldiers of the stadium when they went out on their supply runs. 

“I have a bad feeling,” Hyun-su told you one day while the two of you were washing a muddied shirt in the river. 

“Let’s go check it out then,” you told him, standing up and wiping your hands on your trousers but he held his hand up. 

“I… I don’t think you should come with me.”

You looked at him, feeling shocked and slightly hurt but masking it under a calm exterior. “O-oh. Oka-”

“I just mean it feels dangerous. I don’t really know how to explain it,” he interrupted you quickly, hesitantly taking one of your hands and squeezing it reassuringly. 

You gave him a small frown. “But I don’t want you to be in any danger either.”

He smiled confidently at you and stared deeply into your eyes. “I promise I will be okay. Just stay in the shed until I get back. I’ll be back in a few hours at most.”

After a moment of hesitation, your eyes flicking between the broken down shed behind you and Hyun-su’s dark mocha brown eyes, you nodded in agreement. He smiled at you before turning in the opposite direction and starting to walk away. Just as he started to get out of arm's length, you tightened the grip you had around his hand. He turned back to you, tilting his head in question but your head was down, your eyes focused on his hand where you gently played with his fingers. 

“Please return to me,” you whispered, barely audible to him and he sighed. Taking a step forward, he wrapped his arms around you, one resting on the back of your head and the other around your waist. 

“I will, Lucky. I always will.”

Eun-yu walked down the empty street of the city, darkness clouding every corner and making her jump at every noise. She wasn’t nearly as experienced as you when it came to venturing off alone and outside of the stadium so it was all new to her. This was her first time out of the stadium, let alone all by herself, and she had barely any idea of what to do or where to go. It all started when she was waiting for you at the exit you used to go through when you went on your personal expeditions. 

She wasn’t dumb. She knew you were leaving every day and trying to hurt yourself, yet every day you came back safe. Maybe a little broken and bruised at times, but alive nonetheless. Despite the two of you not being close, she still cared about you more than anything. You were the closest thing to a friend that she had. She was positive you didn’t remember this, but she had helped comfort you one night as you cried after another - but also thankfully your last - attempt to leave this world. You told her about the force that kept you alive, protecting you from monsters and from yourself. You told her about how you blame yourself for Hyun-su’s disappearance and how he was most likely dead. You told her everything. Afterward, you ended up passing out in her embrace and sleeping the entirety of the next day away while she stayed by your side to ward off anyone wanting to wake you. 

Once you woke up, you seemed normal. The same expressionless look on your face as you went on with your day. It stayed that way for a long time. Eun-yu tried her best to do subtle things to help you; to make you feel more wanted and make you blame yourself less.

Until one day, you never came back. 

You leaving and never returning is what led her to be standing at the exit not even a week ago, feeding some of her rations to a small stray kitten. It’s what led her to stay there even when Chan-young approached her and asked her what she was doing. It’s what made her stay even after a young girl she hadn’t recognized revealed herself. It’s what made her stay despite the pleas to go back inside from Chan-young and allowed her to see the woman she thought had died show up and take the girl with her. 

It is also what led her here, all alone looking for you or the girl or Yi-kyung. Whilst finding you was her main goal, she would be satisfied with any of the three. 

She lost Chan-young somewhere along the way after he was poisoned by the girl accompanying that old man but she didn’t let that deter her. 

Now, in the dark shadows looming over the alleyways she walked through, a long metal pipe clutched in one of her hands, she searched the abandoned city with the need to find you forcing down any fear she was feeling. The unoccupied hand had an old piece of clothing wrapped around it, protecting any dirt from getting into the wound where she protected Yeong-su from that soldier.

She often wondered if you knew how much you inspired her to be brave and protect those around her.

After some time, she found herself standing in front of a large greenhouse. Most of the windows were broken and she could see the plants inside had overgrown their once pristinely gardened form, but it was gorgeous regardless. The moonlight shone through the broken glass and cast spotlights of glimmering luminescence across the vegetation. She took a moment to admire everything, noting how you would’ve loved a space like this until she heard a growling sound from behind her and her guard immediately went back up. Moving the pipe so it was tightly grasped in her hands like a baseball bat, she held it defensively and slowly crept closer to the source of the growling. The large crater in the ground made her sick, reminding her of the tragedy that happened less than a year ago when the government tried to kill as many people as possible in order to ‘save humanity from itself.’ 

As she got closer, she raised the pipe over her head, ready to strike at any moment. The growling of the monster got louder as she approached and she prepared herself to swing until-

“He won’t attack you.”

Eun-yu turned around, facing the new voice and seeing the same girl from before. She lowered the pipe, letting it hang loosely at her side as the girl took slow steps toward her. Since she was almost positive this girl would have nothing to do with you, she instead asked about Yi-kyung. “I’m looking for Yi-kyung. You know where she is, right?” The girl stayed silent, gradually getting closer as she continued with her measured footsteps. “I have to meet with her.”

The two girls stared at each other as the younger girl approached. Silence stilled the air until it was broken.

“Mom… the people… they’re all bad.”

“Did you say ‘Mom’?” Eun-yu questioned, her face portraying her confusion and shock.

‘She couldn’t mean Yi-’

“You’re no different,” the girl concluded, taking her last few steps forward more quickly and launching Eun-yu down into the hole behind her. Feeling the ground disappear from below her feet and the wind rush through her hair, she screamed. 

A scream.

A scream was what stopped you from continuing your washing of Hyun-su and your clothes. You snapped your head in the direction of the noise so fast you were worried you got whiplash. Unconsciously clutching the current piece of clothing you’d been washing in your hands, you started sprinting in the direction of the noise. As you got closer, the area around you got brighter and you noticed it becoming increasingly more familiar to you. It was when you saw the familiar metal canisters that you realized you were near the boat.

It was also when you realized the boat was on fire. 

You gasped as you saw the flames licking away at the deck in the distance, pushing your body past its limits as you forced yourself to go faster, faster, faster. You were beyond terrified at the implications the fire had.

‘Was this the bad feeling Hyun-su had?’ You asked yourself. You tried your best to stay as positive as possible until you got there but it was difficult with all the possibilities swirling in your mind. However, there was one possibility you clung to: while the boat burning was bad in itself, maybe nobody was on it.

Maybe.

When you got to the stairs of the boat, you climbed them as quickly as you could, ignoring the pain in your foot when you slipped down one and ended up stepping on it wrong.

‘That’s a problem for later.’

You got to the top, not seeing anybody in the burning embers surrounding you. Quickly covering your mouth with the still-damp piece of fabric in your hands and thanking yourself for unconsciously holding onto it, you ran around the top of the deck, looking for any signs of life while simultaneously praying for none. Seeing nothing, your mind ran at a hundred miles per hour as you tried to decide if that was a good or bad thing. 

“Cha Hyun-su!” You screamed out, the use of his last name representing your evident panic. “Seo Ah-yi!” It was when you circled the captain’s quarters that you saw a familiar lean body. “Seo Yi-kyung!” 

You rushed forward, sliding down to your knees as you reached her and turning her onto her back. You winced as you saw the burn marks and ash littering across the side of her face. You brought the wet clothing down from where it covered your mouth and nose, quickly replacing it with the cuff of your jacket as you used the wet fabric to cover Yi-kyung’s nose. The fire caught onto your pants and you scrambled to put it out, letting out muffled screams into your sleeve as it burned your skin. 

You watched as the small baby monster you knew to be Ah-yi’s friend approached you and Yi-kyung. You were mainly confused about why it showed up here willingly, usually, monsters were terrified of fire and would avoid it at all costs but that didn’t seem to be the case. 

“Go away! Get out of here!” You screamed at the baby but it just babbled at you, running up to you and setting out the fire on your pants. Then, it began to circle around the two of you, using its body to roll out any fire that got too close. You quietly sobbed, your tears feeling like ice against your flaming skin. “Thank you,” you whispered to the small creature, feeling so grateful yet guilty for the way it was putting itself in danger for you. 

Suddenly, as you felt yourself fading out of consciousness, the exhaustion from the run over, and the pain in your foot getting to you, you heard a familiar voice call out for you.

“Lucky!”

Hyun-su...

Eun-yu screamed out as she fell until she quieted, accepting her death to be by falling down a large hole while not knowing if her only friend was dead or alive. Just as she lost all hope, the sound of something whipping through the wind above caught her attention along with a familiar large wing made of bone and muscle only. It was only for a moment that she caught a glimpse of the boy’s face before his arm wrapped around her body and they shot up. 

Reaching the top, Hyun-su swung around so his body would take the brunt of the fall and they crashed. Sliding across the concrete, he used his wing to slow them down as much as possible and keep her as unharmed as he could. Barely taking a minute to breathe when they came to a stop, Hyun-su opened his arm and rolled Eun-yu off before standing back up. 

“Cha Hyun-su,” the girl tried, struggling to lift herself from the ground. Receiving no response as he continued walking toward Ah-yi, who was watching curiously from the other side of the crater, she tried again. “Cha Hyun-su!” She finally made it to her feet as she screamed.

Hyun-su let out a breath. He took a moment to force his eyes to return to their natural state instead of the endless void that would consume him when in his monster state before slowly turning around to face her.

“Are you really just gonna leave like that?” She asked him, more quietly this time as he faced her. His wing flapped lightly at his side, whistling through the wind in an ethereally beautiful way. 

At least, that’s how you would often describe it.

“Were you expecting a hug or something?” He asked her in a blank tone and she looked at him with exasperated annoyance. 

“Yeah, I was. I expected at least a ‘Glad to see you. How’ve you been?’” She retorted back at him, getting angrier by the moment at the completely blank look on his face. 

“But I’m not glad to see you,” he told her and she couldn’t help but expect it. She knew they weren’t close. Nowhere near as close as you were with Hyun-su. You always tried so hard to make him feel included, to fight for his rights even when Eun-hyuk kept you as far away from him as possible. After you tried to break the lock of the door that one time, he gave strict instructions to everyone who had a guard duty that they were not to allow you near the room. You would always leave Eun-hyuk with the same phrase after each failed attempt to see the boy.

“You’re a coward. You won’t go up the stairs to retrieve the residents’ items yourself and then you treat the man who does do it like scum. I can’t believe you.”

It was what made her like you in the first place. While she knew you and Hyun-su had known each other for a brief period before the apocalypse, she couldn’t help but admire how you stood up for the boy without a second thought. She was pretty sure she realized your feelings for him before even you did. 

“You weren’t supposed to know how to leave the stadium. You should’ve just stayed away,” Hyun-su’s voice broke her out of her brief flash of memories. 

“It was you all along…” she started, taking a stuttering step toward him. “That night with the rope… all the times she tried to kill herself… it was you who saved her, wasn’t it?”

By the lack of surprise or questioning on his face, she knew her answer. They stayed silent for a few more seconds, Eun-yu waiting for an answer and Hyun-su trying to provide one. Though his face remained monotonous, he was trying to come up with an answer that wouldn’t give her too much information but would satisfy her concern and need to know. 

“We crossed paths. I figured since we weren’t strangers I might as well help her out. I know what it’s like. She doesn’t deserve that kind of a death. That’s it. Nothing more,” he looked at her, making sure his words weren’t just floating in one ear and out the other. “You understand?” 

Without waiting for her to respond, he turned around again, rolling his eyes.

‘I have to get back to-’ 

“That’s bullshit and we both know it!” Eun-yu yelled from behind him, interrupting his thoughts. She took fast purposeful steps toward him as she continued to speak. “You’re in love with her, she was your everythin-!”

Hyun-su brought his wing down and scraped the concrete behind him, only a few feet away from where Eun-yu was standing. She held her breath, waiting for his next move and cursing herself for the shiver of fear that ran up her spine at his actions.

‘You would never fear him like this.’

Seeing him not make any more moves, she tried again. Prying her feet off the floor from where the strange acid was kicked up by the large appendage, she started walking again only for Hyun-su to slam his wing down again. This time, the toe of her front boot had melted off and she could see the black socks she wore underneath peeking through. She mentally slapped herself for how the breath she let out was shaky. Forcing herself to peel her boots off the ground again, she tried to take another step when suddenly a hand latched onto her bicep and pulled her back, sending her tumbling to the ground. 

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” The large man, Ho-sang+ asked. His shoulders were draped with a homemade camouflage outfit made of grass and hay. The man raised his shotgun, aiming it toward Hyun-su who had still yet to turn around. “You monster piece of shit, what are you doing here?” The boy turned to look over his shoulder at the new voice. “Get gone!”

Right as Hyun-su turned back around to keep walking, Eun-yu spoke up again.

“Wait!” She scrambled to her feet, intending on running over to Hyun-su but the older man grabbed her shoulders and held her back. “Cha Hyun-su. Cha Hyun-su!” He came to a halt again and it was enough of a tell he was waiting for her to continue. “She…” she began, hesitating to tell him this in case her gut feeling was wrong. “She’s been missing for months. Do you know… I mean… is she…” She couldn't force herself to get her words out, only able to speak in between shaky breaths as she started to think of the worst possible outcomes. If her gut feeling was wrong and you weren’t really with Hyun-su, she didn’t know what she would do.  

Hyun-su turned back around to look at her over his shoulder. Keeping eye contact with her for a few moments as he debated whether to tell her or not, he relented.

“She’s alive.”

Turning back around, he could hear the breaths of relief Eun-yu and the older man both released, albeit for different reasons. 

Following Ah-yi, they both walked away from the two humans. He waited until they got to the edge of the river to start talking.

“Why did you do that?”

“I don't like her,” Ah-yi responded.

“So why don't you like her?” He pushed, 

“Every human is the same. She’s no different,” she yelled angrily before her voice dropped to a mumble he was just barely able to hear. “The only human to be an exception is Unni.”

Hyun-su looked at her when she stopped, the anger being shown clearly on her face and he was confused about why she was so riled up. The quiet atmosphere was only interrupted by the hooting of the owls in the nearby trees. 

“I was curious about humans at first… because both Mom and Unni are human. So I said ‘hi’ and they…” She took a shaky breath in before continuing. “They hurt me. They yelled and they pushed and... and they hurt me too. And they killed all my friends and monsters!” She screamed out, her voice heavy with raw emotion. “Leaving just me.”

“They were just scared,” Hyun-su tried to soothe her anger and pain as her eyes filled with tears. “Afraid of losing someone.”

“Then I'll give them a reason. Show them how scary it was,” her heavy breathing slowly evened out and Hyun-su sighed. He knew you would be able to help her with a situation like this better than he would. From the very first day, you always seemed to have a way of calming her down and helping her through the more difficult times.

“Let's get out of here. Yeah?” He suggested as tears began to fall down her cheeks, hitting the pavement below with an imperceptible plop. 

“There's no place for me. My house is gone,” she told him. 

“What… do you mean?” He asked after a few silent beats. 

“I… no longer need you. Not you, or Mom…” she paused to calm herself but couldn’t stop the sob that came with her next words. “Or Unni. Not anymore.”

Hyun-su let out a slight gasp before sprinting in the direction of the boat. He hoped his suspicions were wrong. He hoped Ah-yi wouldn’t do that to her mother.

But he knew she would.

He’d heard the countless nights you spent with her in your arms as you consoled her and reassured her about her mother’s love when she was positive it no longer existed. He knew how much she hated the woman who gave birth to her, hated her for the love she once had but lost on that fateful day. 

Hyun-su ignored the sharp pain in his lungs as he sprinted toward the boat, cursing lightly when he saw the fire engulfing it from afar. Finally reaching it, he ran around looking desperately for Yi-kyung and screaming her name. 

It wasn’t until he found both her and you lying on the ground that his panic started to take over. 

“Lucky!” He screamed, running towards you and dropping to his knees. He quickly picked both of you up, the weight not a struggle for him but the positioning of your bodies being a bit awkward. He ended up with Yi-kyung on his back piggyback style and you being held in his arms like his bride. Seeing the small creature passed out only a few feet away, he picked it up too and put it on your lap as he walked off the boat, letting the home full of memories burn itself to the ground forevermore. 

Hyun-su walked towards the swan boat about a quarter mile away from the boat. Gently setting Yi-kyung down first, he placed you down with your head in his lap. He cursed himself. He couldn’t believe he had just left you alone. He couldn’t believe you would go into such a dangerous place willingly. 

But then again, he couldn’t be surprised. You were like that, so selfless and kind. If you saw the boat on fire you would never allow yourself to stay behind while there was a potential of the people you loved being on that boat. 

He was thankful you at least were smart enough to cover your nose and mouth when you were there. The ripped and slightly scorched shirt covering Yi-kyung’s mouth was one he recognized to be yours. And although it wasn’t a great replacement, he saw how the cuff of your jacket sleeve was loosely placed over your own mouth, slipping once you’d fallen unconscious. 

As he was picking the bits of seared wood and singed fabric from your hair, a small whisper of his name drew his attention behind him to Yi-kyung.

“Hyun-su…”

He turned around, making sure not to jostle you around too much as he looked at her. Her face was burned, fresh wounds scarring the flesh of her cheeks that would forever alter her appearance. 

“Are you okay, Yi-kyung?”

“It’s all my fault it’s like this,” she started. Hyun-su stayed silent as she continued. “I just wanted her to be safe like you were,” she whimpered, it was unclear whether it was from the pain on her skin or the pain in her heart. “All I wanted was for her to…” she sobbed but no tears came out yet. She was dehydrated and wounded and it was clear she wouldn’t make it without medical help they no longer had. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” Hyun-su refuted.

Yi-kyung groaned as she sat up, leaning heavily against the edge of the swan boat. “I should’ve killed her.”

Hyun-su’s eyes widened at her words. While he knew that was what she had wanted when her baby was first born, he didn’t know it was still something she thought about. 

“In the back of my mind, I always had that thought. I know she must’ve felt it when I had those thoughts,” she breathed heavily, her breaths sounding gritty and labored. She looked at the girl lying in Hyun-su’s lap, feeling angry, regretful, and jealous, but mostly grateful. Grateful she had at least you to look up to and show her the way when she couldn’t. “I know she would always tell her about how she hated me,” she pointed at you weakly. “I know she always saw her as more of a mother than she did me.” 

“You’re wrong,” Hyun-su protested. “While Ah-yi loves Lucky, she needs you as her mother. I know because I was there too through all those days,” he looked down at you, eyes still shut and sweat clinging to your skin. “So was she,” he breathed out a sigh and looked back at Yi-kyung. “You said you were a bad mother, but you know that’s just not true.”

“The fault is all mine,” tears fell down her cheeks as she spoke, a soothing touch to her wounded face. “I was the one who made her like this,” she blamed herself, Hyun-su’s reassuring words either not registering in her brain or being completely ignored. “No, this is good,” she accepted. She knew her end would be soon. “It turning out like this is for the best. This way, I… I don’t have to kill my daughter.,” she sobbed.

“Were you really going to kill her?” He asked incredulously. At her lack of response, he continued. “Why? You’re her mother! So why?” 

“I don’t deserve to be,” she cut him off. “I could never be worthy of her, not when I treated her so differently than you did. Than she did,” she explained. She couldn’t fathom saying your name, feeling unworthy of being near you when she always had those terrible thoughts of hurting her own flesh and blood. You had always treated her so much better than she had, treating her like your own daughter, whether it was by blood or not. “I had the same thought hundreds of times. ‘Why is she cursed like this?’ Why?” She started sobbing again, the guilt and blame she put on herself for the past year torturing her soul. “It’s all my fault. My awful thoughts and desires turned her… into a… monster.”

Hyun-su scoffed. “Yeah, so what?” He looked at her and the surprise of his words stopped her crying. “Are monsters really all bad?”

Yi-kyung sighed and just as Hyun-su was going to continue talking, the soft babbling of the baby monster sounded out again, drawing both their attention to the mini creature. He gently picked it up, holding it in his arms as he spoke again. “This one saved you. Saved both of you. Saved you because you’re family…” his eyes filled with tears but he refused to let his voice break. “You see, monsters feel and recognize people. Because they were human once too.”

He hugged the monster to his chest, and the conversation ended when Yi-kyung faded out of consciousness. 

The group sat around the campfire, Ha-ni snuggled up against Chan-young’s side while the other two sat alone.

“So, which is it?” Eun-yu asked. “A brother? A boss? A dad? What are you to each other?”

“Why the hell does it matter? Just eat and get lost,” the older man evaded the question. 

“Um… why don’t you come back with us? You’ll be safer there,” Park Chan-young offered and Ha-ni’s head perked up in excitement. 

“Are we getting married then?” She asked, moving closer to his side and resting her head against his shoulder.

“Uh, that’s… that’s not what I’m saying,” he repudiated. 

“Safe? You guys have just been lucky,” the older man rolled his eyes at the suggestion. “That, or you don’t know better.”

“I think you might be underestimating some of us.”

“I don’t trust humans, okay?” He concluded.

“I’m not surprised. But you don’t trust monsters either?” Eun-yu integrated herself into the conversation once more. “And what about her?” She asked, tilting her head at Ha-ni. “You trust her?” He didn’t respond and it was silent for a minute. “Sure seems like it.”

Ha-ni, noticing how the atmosphere was turning strange and uncomfortable, interrupted. “Let’s go with them. Let’s go together, teacher, hmm?” She insisted, leaning forward in her seat to emphasize her wants. “Hey, let’s go!”

The older man looked thoughtful for a moment, considering his companion’s words before noticing something in the distance. 

“What are you doing here?” He screamed accusingly, raising his shotgun threateningly toward the figure approaching. 

Hyun-su walked forward. Yi-kyung was tied against his back using the long-sleeved shirt you used to cover your mouth in the fire meanwhile you were held in his arms, cradled against his chest protectively. 

He raised his head slightly to look at them, continuing his stride forward despite the threat of the gun in front of him. 

In the blink of an eye, Ha-ni appeared next to Ho-sang as he held the gun and moved his arms, forcing it to face the ground just as he pulled the trigger. It hit the rocks harmlessly and she looked at Hyun-su curiously. 

Taking a deep breath, he slowly lowered himself to his knees and placed Yi-kyung on the ground after untying her. Keeping you in his arms as he rose again, he held you close as Eun-yu rushed forward. Stopping just a foot in front of him, she looked down at you in shock. She reached her hand out to caress your cheek but stopped herself at the last second. 

“Please help,” Hyun-su begged and Eun-yu lifted her chin to look at him. “This was the only place I could turn to.”

Both Chan-young and Ha-ni walked over to where Yi-kyung was lying on the ground, kneeling down to properly assess the damage on her body. 

“How did she get like this? And the kid? The girl who left with you?” Eun-yu asked before looking down at you still in Hyun-su’s arms and finally allowing her fingers to skim along the feverish skin of your cheek as she whispered your name, stunned. “And what about her? Is she okay? Why isn’t she awake?”

“First, let’s get them both inside,” Chan-young stopped her questioning before Hyun-su could respond. Ha-ni helped him prop the woman on her back, fully intending to bring her into the trailer until a gunshot sounded. 

Eun-yu froze in shock, paralyzed by seeing Hyun-su stumble back with a gunshot to the shoulder. He fell to his knees once more, his grip on you loosening but refusing to let go. He gently set your lower body down onto his lap, his now free hand going to hold his wounded shoulder while the other held your upper body to his chest. He ignored the anger that stirred in his chest when he saw how close the shot came to your face, just missing by a few inches. Clenching his eyes closed tightly and blocking out the sound of everyone talking and screaming around him, he forced the familiar feeling of his monster down. When he finally looked up and opened his eyes he saw Eun-yu holding Ha-ni against her chest with blade centimeters from her neck. 

“- and I’ll cut her fucking head off.”

Ha-ni scoffed at her words with an annoyed smile but didn’t try to fight back or move away. 

“Way to prove my point about humans,” Ho-sang told her, not lowering his gun. “Pulling this shit after I saved your life is rich.”

“I said I’ll take him with me. I said I’ll take them so just… what's your problem?” Eun-yu begged the man, tears forming along her waterline as the situation continued to go downhill. 

“You’re with monsters,” Ho-sang explained, glaring at her from his spot. “That makes you a threat. And you call yourself human? Jesus.”

“You call yourself human when you just almost shot a girl in the face? He might not be human but she is!” She screamed at him and continued when she saw the flicker of guilt in his eyes. “And what makes you special? How can you be sure you’re gonna stay immune?” She questioned but he stayed silent. “What if you were to start showing symptoms? Seems a bullet is your only option. Since monsters have to die.”

Hyun-su groaned in pain before trying to stop her from baiting the man. “Stop it,” his words were spoken weakly as more blood spilled from his wound. He covered it with the fabric of his shirt, trying to avoid getting as much blood on you as possible but the splatters of blood across your forehead and cheeks told him it was already a bit too late for that. 

“And her?” Eun-yu continued, ignoring the boy’s warnings and protests as she started to speak about Ha-ni. “Could you put a bullet in her?” Her words were spoken softly but Ho-sang heard it loud and clear. He stayed quiet again, not willing to speak of the situation he feared the most. “How about I save you the trouble?” She offered.

“Oh, yeah. So this is who you are,” he finally spoke, nodding in disdain at her actions. 

“Stop it,” Hyun-su tried again but again was ignored. “Don’t do this Eun-yu,” he begged. 

Suddenly, Ha-ni grabbed the wrist holding the knife to her throat, and twisted it away from herself, spinning around so the knife was now in her possession and the tip was pointing directly at Eun-yu’s neck. There was a collective gasp from everyone watching and Ho-sang lowered his guns in shock. “Ha-ni!” He yelled at her as she stuck the point of the blade in Eun-yu’s neck, causing a trail of blood to leak out. 

After a moment of tense silence, she pulled the knife away and dropped it to the floor where it clattered against the rocks loudly. Pushing her forward, she walked over and entered her car, entering it and called for Ho-sang to join her. 

“In this life, we weren’t meant to be,” she started, talking to Chan-young as her companion got into the car and started it up. “Maybe the next one. Get rid of the girl though.”

The group watched as the two drove off before Chan-young turned to Hyun-su. “Are you okay to move? How’s your shoulder?”

Hyun-su pulled his hand away, the wound already having closed and the blood surrounding it was the only reminder that it was ever there in the first place. He nodded. “It’s okay.”

Chan-young took a few steps closer to him before kneeling beside him and looking at where you rested in his arms. The pain from your ankle and slight burns showed on your leg but you luckily didn’t seem to have any difficulty breathing or major damage. “And her? Are you still okay to carry her?” 

Hyun-su nodded once again while he moved his empty hand to once again rest under your knees and stood up. “Yes, I’m okay.”

“I think we’d better go. Monsters may have heard the gunfire,” Chan-young concluded and walked behind Hyun-su as he started the path to his chosen destination, whatever that place may be.

Eun-yu kneeled down to grab her bag and knife before looking back at Hyun-su. “Let’s go.”

He sighed as she started to walk behind him, taking a moment to look at you and make sure you were alright before he followed. He would have to wipe his shoulder down and clean the blood from your face before you woke up. He didn’t feel like worrying you about his injury just yet. 

Sighing once more, he turned around and started to follow the two. 

They arrived at the destination Chan-young had brought them to. It was a hospital, or at least it used to be. As they got inside, there was broken glass everywhere and scratches from an unnatural creature lining the floor. It was clear it was no longer the medical place it used to be. 

Setting Yi-kyung down on the hospital bed they found, Chan-young turned to Hyun-su and asked, “What happened to her?”

“A fire started where she was staying,” he started to explain, still holding you since all the other hospital beds they could find were not exactly clean. At least the one Yi-kyung was lying on didn’t have any blood stains on it. He didn’t mind though. “I think there was no way out. She was already unconscious by the time I made it in.”

“It’s carbon monoxide poisoning,” Chan-young concluded from the evidence provided before standing up urgently and turning to Eun-yu. “Something like a small gas tank should be lying around. Go look for some,” he then turned to Hyun-su who was getting ready to stand and help them. “You should probably stay here,” he told him and Hyun-su stayed silent for a moment as he looked at you in his arms before nodding in agreement. He moved to lean against the wall as the other two went off in different directions to search for the gas tank. 

After a while, there was the faint sound of someone yelling, “I found one!” Soon after, both Eun-yu and Chan-young returned to the bed, the boy carrying a gas tank in his hands which he set up next to it. Expertly, he plugged the tube into the tank and turned the air on, testing the pressure and how much oxygen was left in the tank. 

“Does it work?” Eun-yu asked just as the arrow pointed to ‘REFILL’ and Chan-young sighed. “What? What is it?”

“It’s out of oxygen,” he explained.

“So what happens now?”

“Her organs will start to fail without… without a steady supply of oxygen,” he told them before his head fell forward. “Fuck me.”

“Enough of that crap. Is there any other way?” Eun-yu begged, unwillingly to give up so soon. 

“It’s already too late.”

“Don’t say that unless you’ve tried everything,” she told him seriously, she then moved over to start picking Yi-kyung up by her arms. “Park Chan-young, help me carry her. Let’s get her to the stadium. We have to leave now,” she ordered but he didn’t move and Hyun-su just buried his head in your hair emotionally. “I said help me carry her!” She sobbed, setting her back down when he still didn’t try to help her and covering her face with her hands. 

The group just finished moving both you and Yi-kyung to another room, this one finally having another bed that wasn’t stained with blood and smelling of a rotting corpse. Chan-young helped Eun-yu carry Yi-kyung to the room while Hyun-su held you close, only letting you go when they found the bed for you to lie on. 

Despite how his monster body protested, he allowed Eun-yu to have a moment alone with you and Yi-kyung in the room, choosing instead to wait on the bench outside. He saw through the crack in the door how she held your hand gently and spoke words he couldn’t hear. He watched as she set your hand down across your stomach and retreated from the room to sit on the bench with him, leaving an empty seat between them. 

“Are you feeling better?” Hyun-su asked her once she sat down. She sighed quietly and he took that as her response. “We did the best we could.”

“Are you comfortable with this?” She asked him, not understanding how he could be so calm in a moment like this. “Is leaving her to die like that really the right thing to do?”

“Now that I think about it… I think it’s what she wanted,” he construed and she turned her head to look at him. 

“What?”

“Her boat was deliberately burned, but she chose to stay aboard.”

“Why, though?” Eun-yu whispered. “Why would Yi-kyung do that?”

“I wanna ask you something,” Hyun-su told her and she stayed quiet as she waited for him to speak. “How’s everyone doing? I’ve tried asking Lucky but she always gets really quiet when I do.”

Eun-yu’s lips quirked up minutely at the familiar term of endearment but the memory of her grief overwhelmed it. She took a few deep breaths to compose herself before answering him. “Hye-in and Su-yeong are dead. And Yoon Ji-su, too.”

Now Hyun-su knew why you would never talk about it, why you would always get quiet and have that far-away look in your eyes when he asked. He always figured you just didn’t know, that maybe you got separated at some point, but somewhere deep down he knew that was just wishful thinking. While he hated that you didn’t confide in him, he understood where you were coming from. Even a year isn’t always enough time to heal enough to talk about something so tragic. 

“Just like that, they’re all gone,” she continued in a whisper. He turned his head away from her as a tear fell down his cheek before she spoke up more loudly this time, masking the emotion in her voice with false confidence. “Now let me ask you a question,” she said. He turned to look at her but she was looking in the direction of where you lay on the hospital bed, head tilted to the side as you breathed easily. “How is she doing, really? Is she better?” Her voice almost broke as she unwillingly thought back to how you were feeling during your time in the stadium but she was able to mask it with a cough. While she was hoping you were doing better now that you were with Hyun-su and hopefully didn’t blame yourself for his disappearance anymore, she had to be sure.

“She’s doing good. She still has her bad days but overall she’s doing better.”

She breathed a sigh of relief, a single tear falling down her cheek. “Thank you.”

He turned his head to look back at her and saw she was now staring at him. “Hm?”

“You brought her back to me. I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t at least see her one more time. If I didn’t make sure she was still alive. So thank you.” 

He nodded. “Of course.”

“I also,” she continued. “Want to thank you for returning to her,” she shot him a watery smile as her eyes brimmed with tears. “God knows she deserves it.”

When you woke up, the first things you saw were the blaring lights of the white lighting fixture above you. Groaning, you brought a hand up to cover your eyes and turned your head only to gasp when you saw the burned face of Yi-kyung on the bed next to yours. Quickly throwing your legs over the side of the bed and standing up to check on her, you let out a yelp of pain as you stepped on your wounded ankle and crumpled to the floor. 

Breathing heavily, you cursed yourself before hearing the sound of fast-paced footsteps entering the room you were in. You leaned up on one hand and saw a face you’d longed to see for weeks. 

“Eun-yu?”

The girl snapped her head to where you sat and gasped out your name, running toward you and crouching down. She grabbed your arms and helped you stand up, making you sit on the edge of the bed so she could check out your foot. 

“How are you feeling?” She asked, concerned but all you could think about was the woman breathing unevenly on the bed behind her. 

“Fine, fine,” you said dismissively, only half listening to her concerns. “How is Yi-kyung? Is she okay?”

Eun-yu slapped your arm lightly. “You were passed out for half a day, let me worry about you.”

You gave a small chuckle at her words, reaching your arms out to wrap around her shoulders. “It’s good to see you, Eun-yu. I’ve missed you.”

She exhaled slowly, wrapping her own arms around you and letting herself relax in your embrace. 

“Wait, what am I doing here?” You asked as you softly pushed her away from you. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you at the stadium? Are you okay?” You gasped, firing questions at her like a machine gun prior to grabbing the sides of her puffy jacket sleeves and pulling her a few inches closer as you looked her over for any injuries. Other than the small wound on her neck, she seemed to be relatively unharmed.

“That doesn’t matter right now,” she scolded lightly and lifted your wounded and swollen ankle up. “First, we should fix this up. I’m sure there’s some tape or something around here,” she started to walk away but turned back to look at you. “Don’t move,” she scolded with a finger pointed at you accusingly. You held your hands up in a surrender motion and laughed. 

After a while of looking around the room, she walked back with a wad of medical tape in her hand. You watched in awe as she started to expertly wrap your foot with the medical tape in a way that would help keep it in place. Noticing your stare, she explained. “I used to do ballet. I sprained my ankle and had to do this every day.”

“Well lucky me then,” you told her with a smile that she returned once she finished. She then cut the ripped pant leg off at the knee and cut the singed parts off. Using the burned-free part of the fabric, she gave you her hand to squeeze as she poured the clear liquid inside a bottle of vodka on your burns. You screamed and stuffed your sleeve into your mouth, both stopping yourself from breaking your teeth and muffling your pained noises. After finishing disinfecting the wound, she got to work on wrapping the cut fabric around your burns to prevent any further dirt from entering it.

Breathing heavily through your pain, you grabbed the nearly empty bottle of vodka after she set it down and lifted it to your nose. 

It looked like vodka.

It smelled like vodka.

Taking a sip, your face scrunched up in displeasure. 

Definitely vodka, although something was off. 

“Why is it so watery?” You asked her. Eun-yu’s head snapped up to see you bring the bottle to your lips again to take another sip. 

Grabbing the bottle away from you, she smirked and brought the bottle to her lips, drinking the last of the liquid while you whined. After sighing overexaggeratedly, she smiled at you and handed the bottle back to you. You shot her a glare “For one, when are you ever going to find a steal like that again? Had to make sure it lasted!” You laughed. “And second, regular vodka is too potent to use as a disinfectant by itself, you have to water it down so you don’t burn away your nerves.”

She secured the fabric with the medical tape and tapped your knee to signal she was finished. She helped you down from the table and let you wrap an arm around her shoulder as you limped over to the bench outside of the room. You thanked her just as you saw another familiar face appear around the corner. “Park Chan-young? What are you doing here?”

“Ah, you’re awake! How are you feeling?” He asked instead of answering your question. 

“I’m feeling okay, my ankle hurts a little but not too bad,” you told him with a smile before it faded and your head turned to look at Yi-kyung through the still-opened door. “She’s not going to make it, she?”

You heard the two of them sigh behind you and you let out a shaky breath. Tilting your head up, you tried to stop the tears from falling. 

It was silent for a while, the only sounds were the ragged breathing from Yi-kyung in the next room until Chan-young spoke. 

“Cha Hyun-su, was it?” He asked and your head snapped up to look at him while Eun-yu who was sitting beside you didn’t even flinch. “That’s the monster that killed Mr. Kim, right?”

You opened your mouth to ask what he meant when Eun-yu spoke before you could.

“It gets on my nerves when you use the word ‘kill’.”

He sat down next to her and leaned forward in his chair with his elbows resting on his knees. “Well, nonetheless, that’s how it went down.”

“Your curiosity will cost you someday,” at his silence to her words, she sighed and continued. “Mr. Kim was displaying symptoms.”

The news of this story was no surprise to you. While you weren’t there when it happened, you do remember how Eun-yu had relayed the story to you only a few nights after the incident. You didn’t know she knew it was Hyun-su though, and to be honest you felt slightly betrayed. 

“I don’t know when it’d begun.”

“Wait,” Chan-young started, gasping at the new information. “But why didn’t you say anything? You were branded as a murderer.”

“The Chief and I have had… a long-standing grudge. Yet we all lived because she opened the stadium to us. I can’t deny that. I just couldn’t screw her over like that.”

You quietly gasped. Despite the information not being new to you, you hadn’t known the reason she never spoke up was because of that. 

“Lee Eun-yu,” Chan-young said softly.

“Eun-yu, you shouldn’t have done that to yourself,” you scolded her quietly. 

“Don’t get me wrong. That wasn’t the only reason,” she continued, leaning back in her seat. “I didn’t know it was Hyun-su, but… either way, I didn’t want to tell Crow Platoon.”

Oh. So Eun-yu didn’t know it was Hyun-su. That definitely made you feel better than the idea of her knowing this entire time and just not telling you. 

When a sudden gasp was heard from the room Yi-kyung was in, all of your heads snapped up and Chan-young and Eun-yu rushed into the room. You stood up, hopping over to lean against the entrance when you slipped. 

Just as your hand missed grabbing the frame of the door, you felt an arm wrap around your waist and pull you back up. Turning your head to look at your savior, you were surprised to see Hyun-su with his arm supporting you and Ah-yi standing beside him, looking at you with just as surprised eyes as you were at her. The boy moved you so you were propped up against the door frame before he stepped into the room. 

“Could you step outside for a moment?” He asked the two as they stood beside Yi-kyung’s bed. They hesitated but eventually made their way out of the room. As Hyun-su walked up to the woman, leaning over her as she breathed raggedly, you wrapped your arms around Ah-yi and brought her into a hug. 

“Oh sweetie, I’m so sorry,” you expressed your condolences before pushing her away just enough so you could see her face. “How are you doing?” You asked her as you caressed her cheek and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. 

She shrugged her shoulders, looking away unconvincingly. “I’m fine. She hated me anyway. I only came for Oppa.”

You tsked and brought her back into your embrace. “You and I both know that’s not true.”

She didn’t respond and Hyun-su turned back to look at the two of you, motioning for Ah-yi to walk in. As she passed by you, you smoothed down the back of her hair and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. 

Hyun-su walked past her, letting her have her final moment alone with her mother on her deathbed. Instead, he walked over to you, wrapping his arm around your waist to help you walk as you all moved further down the hall to give the girl some space. Once he decided it was far away enough, he moved you over to the wall so you could lean against it and stood beside you. You leaned your head against his shoulder, wanting to give and gain comfort from the action. You all stayed there, silently, for a few minutes until Ah-yi walked down the hall. 

Hyun-su popped off the wall and she turned to face the two of you, mainly Hyun-su as he started to speak. “Why are you out here already?”

You leaned forward, grabbing onto his arm to support you as you looked at her. “You should stay with her a while longer,” you insisted softly. Her eyes fluttered down to where the medical tape peeked out above your shoe and the pant leg was taped in place around your calf before she fluttered her eyes back up to yours. 

“Mom’s not going to die. So stop crying, please.”

The way she said it gave you a bad feeling and the clattering that came from the direction of the room didn’t help to ease it. Hyun-su turned, making sure you were balanced before rushing over to the room. You glanced at Ah-yi before heading that direction as well, having Eun-yu and Chan-young help you.

“Yi-kyung!” You heard Hyun-su exclaim just as you all got to the doorway. When you looked into the room, you saw Hyun-su on the ground with Yi-kyung held in his arms while tears fell down his cheeks. 

You covered your mouth in horror as your own tears started to form. You stayed there, supported only by the door as you all cried over the loss of your friend. 

Your eyes shot open when you heard the sound of bones cracking. Her head was thrown backward and her back arched to the point where you were sure that was the bone-breaking sound you heard. The skin on the left side of her body started to turn black, almost as if ash had been painted across it. She started thrashing around, her body contorting inhumanely and her skin releasing a dark, unnatural smoke. As she rolled onto her stomach the bones in her back crunched loudly and she shot up. 

You barely had enough time to move out of the way before she ran into the door you were leaning on. Disoriented and dizzy, you couldn’t bring yourself to focus on what was happening around you until you heard the ringing of a gunshot and Yi-kyung’s half-monsterized body fell backward at the waist. 

“No, don’t do that!” Hyun-su screamed, rushing forward and moving Chan-young’s hands away while he held fast to the gun. 

“It’s too late for her. She’s already gone!” Chan-young yelled at him. 

You looked back at the woman to see the gunshot wound already gone, now covered with the same black markings that covered one half of her body. “H-Hyun-su,” you whimpered weakly and both men turned to look back at Yi-kyung. You let out a soft sob as you saw the tear slide down her face. 

“Yi-kyung,” Hyun-su whispered and she raised a hand toward him. Reaching for him, she started to walk forward before her other arm, the remaining human arm, reached out to grab her own hand, almost as if to pull her back. “You guys should go back,” he whispered to you all. “Take Lucky with you, she can’t walk on her own.”

“No! Not without you!” You protested but Hyun-su didn’t turn to face you. Eun-yu looked at you hesitantly before turning back to him. 

“What about Yi-kyung?” She let out through a sob. “How could she turn so suddenly? She wasn’t showing any symptoms.”

“Her daughter did this to her,” he explained hurriedly.

“Ah-yi…” you whispered in realization. 

“She turns people to monsters?” Chan-young questioned, still aiming the gun at Yi-kyung. “Monsterization is uncontrollable by humans.”

“She’s not a human,” you said lowly. 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Eun-yu screamed at you just as Yi-kyung rushed forward to jump out the window of the room behind you. 

“Leave! Now!” He yelled at them before jumping out the window after her. 

“Hyun-su, no!” You cried out, trying to lift yourself to your feet to no avail. Eun-yu and Chan-young, ran to the broken window, looking out as you continued to struggle. “Eun-yu!” You screamed at her and she turned around to face you with widened eyes. “Please! You have to help him! Don’t let him get hurt, please,” you begged her.

She nodded, determined. Turning to Chan-young, he nodded at her and they set off in the direction of the stairs to the bottom floor. 

You sat against the glass doors of the room Hyun-su was resting in. For the first hour, you were in there with him, holding him while he cried. After he fell asleep, though, you decided to give him some space. You waited outside, leaning your head back against the cool surface of the glass with your uninjured leg bent and held to your chest while the other was extended outward. 

Down the hall, you could see Eun-yu watching you until Chan-young approached her. You looked away as you saw them staring at you. Both had sympathy lacing their gazes that you couldn’t stand to see. Sympathy meant you had something they felt sympathetic towards. You didn’t want to think of what that thing was. All you wanted was to be back at your shed, doing laundry with Hyun-su while Ah-yi sat down on the edge of the river bank with her feet dipping into the water. 

But those days were over, at least for the time being.

“What are you gonna do now?” Park Chan-young asked Eun-yu, her gaze still locked onto your form curled up across the hallway. 

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I found her, and she’s alright. That’s good enough for me. I know she’s in good hands with Cha Hyun-su. I don’t want her to come back to the stadium with us. Not when she was so miserable there,” she told him, thinking for a moment before giving a conclusive answer. “I’m gonna wait for Hyun-su to wake up. I’ll wait with her until then. Then I’ll say my goodbyes and return to the stadium. You?”

“I should get back there,” he decided. “I’ve been gone for too long.”

She nodded in agreement. “Yeah.”

Chan-young gave a final look back at where you sat now with both your knees bent and your face buried in your arms. “Send them my regards, both of them,” he told her and she nodded up at him. “I’ll see you at camp.”

With a moment of hesitation, he turned in the direction of the stairs and started walking toward them. 

It had been a couple of hours since Hyun-su fell asleep. Eun-yu had dozed off about an hour ago but you couldn’t bring yourself to shut your eyes for too long. So you sat there, your eyes staring off into the distance, unfocused and blurred. It wasn’t until the sun started to set, the light shining through the blinds of the windows and casting a golden orange glow onto the tile floor that you snapped out of your daze. Carefully bringing yourself to a standing position, you turned around, opened the door, and walked through. Your eyes immediately went to where Hyun-su was previously lying down, but when you didn’t find him there, you panicked. Raising your eyes, you let out a breath of relief when you saw him sitting on the bed next to the windows, leaning back on his right arm and swaying slightly. 

“Hyun-su?” You asked softly but received no response. Walking closer, you saw his eyes were closed as he continued to sway. It seemed like he was barely conscious and his body kept falling right before he caught it, over and over again. Reaching the point that you were standing right in front of him, you reached up to place your hand on his right cheek, a feeling he immediately leaned into. “Oh, lovely,” you whispered. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

About to pull your hand away from his cheek to clear the pillows and blankets piled on the bed behind him, you stopped when his left hand shot up and grabbed onto your wrist, keeping you in place. Confused and concerned, you brought your other hand up to hold his other cheek. “Hyun-su?” You asked. “Are you okay?”

He slowly opened his eyes and you gasped once you saw them. 

You’d only seen him like this once before and it was after he protected you from a particularly strong monster. Halfway through the battle, all of his mannerisms changed and he moved completely differently. It wasn’t until the monster ran away, Hyun-su covered in its blood yet not a scratch on him, that you saw his eyes. 

You weren’t scared. You could never be scared. 

Not of him. 

Never of him. 

But it did surprise you. 

After he returned to his normal self, he told you about how he tried to never go into that state of being because he wasn’t in full control. Despite the honest way you told him he would never hurt you and that you trusted him, he still kept the monster side of him tucked away as much as possible. 

It seemed that wasn’t the case right now, though. 

“Why are you here?” You whispered to him, your voice not at all accusing or scared, not even a little bit tentative. 

“You don’t want me here?” He questioned. It was so strange to see Hyun-su’s body and hear Hyun-su’s voice but know it wasn’t him, at least not completely. 

“I didn’t say that,” you told him, your eyes lightly scolding him in a way that made his lips quirk. “I just asked why you were here. Is he…” you hesitated, still unsure of how to fully phrase questions when he was in this state. “Are you okay?”

“He’s hurt. Let him rest for a bit,” he explained as he leaned more into your palm. His grip on your wrist hadn’t been all too tight to begin with but it still softened to a loose hold as he kept eye contact with you. 

You nodded at his words, brushing your thumb along his cheekbone and your lips curving into a subtle smile when his eyes closed contently. “Is that why you’re here?” You whispered, not wanting to break the calm atmosphere. His eyes opened again and he stared at you. “To help him with the pain?” He nodded and you sighed. It wasn’t the physical pain on his body either of you meant, and you both knew that. The pain of losing Yi-kyung, and then losing her again at his own hands was too much for him. It most certainly would have been too much for you, so you couldn’t blame him. Not that you would have anyway.

He tightened the grip he had on your wrist and gently brought it away from his cheek before releasing it completely. He turned his head to look forward in the mirror in front of him and used the hand once holding your wrist to move the collar of his shredded jacket away from his shoulder. You winced as you saw the wounded skin there, bringing a hand up to do something but hesitating. Instead, you looked around the room before your eyes lit up as you found what you were looking for. You released his face from the hand still holding his cheek and turned around, taking a step forward with your good foot. He leaned forward, leaning off his right hand and using it to grab ahold of your wrist. You looked back at him. 

“Stay,” he said simply and you smiled.

“I’m not going far.”

He held onto your wrist for a while longer before softly sliding it down to the tips of your fingers and slowly releasing you, all the while keeping eye contact. You felt the heat rising to your cheeks and turned before he could tell how flustered you were at the simple action. Taking another step, you tried to hide the limp in your walk and mask the pain on your face as you grabbed the materials and returned to where he was seated. Setting the medical supplies down next to him, you reached for the pillow behind him and took off the pillowcase surrounding it. Grabbing the mostly empty bottle of rubbing alcohol, you poured some onto the pillowcase before using one hand to pull the collar away to reveal the dirty wound underneath. 

You raised your gaze to his eyes only to find them already looking back at you. “This’ll probably sting,” you told him sorrowfully. You waited a moment for him to acknowledge your words but he just continued to stare at you with a blank, yet almost soft, look. You used your other hand to hold the alcohol-soaked pillowcase and bring it up to his wound where you carefully started dabbing away the blood and dirt. Looking over at him every few seconds to see if he was in pain, you found none each time whilst he didn’t take his eyes off you. Once the blood was cleared away and the pillowcase was thoroughly stained, it was clear to see the wound was much smaller and less serious than it originally seemed. A fact that made you sigh in relief.  

Before you could reach for the bandages to cover his wound with, Hyun-su grabbed your waist and pulled you to stand in between his legs. 

“Wha-?” You started to question but stopped when his arms wrapped around your waist in a hug. His head turned to the side and he rested it against your stomach. It didn’t take long for you to return the hug, albeit a little confused and startled. 

“You know I love you, right?”

The sentence sounded slightly muffled, and you weren’t sure which version of Hyun-su was speaking, but regardless, you answered, “I know.”

His arms tightened around you, a comforting and promising squeeze. “And you know I’m never letting you go again,” he paused, turning to look up at you. It was both a surprise and yet not when you saw one of his eyes was still the bright blue he had in his monster form, but the other had returned to his natural brown. “Right?”

You placed your hands on his cheeks, leaning down to leave a tender kiss on his forehead. 

“I know.”

[vietcrepes]

moments with the sbg characters that made one of you wonder — is there more between you two?

◡ ✶ featuring: the main 6 from school bus graveyard

notice board: gn!reader as always, logan is ooc, so is aiden lowk, this is not my best work (💔), not proof read, mentions of food in logan taylor n tyler's part, the occasional swear word

◡ ✶ word count: im just a girl

୨୧ ASHLYN BANNER

you two were killing time before ashlyn's ballet lesson, although her mom was nowhere to be found. "shit, I need to do my hair" ashlyn muttered, returning to her room where you were scrolling through instagram. peeking behind the pillow you were rested against, a light bulb formed.

"I'll just do your hair, what could go wrong?" to be fair, you've had a fair amount of experience doing hair, and considering how long ashlyn's was, it'd either be a dream or nightmare to style. for your sake, let's say it was the former.

so that's how ashlyn landed sitting in front of you, sat between your legs as you attempted to replicate the hairstyle you'd seen ashlyns mom do so many times before. "thanks for doing this" she spoke up, her limbs felt frozen. she's very in tune with her emotions, but this one she couldn't figure out. why was she so nervous around you suddenly? it's not like this is anything new or out of her comfort zone. it's her hair, it's constantly being done by other people.

"it's no problem, you know im always there for you, right?" you stated, not thinking much of it, but ashlyns brain was put in overdrive. she tried rationalizing it, you were attractive. normal people are usually nervous and flustered around attractive people. yeah. that's exactly it. by the time you finished doing her hair, ashlyn had two explanations for what she was feeling. either she was just flustered by your kindness or she was flustered by you.

the last smile you sent her way answered which one it was as she entered ballet class with one question in mind, how?

‧˚₊꒷ click for the rest!

୨୧ AIDEN CLARK

"let's go to the fair" replayed in your mind as aiden clark dragged you to the brightly colored festivities. he had asked you at 6pm, when you had already decided to eat dinner and play games on your phone for the rest of the day. you trudged along, squeezing your eyes shut to adjust to the harsh lights.

your sordid mindset about the fair quickly changed in the face of the countless plushies and games to be won. sure, they were rigged, but who cares? you were getting ready to play your 4th game of the night when you felt a tug on your sleeve.

"let's go on that ride" aiden's eyes sparkled and had a shine brighter than any of the nauseating fair lights as he pointed to the biggest ride in the damn park. honestly, you should've known this was going to happen... it was only a matter of time

"aiden, no-" you paused, wondering how the hell you were going to talk aiden out of a premature death by rollercoaster. oddly enough, you didn't have to. aiden dropped your sleeve as he returned to helping you with whatever game you wanted to play, a smile dawning his face like always.

this cycle continued for the rest of the night, aiden trying to drag you to the insanely large rides, you declining in favor of something tamer or, even better, something that wasn't a ride at all. by the end of it you had managed to evade every death defying ride available. "well that was fun!" aiden said, looking up at the sky as the two of you headed home. your reply was laced with confusion, "even if you didn't get to ride those things from hell?" masked as a joke, it didn't take a genius to know that it was odd for aiden to listen to others so easily.

"who cares about some ride?" he said, kicking a rock that had come across his path, "I didn't go to the fair for the rides, I went there to hang out with you" the gesture was sudden, and you avoided looking at him due to the sudden nature.

"what the hell is wrong with you..." aiden only grinned further at your meager attempt at an insult "I'm great, what do you mean?"

୨୧ BEN CLARK

ben had recently broken his earbuds. it wasn't news to him, they were old but even with the damage it was still usable. soon enough, the daily annoyances that came with using anything broken got to him. today especially, as his earbuds were officially rendered useless and his mood turned sour.

as luck would have it, today was a free work day in class (aka do whatever the hell you want). while his other classmates chatted away, he was taking a nap. at least, he was. a post-it note hit his desk, and he quickly recognized your handwriting. 'you look like you've been in an off mood lately, so I got you a gift!' he failed to register just what the hell you meant until a brand new set of earbuds appeared in front of him.

looking up, he found you beaming down at him. he pulled out a pen, his mind running as he attempted to analyze what this could mean. you took a seat in the desk next to his and watched intently as ben unwrapped and got a feel for the new earbuds. they were nice quality, similar to his old ones but worlds better. it had been a well thought out, attentive, and all in all considerate gift. the more he registered what was happening the quicker his heart paced. he scribbled on the same post-it you had handed to him.

'thanks, i appreciate it'

୨୧ TAYLOR HERNANDEZ

you were exhausted, working at your family business had driven you insane and constantly picking up calls to be met with bitter temperament surely wasn't helping. you had just finished up a rather mundane task, and were ready to enjoy the few minutes of rest as you pulled out a book. unfortunately, the business phone rang. you groaned, dealing with people who couldn't even hear you properly through the ancient box that was the business phone was not your thing. you let the phone ring for a bit before answering, quickly going through the "how may I help you" line you've repeated countless times today.

"it's taylor hernandez, is Y/N working today?" the bright voice chirped, and you bit back a smile "this is Y/N, what do you need tay?" you leaned back in your chair.

"oh that's great! take a look outside" taylor abruptly hung up, leaving you confused as you glanced through the windows. there, in all her glory, was taylor holding a bag of your favorite food place. you knew she was working at her mechanics shop that day, so why would she go out of her way to spend her lunch break (and money) on you? the questions were left unanswered as taylor walked in, beaming and graciously handing you the bag.

a quick glance and you recognized it, your exact order from this place. you never recalled telling taylor what your regular order was, but you didn't have the opportunity to ask questions as she was gone as quickly as she came. your relatives and the regulars quickly swarmed you with questions. namely "is that your girlfriend?" obviously, you had denied all the allegations, but you couldn't ignore the part of your brain that wanted to tell them that you two were dating.

୨୧ TYLER HERNANDEZ

you and tyler weren't close, but the two of you were tasked with a quick snack run since the seven of you had emptied the kitchen in aidens house. it was comfortable silence, and you briskly walked to the nearby convenience store, hands in your pockets to ensure you wouldn't lose the precious money given to you. all was going as expected, idle chat filling the physical space between you two until tyler slowed his pace.

he grabbed your arm, his hold gentle and his eyes directed away from you, as he moved behind and next to you. now, he was walking next to the bustling traffic and you were trailing behind, dazed and confused.

"what are you doing? hurry up before aiden starts texting me complaints" tyler called back, clearing his throat and covering a part of his face. if you looked closely enough, you could see a dark red hue resting on his ears.

"right, sorry" you mutter in apology before going on to talk about which candies to get. a part of your brain didn't move on from the event that had occurred though, and the fluttering feeling you felt only confirmed things further; you fucked around and found out (caught feelings).

୨୧ LOGAN FIELDS

the two of you had decided to a bit of research on possible explanations and something logical behind the phantom realm you'd found yourself in. countless websites had been pulled up, and a quick trip to the library had proven fruitless, ending up with the two of you getting some food to raise your spirits.

as you nibbled away at your cookie, you scribbled nonsensically. "find something?" logan asked, joining you on his bedroom floor. "yeah, a really bad drawing of a phantom" you said, ripping the page out of your notepad and passing it to him. you sighed, ruffling your hair as your brain reached mental capacity.

mindlessly brushing off any possible cookie crumbs from your face, you redirected your attention to the only website that has given much of any information about your situation. it was bleak, but it was better than nothing. "you missed something" logan pointed out, and your eyes darted through the website, hoping for some new discovery. you were only met with his smile as he reached his hand up to brush away the crumbs you had missed in your haste.

"... oh" you said, swatting away his hand as he laughed, both of you having pink hues that were blissfully dismissed. after all, you two were just friends. but it was odd, how that moment had led to you both being clumsy in the midst of the groups midnight adventures, and how everyone had noticed how the air shifted between you two.

writers note: referenced red's Instagram stories for ashlyns bit and it helped a ton 😭 some of these have happened to me irl but I had to change things up a bit to keep it interesting 😷 hopefully it turned out good enough tho, I got carried away with aiden's bit. i dedicated my entire soul into this Tumblr algorithm do me a favor and my life is yours

ೀ ׅ ۫ . ㅇ requests are open ⁺ ✦ ᰍ̠

‧˚₊꒷ likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[stormyelliotwritez]

fic where ftm reader is logan’s gay (re)awakening when he sees r in his 2000 pickup truck blasting old rock in his flannel and jeans and logan just heart eyes and needs to be with this man Immediately.

(i say reawakening bc lets be real hes like 200 he mightve already realized hes a 🚬 before but needed like. a reminder)

AAAAAAHHHHHH literally my fav trope ever - i did a similar one to this btw called logan and his hot guy friend - also i made reader a handyman type guy coz funsies

He may be a bit ooc but i ain’t sure

i need to get more photos coz i keep reusing them

Old rock and a 2000’s pickup truck? 😍

It had been a long long day and Logan was walking home from the job he’d gotten after all that multiverse shit when a 2000’s pickup truck parked at the lights. He walked up next to it and raised an eyebrow as he heard the music. It was old rock or dad rock as Wade would say. He walked past the window and saw you. You were wearing a red flannel and faded blue jeans. He’d almost forgotten what it was like to like a guy.

He wandered home in a daze, only thinking about you in that pick up truck. Wade asked him if something was wrong and he couldn’t even answer. He just mumbled a no and then grabbed a beer. You looked so good in that flannel. He only saw you for a moment but you were his type alright.

A few days later, he took the same route home, hoping he’d see you and he did. You were parked this time with tools in the backseat. Against his better judgement, he walked up to your window and tapped on it. And against your better judgement, you rolled the window down and smiled at him.

“Your truck is a beauty,” he said with a smile.

“Thanks, I fixed her up myself,” you said back before patting the dashboard lovingly.

Logan took a glance at the tools in the back of your truck and chuckled to himself. “You a handyman?”

You nodded. “Guilty as charged. You needing something fixed?”

He chuckled. “Well now that I think of it, we’ve had a dodgy tap recently, my roommate and I.”

You chuckled and nodded. “I could drop by and see if it’s an easy fix?”

“Yeah, that’d be great, bub. We just live in the top apartment at the building with the blue door just over there so feel free to drop by whenever.”

You nodded and smiled again. “Well I gotta be off. I’ll drop by tomorrow.”

Logan smiled and waved as you drove off. He pumped his fist in the air, mimicking Wade, and grinned. Hell yeah, he was gonna get to see you again.

He walked back to the apartment and this time, he grabbed a beer and joined Wade on the couch. “You gotta skedaddle tomorrow so go work or something,” was all he said to Wade before the soccer game started.

The next day, Logan stayed home and made sure Wade was out the door by 8. The clock struck 10 and you knocked on the door like well… clockwork. He quickly opened the door and let you in.

“Hey, you’re here,” he smiled, “wasn’t sure if you’d turn up.”

You smiled and held up your bag. “Well I like getting paid.”

“And I like getting my tap fixed.”

You got to work and soon enough, you’d found the problem. You fixed it and when you stood up, Logan was standing in the doorway. He had a grin on his face and a beer in each hand. You hadn’t noticed how hot he was before but now he was standing there, wearing a white singlet and a brown flannel and looking super duper hot.

“That for me?”

He nodded and handed it over. “For a job well done, bub. And I’ll pay you as well of course.”

The two of you sat down and both had a beer. A bit after Logan finished his, he grabbed the money and handed it over. You stood up and contemplated leaving before turning back to him and chuckling awkwardly.

“You seeing anyone?”

Logan smiled and shook his head. “Thought you’d never ask, bub.”

You sat back down and leaned towards him, a smile on your lips. “Would you want to be seeing someone?”

“Is that someone you because I would love to be seeing you,” he said with a smirk as he leaned towards you.

When you leaned backwards and stretched, your shirt rode up and he saw your binder. He nodded to himself and leaned in a bit closer. “Haven’t dated a guy in a while so you wanna break me in again? We could listen to some rock?”

You chuckled and licked your lips before standing up and pulling your chair to next to him. You sat back down and shamelessly grabbed ahold of his hand and ran your fingers over it. “Absolutely, handsome.”

[dmitriene]

THOUGHTS ABOUT PRICE AND PREFERRING SITTING ON HIS LAP OFTEN.

cw: tooth rotting fluff, comfort, slightly suggestive, established relationship, lap sitting, flirty teasing, pet names, touching, intimacy, kinda cuddling, male anatomy, hard on, hints on blowjob, desperation and horny price, reader doesn't have gender description in the story, john might be ooc since he's wearing a glasses. pairing: bf john price x gf fem reader

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄

there was something in john’s thighs that attracted you every time, like an affectionate yard kitten, to the lap of a passing person.

of course, the point is not at all in how attractive his muscular, wide thighs look in his military cargo pants or jeans, in which the second only further emphasizes how wide and soft his thighs are, and his light home shorts reveal them fully every time, making them even plusher, exposing dark thick hair hiding a scattering of healed scars underneath.

a great place to sit down.

therefore, you can never resist climbing onto the limp muscles, just at the moment when he smokes his usual cigars on the viranda, thick clouds of smoke dissolve with a tart smell around his figure when he holds a half open book with his free hand, glasses on the tip of his nose, not a necessary necessity, but convenient in order to preserve his eyesight, slightly weakened with age and military service.

john feels your presence almost immediately, as soon as the door opens slightly, albeit almost silently, but he clings to the slight shuffling of steps, and intuitively raises his hand with the book just when you fall into his arms, plopping your butt right on his rounded thighs, feeling how the muscles beneath you tense before relaxing, and a heavy hand traces the curve of your hip and waist, thick fingers tenderly squeezing the skin over the fabric of your light clothing.

— “feeling comfy, sweetheart?„

he purrs with a hint of hoarseness and a chesty, amusing grumble, blowing thick smoke through his nose and rings through his lips, letting the smoke rise up from his mustache and dissolve in the light breeze, blue eyes narrow as he examines you, familiarly running a warm palm along your leg and to the hip bone, tracking your satisfied purr with a smirk on his lips, corners of his lips hiding under facial hair.

— “very much so„

you answer sincerely and satisfactorily, settling on his lap with a slight fidgeting of your butt on his thighs, pressing against his wide chest with comfort and fluttering eyelashes, when you look into his blue eyes, cold in color, but so warm when he looks at you, despite at your sly squint and the way you move soft touches over his chest and to his thighs, outlining the skin with your fingers, as if planning something.

and john will know what excatly very soon, when you'll imposingly rise from your usual comfortable place only to kneel in front of him, settling between his already spread legs, not looking at the slight discomfort in his knees from the wooden surface of the veranda, completely concentrating on his darting gaze and slightly nervous swallowing when you place soft palms on his thighs and move them, causing his hairs to stand on end while your face getting closer.

he rolls his head back with a slight chesty growl and a scratch of his beard when you, so charmingly cunning, nose yourself between his legs, poking into his wide thigh and very close to his crotch, where under shorts and boxers swells and throbs from your mere presence next to him and a reverent gesture in his direction, holding him on the edge almost all the time, and now only further inflaming the feelings seething inside him.

a heavy hand rests right on the top of your head to gently stroke your hair, lightly scratching and moving towards your face, cupping with one palm and gently tickling the skin near your ears with the callous pads of his fingers, while you lean towards the touch, catching notes of tart tobacco and light woodiness, a characteristic, relaxing aroma, and he sees how your facial features soften into absolute limpness, lazily fluttering your eyelashes and causing a slight chuckle in your direction.

— “looking adorable down there, darling, hope you're enjoying this position, eh?„

he earns a meek nod and an almost sleepy — “mhhmm„ in his direction, before you press yourself tighter, not into his palm, but into the skin of his leg, creeping further, closer to his crotch, and john fidgets slightly uncomfortably, not from your actions, but from not wanting you to notice his obvious arousal, although this is pretty noticeable in the dark pupils enveloping the blue of his eyes and in the way his eyelids become heavy, his eyelashes cast a shadow over his eyes, and the bulging silhouette of his cock enthusiastically rubs against the fabric of his shorts and press into the barrier.

you will definitely repay him in full later, but for now you will remain a little longer in the same place, where his legs themselves slightly squeeze together, squeezing you slightly between them, rolling pleasant sensations across your skin, and you lick your lips, not immediately registering his strangled, breathy sigh in response to your actions and how much tighter you are pressed against him, your parted lips practically where he burns and demands, but he waits, patiently, until then he allows a quietly grumbled word to slip from his lips — “killing me, all looking like that, shi'..„ before john takes another drag from his almost finished cigar, calming himself, as you smile to yourself in response to his words.

you will definitely take care of him, just a little later, promise, john.

[qingxin-dream]

“The Afterparty”

summary | lyney is the face of fontaine’s entertainment industry, stealing hearts with every flourish of his magic. however, in the night, lyney tends to entertain a different kind of crowd.

warnings | written pre-4.0, ooc lyney, light yandere themes (stalking/manipulation/obsession), a sprinkle of smut (creampie/implied dubcon) [18+, MDNI], brief mention of drugs/alcohol, reader is neutral but wears a dress, lyney uses a little french

genre | yandere, slight smut

word count | 1.6k

pairing | lyney x reader

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

It’s no mystery that the Great Magician of Fontaine is a man of many talents. His shows are famous across Teyvat for their grandeur and flare. Beautiful venues draped in red curtains frame the scene before a sea of velvety theater seats, skilled acrobats maneuver themselves among rings suspended in the air. Blazes of fire erupt from the stage dramatically. A master of misdirection, the audience falls for his tricks every time as he effortlessly makes the impossible possible.

Lyney is incredibly perceptive. He knows how to read people, as a showman can read his audience, a small smug smile crinkling the corner of his eyes if you’re paying attention. It’s an art form—the way he flips through the pages of your soul, licking his fingers to reveal the next juicy detail with ease. Rarely ever does anyone truly surprise someone as cynical as him, who has been personally privy to the vile nature of the Fatui.

A life of fame is never kind to anyone. The planning and training for shows is incredibly rigorous. Executing the stunts in front of a live audience is equally thrilling and terrifying. Without fail, the crowd is mesmerized and the show ends in a shower of roses and marriage proposals. Rinse and repeat. Though, this is only what Lyney allows the public to know of him.

It’s after hours, when the theater is empty and the stage is dim, when the mask begins to slip.

Lyney is the lead, the star, and as such he maintains his appearance by rubbing elbows with the elite of Fontaine. You’d never catch him amid the nightlife of the city, no. You wouldn’t believe the sheer grandeur of the dazzling, flamboyant parties thrown every night at the country’s largest mansions.

It was Arlecchino who insisted that he attends these lavish parties, rampant with the city’s darkest vices between drugs, alcohol, and sex. But Lyney is a cynical man, so this much is to be expected of wealthy aristocrats.

It was all a façade, couldn’t they see? It sickened him, how gullible people were and how obsessed they were with status. Not to mention the inevitable hordes of women who threw themselves at him.

Nevertheless, Lyney played the game well and with a bewitching, handsome smile. Eventually he had learned to take pleasure in this little game.

As fate would have it, you let your friend convince you to crash one of these extravagant parties with them. You had heard whispers of what takes place at night behind the golden gates of Fontaine’s richest residences. Why wouldn’t you want to have a taste of the finest wine, dressed in designer, getting lost in the magnificent corridors of a packed mansion of partygoers?

It’s something straight from the movies.

You emerged from the bushes to sneak inside, which wasn’t that difficult surprisingly. You wore your best dress, not knowing what to expect. It was a floor length, silky black dress with a sexy slit that traveled all the way up to your mid-thigh. You had a lovely string of pearls dangling from your pretty neck. A classic choice.

Unfortunately for you, Lyney is a man who is extremely attentive to his surroundings. After all, an illusionist must be a master of his environment as well. The moment he spots you, a mere reflection of something new and fascinating for him to discover, he gravitates to you smoothly.

“Mm, I don’t believe we’ve met,” his voice is an alluring, a well-practiced approach. Before you could even answer, Lyney had already taken note of your little mannerisms and nuances just in these few passing moments. He had already adjusted the figurative mirrors of misdirection in this little trick, assuring your undivided attention.

You glance to your friend, who isn’t there. Oh. You had been cornered without even the opportunity to explore the party.

More of a wallflower type, you found yourself struggling to conjure up a confident answer. You were acutely aware of who this gentleman is, and his egotistical demeanor was already a huge turn off.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know who I am,” he chuckled lightheartedly, yet there was a peculiar undertone hidden beneath. It was hard to place. He kisses your hand. “Lyney, the Great Magician.”

You withdrew your hand, unable to hide the way your eyebrows crinkled together with disinterest. Perhaps you should’ve been more prepared for these guests to be more brazen and unapologetic when they see something—or someone—they want.

Taking no for an answer is not even in the realm of possibility for these people.

The party continued on, gorgeous partygoers dancing and drinking to their heart’s content. All the while, Lyney kept his eyes trained on you. It wasn’t necessarily out of admiration; rather, it was curiosity. Why didn’t you bat your eyelashes at him like a good girl? Bite your lip when he kissed your hand?

He followed you like a ghost, slinking through the crowd tactfully to observe you. You were a rare creature indeed. None of the other women could hold a candle to you. Archons, he felt this unsettling churning in his stomach everyone your glimmering irises met his. His heart would tense instantaneously, threatening to explode within his chest.

You saw through Lyney from the moment he kissed your hand, and he hated it.

Through the night, you both danced this delicate tango around the massive mansion, a palpable tension tethering him to you. He was equally appalled and fascinated by you, never wasting any opportunity to slip in an innocent question or two to learn about you.

“A beautiful lady like you in a place like this… Do you feel lost in Wonderland yet, Alice?” Lyney had persuaded you to follow him to an unoccupied balcony, closing the French doors behind him.

He stalks toward you, his soft lavender irises cool and calculated. In an ashy flourish of embers, a deck of onyx cards materialized in his gloved hands. It had taken all evening, but just enough wine had passed beyond your lips to give Lyney the opportunity to disarm you.

“Not scared of a little fire, are you, love?” His voice was warm and inviting as a hearth, though it held a hint of mischief like that of a crackling inferno. Each mysterious card in his hand is shuffled with a distinct flick.

You were much more susceptible to his charm now more than ever, allowing him to weave glittering silk strands of harmless sweet nothings to entice you. Had you taken a step back, you would’ve seen the web for what it is. The grand reveal was imminent.

“Now, now, don’t fret. I won’t let anything harm you, chérie,” Lyney chuckles lightheartedly, as if he hadn’t been playing and pawing at you like a cat ready to pounce all night.

Your poor little breath hitched at every whisper and touch he gifted you. It started by fatefully picking the Queen of Hearts from his custom deck of cards. You should’ve known better. Maybe you should’ve picked the one next to it. Maybe it wouldn’t have mattered.

Lyney’s lilac eyes spark with intrigue at your choice. How fitting. Had you paid any attention to the magician’s sneaky maneuvers, you would have seen that every card in the deck was from the suite of Hearts.

The illusion of choice.

He takes this as an opportunity to step closer, his hands reaching forward. Your chest is beating wildly, begging for relief from how he intoxicates you with just a flutter of his long lashes.

Lyney rests his hands on the marble railing on either side of your hips, drinking in your anticipation, your fear, and your desire. A small, smug smirk pulls at the corner of his pretty lips. He takes the liberty of helping you meet his gaze by bringing his wrist to his mouth, white teeth tugging to remove his glove. Your body feels weightless when he lifts your chin with his bare index finger and thumb.

The Great Magician would argue that he took extreme precautions to ensure the success of this escapade. It was all carefully calculated and orchestrated according to his whim. He had you exactly where he wanted you, blissfully unaware of how deep these exhilarating feelings for you had rooted themselves into his guarded heart.

“Do you feel the magic in my fingertips? Hehe, tonight’s show will be a private event for only for you, mon trésor.”

The night was a blur. Fading in and out of consciousness, one moment you were dancing with him in empty halls and the next you were enveloped in his embrace against a wall. Lyney would pin your hands above your head before pushing you onto the bed, catapulting you into his next breathtaking trick like one of the acrobats in his show.

The silhouettes of your frames were shadowed in the moonlight that bathed the sheets in silver. Lyney skillfully unzipped your dress. Clothes fell to the wayside, vanishing in a flourish of passion. There was no denying it. He had to have you, and you were such a willing participant in his performance.

Of course, the wealthy partygoers were none the wiser, the echoes of pleasure the Great Magician was able to rip from your lungs were easily deafened by the music of their own opulent fantasies.

What is a magician if not an artist who must mark what is rightfully his—painting your womb with a decadent display, a growl escaping his throat.

However, Lyney is a perfectionist. When he catches a glimpse of his seed spilling out of you, he is quick to stuff his slender fingers into your overstimulated hole and seal the masterpiece with a final kiss on your bruised lips.

“Magnifique…” ❤️

thanks for reading! reblogs are appreciated! my masterlist.

[ryuzakistoe]

Empty Crown (Michael Kaiser x Fem!reader)

Angst, angst with no happy ending (sadly), mentioning of Kaisers past, fem!reader, Michael Kaiser, language, sports journalist {reader}, intimate kissing, smuttt, finger fucking, breast fucking, bedroom sex, body pleasure/worship, manipulation kink, vaginal sex and the usual smut stuff, arguing

a/n: I've seen a bunch of Kaiser edits on my fyp recently so…

I think this is longer than my Sae one i believe. Also its kind of hard trying to keep Kaiser from being ooc..

_______

(no song either)

She had always been captivated by the idea of uncovering a player's true feelings—their raw, unfiltered intentions. It wasn’t just the game that intrigued her but the psychology behind it: how they felt under pressure, how they prepared for battle, how they devised strategies to secure victory. It was a puzzle she never tired of solving. 

Her career had already brought her face-to-face with some of the biggest names in sports, particularly soccer. But today, she was in Germany, seated across from a man whose reputation transcended the field—a man known as "God's Chosen Emperor." To say she found him fascinating would be a gross understatement. 

But her curiosity wasn’t limited to the shiny veneer of titles or the glory his name commanded. No, what truly intrigued her was the truth lurking behind the gilded facade. Who was he beneath the crown? What did his victories cost him? What emotions stirred beneath that composed exterior?

He smirked, his confidence radiating like an aura, as his piercing eyes studied her from across the table. His gaze flickered briefly to the pen in her hand, moving in sharp, deliberate strokes as she jotted down notes in the folder resting on her lap. The room crackled with an unspoken tension—one born of his arrogance and her relentless pursuit of the truth.

"So, Kaiser—or should I say Michael Kaiser—how does the excitement, the thrill of making those goals with that inhuman kick of yours, make you feel on the field?" she asked, her tone even but her eyes sharp. She lifted her head, her gaze locking onto him with purpose as her pen hovered just above the paper, poised to catch every word. 

Kaiser leaned back in his chair, his grin widening, as though the question was a cue for him to bask in his own legend. Of course, it felt good—no, better than good. For the self-proclaimed "king" of the pitch, every goal was another piece moved in his personal game of chess. Every calculated strike, every triumphant roar of the crowd was proof of his dominion. Confidence, skill, and a charm that bordered on arrogance made him untouchable, both on and off the field. 

He thrived on the adoration of fans, the envy of rivals, and the weight of the crown he so proudly wore. Each goal was a reminder of his superiority, a validation of his reign. So naturally, they brought him pleasure.

"Y/n L/n, wasn’t it?" he said, his voice smooth, laced with the kind of pride that made his name synonymous with greatness. His smile, sharp and practiced, creased his eyes as he leaned forward slightly. "To answer your question, those goals feel... exhilarating," he said, drawing out the word like it was a secret only he truly understood. 

Her brow arched, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. "Exhilarating, you say? And how, exactly, does that feel for someone like you?" she pressed, her tone deceptively casual. 

Kaiser chuckled, his grin deepening. This was a game he was all too familiar with—a battle of wits as much as words. And just like on the field, he had no intention of losing.

Kaiser leaned back into the chair with an air of effortless confidence. "Exhilarating in a way that makes me feel exemplary, of course," he said, his voice smooth, almost lazy, as if the answer was obvious. "Like I'm the only one on the field, and all the lights are directed at me." His words carried the weight of someone who thrived on being the center of the universe.

Y/n nodded, her pen gliding swiftly across the paper as she recorded his response. "Do you believe you’re the only one capable of such outstanding goals?" she asked, her tone neutral but her eyes sharp, gauging his reaction.

Kaiser’s grin widened, his signature arrogance gleaming like a polished trophy. "Well, of course," he replied, as if the question itself was redundant.

She hummed thoughtfully, acknowledging his answer while continuing to write. Then, after a calculated pause, she glanced up. "Say... people have been wondering. Why did you start playing soccer? Was it just a childhood hobby that turned into a career, or was there something deeper behind it?"

For the briefest moment, his smirk faltered. It was subtle—almost imperceptible—but not to her. She caught it instantly, her keen eye trained to spot the cracks beneath even the most carefully constructed facades. This was why she thrived in her line of work: not for the surface-level answers, but for the truths that slipped through the gaps, the ones people didn’t mean to reveal.

She lived for the unraveling. For the moments when masks slipped and raw humanity peeked through, unguarded. Truths that couldn’t be packaged for headlines or social media clout. Truths that even the interviewee might not fully recognize until they heard themselves say it.

She waited, her pen hovering, her silence a subtle push. Would Kaiser retreat behind his armor of arrogance, or would he crack under the weight of her question?

She was relentless. Every question, every glance, was calculated. She didn’t just want answers—she wanted the truth. The person beneath the accolades and bravado. To her, interviews were more than conversations; they were excavations. And if breaking someone’s polished exterior was what it took to uncover their real identity, she was willing to do it.

That fleeting crack in Kaiser’s smirk had barely formed before it repaired itself, his composure snapping back into place. "I guess it was just a childhood game I grew to enjoy," he said smoothly. "Well, it was the only thing I did enjoy back in my childhood years."

She tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing in subtle curiosity. "The only thing you enjoyed back then? How so?" she asked, her voice light, but her intent razor-sharp.

Kaiser’s grin didn’t waver, but there was something guarded in the way he adjusted his posture. He was a master of deception, a pathological liar wrapped in layers of charm and self-assuredness. Few could see through the dense fog of lies he spun. At first glance, he appeared invincible—strong, untouchable. But beneath the sheen of arrogance lay a man who feared vulnerability more than failure. A man who had built walls so high, even he seemed unsure what lay behind them.

Crossing one leg over the other, he leaned back, his elbow propped on the armrest, his hand resting against his cheek as though the question was of little consequence. "It was just something I found fun," he replied, his tone casual, practiced. "The cool tricks I saw—and later mastered—with the soccer ball never failed to impress me. It kept me inspired, in a way."

Her pen paused mid-stroke, her gaze never leaving him. His answer was polished, the kind of response that would satisfy most interviewers. But she wasn’t most interviewers. The careful detachment in his tone, the calculated ease of his posture—it was all too perfect. Too rehearsed.  

She leaned forward slightly, her pen hovering over the page. "Inspired?" she echoed softly, her voice carrying the kind of weight that dared him to elaborate. She didn’t need to push hard; the cracks in his mask were already there. All she had to do was wait.

Y/N’s pen moved steadily across the page, her practiced precision unbroken. Yet something about his tone, his carefully curated demeanor, set off a quiet alarm in her mind. The answer he gave wasn’t wrong, exactly, but it felt... off. She couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but it didn’t sit right.  

She prided herself on her ability to read people, to sift through the layers of their words and find the truths buried underneath. So why was the man in front of her so hard to decipher?  

Her hand froze mid-sentence as her brows knit together in thought, her sharp eyes narrowing as she studied him, trying to unravel the threads of his performance. But after a brief moment, she resumed writing, forcing herself to focus, even as her instincts whispered that something was being deliberately concealed.  

Unbeknownst to her, Kaiser’s gaze remained fixed on her, his grin widening ever so slightly with each passing second. Amusement flickered in his eyes like a spark threatening to ignite. He could tell she was struggling, and he loved it. Watching someone so perceptive, someone with a reputation for cracking even the toughest facades, falter in his presence? It was thrilling.  

Kaiser thrived on this—on games, on control, on keeping everyone around him unbalanced. He’d done his homework on her, of course. Well, technically, his "buddy" had. He knew all about the headlines she’d made, exposing the untold truths of players far less guarded than he was. She was clever, skilled, and dangerously persistent.  

But Kaiser was no ordinary interview subject. He had perfected the art of manipulation, and one thing he relished above all else was the sport of toying with people. Watching them scramble, watching them doubt themselves, only to realize too late that he’d been pulling the strings all along.  

And right now? The woman in front of him was another game he intended to win.  

He relished the feeling of holding people in the palm of his hand, their pride crumbling beneath his calculated words. There was a unique satisfaction in breaking egos, in bending others to his will. Control wasn’t just a tool to him—it was an art form. And soon, he decided, Y/N would be another masterpiece in his growing collection.  

But she wasn’t so easily swayed. A faint shake of her head seemed to clear whatever troubled thoughts had momentarily clouded her focus. Her pen stilled, and her eyes locked onto his, sharp and unyielding. "So, Kaiser," she began, her tone precise, cutting through the air like a blade. "It’s impossible not to notice how you’ve surpassed and crushed your rivals. But tell me, do you ever get tired of playing the villain?"  

Her question struck like a well-placed shot, catching him off guard. For a moment, the silence between them stretched taut. He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he studied her, his eyes narrowing as if she were a puzzle he hadn’t yet solved. Then, as the tension reached its peak, a grin broke across his previously expressionless face, slow and deliberate.  

"No," he said finally, his voice low but firm. "Never."  

He took pride in being the villain in other people’s stories. To him, the title was a badge of honor, a mark of his ability to dominate and destroy. Being the villain gave him permission—no, purpose—to crush people without restraint. To watch their downfall unfold, step by step, especially when he was the architect of their demise.  

His grin deepened, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous amusement. "The villain," he continued, leaning forward slightly, "always wins in the end, don’t you think?"  

༻♕༺

Kaiser tilted his head back, the cool water cascading down his throat as he chugged the bottle Ness had handed him. His Adam’s apple bobbed with each swallow, and when he was done, he let out a satisfied sigh, setting the bottle down with a soft clink.  

"That girl... she’s annoyingly perceptive," he muttered, almost to himself.  

Ness, seated beside him on the bench overlooking the empty football field, turned his head sharply at the comment. His brows furrowed. "Girl? You mean that journalist from earlier?" he asked, his tone tinged with curiosity.  

Kaiser hummed in response, his gaze fixed on the field as if the game were still unfolding in his mind. "Yeah, her."  

For a moment, Ness hesitated, his teeth worrying at the inside of his cheek. He debated whether to ask the question lingering on his mind. Finally, he caved, his voice quieter than before. "What... what do you mean by ‘annoyingly perceptive’?"  

Kaiser didn’t answer right away. His eyes flicked toward Ness, studying him briefly before turning back to the horizon. A small smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, a flicker of amusement and unease mingling in his expression.  

"She might just figure me out," he said, his voice carrying a rare hint of vulnerability beneath the usual confidence. His smirk deepened as he added, almost as an afterthought, "My past, I mean."  

Ness blinked, caught off guard by the admission. Kaiser never talked about his past—it was a subject shrouded in mystery, just like the man himself. He opened his mouth to press further but hesitated, the weight of Kaiser’s words lingering between them like an unspoken challenge.  

Ness’s eyes widened at Kaiser’s response, panic flickering across his face. "B-but Kaiser, wouldn’t that be bad? She could expose you! What if she digs up all your personal information and reveals it to the public—"

"You don’t think I know that, Ness?" Kaiser interrupted smoothly, his smirk remaining intact. If anything, it only widened.  

A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he turned to face Ness, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Don’t you get it, Ness? It’ll be fun."  

Ness blinked, his growing unease evident in the way his shoulders stiffened. "Kaiser…"  

But Kaiser wasn’t finished. His voice carried an almost playful edge, one that made Ness’s skin crawl. "It’ll be entertaining to watch someone so desperate try to figure me out. And even more fun to lead her astray—with nothing but lies."  

Ness remained silent, his lips pressed into a thin line. He knew better than to interrupt when Kaiser was on a roll.  

"I’ll manipulate her," Kaiser continued, his tone almost gleeful. "Toy with her, twist her perception until she doesn’t know what’s real anymore. I’ll use her like a puppet, feeding her one lie after another, watching as she clings to every word."  

He laughed, the sound low and rich, as though the thought alone was enough to entertain him. The image of Y/N caught in his web, entirely at his mercy, sent a thrill through him.  

"Wouldn’t that be exhilarating, Ness?" he asked, his voice carrying a dangerous undercurrent.  

Ness swallowed hard, unsure how to respond. The gleam in Kaiser’s eyes was unsettling, and though he knew better than to challenge him, a quiet unease settled in the pit of his stomach.

Ness swallowed hard, the lump in his throat refusing to go down. The way Kaiser looked at him—eyes alight with excitement, yet darkened by something almost sinister—sent a chill crawling up his spine. The sheer thrill Kaiser seemed to derive from his schemes was unnerving, but Ness knew better than to voice his discomfort.  

All he could do was nod. Agreeing with Kaiser’s antics, no matter how twisted, was easier than opposing him. He’d long since learned that resistance only amused Kaiser further.  

It had been a while since Ness had seen his idol take such a keen interest in something—or, more accurately, someone. Kaiser rarely fixated on individuals; people were disposable to him, fleeting sources of entertainment at best. But now, it seemed, he’d found a new toy.  

Ness’s stomach churned at the thought. He’d seen it before: the way Kaiser broke people down, piece by piece, until they were little more than playthings to him. And yet, this time felt different. There was a dangerous spark in Kaiser’s eyes, an almost childlike glee at the prospect of unraveling someone so clever, so perceptive.  

It wouldn’t be long now. Kaiser’s newest "interest" would soon find themselves caught in his web, and Ness could already foresee the chaos that would follow.

༻♕༺

He always knew where she’d be. Her schedule, the events she’d attend—it was all too easy to track. With that knowledge in his back pocket, he’d find her in the crowd, scanning for her familiar figure among the sea of faces, certain she was either there or just a few steps away.  

It was strange, he thought. Putting in this much effort for someone—it wasn’t his usual style. But something about her, something about the way she moved through the world, made it impossible not to seek her out.  

And today, she was at a press conference. Of course, he’d be there too.

Kaiser approached her quietly, his footsteps soft as the press conference wrapped up, the chatter of departing attendees filling the air. She was engaged in conversation with someone—an individual who radiated importance. The man wore a sharp suit and tie, paired with glasses from an expensive brand, and a watch that spoke of wealth and status. He practically screamed high-profile.  

Kaiser tapped her shoulder lightly, interrupting their exchange, and she immediately turned to face him.  

Their eyes met, and what struck him was the lack of surprise in her gaze. There was no shock, no flurry of confusion—just calm recognition, as though she’d been expecting him all along.  

She wasn’t blind. She had seen him at every event she attended, at first dismissing it as coincidence. But now, after so many encounters, she could no longer deny the truth.  

Kaiser had been following her.  

Y/N knew what that meant. She knew that no one in their right mind stalked someone without a reason. And she was certain Kaiser didn’t do anything without a purpose. Whatever game he was playing, she knew she was a part of it.

Y/N’s curiosity burned brighter than ever. She was determined to uncover Kaiser’s intentions, to see what game he was playing this time.  

"Kaiser, it's great to see you," she said with a calm smile, her attention fully on him now.  

Kaiser’s smirk only deepened at her greeting. "I can say the same thing, Ms. Journalist," he teased, his voice smooth and laced with a playful challenge.  

He studied her, his eyes raking over her with deliberate intent. She was attractive, no doubt about it. But Kaiser’s mind was on something else entirely. Her appearance didn’t matter to him in this moment; his goal was simpler—to get under her skin, to make her unravel, to watch her crumble before him.  

"Would you look at you?" He took a step closer, his tone shifting to something more dangerous. "You look irresistible, Ms. Y/N."  

The words hung in the air as he leaned in, inching ever closer, his presence all-consuming. "Are you trying to seduce the men here? If so, it’s working," he murmured, his breath grazing her ear.  

Y/N’s eyebrow arched, but she didn’t flinch. Instead, she took a step back, putting some distance between them. She wasn’t intimidated. She knew Kaiser all too well—his charm, his power over people. He could have anyone kneel before him in seconds, and it was the one thing he loved to brag about.  

But she was perceptive of him. She’d seen through his games before. She wasn’t about to let him win that easily.

A small laugh escaped her lips, and she shook her head, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Sorry, Kaiser. That’s not going to work on me."  

For the briefest moment, his teasing smirk faltered, replaced by a pout that almost seemed forced. "That’s a shame. I really thought you’d fall for my compliments," he said, his grin returning in full force. "How could I help myself? You look very... tasty," he added, emphasizing the last word with a playful gleam in his eyes.  

She laughed again, shaking her head at his antics. "That’s all you know how to do, huh? Flirt. You’re so used to having people fall at your feet that you don’t know how to have a real conversation, do you?"  

Kaiser’s smirk returned, wider this time, his gaze sharpening with a flicker of admiration for the way she held her ground. "Oh, you wound me, Y/N," he said dramatically, placing a hand over his heart as if her words had struck him deeply.  

This was a new record for Kaiser. Out of all the people he’d spoken to, she was the only one who didn’t get swept up in his charm. The only one who didn’t fawn over him. And it intrigued him. Never before had he felt this kind of genuine interest in a conversation.  

What was even more surprising was that he hadn’t once grown bored. Their interactions, especially the ones where he accidentally bumped into her, were becoming more engaging with every exchange. This one, in particular, was the most stimulating yet. And that only fueled his curiosity even more.

_______

Bit by bit, Kaiser began to lower his guard around her, the cracks in his facade growing wider with every interaction. Unknowingly, he allowed Y/N to catch glimpses of the man beneath the crown—fragments of a person that few ever saw.  

And despite every instinct telling her to walk away, Y/N found herself inexplicably drawn to him. She knew who he was, what he represented. She understood the chaos that swirled around his world, the power he wielded, and the danger that came with being entangled in it. Yet, despite that, she couldn’t tear herself away.  

She had her reasons, of course. The first, and most obvious, was the truth—the truth that lay just beneath his carefully constructed mask. The truth that had eluded her for so long, no matter how many times she tried to unravel it.  

But there was something else, something she couldn’t quite pinpoint. A pull, a magnetic force that seemed to draw her in. It wasn’t just his looks, nor his sharp, confident personality. She’d encountered countless famous men, men just as attractive, just as bold. And yet, none had ever affected her this way.  

Y/N wasn’t sure if it was the sensation he gave her—the way he made her feel like she was the only one in the room, like she was a part of something dangerous and exhilarating. It was a feeling that both thrilled and unnerved her. But there it was, undeniable. She was tethered to him in a way that made no sense, and that fact alone was enough to keep her coming back.

So, she was left with only one conclusion: the sensation he left her with. A strange, undeniable craving for more. It was an odd feeling, something that gnawed at her insides with an intensity she couldn’t quite understand.  

But deep down, she knew it wasn’t just that. There was something else—something beneath the surface that kept her tethered to him, something that made her unable to look away. What was it about him that had this hold on her? What was it that made her so drawn to him, despite knowing all the risks?  

The answers she sought would come, sooner than she anticipated. After the press conference, everything changed.

From that night onward, they grew closer. Closer than she had ever expected. Their interactions shifted from professional to personal, the banter, the snarky retorts, becoming a comfortable rhythm between them.  

The facades they’d both so carefully built began to crack, slowly, piece by piece, until there was little left to hide behind. And as the walls came down, the truth—about him, about her—started to reveal itself in ways neither of them had anticipated.

༻♕༺

The cold seeped into her bones, a biting winter chill that seemed to freeze everything around her. But it wasn’t just the weather. No, the real cold came from something far deeper.  

Y/N stood behind him, her eyes reflecting a mixture of pity and disbelief. She had never seen him like this—vulnerable, shaken, a far cry from the confident, unshakable man she was used to.  

It was a rare loss, one that had taken more from him than anyone could have anticipated. A loss that had clearly left its mark, its weight pressing down on him in ways he couldn’t hide. The toll it had taken on him was evident in every tense line of his posture, every stiff breath he took.  

This wasn’t just a defeat—it was something far more personal. And for the first time, Y/N wondered if he would ever be the same again.

The cold bit at her skin, sharp and unforgiving, the air heavy with the weight of winter. But it wasn’t just the chill of the season that made everything feel frozen. It was the coldness of something deeper, a loss that had struck like an icy gust of wind, leaving everything in its wake distant and hollow.  

This wasn’t just any loss—it was rare. And it had taken more than just the game from him. It had cost him something personal, something she could feel even without knowing the full extent of it.  

The match had ended hours ago, but Kaiser remained. Alone. Silent. His figure barely visible in the fading light of the pitch, his usual confidence stripped away.  

With every step she took toward him, the cold seemed to grow sharper, more furious, as if it was fighting her approach. But she didn’t stop. Even as it felt like she was wading through a blizzard, Y/N pressed on.  

Finally, she stood closer to him, close enough to see his face—or what little of it she could. His head hung low, his hair casting shadows that obscured his expression.  

When she finally caught a glimpse, her breath caught in her throat. It was a look she was unfamiliar with, one that didn’t belong to the Kaiser she knew. It was raw, unguarded—something close to defeat, but deeper, more complicated than just that. And for the first time, Y/N wondered if the man she had been chasing after was even the person he pretended to be.

He looked like a shell of himself. Empty.  

For the first time, Kaiser appeared as though he had lost everything—not just the match, but something far more profound. To him, this wasn’t just a game lost; this was personal. His team had lost. He had lost. And that shattered the very foundation of his pride.  

Losing wasn’t a part of his world. It wasn’t even something that registered in his vocabulary.  

So when the final whistle blew and his team was declared defeated, it wasn’t just a score—it was a rupture in everything he believed. He shattered. The loss was far more than the scoreboard. It meant he was a failure, and that idea cut deeper than any defeat ever could.  

Y/N could see the pain in his eyes, the kind of raw agony that an emperor, someone so used to control and dominance, rarely allowed anyone to witness. It was a vulnerability she wasn’t prepared for.  

That’s when it hit her—Kaiser was no longer the man who ruled the field, untouchable and arrogant. He was just a person, fragile and broken.  

Her heart clenched in her chest. She hadn’t expected to feel sympathy for him, but there it was, overwhelming.  

Without thinking, she stepped closer. "Kaiser..." Her voice was soft, almost hesitant, a note of concern breaking through her usual sharpness.

The words barely registered in Kaiser’s mind, but the tone did. It was different from the usual sharpness he was accustomed to. When he spared a glance at Y/N, it wasn’t the smirk or the arrogance he often wore in her presence—it was something far more guarded. But at least she knew he acknowledged her.  

"Kaiser, talk to me." Her voice was quieter this time, more insistent.  

Y/N had never expected to care for him this way. For so long, her focus had been solely on uncovering the truth, on peeling back the layers of the man who intrigued and frustrated her. But with every moment spent near him, the answers she sought only seemed to deepen the mystery. And now, in this strange moment, she found herself questioning something else entirely: Did he care about her, too?  

But Kaiser didn’t respond. He remained as still as stone, his silence speaking volumes. His mind was a battlefield—on one side, the urge to push her away, to demand she leave him in peace. On the other, an inexplicable resistance to that very thought.  

The inner conflict tore at him. His jaw clenched so tightly that the muscles in his face twitched. The only outward sign of his internal struggle.  

He was furious—furious at the loss, at the feeling of vulnerability she seemed to evoke, at the strange mix of emotions swirling in his chest. Confusion clouded his eyes, and for once, Kaiser found himself at a loss.  

He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what she wanted from him. And he certainly didn’t know what he wanted from her.

"I hate this."

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at the words, the vulnerability in his voice catching her off guard. Finally, after all the silence, he spoke.  

"Hate what, Kaiser?" she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. She wasn’t even sure what she was asking—she just needed him to respond, to break the suffocating silence between them.  

"I hate what I'm feeling right now." His voice was softer now, almost as if he didn’t want anyone to hear it. His head drooped even further, his posture slumped under the weight of something far heavier than just the game.  

Y/N’s eyes softened as she watched him, her heart tugging painfully. She felt an overwhelming sense of sympathy for him, but at the same time, she felt helpless. What could she do? Every time she tried to reach out, he shut her down, pushing her away with his walls.  

She had seen it all—the game, the way the light in his eyes dimmed with each passing moment, the defeat that seemed to crush him. It was a rare sight, this version of Kaiser. The one who wasn’t so certain, so untouchable.  

"It’ll get better, Kaiser. I swear," she said quietly, almost pleading with him to hear her, to believe in her words.  

But a small scoff escaped his lips, laced with annoyance and something darker—frustration, confusion. "How? How can it get better, Y/N?" he snapped, his voice sharp.

A frown tugged at Y/N's lips as she watched him. "The feelings are temporary, Kaiser. I know it feels like shit right now, but it won't last. You did great, regardless—and for that, I’m proud. Others are, too, I think—"

But before she could finish, Kaiser interrupted her, his words cutting through the air with an edge that startled her. "Did you know I hate losing?"  

Y/N blinked, her breath catching slightly at his tone. But he didn’t stop.  

"I hate losing, not because it hurts my pride," he continued, his voice steady but laced with something deeper, darker. "But because it reminds me that everything—this, my career, my reputation—can disappear in an instant."  

He paused for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts, and then, more quietly, he added, "It brings back the memories of the old me. It’s like reliving the past all over again. All the way back to my old household… back to how useless I was. I was pathetic. I was nothing."  

His words hung in the air, heavy and raw. Y/N’s eyes widened just for a fraction, the weight of his confession settling over her. She quickly masked her surprise, but something inside her stirred.  

This was new. Kaiser had never spoken like this before. He had never let her—or anyone—see beneath the mask he wore so carefully.  

And for the first time, she felt the barrier he had placed between himself and the world—the one that had kept his true feelings locked away—begin to crack. She could see it. She could feel it.  

Her heart swelled with something she couldn’t quite name. It wasn’t pity. It wasn’t sympathy. It was something deeper—something that made her want to keep listening, keep understanding.  

This was the truth she had searched for. The truth she had wanted to uncover all along. The one that had eluded her, hiding behind all the layers Kaiser had carefully constructed. And now, for the first time, she was seeing it for what it truly was.

But now wasn’t the time to dwell on the emotions swirling inside her.

“I despise losing in a way too, Kaiser,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Kaiser’s gaze shifted to hers, catching her off guard. She wasn’t sure what to expect from him, but she wasn’t expecting this—this quiet attentiveness. This was the first time she had seen him focus on her with such intent.

“I hate that losing against people who are far more superior than me takes such a huge toll on me,” she continued, her words flowing slowly, as if each one carried more weight than the last. “It’s like I’ll never measure up in a world dominated by people who are better.”

His entire attention was on her now. She could feel it. And for some strange reason, it eased the tension that had been building in her chest. It felt… calming to know that, for once, someone else understood. Even if it was just in this small moment.

"I’ve always feared the people who were better—who were born with gifts I could never surpass," she said, her voice softening with each word. “But I always fucking hated that about myself,” she whispered, the words carrying an undertone of self-loathing she hadn’t shared with anyone before.

Y/n gritted her teeth slightly, her eyes narrowing in a mix of regret and frustration. The vulnerability was almost suffocating, but it was real. It was raw. And in this moment, she wasn’t afraid to show it.

Kaiser noticed the shift in her expression—the self-hate she had felt earlier now seemed to dissipate, replaced by something more complex, something that caught him off guard. It was the same surprise that stirred within him.

"It bothered me so much, the fact that I always managed to push myself down at any given moment when I saw someone even just the slightest bit better than me," she continued, her voice steady, though it carried a weight. "It made me feel even more worthless than I really was. All I did was force myself into believing I was lower than everyone else when, in reality, I was so much more than that."

She finally lifted her gaze to meet his. It wasn’t the confusion he was used to seeing. No, this time she held his stare with something softer—something almost vulnerable. He found himself looking at her with a kind of admiration, something unfamiliar to him, mixed with a flicker of surprise.

"Y/n," he mumbled, his voice no longer tinged with irritation, but instead with a curiosity that mirrored his feelings. "I don’t want to see the same thing in you, Kaiser," she added, her words a quiet confession that hit him harder than he expected. "It bothers me so much when I see someone making themselves feel like shit."

Her admission stilled him, and his chest tightened at the rawness of her words. "I didn’t want to see what I went through in your eyes."

Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, he felt a shift—a shift in the way his heart pounded. Did she care for him? The thought was almost foreign, but the possibility of it lodged itself deep within him. Someone who cared. For him.

The realization made his chest ache in a way he couldn’t explain. It was an emotion he hadn’t quite known how to process, but it was there, undeniable and consuming.

Kaiser’s heart raced as he asked the question, though he already knew the answer—or so he thought. "Y/n, do you... care?"

It was blunt, direct. He needed an answer, even if it hurt him further. The silence that followed stretched, thick with unspoken thoughts.

Y/n froze, her eyes searching for an answer within herself, and that’s when it hit her—she cared. All the confusion, the uncertainty, the strange pull toward him… it all made sense now. Those feelings she had tried to unravel earlier, they were tied to this simple, yet profound word.

Care.

The realization crashed over her. That was it. That was why her heart felt heavy. Why she couldn’t tear herself away from him. Yes, it was hard to believe, hard to admit, but in that moment, it was undeniable.

She cared. 

For Michael Kaiser. 

The word fit perfectly. It was the missing piece that made everything click. It felt right. Perfect, even.

She didn’t hesitate this time, her voice softer than before. "I do, Kaiser, I really do."

It was enough. That simple truth was all Kaiser needed to hear. For the first time in what felt like forever, someone—anyone—cared for him. The weight of her words settled into his chest, filling a space he didn’t know had been empty for so long.

And in that moment, it felt like a dream come true. Like he could finally exhale, like he was at peace. At rest.

Someone cared for him. The thought alone made his heart ache in a way he wasn’t used to, the tenderness stirring deep within. His eyes softened, losing the usual sharpness that defined him. 

There was no smirk now. Instead, a smile—a real, unguarded smile—replaced it. It was subtle, but it was there. 

He took a step toward her, then another, until the space between them dwindled to nearly nothing. She could feel his presence, so close now that her heart began to race with uncertainty and anticipation. It was like the world had quieted around them, and everything he was—everything he had hidden—was on the brink of being laid bare. 

Just for today, he told himself. Just for today, his guard would be lowered. Just for today, he would let the mask fall.

His chest tightened with something more than nervousness—something that felt raw and unspoken. A pull, a need, an undeniable feeling that screamed at him to take action.

And surprisingly, he didn’t hesitate. He didn’t force his body to stop. For once, he didn’t fight against it. 

Now, in this moment, he realized the truth—he cared for her too. And he wanted her to care for him forever. 

He took that final step. The one that closed the distance between them, the step that meant everything. The step that brought them together, on the edge of something neither of them had expected, but both knew would change everything.

He reached up, his hand gently cupping her chin, guiding her face toward his. His eyes locked onto hers, searching for something, anything—confirmation of what they both already knew. 

Her eyes, wide and vulnerable, spoke the truth without words. They were everything she had just confessed. And then, his gaze dropped lower. Her lips—soft, full, and so inviting—pulled him in, a magnetic force he couldn’t resist even if he wanted to. They were perfect. Delicious. Everything he never thought he'd want, yet now couldn't imagine living without.

He studied her entire face, her entire being, drinking in every detail. And in that moment, he realized he was lost. Completely. And it was all Y/n’s fault.

He didn’t think, didn’t hesitate. He was caught in a trance, a deep desire bubbling up, leaving him no choice but to close the distance between them. His lips crashed against hers, a sudden, urgent kiss that left no room for words.

The shock was mutual, taking them both by surprise. Kaiser, usually so in control, found himself caught in the rush of emotions he had never expected. And Y/n—she couldn’t process it at first. But that hesitation lasted mere seconds.

Without missing a beat, she responded, mirroring the intensity he had brought to her. Their lips moved together, desperate and passionate, as if they had been waiting for this moment all along.

Kaiser's lips claimed Y/n's with a fervor that was both tender and dominating, their mouths aligning in a rhythm as natural and inevitable as the tides. Each passing second saw their kiss deepen, growing more intimate, more passionate, more consuming. It was as if their lips had been sculpted by the gods themselves, destined to fit only against each other.

Kaiser's strong hand gripped Y/n's chin, holding her fast as he plundered her mouth with increasing aggression. She gasped, a shocked murmur escaping her, and he seized the opportunity to delve inside, his tongue invading and conquering. It twined around hers, dominating, possessing, staking his claim.

A breathy, needful groan spilled from Y/n's lips, a sound of surrender and submission. Kaiser felt a surge of male pride, a dark satisfaction at reducing this proud woman to such a state with naught but a kiss. She was his, utterly his, and he reveled in his power over her.

His grip tightened, fingers sinking into the soft flesh of her jaw as he angled her head to deepen the kiss yet further. He would have her, all of her. He would lay siege to her every defense until she yielded completely. And he would enjoy every moment of conquering her, body and soul

Kaiser's earlier anger had dissipated like the morning mist under the scorching sun, leaving no trace behind. All that remained was a burning desire, a hunger to unravel the woman in his arms, to make her unravel for him. His hands gripped her waist, pulling her flush against him, trapping her soft, pliant body against the hard planes of his own. She was a delicate doll, a plaything for him to manipulate and enjoy as he saw fit. His doll, his prize, his possession. And he would guard his treasure jealously.

He broke the kiss, only to catch his breath for the briefest of moments before his mouth was back on hers, claiming, conquering, consuming. She was a woman possessed, lost in the haze of sensation, unable to break away from the addictive pull of his lips. Her hum of acquiescence, trapped between their joined mouths, only spurred him on further.

"Your enjoying this aren't you?" Kaiser murmured, his voice a low, teasing rumble. He didn't wait for a response, his lips latching onto hers once more as if to swallow any protest. She was addicted, he could feel it, could taste it on the sweetness of her breath. And like any addict, she would crave more, would need more. He would make certain of it.

Kaiser's palm skimmed over the curve of Y/n's hip, squeezing and caressing, igniting sparks beneath her skin. Each pass of his hand stoked the flames of his desire, the kiss growing ever more fervent, ever more consuming. He reveled in her surrender, in the way she melted so sweetly against him, a puppet dancing on his strings.

But it was more than her submission that ignited the beast within him. It was the raw, primal satisfaction of seeing his actions, his touch, his very presence eliciting such a response. She was a canvas, and he was the artist, painting her reactions with every brushstroke of his desire.

Her need to continue the kiss, to lose herself in his embrace, only fueled his own burning hunger. He could feel it, the pull, the ache, the desperation. She craved him, yearned for him, and he would feed that hunger, that yearning, that desperation. He would be her addiction, her poison, her reason for breath.

Kaiser broke the kiss abruptly, leaving her lips hovering, searching, aching for his touch. Her eyes, hazy with desire, sought his own, a plea swirling in their depths. She tried to close the scant distance between them, to recapture his lips, but he pulled back, a wicked gleam in his eye.

Confusion clouded her gaze, warring with the need, the want, the undeniable desire. He had her on the cusp, teetering on the edge of something terrifying and thrilling. She was his puppet, and he held the strings, ready to dance her to his tune

Y/n stared at Kaiser, his name falling from her lips in a breathless question. As her gaze met his, she felt the weight of his desire, hot and heavy, pressing down upon her like a physical touch. She felt laid bare, stripped of all defenses, as exposed as if she stood naked before him. His eyes blazed with a madness, a hunger that made her heart stutter in her chest.

"Kaiser," she breathed, a flicker of uncertainty in her tone. But before she could voice any protest, he was already moving, his large hand engulfing her own, pulling her towards his waiting vehicle.

She stumbled slightly, caught off guard by his urgency, his insistence. But he didn't give her time to compose herself, to steel her nerves. No, he was already ushering her into the passenger seat, the cool leather of the car interior a shock against her flushed skin.

The door slammed shut with a resounding finality, sealing them both inside the confines of the luxurious vehicle. Kaiser slid into the driver's seat, his presence commanding, dominating the space. She could feel the tension radiating off him, the coiled energy, the barely restrained desire.

He didn't say a word, didn't bother with pleasantries or explanations. He simply engaged the ignition, the engine roaring to life with a throaty purr. And then they were moving, the car surging forward with a burst of speed that pressed Y/n back against her seat.

She had no idea where he was taking her, no concept of their destination. But it mattered not. All that consumed her thoughts, all that mattered, was the promise of what was to come. The completion of what they had begun.

The car pulled to a halt, and before she could blink, Kaiser was there, opening her door, his hand outstretched to assist her exit. She stepped out into the cool night air, her heels clicking against the pavement as she gazed up at the imposing structure before them.

It was a house, a grand and opulent affair that spoke of wealth and privilege. Of course, it made sense. Kaiser was a man of means, a famous athlete who had amassed a fortune through his talents and dedication. And now, he was inviting her into his inner sanctum, his private domain.

He led her towards the imposing front door, his hand a brand at the small of her back

Y/n found herself powerless to resist as Kaiser's iron grip tightened around her waist, propelling her forward into the cavernous entrance of his estate. The door slammed shut behind them with a resounding bang, sealing them off from the world outside, leaving them alone in the charged atmosphere that crackled between them.

Before she could catch her breath, Kaiser had her pinned against the door, his hard, muscular body caging her in, his lips claiming hers in a searing, urgent kiss. A startled gasp escaped her, only to be swallowed by Kaiser's hungry mouth as it moved demandingly against her own.

Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, clinging to him, anchoring herself against the onslaught of sensation. Her lips, as if possessed of a will of their own, softened and yielded to his, falling into a rhythm that matched his own. She met him kiss for kiss, desire for desire, her body melting bonelessly against the hard planes of his own.

Kaiser's calloused hands, rough and textured from years of gripping balls and battling opponents, skimmed over the soft, sensitive skin of her waist. They fit her curves as if she had been sculpted to his touch, his hands a perfect mold for her body. His fingers tightened, squeezing the soft flesh, marking her as his own.

"Kaiser..." His name left her lips in a breathless whisper, a sound of surrender and need. The way it echoed in the grand foyer, a testament to her submission, sent a shiver down Kaiser's spine. This woman, this exquisite creature, was undone by his touch, his kiss, his very presence. And he reveled in the power of it, the heady rush of knowing he could bring such a strong woman to her knees with a mere touch.

He plunged his tongue past the seam of her lips, delving deep, conquering, claiming, possessing. She tasted of honey and sin, and he couldn't get enough. He wanted to drown in her, to lose himself in the sweet oblivion of her mouth, of her body.

The need that surged through him at the sound of her breathless whisper, the way it made his skin prickle and his blood burn, was as terrifying as it was exhilarating. She was doing this to him, unraveling him, just as he was unraveling her.

Kaiser felt the weight of her whispered plea, the way it settled heavily in his chest, igniting a primal urge within him. The sound of his name on her lips, the desperation in her tone, stirred something dark and possessive deep inside him. In that moment, his sole desire was to see her bow down before him, to make her submit completely to his will. He wanted her to remember only one name, only one identity: Michael Kaiser. He wanted to be her god, her master, her everything.

A smirk tugged at his lips, felt rather than seen, as a low, sensual chuckle slipped between their joined mouths. "Let's take it further," he murmured, his voice a rumble of promise and dark intent. "Yeah?" It was a command more than a question, a decree that brooked no argument.

His hands slid from her waist to the backs of her thighs, squeezing the firm, toned flesh. In a fluid, effortless motion, he lifted her, silently demanding her cooperation, her obedience. And to his satisfaction, she complied without hesitation, without a moment's doubt.

Her legs wrapped around his waist. Kaiser groaned into the kiss, the feeling of her body pressed so intimately against his own stoking the flames of his desire to new heights. He could feel her heartbeat pulsing against his chest, could feel the heat of her core pressing insistently against his abdomen.

Blindly, his eyes still locked with hers, Kaiser carried her through the darkened halls of his estate. He didn't need to see where he was going, trusting his memory, his instincts, to guide them to their destination. The bedroom loomed before them, a spacious and opulent affair, the grand four-poster bed dominating the center of the room.

He carried her to the edge of the bed, his lips never breaking the heated kiss, his tongue still plundering the sweet recesses of her mouth. Only when the backs of her knees hit the mattress did he reluctantly withdraw, his breath harsh and ragged as he gazed down at her with a look of pure, unadulterated hunger.

"You're mine," he growled, his voice a low, possessive rumble.

Kaiser loomed over Y/n, his powerful frame pinning her delicate one to the luxurious bed. His hands roamed her curves with a boldness born of desire and possession, mapping out the terrain of her body as if he were a conqueror claiming new land. She was utterly at his mercy, trapped beneath him, a willing captive to his touch.

Soft, breathy moans spilled from her lips, a symphony of pleasure that sang to his ego, stroking his pride. Each touch, each caress, sent her spiraling further into a world of sensation, craving more, needing more. He could feel it, the way her body responded to his, the way it yearned for his touch like a flower turning towards the sun. She was his, utterly and completely, and he reveled in the knowledge.

A growl of pure male satisfaction rumbled in his chest as he hooked his fingers under the hem of her shirt. Slowly, deliberately, he began to lift it, revealing inch after tantalizing inch of the smooth, silky skin beneath. She didn't protest, didn't try to stop him. No, she wanted this as much as he did, her body singing with the same desperate need that consumed him.

He didn't bother asking permission, knowing it was unnecessary. He could see it in her eyes, feel it in the way she arched into his touch. She was his, and he would take what was his.

With a swift, decisive motion, he whipped her shirt over her head, tossing it carelessly to the floor. His breath caught in his throat as he drank in the sight of her, his gaze raking over her half-naked form with a hunger that bordered on reverent.

There she lay, a vision of feminine perfection, her ample breasts encased in the delicate lace of her bra. A bra that, like everything else about her, seemed to have been made just for him. He could not look away, could not tear his gaze from the exquisite beauty before him.

She was a woman he had grown accustomed to, a woman who understood him like no other. A woman who had become his everything, his reason, his obsession. She was his dog, his plaything, his treasure. And he would enjoy every single moment of possessing her, of owning her, of claiming her as his own

Kaiser's hands found their destined home as he deftly unfastened the hook of Y/n's bra, the last flimsy barrier between them falling away. With a sense of purpose, he peeled the delicate lace away, revealing the glorious expanse of her breasts to his hungry gaze.

He stood there, admiring her, drinking in the breathtaking sight of her upper body laid bare before him. Her breasts were perfect, full and ripe, begging to be touched, to be worshipped. And touch them he did, his large hands finding their way to cup the soft, pliant flesh, his fingers sinking into the giving softness.

"Y/n..." he murmured, his voice rough with desire and awe, "you're fucking beautiful." His eyes raked over her body, taking in every dip and curve, committing every inch to memory. She was a work of art, a goddess, a vision of pure feminine perfection.

Unable to resist, he brushed his thumb over the peak of her nipple, watching as it puckered and tightened at his touch. A breathy, needful grunt spilled from Y/n's lips, a sound that went straight to his groin, stoking the flames of his desire.

Kaiser grinned, a fierce, possessive grin of pure male satisfaction. He had power over her, absolute control, and he reveled in it. He could make her feel, make her react, make her crave. And he loved every single second of it.

His lips crashed against hers once more, his kiss aggressive, demanding, conquering. His tongue delved into her mouth, sliding against hers, stroking, tasting, claiming. He drank down her moans, her whimpers, her cries of pleasure, each one fueling the inferno that raged within him.

As he plundered her mouth, his thumb continued its assault on her sensitive nipple, rolling and pinching, tugging and teasing. Her body bowed off the bed, arching into his touch, silently begging for more. And more he would give her, more he would take from her. He would have her begging, pleading, screaming his name until it was the only word she knew, the only prayer on her lips.

Kaiser's hand blazed a trail of fire down Y/n's torso, his calloused fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake. The heat of his touch contrasted deliciously with the cool air of the room, sending shivers of pleasure racing down her spine. She arched into his caress, a breathy moan escaping her lips at the exquisite sensation.

His hand found the waistband of her pants, and with a decisive tug, he gripped the fabric, his intent clear. But before he could act on it, his mouth tore away from hers, leaving her lips feeling suddenly bereft and cold. A needful whimper escaped her at the loss, her body aching for his touch, his warmth.

But that whimper quickly turned into a loud, wanton moan as Kaiser's lips found the sensitive skin of her neck. He nipped and sucked at the delicate flesh, leaving a trail of marks, of bruises, of brands. He was claiming her, marking her, making her his in the most primal way possible.

His mouth trailed lower, over the swell of her collarbone, down the valley between her breasts. And then, without warning or hesitation, he took her nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak before he began to suck.

A sharp cry tore from Y/n's throat, her back bowing off the bed as pleasure exploded through her. Instinctively, she clapped a hand over her mouth, trying to muffle the shameless sounds of her desire. But that action only served to anger Kaiser, to spark a fierce surge of irritation within him.

His mouth released her nipple with a lewd pop, the sound echoing obscenely in the charged air of the room. His eyes flashed with a dangerous light as he glared down at her, his tone shifting from seductive to harsh in an instant.

"Who told you to cover your fucking mouth, huh?" he growled, his voice a low, threatening rumble. "You think you're being loud? I'll make you even fucking louder." His smirk returned, wider and more wicked than before, a promise of pleasure bordering on pain. He meant every word, and she would feel the weight of his intent in every kiss, every touch, every breathless cry that tore from her throat.

Kaiser's hand shifted, his fingers finding the button of Y/n's pants with unerring accuracy. With a deft flick of his wrist, he unbuttoned the fabric, the sound of the release echoing in the charged air. Without hesitation, without giving her a moment to catch her breath, he tore the pants down her legs, tossing them carelessly to the floor.

And there she lay, a debauched vision in the dim light of the room, clad in only her soaked panties. The damp stain was unmistakable, a testament to her arousal, her desire, her desperate need. Kaiser felt a fierce surge of pride, of possessiveness, knowing that he was the sole reason for her current state. He had done this to her, had brought her to this point of desperation, and he would revel in every moment of it.

His eyes raked over her body, taking in every inch of exposed skin, lingering on the damp patch that darkened her panties. They were wild, crazed with a lust that bordered on madness. In the dimness of the room, Y/n could see the aura of desire swirling in their depths, could feel the weight of his gaze boring into her very soul.

"Already wet, huh?" he growled, his voice a low, rough rumble that sent shivers down her spine. "And you weren't even fully naked." His finger hooked into the band of her panties, the flimsy fabric stretching taut against her skin.

Slowly, torturously, he began to pull them down, the action agonizing in its deliberate slowness. He was teasing her, keeping her waiting, denying her the pleasure she so desperately craved. His eyes never left hers, watching as her body squirmed beneath his touch, watching as she fought the urge to beg, to plead, to demand.

The sheets crumpled beneath Y/n's gripping fingers, the fabric twisting and bunching as she clung to them in desperation. Her hips lifted off the bed, seeking more of his touch, craving the relief only he could give her.

"Kaiser..." she whined, her voice high and breathless, a sound of pure, unadulterated need. "Don't tease me like that. Just...fuck, hurry up." It was a plea, a desperate, wanton plea for him to take her.

Kaiser's lips curled into a wicked smirk at Y/n's desperate plea, a sound of pure, unadulterated need. He chuckled, a low, dark sound that rumbled through his chest, as he continued his tortuous descent, his fingers toying with the delicate fabric of her panties.

"Teasing?" he murmured, his breath hot against her skin, "I'm just getting you ready for what's to come." With a final, sharp tug, he peeled the soaked fabric down her thighs, the cool air kissing her overheated skin as he exposed her fully to his hungry gaze.

Y/n shivered, her body instinctively trying to close, to hide, to protect her most intimate place. But Kaiser was having none of it. His hand clamped around her knee, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he forced her legs apart, baring her glistening sex to his appreciative eyes.

"Don't you dare," he growled, his voice a low, commanding rumble. "You're not allowed to hide from me, Y/n. Not now, not ever." His gaze raked over her dripping folds, taking in the sight of her arousal, the proof of her desire. He could barely contain himself, barely restrain the primal urge to bury himself inside her heat and claim her, ruin her, make her his.

Unable to resist any longer, he traced a teasing finger over her clit, circling the sensitive nub, feeling it throb and pulse beneath his touch. Y/n squirmed beneath him, her hips lifting, seeking more, craving more. She was at his mercy, completely under his control, a puppet dancing on the strings of his desire.

A throaty grunt escaped Kaiser's lips as he felt her wetness coat his finger, her body welcoming him, inviting him inside. Without warning, he plunged his finger deep into her tight, clutching heat, a loud, wanton moan tearing from Y/n's throat as she arched beneath him.

"Fuck, Y/n," he groaned, his voice strained with the effort of holding back, of not taking her right then and there. "You're so fucking tight. So fucking perfect." He pumped his finger in and out of her, feeling her walls flutter and clench around the invading digit, her body instinctively trying to draw him deeper, to keep him inside her.

Kaiser's fingers continued their relentless assault on Y/n's dripping core, plunging in and out of her tight, clasping heat. The obscene sound of his digits pumping through her slick arousal filled the room, a lewd symphony of their coupling. He could feel her velvety walls gripping him, fluttering, clenching, as if trying to keep him inside her.

"So fucking tight," he breathed out, his voice rough with desire and appreciation. Unable to resist the urge to feel more of her, he forced a second finger into her tight channel, stretching her, filling her, claiming her. His long, skilled fingers reached that sweet spot deep inside her, the one that made her see stars, that made her cry out in ecstasy.

Y/n's moans filled the air, a beautiful, erotic melody that sang to Kaiser's soul. Each pleasured sound she made, each whimper and mewl, only spurred him on, making him want to wring more from her, to make her scream his name until it was the only word she knew.

"Fuck-Kaiser you're still clothed —" Y/n managed to gasp out between the waves of pleasure crashing over her. Her voice was high, breathless, a sound of frustration and longing.

Kaiser paused, his fingers still buried deep inside her, as his gaze flicked over his own body. She was right, of course. While she lay bare and exposed beneath him, he was still clothed, still covered in the layers of fabric that separated his skin from hers.

A small, mocking laugh left his lips as he met her gaze, his eyes glinting with amusement and dark promise. "You want to see me naked too, hmm?" he murmured, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Consider it a reward for being so good."

Kaiser's hands gripped the hem of his undershirt and jersey, the fabric stretching taut against his broad shoulders. With a swift, decisive movement, he peeled them both off in one go, tossing them carelessly to the floor. His chest was a work of art, each muscle sculpted and defined, the hard planes and ridges a testament to years of discipline and training. In the dim light of the room, Y/n could see every contour, every line, the way his skin seemed to glow as if illuminated by an otherworldly source.

Next, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts and socks, shimmying them down his powerful legs with an ease that spoke of long practice. His cleats were already discarded, left forgotten by the door, and now the rest of his lower half was bared to Y/n's hungry gaze.

Y/n's eyes raked over his body, taking in every inch of exposed skin, every toned muscle that rippled beneath the surface. He looked ethereal, a god made flesh, a king sitting upon his throne. She could hardly believe that such a perfect specimen of manhood existed outside of myth and legend.

Her gaze traveled down, over the defined lines of his abdomen, the V-lines that disappeared teasingly into the waistband of his boxers. The only fabric left, the last barrier between her and his complete nudity. She could see the bulge of his arousal straining against the confines of his underwear, could feel the heat of his desire radiating off him in waves.

Y/n’s eyes widened, her mouth hanging at the sight of him, at the promise of what was to come. She ached to touch him, to run her hands over his skin, to feel the power coiled in his muscles. She wanted to worship him, to make him feel as good as he made her feel.

But more than that, she needed him. Needed to feel his skin against hers, needed to be filled, claimed, owned by him completely. She was already naked, already bared to him in every way possible. It wasn't fair that he still had one last scrap of clothing separating them.

Kaiser chuckled, a low, rich sound that rumbled through his chest and vibrated against Y/n's skin. He reveled in the effect he had on her, the way her eyes widened and darkened with desire as they roamed over his naked form. It was a heady feeling, knowing that he could reduce her to this state, could make her crave him with such desperate intensity.

"C'mon, don't tell me you're nervous now?" he teased, his body crawling over hers, his hands coming to rest on her thighs. He held himself up, his muscular arms flexing with the effort, as he gazed down at her with a wicked, mocking grin.

His palms began to rub up and down her thighs, the rough skin of his hands a delicious contrast to the smoothness of her own. Y/n bit back a whimper as he intentional brushed over her sensitive clit, the fleeting touch sending sparks of pleasure shooting up her spine.

"Nervous? You're funny," she scoffed, trying to maintain some semblance of control even as her body betrayed her true feelings. Kaiser raised an eyebrow at her bravado, a smirk playing about his lips.

"In a situation like this, it's not very smart to talk back," he murmured, his voice a low, warning rumble. But Y/n could see the glint of amusement in his eyes, could tell that he enjoyed the back-and-forth, the challenge.

She glared up at him, her chin set at a defiant angle even as her heart raced in her chest. As much as she tried to deny it, Y/n couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement at being at the mercy of this powerful, dominant man. The power dynamic between them thrilled her in a way she had never experienced before.

"Let's continue, yeah?" Kaiser murmured, his lips brushing against hers in a teasing promise of a kiss. Y/n's breath hitched in her throat, her body arching up towards him, seeking more of his touch, more of his heat.

She knew she should be nervous, should be intimidated by the raw power and hunger she saw in his eyes. But instead, she felt a corresponding surge of desire, a need to meet his passion with her own. She wanted to see how far they could push each other, wanted to explore the depths of pleasure and ecstasy.

Y/n let out a small grunt, her body trembling with anticipation and need as Kaiser's hands continued their sensual exploration of her curves. The kiss deepened, adding fuel to the fire that raged within her, stoking the flames of her desire until she felt they might consume her entirely.

She could feel the knot forming in her lower belly, the ache of emptiness that could only be filled by one thing. By him. By Kaiser. She needed him inside her, needed to feel his hard length stretching her, claiming her, completing her.

"Kaiser..." she breathed out, the name falling from her lips like a prayer, a plea. She was drowning in sensation, in the heat and hardness of his body pressing against her own, and she needed an anchor, needed something to tether her to reality.

Kaiser broke the kiss, his eyes dark and hungry as he leaned back. His hands fiddled with the waistband of his boxers, and Y/n eagerly sat up, wanting to see, needing to witness the final reveal. She had to know, had to see all of him, had to drink in the sight of Kaiser in all his naked glory.

"Eager are we?" he lowly chuckled, a smirk playing about his lips as he slowly, teasingly, began to tug down his underwear. Inch by torturous inch, he revealed the base of his cock, and Y/n's breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding wildly against her ribs.

She gulped as more of his impressive length was revealed, the thick veins and ridges clearly visible, the hard flesh throbbing with his arousal. He was so big, so much bigger than she had imagined, and the sight of him made her mouth water and her core clench with need.

Kaiser kicked his boxers away, tossing them carelessly to the floor. And then he was climbing over her, his naked body covering her own, his hard length pressing against her lower belly. She could feel the heat of him, the weight and power of him, and it made her feel small and feminine and desperately, achingly empty.

"You want this just as bad as I do, right?" Kaiser asked, his voice a low, rough murmur. His hand rested on the dip of her hip, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh possessively.

"Yes... I want it just as bad," Y/n confirmed, her voice breathless and high with need.

Y/n let out a guttural moan as Kaiser's thick, hard length speared into her, filling her in one powerful thrust. Her back arched off the bed, her nails digging into his shoulders as she was stretched and filled and claimed completely. The suddenness of it stole her breath, left her gasping and panting, her lungs burning for air.

"Oh god, Kaiser!" she cried out, her voice a mix of surprise, pleasure and need. She could feel every ridge, every vein, every throbbing inch of him pulsing inside her, stretching her walls to their limit. It was almost too much, almost painfully intense, but she never wanted it to end.

Kaiser groaned, a deep, low sound that rumbled through his chest and vibrated against Y/n's skin. He threw his head back, a look of pure, unadulterated bliss on his face as he savored the feel of Y/n's tight, wet heat enveloping his aching cock. Her walls gripped him like a vice, fluttering and clenching around his shaft, as if trying to draw him even deeper.

He gripped her hips, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh hard enough to leave bruises. It grounded him, anchored him, kept him from losing himself completely in the overwhelming pleasure of finally being inside her.

"Ready, Y/n?" Kaiser asked, his voice a low, rough rasp. He tilted his head down to meet her gaze, a wicked smirk playing about his lips as he took in the sight of her flushed cheeks, the sweat drops dotting her forehead, the red hue spreading across her skin.

Y/n could only nod, too lost in sensation to form words. But Kaiser wanted more, wanted to hear her say it, to give voice to her desire.

"I told you I needed words, didn't I?" he huffed, his tone a mix of teasing and demand. His lips moved to the side of Y/n's neck, his warm breath ghosting over her skin, making her shiver and tremble beneath him.

"Yes Kaiser," Y/n breathed out, her voice a needful whimper. "Yes, I'm ready. Please, please..." She didn't even know what she was begging for, only that she needed more. More of him, more of this, more of everything.

Kaiser grinned down at Y/n, his eyes glinting with a mix of triumph and dark promise. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" he murmured, his voice a low, teasing rasp. "I'll have you bowing down to me soon enough, like the needy little peasant you are, Y/n."

He rocked his hips back, his hard length sliding out of her dripping sex until only the tip remained nestled inside. Y/n whimpered at the sudden emptiness, her walls clenching around the head of his cock, trying to keep him inside. But Kaiser was having none of that. With a sharp grin, he slammed back into her, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust.

Y/n cried out loud moans, the sound tearing from her throat as pleasure bordered on pain. Tears sprang to her eyes, the intensity of the sensation overwhelming her. Kaiser groaned, a low, guttural sound that spoke of his own pleasure and need. Her walls were so tight, gripping him like a velvet vise, the wet heat of her sex coating his shaft, making the glide easier even as it clenched and fluttered around him.

He set a brutal pace, pounding into her with deep, powerful strokes. The room filled with the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin, with Y/n's needful cries and Kaiser's harsh grunts and groans. He was taking her hard, claiming her, marking her, staking his ownership of her body and soul.

"Fuck, Y/n," Kaiser growled, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips, no doubt leaving bruises in their wake. "You feel fucking incredible. So fucking tight and wet and perfect."

He leaned down, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear, his voice a low, dark murmur. "I'm going to ruin you for anyone else. No one else will ever make you feel this good, will ever fuck you like I can. You're mine now, Y/n. My perfect little toy to use as I please."

Kaiser punctuated his words with a sharp thrust, grinding his hips against hers, his pelvis pressing against her sensitive clit. Y/n keened, a high, breathless sound of pure pleasure, her body arching up to meet his.

Kaiser growled in feral satisfaction as Y/n wrapped her legs around him, giving him an even deeper, clearer angle to plunge into her. His hips snapped forward with renewed vigor, each powerful thrust striking that perfect spot deep inside her that made stars explode behind her eyelids.

"Fuck, Y/n!" Kaiser groaned, his voice a low, guttural rumble. "Scream for me, let me hear how good it feels. Fucking scream my name!"

His movements grew more intense, more demanding, the force of his thrusts shaking the bed beneath them. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with their escalating moans and cries. Kaiser was relentless, pounding into Y/n with a single-minded focus on her pleasure and his own.

"Fuck, you're squeezing me so tight," Kaiser grunted, his fingers digging into the flesh of her hips, no doubt leaving vivid bruises in their wake. "Your cunt is gripping my cock like it never wants to let me go. Fuck, I can feel you throbbing around me, begging for more."

He leaned down, his lips finding the sensitive spot just below her ear, his teeth sinking into the tender skin. "That's it, take it all like a good little slut. Take every fucking inch of my cock. This is what you were made for, Y/n. To be a warm, wet hole for me to use as I please."

Kaiser punctuated his filthy words with a sharp, brutal thrust, grinding his pelvis against Y/n's clit, the rough friction sending bolts of electricity zinging up her spine. Y/n could only scream, could only let the pleasure consume her as Kaiser fucked her with wild abandon, chasing their mutual release with single-minded intensity.

Y/n's nails raked down Kaiser's back, leaving red lines of pleasure-pain in their wake. She couldn't help but claw at him, needed an anchor, something to ground her as the intense sensations threatened to sweep her away. It felt too good, too overwhelming, too much like drowning in a sea of ecstasy.

Tears streamed down her face, pouring from her eyes as her body trembled and quaked beneath Kaiser's relentless assault. She could feel the coil of tension in her belly winding tighter and tighter, the knot of pleasure growing bigger, more insistent with each passing second.

"Kaiser... I'm close," Y/n managed to whimper out between ragged breaths and broken moans. Her voice was high, thready, a needful keen that spoke of her impending release.

Kaiser could only nod, his jaw clenched tight, his eyes dark and wild as he gazed down at Y/n. He was close too, teetering on the edge of his own climax, the pleasure gripping him like a vice. But he pushed through it, determined to bring Y/n to the heights of bliss before seeking his own.

"Almost there," Kaiser grunted, his thrusts growing sloppy, his rhythm faltering as he chased their shared release. He was enjoying this, reveling in the way Y/n's body squeezed and fluttered around him, the way her cries of pleasure filled the air.

A few more deep, powerful thrusts, and then Y/n was coming undone. Her head tipped back, her eyes rolling up in sheer bliss, her body convulsing beneath Kaiser as her orgasm crashed over her. Her fluids gushed out around his pistoning cock, coating him, dripping down onto the sheets.

Kaiser couldn't hold back any longer. With a hoarse cry of Y/n's name, he pulled out just as his own climax hit him like a freight train. His seed erupted from his cock, painting Y/n's lower abdomen with thick, hot ropes of his release. He shuddered and groaned, his body jerking with the force of his intense orgasm.

Heavy breaths lingered in the still air, the only sound that filled the space between them. Both of them were still catching their breath, their bodies spent from the intensity of what had just transpired. The silence was almost deafening, yet neither of them seemed to want to break it.

Kaiser finally collapsed onto the side of the bed, his body sinking into the soft sheets with a low exhale. "Fuck..." he muttered, his voice strained, and his eyes staring up at the ceiling as he tried to calm the rapid beating of his heart.

Y/n remained still, her own chest rising and falling with each shaky breath, her thoughts swirling as she tried to make sense of the whirlwind that had just unfolded. It had happened so quickly, so intensely, that she felt as though she couldn’t fully grasp the reality of it. She hadn’t expected to feel this... overwhelmed.

Her gaze drifted to him. Kaiser’s bare chest heaved up and down, glistening slightly in the dim light of the room, his usual arrogance softened for the moment. There was something about the vulnerability in his expression now, the way his sharp features seemed more relaxed, that struck her in a way she hadn’t anticipated. She hadn’t expected to see this side of him, especially not after everything they had shared.

Slowly, she turned her head, her eyes locking with his. His blue gaze met hers, intense and burning with a quiet intensity that made her heart flutter unexpectedly. There was a flicker of something deeper in those eyes—something she hadn’t seen before. He smirked then, though it wasn’t his usual cocky grin. It was different, softer. “Didn’t know you had it in you, Y/n,” he teased, his voice low and husky.

Her heart skipped a beat, and she couldn’t look away from him. The way the light caught his face, the way his features softened in the aftermath of their connection—it made her breath catch in her throat. Kaiser, with all his arrogance and power, looked... beautiful in that moment. Vulnerable, almost raw. She hadn’t expected to see him this way, and yet it pulled something in her that she couldn’t deny.

There was something about the way he lay there, his body still warm and flushed, his chest rising and falling in time with hers. The silence between them was heavy, charged, and it made her feel like she was caught between two worlds—one where she was just the journalist trying to uncover the truth, and the other where the truth had just shifted in ways she didn’t fully understand.

Kaiser, too, felt it. His heart thudded in his chest, though it wasn’t out of anger or frustration this time. No, this felt... different. Her presence, her eyes on him, it was like nothing he’d ever experienced. A quiet ache settled in his chest, but it wasn’t a painful one. It was almost as if his heart was beating in rhythm with hers, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt something so... real.

Kaiser couldn’t afford to lose focus now. His goal was clear, his mind set. He was going to make Y/n break before him, piece by piece. Like shards of glass, he would walk over her, feeling the satisfying crunch of her resolve shattering under his weight. She had become a challenge, a puzzle he had every intention of solving in his own twisted way.

He needed to see her bow to him, to crumble under the weight of his control. She had become nothing more than a pawn in his game—an object he could manipulate at will, a doll to be twisted and molded. But all dolls, no matter how beautiful, eventually lost their shine. They aged, wore down, and lost the spark that made them desirable. And like any owner of such a toy, he would discard her when she no longer served a purpose. He would use her—hold her close, make her his submissive, obedient lover. He would keep her under his thumb until there was nothing left of her but a hollow shell of the woman she once was.

That was his goal. And it was all that mattered right now. But as he watched her, there was something nagging at him—a strange pull he couldn’t ignore. Something flickered in the depths of his chest, unsettling him for a brief moment. But he pushed it down quickly. No distractions.

What about Y/n? What was *her* goal? 

Y/n’s goal was far different. She hadn’t forgotten what had brought her here—what had driven her to this point. The truth. The elusive truth that seemed buried beneath his walls. She would get it. No matter what it took, she would uncover the man behind the mask. Even if it meant breaking him. Even if it meant pushing him to the very edge of himself. 

She couldn’t let herself falter. She had promised herself she would get the truth, no matter the cost. She knew it wouldn’t be easy, but it was worth it. 

However, deep down, she understood that it might be more complicated than she had first imagined. Kaiser was unpredictable, dangerous, and far more manipulative than she had given him credit for. But she had to try. She had to push forward. Even if she was playing with fire, even if it burned her in the process. It was the only way she would ever get to the heart of who Kaiser really was.

And as their paths collided, both of them were on the edge of something neither was fully prepared for.

Who knows, she might just get lucky.

She had already gathered enough intel—enough pieces of Kaiser's carefully constructed persona to build a story. More than enough to expose him, to rip the mask off and unveil the ruthless, complicated man he really was. A paper revealing his true nature would make waves—she was certain of that. Every word, every detail she had gathered felt like a potential key to unlock the final truths he was so desperate to hide. 

But that night, that moment of intimacy, what did it really mean? Did the sex they shared mean nothing in the grand scheme of things? Were they just swept away in the heat of the moment? Maybe it was just an impulse for both of them. Or maybe, it was something more—but right now, neither of them cared enough to dwell on it.

It wasn’t on the top of their priorities. Not now. 

For Kaiser, the goal was simple: to mold her into another loyal, subservient piece in his world. A filthy dog, obedient and at his beck and call. He wanted to control her, twist her into something he could possess—just like he had done with so many before her. He was used to having people bow to him, obey him, and now, Y/n was no different. The power struggle had only just begun.

But for Y/n, her focus was fixed elsewhere. She wasn’t concerned with the intricacies of his twisted games or his domineering desires. She cared only about one thing—getting the truth. The real man beneath the arrogance, the lies, the carefully constructed walls. The truth that had always been just out of reach. She wasn’t afraid to push him, to break through those defenses. She would squeeze the truth out of him, no matter how much she had to endure. That was the prize she sought, the only thing that mattered in this dangerous dance they were caught in.

Both of them had their objectives. And neither of them would stop until they achieved them.

༻♔༺

The grip around his phone tightened as a searing sense of disbelief coursed through him. How? How had this happened? How had she—*she*—managed to slip from his grasp, just when he thought he had her fully under control? 

That night... it should have been the turning point, the moment he solidified his hold over her. Didn't she already prove her loyalty to him? Didn’t she beg for more, didn’t she give in to him in a way that made her his, body and soul? Hadn't he already made her submit, wrapping her around his finger like it was nothing?

So what had changed? What had shifted in that brief moment, in the aftermath of all that power he had over her? 

Kaiser’s heart dropped in his chest. His eyes burned as they scanned the article before him. Reading those words felt like a punch to the gut, a reminder of everything he had fought so hard to bury. The words weren’t just an attack—they were a mirror, showing him the parts of himself he’d rather stay hidden. The article, no doubt penned by her, exposed everything: his drive for perfection, the way he had always lived in the shadow of his father’s expectations, the years of feeling like second-best in his own home. 

His teeth clenched so tightly it hurt. He wasn’t just angry—he was furious. But it wasn’t only anger that churned in his stomach. There was a gnawing anxiety, a sickening feeling that perhaps he hadn’t been as in control as he thought. The walls he had so carefully constructed were beginning to crumble, and there was no one to blame but himself.

He glanced back down at his phone, his eyes scanning the title again, as though hoping he had misread it. But no. The words were still there, mocking him. *"THE TRUTH ABOUT THE FAMOUS MICHAEL KAISER HAS BEEN REVEALED!?"*

The question mark seemed to echo in his mind. How could she have done this? How had she pulled it off? 

His world, carefully crafted and meticulously managed, was unraveling. And Y/n was the one holding the thread.

How had she gotten her hands on this? The question drilled into Kaiser’s mind as he racked his brain, trying to piece together the only possible answers. The only time he had opened up, the only time he had let his guard down—was that night on the football pitch. 

That night, when everything had slipped from his grasp.

He had confided in her, exposed pieces of himself that he kept hidden from the world. His anger, his frustration, the deep-rooted pain that had been festering for years—he had told her everything. 

And now, this? This betrayal? It was too much. His body tensed, muscles straining with fury as his veins popped, bulging out of his forearms and neck, as his grip tightened around his phone.

"Ill fucking kill her," he muttered under his breath, the words dripping with venom.

Ness, who had been nearby, instinctively stepped closer, sensing the shift in Kaiser’s mood. His voice came out in a shaky whisper, filled with concern. "Kaiser? There’s no need... just try to relax. We’ll figure out another solution—"

"Relax?" A dark chuckle rumbled from Kaiser’s throat, a sound that sent a chill down Ness's spine. Kaiser’s head tilted to meet his gaze, the look in his eyes sharp and cold. "Are you out of your mind, Ness?" His voice was thick with menace.

Ness swallowed hard, his throat dry. He knew better than most what happened when Kaiser was pushed too far—he’d seen the chaos, the destruction. Kaiser was a force, and when his anger was unleashed, there was no telling where it would go.

Kaiser scoffed, the sound sharp and bitter. Without sparing Ness another glance, he tore his gaze away and stared down at the phone once more, fury burning in his chest. "I’m going to find her," he muttered, his tone deadly quiet.

Ness’s eyes widened, panic rising in his throat. "Kaiser, I don’t think that’s a good idea..." His voice faltered, and he took a half-step back, fear flooding his veins.

"Who are you to tell me, Ness?" Kaiser snapped, his voice rising with barely contained rage. The words shot out of his throat, thick with anger as he glared at the other man. 

Ness stood still, his jaw clenched. He knew better than to argue with Kaiser when he was in this state—knew that continuing to push would only escalate the situation. So, he remained silent, his eyes dropping to the floor as he chose not to provoke the storm any further.

Kaiser’s footsteps were the only sound filling the room as he turned and stormed off. The sound of the door slamming behind him made Ness flinch, the sharp noise echoing through the still air.

Kaiser was gone. 

And Ness knew, without a doubt, that he wouldn’t be coming back until he got the answers he was looking for.

_______

It took less than thirty minutes for him to find her. 

For once, he didn’t have to track her down, didn’t need to follow her every move. She just happened to appear right there, walking down the same pavement he was on. It almost felt like fate had thrown him a bone. 

His eyes burned with fury as he locked onto her figure ahead. Every step he took toward her was driven by rage, and as soon as he spotted her, he didn’t hesitate. No pause. No second thoughts. He moved toward her with a single-minded purpose.

“You.” Kaiser’s voice sliced through the tense air, thick with irritation, as his glare locked onto her. 

Y/n could feel it—the suffocating heat of his anger, seeping through the space between them like a storm ready to burst. His eyes were hard, his body tense, every fiber of him radiating fury. Yet, she stood her ground, her posture unyielding. This confrontation had been inevitable. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” he snapped, his teeth gritting with each word, voice tight with barely contained rage.

“My problem?” Y/n’s lips twitched into an almost dismissive smile. “I’m just doing my job,” she said coolly, as if it wasn’t painfully obvious. 

“Your stupid job? You exposed me for what, a paycheck? To get some cheap satisfaction?” Kaiser’s words were now laced with venom, his anger flaring hotter with each second.

Y/n’s expression didn’t flicker. She was already too familiar with his temper, too accustomed to his threats. “Look, Kaiser,” she replied, her voice low but unwavering, “I know all about your little games. I know what kind of man you really are. Hell, I know who you are beneath that shiny mask you wear.”

A flash of something dark flickered in Kaiser’s eyes. His jaw clenched, and he took a step forward, his presence looming. “You don’t know shit about me, Y/n,” he growled, his voice thick with barely-contained rage.

Y/n tilted her head, studying him with an almost clinical detachment. “You’re right. I don’t. And that’s exactly why I only took what you revealed to me.” She met his gaze head-on, the weight of her words hanging in the air like a challenge. “Everything in that article? It came from you.” 

Kaiser’s fist clenched at his side, his breath coming in sharp bursts, but she didn’t flinch. She wasn’t afraid of him—at least, not in the way he thought.

His hands clenched into fists at his sides, knuckles turning white as the surge of anger built within him. "That was only a moment of weakness you found me in," Kaiser muttered, his tone sharp.

"A moment of weakness that revealed things about you," Y/n replied, her voice softer now, almost contemplative. 

Her words hit him harder than he cared to admit. She was right, and he hated it. In his moment of vulnerability, he had let down his guard, exposing himself in ways he never should have. How could he have been so stupid, so careless? He cursed himself inwardly. He had been weak, and now she had a foothold. She knew something about him—something raw, something real. And it unsettled him in a way nothing else had before. 

But what bothered him even more was how she acted like she had him all figured out. Her calm demeanor, the way she looked at him, like she saw right through him—it drove him mad. She wasn’t close to understanding him, not even remotely. She didn’t know the real him, not the one hidden under the mask. 

A small, bitter laugh escaped his lips. It was laced with annoyance, and it made Y/n raise an eyebrow, her gaze scrutinizing him.

"You use my vulnerability for some story, huh?" he scoffed, his voice dripping with contempt. "Just how pathetic are you?"

There was a flash of something deeper in his chest—a feeling of betrayal, but he couldn’t fully grasp it. It wasn’t just about the article, not really. No, there was more to it. It was the way she had used him, or so he thought. She had caught him at a weak moment and now she was going to expose it, turning his own pain into her narrative. 

Kaiser had always been in control, and now, in this moment, he felt the balance shift. He thought he had her right where he wanted her—on the verge of submission, ready to fall into his trap. But instead, she had found something he didn’t want her to see, something he wasn’t prepared to face.

For the first time, it felt like he was the one on the edge of losing control.

Kaiser stood there, his mind a storm of confusion and anger. His voice, though low, was laced with a tinge of vulnerability as he asked, "Did that night mean something to you?"

Y/n’s eyes widened at the unexpected question. She hadn’t anticipated him bringing this up—now of all times, in the middle of this confrontation. She could feel the tension thickening around them, and yet, she couldn’t avoid the truth. Her heart hammered in her chest as she struggled to find the words.

Did it mean something to her? As much as she hated to admit it... yes, it did. The more she replayed the night in her mind, the clearer it became. It wasn’t just the rivalry, nor was it the way he always seemed to have her figured out. It was everything. 

She wasn’t sure when it started. Maybe it had grown out of the rivalry that once burned between them, or perhaps it was the way he would always read her so easily, effortlessly. But what mattered now was that she had become attached to him, in a way she hadn’t expected.

That night—when they were in the same bed, the space between them so much more intimate than she had ever imagined—she realized just how much she had been paying attention to him. His every movement, every shift, every detail. She noticed things about him, things she hadn’t before. Small things, subtle things that made her chest tighten with an unfamiliar ache.

And then there was his tattoo. 

The tattoo that stood out against his skin like a piece of art carved into his very identity. A blue rose, delicate yet fierce, wrapped in thorns that traced down his arm, curving around to the back of his hand where a crown rested. The crown, like a symbol of his reign over everything around him, contrasted sharply with the softness of the rose. 

The sight of it, the way it seemed to represent both his vulnerability and his strength, lingered in her mind. That tattoo—so personal, so telling—was a glimpse into the layers of Kaiser she hadn’t even begun to fully understand. Yet it was there, in plain sight, a quiet reminder of the complexities he hid beneath his cold exterior. 

She looked at him now, knowing she couldn’t lie to herself anymore. Yes, that night meant something—more than she was willing to admit, even to herself.

Y/n took a deep breath, her eyes locked on his, her words carefully chosen as they left her lips. "Yes, it did," she answered earnestly, her voice steady yet carrying a weight of sincerity. Her gaze never faltered from his, willing him to see the truth in her eyes.

Kaiser's heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, his breath caught in his throat. It did? He couldn’t fathom it. If she truly felt that way, then why—why—had she exposed him like that? Why had she published that article, revealing everything he’d worked so hard to keep hidden? The confusion in his chest twisted into something darker. 

He was about to speak, to demand answers, but Y/n continued, her voice cutting through the tension that had built up between them.

"But it’s not in the way you think, Kaiser." 

Her words pierced the air, leaving him on edge. Kaiser stiffened, his body language tense, every fiber of his being urging him to press for more. What did she mean by that?

He couldn’t understand. All this time, he had been convinced that the only reason she was with him, or even had any interest in him, was for the story. He had thought she saw him as nothing more than a subject to uncover, a mystery to be exploited. And yet, here she was, admitting that night had meant something—but not the way he had assumed.

Y/n’s eyes narrowed slightly, but instead of answering, she turned the question back on him. "What about you, Kaiser? Did that night mean anything to you?"

He narrowed his eyes slightly, his earlier fury simmering beneath the surface, but something about her tone made him hesitate. What was she trying to say?

Kaiser didn't speak; instead, he waited, his expression a mask of impatience mixed with genuine curiosity.

Kaiser’s mind raced, the question hitting him harder than he expected. Did that night mean anything to him? He furrowed his brows, his gaze shifting as if trying to find the words that had evaded him. 

He had always prided himself on controlling his emotions, on keeping everything locked down tight. Yet, in that moment, with Y/n's eyes locked onto his, he felt something stirring inside of him—something unfamiliar, something foreign.

The dream, the one where Y/n was just another piece in his game, where she would bow to him, would surrender, was still there. But beneath that, there was something else. A fleeting warmth that he couldn’t quite grasp. Something about that night had been different. 

He felt it in the way her gaze softened when she spoke to him, in the way her touch lingered, in the way her presence seemed to affect him more than he cared to admit. 

He glanced away briefly, his mind racing, trying to piece together what it was that bothered him. The control, the power he always sought—it was still there, but it was almost overshadowed by... something else. Something he couldn’t quite define. 

And that, above all else, frustrated him. Because he didn’t like feeling unsure. He didn't like being caught off guard, especially not by someone like Y/n.

Her question hung in the air, and for a moment, he didn't speak. Instead, he watched her, trying to decipher her expression. What did she want him to say? Did she want him to admit that he felt something more than just the fantasy? 

But he couldn’t admit that—not yet, not to her.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low, almost guarded. "It meant something... but not the way you think." His words mirrored hers, but there was a tension in his tone that didn’t match the certainty in hers. 

It was her turn now to see through him, to decide if she believed him—or if he was lying to himself.

Kaiser’s gaze never left her, his eyes scanning her face as if trying to find some answer in her expression. He couldn’t help but notice the way her eyes caught the dim light, how they seemed to shimmer in the shadows. He noticed the way her hair fell loosely around her shoulders, slightly tousled, as if she hadn’t been paying attention to how she looked at all. Her breath matched his, slow and steady, but there was an underlying tension, a shift between them that was too subtle to ignore.

It frustrated him to no end that he couldn’t put a name to what he felt. It wasn’t like him. He was used to knowing exactly what he wanted, used to controlling every aspect of his life. But her—Y/n—she was the only thing that made him feel off balance, like a puzzle he couldn’t solve. 

He had always dismissed her as just another person in his orbit, someone who was part of the game. But now, it was different. He could no longer ignore the small details, the things he had overlooked before—the softness of her gaze, the way she stood, the way she carried herself. 

He shook his head, trying to push those thoughts away. This wasn’t about that. Not yet, anyway. 

To answer her question, he still wasn’t sure what he felt, and maybe he didn’t want to admit it. He couldn’t afford to—he needed control, always. So, he deflected. "I don't know. Probably not," he muttered, his voice quieter now, the anger from before beginning to dissipate.

Y/n’s eyes flickered, and for a moment, he saw a glimmer of something—disappointment, maybe. But it was gone before he could fully register it. She nodded, her hands resting at her sides, and let out a soft breath. "That’s expected," she replied, her voice calm, almost detached.

That simple acknowledgment—her acceptance of the situation—stirred something inside him, a flicker of irritation that seemed to rise again. She knew how to push his buttons, how to make him feel small even when she was being neutral. 

His frustration came rushing back, the old anger bubbling up inside him. "But that still doesn’t answer why you published that story about me," he snapped, his tone sharp now, his eyes narrowing in challenge. 

Her gaze didn’t waver, and he hated that. She wasn’t giving him the satisfaction of seeing her falter. She was too composed, too in control. But that only made him want answers more.

Kaiser’s eyes locked onto hers, his gaze intense, almost burning with frustration. She wasn’t backing down. She hadn’t given him a single shred of an answer that would satisfy him, and it infuriated him even more. She wasn’t budging, wasn’t cracking under the pressure. She just stood there, unwavering, as if his anger meant nothing.

He let out a frustrated huff, his jaw clenched. She was still sticking to the same tired excuse, and he hated it. “That’s bullshit,” he growled, his fists clenching at his sides.

Y/n sighed, her gaze shifting slightly as if she were trying to stay calm in the midst of his rising fury. She was tired of this back and forth too, but she wouldn’t give in. Not to him.

“Look, Kaiser, if you’re looking for someone to blame, it’s you,” she shot back, her voice steady, but tinged with something sharper now. “You let me in. Whether you meant to or not, you did. The truth isn’t a betrayal—it’s the one thing you’re too scared to face.”

Her words stung, and Kaiser could feel his anger flaring up again, more intense this time. “Like hell it is,” he snapped, his body moving towards her as if he couldn’t contain the boiling fury inside him anymore. His bangs fell over his eyes as he took another step forward, his proximity almost suffocating. 

She was calm, too calm, and it grated on him. He wasn’t about to let this slide, not without getting something more out of her. He was done with the charade, the bullshit. “Do you not have decency? I know there’s another reason, so stop bullshitting and just get out with it,” he demanded, his voice low and threatening.

Her expression didn’t falter, but something flickered behind her eyes—a flicker of defiance, a spark of something more. But it was fleeting.

The fire inside him flared higher, threatening to consume him whole. He wanted to break her composure, make her reveal something, anything that would give him control again. 

But Y/n didn’t let him have that. She wasn’t going to bend to his will.

“I’m not bullshitting anything, Kaiser,” she replied, her voice cold, almost emotionless. The fire she felt inside only made her more resolute. This was the truth, and he would have to accept it. She wasn’t going to let him manipulate her into something else.

Kaiser’s chest rose and fell with each breath, his frustration building, yet something in his gut twisted. He knew she wasn’t going to give him the answer he wanted, but that didn’t stop him from wanting it. The dynamic between them had shifted, and it made him uneasy. He hated that.

But Y/n? She was standing firm, and that made him even angrier.

A sharp, frustrated 'Tch' escaped from Kaiser's lips as he stared at her. He didn't want to admit it, but maybe she was right. Maybe she was just that devoted to her job. It didn’t sit well with him, though. The thought of her treating his vulnerability as nothing more than fuel for a story made him feel a knot twist tighter in his gut.

But he couldn’t allow himself to acknowledge it fully—not yet. Not when his emotions were swirling in a hurricane of rage, regret, and irritation. Betrayal. That was what it felt like. The whole damn thing felt like a betrayal. 

He had let her in, he had allowed her to see his cracks. He had been in a state where his mind was raw, open, desperate for some kind of connection, and she had been there. He thought she understood—he thought, for once, that she could see him beyond the walls he’d built. But now, he hated himself for it.

His thoughts raced back to that night. He’d felt weak, vulnerable, and yet there was a strange comfort in her presence. She had been the only one there, the only one who had seen him in his lowest, most unguarded state. But now? Now, all that felt like a mistake. A massive, unforgivable mistake.

His chest tightened as frustration clawed at him, and he clenched his fists at his sides. His anger flared with every beat of his heart. Regret gnawed at him relentlessly. He hadn’t realized how much he had truly relied on her in that moment—how much trust he had placed in her, even for just a fleeting second. It was laughable now. He couldn’t even look at her without feeling the rush of bitterness in his throat.

He scowled, eyes narrowing as he processed everything. The anger in him boiled over, yet there was still something—some nagging feeling—that wouldn’t go away. It was like a foreign sensation, one that felt… different from what he was used to.

"Those fucking annoying feelings," he muttered under his breath. That’s all he could label them for now. Annoying. Uncomfortable. Unwanted.

Kaiser couldn’t admit it yet, not to himself, and certainly not to her. He wasn’t ready to confront whatever the hell this was. He just couldn’t. It was easier to shove it aside, to focus on the anger, on the betrayal, on the hurt.

But deep down, Kaiser knew that feeling wasn’t going away. And that realization, despite the rage clouding his thoughts, only made him more unsettled. 

The argument continued, a relentless back-and-forth, neither side willing to bend. Kaiser’s denial clung to him like a shield, a fragile barrier against the truth he wasn’t ready to face. His anger flared, a smoldering fire that refused to die. Y/n, on the other hand, stood firm, unwavering in her stance, her answer never changing, no matter how many times he tried to push her. 

They were locked in a battle of wills—Kaiser, consumed by his emotions, and Y/n, resolute in her position, each too proud to give the other the satisfaction of yielding. The silence that followed the last words they exchanged felt heavier than the heated argument itself. 

Both of them were left to stand in the aftermath, unsure of what came next. The walls they had built between each other felt thicker, harder to penetrate. What had started as a connection, a mutual understanding—even an unspoken bond—now seemed like a distant memory, drowned by the weight of their words and the tension between them.

Could this broken, fractured relationship survive the collision of their worlds? Was there a way for them to move past the hurt, the betrayal, and the raw emotions that had been exposed? Or had they reached a point where this was the inevitable end?

Kaiser, his mind still buzzing with questions, couldn't help but wonder if anything could ever bridge the gap between them again. Y/n, equally torn, questioned whether it was even worth it to keep fighting for something that seemed to slip further from her grasp with every passing moment.

The future felt uncertain, a blur of unanswered questions and lingering doubt. One thing was clear though—they were both changed by this. Whatever came next, their relationship, whatever form it might take, would never be the same again.

༻♕༺

A rush of exhilaration surged through Kaiser as the ball hit the back of the net, the goal sending a wave of adrenaline flooding his veins. The stadium erupted in cheers, but for him, the applause was distant—almost insignificant compared to the fire burning inside him. This match wasn’t just another game. It had become personal.

Kaiser’s movements were sharp, reckless even. His anger, his frustration, it all came spilling out in the form of brutal tackles, calculated risks, and explosive speed. He was consumed by the thought of her, the way she had exposed him, the way she had dared to challenge him. His focus had shifted from winning to something far more dangerous—domination.

Every strike of the ball was a release, a cathartic outburst. His kick had more power, more intensity than ever before, as if he was channeling all of his unresolved emotions into each play. The world around him blurred. His mind wasn’t on the game—it was on her. 

Kaiser had a new goal now, a fresh obsession that had wormed its way into his thoughts. It wasn’t just about proving himself anymore. No, now he wanted more. He wanted her to bow to him—not just in respect, but in submission. He wanted her to plead for forgiveness, to feel the weight of her betrayal in the pit of her stomach. 

With every goal, with every play, his frustration intensified. It was as if each victory on the field brought him one step closer to breaking her down, to seeing her on her knees. It was a dangerous game he was playing—both with the ball and with his own emotions. But he couldn’t stop now. Not when he was this close to making her feel what he felt. 

The match raged on, but Kaiser’s mind was already several steps ahead, imagining the scene he would create. The ball at his feet felt almost like an extension of his will—a tool to help him gain control, not just of the game, but of everything.

A small sigh of relief escaped Kaiser's lips as the final whistle blew, signaling the end of the match. Their team had claimed victory. The tension that had gripped him throughout the game seemed to loosen, though not entirely. His mind still buzzed with restless energy, the anger he’d channeled into his performance lingering beneath the surface. But now, the chaos on the field had settled. 

As he made his way off the pitch, he saw her. There she stood, waiting, her presence like a magnet pulling his focus. For a moment, he stopped, his feet frozen, eyes narrowing as they locked onto hers. Despite the boiling frustration and resentment he felt, something else tugged at him—something that gnawed at him, unexpected and unwanted. 

A strange mix of longing curled in his chest, subtle but undeniable. It was the same feeling he’d experienced before, the one he hadn’t allowed himself to fully acknowledge. The one he hadn’t been able to label. And now, standing there, it threatened to overpower him. He wanted to look away, to push it down, but he couldn’t. The ache was growing. 

Y/n met his gaze, her expression softening, a shadow of sadness clouding her features. There was something in her eyes that spoke volumes—regret, yes, but also a deep, unspoken longing. It mirrored his own. She knew she had crossed a line, and though she tried to justify it with her job, she knew it wasn’t enough. The excuse was weak, even to her. 

Kaiser swallowed hard, trying to ignore the pull, the twisting in his gut. He shifted his gaze away, unwilling to meet it any longer. He couldn’t afford to get caught up in this mess again, not now. So instead of walking toward her, he turned, the sound of his footsteps loud in his ears as he made his way to the locker room. 

But as he walked, the ache in his chest only deepened. It was a sensation he couldn’t ignore, no matter how hard he tried. The more he distanced himself from her, the more the weight of it settled in.

༻♔༺

Months had passed, and Y/n found herself once again attending one of Kaiser's matches—this time to cover his triumphant return to form. It had been so long since they'd had a real conversation. The exchanges between them had been reduced to nothing more than fleeting glances, heavy with words unsaid. There had been no resolution, no attempt at understanding. Just silence, stretching between them like an unspoken agreement to keep their distance.

As usual, she didn’t expect him to approach her after the game. She had learned not to expect anything from him. So, she improvised. She couldn't keep avoiding him, and she couldn't let it go on like this. There had to be a proper conversation, one where words were exchanged, where truths came out. She just had to talk to him, even if it meant breaking the stillness.

It happened that after the match, he was slated to sign shirts for the fans. Kaiser had initially resisted, unwilling to participate in the post-match rituals, but his managers had insisted, practically forcing him to stay and sign memorabilia. Y/n saw her chance.

She walked up to him, her heart hammering in her chest, trying to steady her breath. His expression was unreadable, his eyes distant. From the outside, he seemed calm, almost detached, as he handed her a signed jersey. But she could see it—the subtle tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw clenched as if he were holding something back. Inside, he was struggling, as if something inside him was unraveling.

A flicker of regret flashed across Y/n’s face as she began to speak, but before she could gather her thoughts, it seemed as if Kaiser was the one breaking the silence. He spoke first, his voice quieter than she had expected, devoid of anger but filled with an unfamiliar vulnerability.

“To be honest,” he started, his gaze dropping to the floor for a moment before lifting to meet hers, “you were right about the whole thing… about me not being able to see the truth instead of the betrayal.” His voice softened, the harshness gone. “I thought winning was all I needed. But I realized something... you can't be king of an empty castle.”

His words hit her like a wave, a mix of sorrow and disbelief washing over her. She had spent months trying to ignore the ache of their unresolved tension, but in that moment, everything seemed to shift. Her chest tightened as his admission sunk in, and she found herself unable to look away from him.

Her voice cracked when she finally spoke, softer than she intended. “And I can’t love someone who only knows how to keep people at arm’s length.”

The words felt like a confession, a truth she hadn’t even fully admitted to herself until that moment. It wasn’t just about him anymore—it was about them, the space between them that had grown too wide, too unbridgeable.

Kaiser’s eyes widened, his breath catching as he heard her words. That was it. That was the word he had been searching for, the word that had been dancing around his thoughts for months. Love. 

The feelings that had plagued him, the ones he had been dismissing as mere annoyance, suddenly clicked into place. It all made sense now. He was falling in love, something he had spent his life pushing away yet finding, something he had told himself he didn’t need but craved. But now, standing here, with the truth staring him in the face, he realized it was everything he had wanted—and everything he had been too afraid to embrace.

But even in that realization, something else weighed heavily on him. It was too late. The feelings, the words, the truth—none of it could change what had already been lost. Y/n had already made her choice, and there was nothing he could do to take it back.

For a moment, Kaiser stood there, frozen, as the reality of his own heart hit him. It was a bitter, almost hollow feeling. He had spent years building walls around himself, pushing everyone away, thinking that the power, the success, the titles were enough. He thought they could fill the void. But now, looking at Y/n, he realized they never had. 

The king, the one who had always sworn to make others bow before him, now found himself bowing his head in defeat. It was a strange, painful irony. He had craved power, respect, adoration—but what he had never expected was that the one thing he truly wanted, the one thing that had eluded him all these years, was the one thing he had pushed away the hardest.

Kaiser felt the weight of his loss, the emptiness that followed the admission he had just made. In that moment, nothing else mattered. The trophies, the fame, the victories—it all seemed insignificant in the face of the one thing he couldn’t have. 

He had lost her. And no amount of titles, no number of wins, could ever bring her back.

Y/n, for her part, stood in stunned silence, her heart aching as she saw the pain in his eyes. There was nothing else to say. No words could fix this, not now, not after everything that had happened. They were both standing in the ruins of what could have been, and neither of them knew how to rebuild it. 

She took a step back, her own heart heavy with the realization that what they had could never be. Not like this. Not after all that had passed between them.

With one last look, she turned away. Kaiser stood there, watching her go, feeling the emptiness inside him grow. The silence between them was louder than any words could ever be. And in that silence, Kaiser finally understood.

༻♕༺

He watched her from a distance, his gaze following her every move as she conducted another interview with one of the players. The scene was familiar, yet it felt distant, like a memory from a past life. Despite the days that had slipped away since their last encounter, Kaiser remained a king in the eyes of the world. His crown still gleamed, his fame intact, and yet his heart carried a weight he couldn't shake. His eyes, once fierce with ambition, now lingered on Y/n with an aching mixture of regret and longing. The feelings he'd buried deep inside him seemed to claw their way to the surface every time she was near, and he couldn't escape the pull.

On the outside, no one could tell what had happened to him. The public continued to see the indomitable athlete, the ruthless champion whose titles and success overshadowed everything else. But beneath the polished exterior, a man was unraveling. The armor he wore so effortlessly could not shield him from the ache in his chest, nor could it conceal the truth he had tried to ignore. 

Y/n, on the other hand, moved through her days with a quiet determination, her heart guarded, but forever tethered to what had been. She kept the signed jersey he had given her, folded neatly in her closet, a relic of a time that felt both distant and close. It was a memory she couldn’t part with, no matter how much it pained her. She had always kept mementos—small reminders of things she wanted to hold onto—and this, despite everything, was one of them. A symbol of what had been, and what could have been. She would never throw it away. Not ever.

Though their paths had diverged, the space between them growing wider with each passing day, neither of them could escape the thoughts of the other. They remained in each other’s minds like an unspoken promise, a lingering memory of something beautiful yet broken. The past they shared hung between them, invisible yet palpable, a constant reminder of what they had and what they lost.

Kaiser remained on his throne in the stadium, ruling the field as he always had. But when it came to matters of the heart, he learned too late that even kings must face the consequences of their actions. His victories, his triumphs, came at a cost—a price he had never imagined paying. In the end, no title, no championship, could fill the emptiness left by what he had let slip through his fingers.

And Y/n? She moved forward, just as determined, just as focused—but her heart carried the weight of a loss that could never truly be healed. She had once believed in the possibility of something more, but now she knew better. Some victories come with too much sacrifice, and some battles are never meant to be won.

Both of them would carry the memory of what could have been, each in their own way, as they moved through the world. But deep down, they both knew—no matter how far apart they were, a part of them would always remain with the other.

a/n: AYGHHH HIS SEXY ASS FINALLY GOT ANIMATED FOR LIKE 10 SECONDS BUT THATS OKAY

This also took me longer than I expected. It was supposed to be published on the 25th (Kaisers bday‼️😫)

[libraryofgage]

Harlequin Prince (3)

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually

Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One | Two | Three Harley Quinn One | Two | Three (you're here!) 10th Doctor and Rose One | Two Scooby Gang (there are plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz) Jedidiah and Octavius (from Night at the Museum) One | Two Queen Clarisse Renaldi One | Two | Three Leverage Crew One

So that Suicide Squad Isekai anime huh (it's great, I love it actually)

Anyway, I'll be playing fast and loose with Batman canon so all the batkids can be around at the same time have fun with that cuz I did (also forgive me if anyone is a little too OOC; i'm here for a good time not a long time), and the little flashback bit will continue in the next parts as Steve meets more batkids ^_^

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't UwU

----

Harley drops him off at Wayne Manor just after ten in the morning. She tugs a window open, carries him inside, kisses him on the forehead, and promises to pick him up in a week before climbing back out. Steve watches her until she's past the gate, clutching a Green Lantern plush his mother insisted he carry around because it'll annoy his Uncle Bruce.

Steve glances down at the plush, wishing his mother didn't have to go off on a mission when she'd just gotten out of Arkham two months ago. His wishes won't actually change anything, though, so he might as well make the best of his week with Uncle Bruce.

He turns on his heel, taking in the plain bedroom that will probably become his for the next few days. He holds the Green Lantern plush close and marches to the door, stepping out into the hall and choosing a random direction to walk in.

According to his mother, Wayne Manor can have anywhere between two and ten people staying in it at one time. She told him that Dick would be the most welcoming, if not the most confused, the girls would be the most fun, and Damien would be the most guarded, likely to consider him a threat for his entire stay.

It's just his luck that the first person he runs into is Damien. The other boy drops from the ceiling, blade of his sword glinting in the light as it comes to a stop just against Steve's neck. Steve freezes, glancing down at the sharp edge as Damien says, "Think very carefully before answering. Who are you, and what are you doing in my home?"

Steve looks away from the sword, tilting his head slightly as he shrugs. "I'm Steve. I'm staying here for a week," he says.

Damien's eyes narrow, and he takes a step closer, adjusting his arms so the katana doesn't move. "Says who? Does Father know you're here? Are you a spy sent by my mother?"

"Says my mom. Maybe. No," Steve replies.

A few more seconds pass before Damien hums. "Who's your mother?"

"Harley."

"Quinn?"

"Is there another?"

Slowly, Damien lowers the sword. "I suppose Quinn is somewhat reformed. How old are you?" he asks.

"Almost six."

"So, you're five," Damien says, nodding once. He sheathes his sword, apparently deciding Steve is no threat to him. "That makes me older than you, so you have to do what I say. Consider me your big brother for the week."

"Are you gonna make me hurt myself?"

"No."

"Mom said you wouldn't like me."

"Father said I should try being more trusting and welcoming. You are small and untrained, like a puppy. I could dismember you before you hurt me, which makes you ideal for practicing," Damien explains. He's quiet for a few seconds before getting a slight smirk. "Besides, it will greatly annoy my brothers if you obviously prefer me over them."

"I'm great at pretending as long as we can do fun stuff, too."

"Then we have a deal. You will act like I'm your favorite, and I will make sure you have fun."

Steve considers this, decides Damien is well on his way to actually being Steve's favorite, and steps closer. "Mom said Alfred makes the best cookies. Can we have some?"

"Yes," Damien says, "If you're hungry, then it's my responsibility to feed you as your big brother."

He offers his hand, seeming unsure when Steve takes it, like he isn't used to this kind of contact. Still, he doesn't pull away; he just hesitantly squeezes Steve's hand before leading him down the hall.

----

Not two days ago, Steve was telling himself he'd never set foot in Hawkins High School. Now, after getting the run down on the Upside Down (and holy shit did this place suddenly get a thousand times more interesting), Steve decides he'll just have to brave the brick walls to get Eddie out.

He leans forward on his motorcycle, arms resting on the handlebars as he looks up at the building. There's an American flag waving in the wind, faded paint on the outside, and security so lax it'd be suspicious in Gotham. Steve briefly considers leaving his helmet on, but he settles for placing it on the seat once he's off the motorcycle.

Walking into the school is easy. He doesn't even get stopped by the receptionist at the front desk. She just waves him in without looking up from her book. So, yeah, getting in is easy; figuring out where Eddie is might be a little harder.

He wanders the halls and stops the first student he sees, a girl with short brown hair carrying an unwieldy instrument case in her arms. Steve places his hands on the case and gently pushes down, flashing a grin when he can finally see her face. "Uh, can I help you?" she asks, her tone implying she very much does not want to help him.

"Yeah, I'm looking for someone," Steve says.

Her nose wrinkles slightly in disgust. "Listen, dingus, if this is some kind of pick-up line dare, save it," she says, rolling her eyes. She takes a step back and Steve follows.

"Nope, definitely not," he says, "You're not my type, sorry."

"Excuse me?"

"Well, unless you're not a girl...," he says, voice trailing off and eyebrow raising as he watches her understand his meaning.

She blinks, her shoulders rising some. She glances around, confirms the hallway is still empty, and relaxes. "Word of advice," she says, "don't just say that shit where anyone can hear. People aren't exactly nice about it around here."

Steve flashes a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, I can take care of myself, but thanks. Anyway, still looking for someone."

"Oh, right, uh, what's their name?"

"Eddie Munson. Know him?"

She blinks again, her eyebrows shooting up in slight disbelief. "Yeah, I know him. Whatcha need him for? He doesn't usually sell until after school."

Oh. Steve hums softly, filing away that tidbit of information for later. "Not here to buy. I'm here to take him somewhere fun," he says.

A few seconds pass in which the girl looks at Steve, drops her gaze to the instrument case between them, and then glances around the empty hall. "Well, shit, man, I wanna go somewhere fun, too."

Steve considers her for a moment, trying to figure out the logistics of fitting her and Eddie on his bike. Well, he can just have her sit on the handlebars or something. "Okay, but the instrument won't fit," he tells her.

The grin he gets in return tells him that won't be a problem. "Name's Robin, by the way."

This has to be fate, right?

"Steve. Nice to meetcha, Robin."

Robin's grin gets even wider, and Steve knows they'll be great friends.

---

"Eddie usually sits in a corner," Robin says, standing at the edge of the cafeteria with Steve. It's teeming with life, and Steve hears snippets of conversations that blur into one dull roar that settles over the space. It reminds him of bars in Gotham even more than the actual bars he's visited here in Hawkins.

He can't see into the corners from here, but that doesn't bother him. "Wait here," he says, flashing a grin at Robin before walking to a mostly empty table. He climbs onto it, reaches into one of his jacket's inner pockets, and pulls out an air horn.

Steve waits long enough to see Robin cover her ears before raising the horn in the air and pressing down. It blares through the room, drowning out conversations and forcing people at the surrounding tables to cover their ears. A few more seconds pass before Steve lets up on the horn, grinning widely at the sea of eyes turned towards him.

"I'm looking for Eddie Munson," he says, twirling the air horn in the palm of his hand.

Instead of a verbal answer, he watches as the eyes turn from him to a corner across the room. A few people even duck close to their tables to clear Steve's line of sight, allowing him to see a confused Eddie sitting with his friends.

Steve grins, pockets the air horn, and starts making his way across the cafeteria. He walks on tables, jumps between them, and narrowly avoids stepping on more than one tray along the way. By the time he reaches Eddie's table, most of the students have gone back to their lunches and conversations.

"How's it going, Eds?" Steve asks, crouching in front of Eddie with a grin. He glances at the other boys by him, notes the identical Hellfire Club shirts, and nods in acknowledgement.

"Better now," Eddie says, his startled blink telling Steve he definitely didn't mean to say that out loud.

Steve somehow grins wider. "Wanna make like a banana and split? I've got somewhere fun in mind," he says, popping up from his crouch before hopping off the table and into the narrow space between Eddie's chair and his friend's.

"Dude, really?" one of his friends asks. "We have a session today."

Eddie looks torn at that realization, halfway standing and stuck like that. "That we do, Gare-bear," he says, defeat bringing his shoulders down.

"In that case, consider this a kidnapping," Steve tells them, grabbing Eddie's hand and pulling him up. He wraps his arm around Eddie's shoulders, winks at his friends, and promises, "I'll have him home before six, though."

Eddie's friends exchange glances, and Steve graciously pretends not to notice the puppy dog eyes Eddie aims at them. After a few seconds, one of them stands up, towering over Steve and outweighing him by a good bit. He clears his throat, glances at the other two, and tries to sound intimidating as he says, "Make it five thirty, and no funny business."

Steve nods and offers a mocking two-finger salute. "Yes, sir," he replies, flashing a grin before taking Eddie's bag from his seat and dragging him to where Robin is waiting.

"So, where are you kidnapping me to?" Eddie asks, managing to stick close to Steve despite having to weave through chairs and tables.

"Nothing special, really. Just an abandoned laboratory in the middle of the woods that has a gateway to another dimension filled with faceless monsters. Oh, and Robin's coming, too. Don't worry, though, I won't let you get hurt. "

He glances over to meet Eddie's wide eyes, something warm curling behind his ribs when Eddie finally smiles and whispers under his breath, "Fucking metal."

-----

Tag List (definitely still room, so let me know if you'd like to be tagged!):

@nectandra, @y4r3luv, @just-a-tiny-void, @dotdot-wierdlife

@midwestharpy, @twilitdragoneye, @disrespectedgoatman

@lawrencebshoggoth,

And now, a meme:

[cookierunoutofideas]

The Bride (Pure Vanilla x fem!Reader) [Part 1]

Corpse Bride AU, I choose you! Also, I can't deal with cookie anatomy, so we're pretending cookies have fingers and all that jazz. Possibly OOC. No beta, we crumble like Elder Faerie Cookie. One-sided PureLily.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

“Sigh any more, my friend, and the breath of life might escape you.”

"Light of Truth?"

"Correct! I apologize for my silence and for worrying you, but regaining my consciousness after Shadow Milk's interference was a bit difficult."

"After all, he was your original holder..."

"Wrong. I am the Light of Truth, my first and only holder is you, Pure Vanilla Cookie. The Light of Knowledge is no more."

Pure Vanilla Cookie doesn't answer, his mood still gloomy as he wanders through the odd woods of Beast Yeast. He knows he should believe his soul jam, or at least give it the benefit of doubt, but after the taunts from Shadow Milk Cookie, he finds it hard to simply accept.

And isn't that his greatest sin, anyway? To run away from what he is unable of accepting. To run away and allow for doubts to eat away at his pitiful will.

"My friend, the moment you allow his words to become your reality is the moment he has won," the Light of Truth warns him softly. "If you cannot trust me-"

"That's-"

"If you cannot trust me, and I understand why that is, then I ask you to trust your beloved White Lilly Cookie."

Unable to fake his emotions to his own soul jam, which has become a very piece of himself after so many years together, Pure Vanilla doesn't try to stop the faint blush that rushes to his cheeks. He remembers, long ago, complaining about the unseemingly shade it makes his dough... and the sweetest compliment from White Lily Cookie, to this day making the visage of his blush something to be endeared by instead of ashamed.

"Ah, there it is~" Sometimes Pure Vanilla wonders if the others are also close enough to their soul jams to be teased like this, or if his is just particularly playful. "Young love~"

"Not quite that young anymore, old friend."

"Nonsense, you're but a baby!"

A soft laughter follows the quip. The moon rises over the thick trees. He knows he shouldn't wander too far from the fae cookies and his friends, not only for their safety but his own, this is Beast Yeast after all, but the silence of the barely illuminated woods calms his mind. He needs some time for himself, some time to place his thoughts in place and his feelings in the deepest corners of his being.

There is no time for them.

Plus, out of all the suffering he knows he will inevitably face in the land of beasts, a broken heart is not one he is particularly looking forwards to. He has avoided it for so long now, it can wait one more adventure, specially one with an enemy so eager to use whatever he's given to hurt Pure Vanilla and his group.

With a heavy sigh, he finds a thick root under a big tree, the perfect height for a seat, and sits down, resting his staff on his shoulder.

"Your feelings will not leave if you sigh harder."

"I know, I know. I just... I can't help it..."

"... talking about them might help, however."

"What can I ever tell you that you don't already know?"

"Isn't it better, then? To already have the certainty I will not mock you no matter what slips past your lips?"

That... is true. One thing Pure Vanilla Cookie tries hard to keep to himself is the insecurity of having his honest thoughts and feelings mocked by those who truly matter to him. He can brush off most taunts quite easily, but to have his defining trait be invalidated by someone he cherishes is the same as having a millino needles go through his dough. It is agony.

Rather ironic that Shadow Milk Cookie isn't in that category, but the connection forged by their soul jams places the jester in a very peculiar place with Pure Vanilla. He hits the other great insecurity of the healer: the fear of not being enough.

The Ancient Hero who carries The Light of Truth, everyone. A being full of doubts and fears, not quite heroic as the fairytales he once heard.

"It certainly will help with that terrible habit of yours."

"Are you that tired of my thoughts?"

"Lying to one self is the biggest lie of all."

Knowing he won't ever be capable of winning against the Light of Truth, Pure Vanilla Cookie can only laugh under his breath before starting his monologue. He allows himself to return to his times as a student, a silly baby cookie with a big dream and bigger homework piles. A simpler time where his greatest objective was to find his best friend and bask in her presence. Make heart eyes at her as she poured over multiple books stolen directly from the reserved sections of the library. Feel his heart skip beats every time she graced him with a look and a smile. Hold her hand as they giggle their way to their secret place with more stolen books under their arms. Dream of a future where they face life after the Academy together as one.

"I still carry the ring," he tells The Light of Truth, pulling said ring from one of his many hidden pockets. "As foolish and hopeless as that dream is, I can't bring myself to simply let go of it."

"To think you were so close to proposing..." if The Light of Truth had lungs, it would be sighing heavily right about now.

"Not really proposing, it's more... a promise ring. White Lily Cookie is far too free spirited to settle down and I'd hate to become her ball and chain."

"Did you add that to your proposal-I mean, the confession speech?" Pure Vanilla ignores the jab, choosing to nod only, fingers carefully caressing the ring.

It truly isn't a proposal ring. He means it when he says he'd never take away White Lily Cookie's freedom, even if that meant giving up his early childhood dreams of settling down somewhere with a flock of sheeps and a beautiful garden. Becoming the king to an entire kingdom only fueled that resolve, for he learned fast how stifling the life of a royal can be.

(And if the knowledge that White Lily Cookie now has no choice but to stay in one place to keep an eye on the Silver Tree brings hope to his heart, he guiltly shoves it away.)

"I'm not sure, I wrote and rewrote it so many times. If I'm not mistaken, it goes a bit like...

"My dear beloved, you are the one in my heart and mind, from the very moment we first locked eyes. The nights I've spent watching the moonlight as it pales in comparison to your visage were endless, and will continue to be," Pure Vanilla raises the ring to the moon. It is a thin band of silver with a delicate vanilla flower that glints golden under the light of the moon.

"With this ring, I wish to seal our fates together, though never in a way that takes your freedom. No, this is merely a promise to always find each other no matter how lost we become. To always know the other stands with us no matter the distance between us. To always say goodbye with the knowledge it shall never be the last no matter how long we stay away," feeling bold like his younger self, he theatrically lowered his body in one knee, hearing his old companion laugh at his antics in his mind.

"With this ring, I give myself to you and selfishly ask you give yourself to me, so we may forever belong with each other. Will you accept it?"

Finishing his frankly embarrassing monologue, Pure Vanilla Cookie slips the ring on one branch of the roots. At the back of his mind, he notices that the branch looks like a finger and that it comes from a thicker branch that looks like a hand, however he is far too euphoric to truly pay attention.

He misses theater class.

No hands, yet he can tell The Light of Truth claps at his performance, making him laugh in a way he hasn't done in some time.

Still on his knee, he leans forward to take the ring back.

The roots of the tree shake, probably with the wind.

He gently takes hold of the ring.

The roots snap closed around his fingers, tugging him harshly towards the ground.

"I do."

[mysteryoftwilight]

Tag Dump - General

[The Red Hood || Muse]

[Shell || In Character]

[Thanks Disembodied Voice || Mun & OoC]

[The Light of The One Great || OoC Answer]

[You Have One Missed Message || Inbox]

[Another Weirdo || Promo]

[Muse Strikes at the Strangest Times || Prompt]

[Hair of Ketchup & Skin of Mayonnaise || Crack]

[Waiting on the Clocktower || Queue]

[A Sketch Carries a Thousand Emotions || Drabble]

[That’s Going in the Cringe Comp (affectionate) || Saved]

[I’m Not Saying Anything || Wishlist]

[Please Don’t Talk to Me || Open Starter]

[Wow These People are Weird; Thank Cosmos I’m Normal || Dashboard Commentary]

[Self-Reflection || Headcanons]

[There’s No Time for Games (I have work in an hour) || Dash Games]

[Self-Portraits || Art]

[ohdeerfully]

hi!! i absolutely love your writing, you write alastor so so well and i absolutely devoured everything you have posted... would you by any chance be open to writing alastor with a f!reader who has an eating disorder/anorexia? <3 it's a triggering topic so i totally understand if you'd rather not! 💖 i've just recently been stressed about feeling like i need to lose weight again despite already having lost quite a lot and it just feels. never enough, so i would much appreciate some comfort! thank you for sharing your writing with us! 💖

hi my love!! i know you requested this some time ago, and i hope youve been feeling better (,: i also struggle with this type of thing so i 100% dont mind writing about it, but just know that you are super beautiful and worth every sweet treat and meal you get!!! mwah mwah mwah i hope you like the story ^.^

Ma Moitié

Alastor x Reader (fluff/comfort)

TW: eating disorder!!! alastor is def OOC hes being a sweetie pie join my discord!

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You always had a poor relationship with your body and food, in life and in death. You went through periods of weight loss, gain, loss again—some seemingly never ending cycle that no amount of therapy has managed to halt.

Your mind was currently weighing the pros and cons of eating the slice of cake offered to you by Charlie. She was celebrating the arrival of a few new residents, the first to arrive since the last extermination. The news really helped the hotel garner some attention, that plus the fancy new renovation Lucifer himself helped with… needless to say, Charlie was thrilled. So, she threw a little party. You had been standing awkwardly near the doorway, trying to find an opportunity to slip away from the small party. But you doubted you could escape without your absence being noticed; there really weren't that many people here to begin with.

You had accepted the cake out of sheer politeness, but you now just held the plate loosely in your hands, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you thought. You’ve been feeling particularly… susceptible to the calories in food lately. You considered the fact that you hadn’t eaten much today—or, honestly, the whole week for that matter. It shouldn’t hurt to just have one slice of cake. Just this once.

But… still… 

You frowned down at the cake. Picking up the plastic fork, you took a tiny chunk from it and lifted it to your lips. Your lips quivered as the food touched your tongue, and you felt sick as you chewed. You managed to swallow after an unnecessarily long few seconds of chewing, and you continued to just stare down at your plate. You didn’t think you’d be able to handle another bite.

Niffty had seen the sickly expression on your face, and loudly started throwing questions at you. Were you sick? Did you hate the party? Why didn’t you like the cake she made? Her loud voice was growing in volume, and catching the attention of a few other demons in the room. You tried various ways to shush her, attempting to answer her questions politely, but you felt your heart rate pick up at the obviously growing number of eyes.

“I’m not incredibly fond of sweets myself,” You heard that radio-afflicted voice pipe up from behind. You couldn’t help but jump at the unexpected presence, but you turned your head with a light smile. Alastor was looking curiously down at Niffty and you. 

“Ah, yeah, the cake’s great, I just… don’t like dessert that much…” You lied. You actually really liked cake, but it had been a long time since you were actually able to enjoy it without feeling intensely guilty about it. The tiny demon made a fussy comment about how nobody appreciated her and all of her hard work, stomping away. Her mood didn’t last, though, immediately getting caught up in cleaning something you couldn’t even see. 

You turned your head to thank Alastor, but you saw his smile drop slightly as he looked at you. The demon bent at the waist to lean down, his mouth near your ear and his usually boisterous voice quieted to a whisper. “Is everything alright, mon coeur?”

You felt your face heat up, both at the words he spoke and the proximity. You and Alastor had been quietly ‘official’ for quite a while now, but you weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to the small gestures of affection from the Radio Demon. It felt weird if you thought about it too long.

“I’m okay, just…” You weren’t sure how open you wanted to be about how you were feeling. Alastor knew about your poor body image and eating habits, but he truthfully never really knew how to go about comforting you. Plus, you felt as if your personal struggles were trivial to a literal Overlord of Hell. You didn’t want to bother him with your own shit.

“I’m fine,” You finally decided. You could tell Alastor knew you were lying, with that furrow of his eyebrows, but he stood up straight and didn’t push. You sighed and gently placed the plate of cake down on a small entryway table by the door you had been lurking near.

“I’ll get us out of here,” He declared with a wide smile, and he strode forward to where Charlie stood talking to the group of new guests. She knew Alastor was approaching due to the look of horror that slowly crossed the new demon’s faces. You couldn’t quite hear what they were saying, but it looked like she briefly scolded Alastor for being so damn intimidating for no reason.

They chatted for a moment, and you could hear the Radio Demon’s obnoxious laughter from across the room. He gestured to himself, then to you, to which Charlie looked in your direction. You shot her a small smile. She smiled back, nodded, and turned away to continue talking to the new residents—who all had been slowly inching away from Alastor. They looked incredibly relieved when he left the group.

He gave you a grin and wordlessly threaded his arm around yours, linking you at the elbow. You lifted your hand to give his upper arm an appreciative squeeze as you left the room. Your eyes lingered on the abandoned slice of cake as you walked away, feeling guilty in more ways than one.

Alastor had led you to your room, releasing your arm and leaning his body weight on his cane as he looked down at you. You glanced up at him, then back down, pursing your lips as you stared at anything else in the room.

“I hate when demons lie to me,” He said, eyes narrowed. Of course, you knew he wasn’t truly mad at you. Maybe frustrated. “What’s wrong.” It was more like a statement than a question. A demand.

You sat heavily down on the edge of your bed, fiddling with your fingers. 

“I don’t know, Al,” You muttered. You hated this. “I just… You know how I get sometimes.” It somehow felt so silly, telling him about this. 

Alastor had sat down next to you, his arm wrapped over your shoulder and a clawed hand rubbing up and down your forearm. You could tell his touch was light, awkward, unsure—but the gesture was appreciated nonetheless. While Alastor typically had no problem overstepping boundaries and shoving demons around purely to aggravate them, he obviously had no real idea how to be intimate and kind. But he tried for you.

He took his other hand and slipped it under your legs, swiftly lifting you and pulling you further up the bed. He leaned his body against the headboard, and dragged you over to lay your torso against his own.

“I don’t understand why you worry about all this, dear,” He mused, his fingers threading through your hair. His other hand graced past your stomach, which caused you to subconsciously flinch away. You felt his hand pause, but he didn’t mention it.

“I wish I didn’t have to,” You responded slowly, your cheek squished against his chest. “But I’ve dealt with this since I was alive. I feel like it’ll never get better.”

“Dearest, you have a whole eternity here,” He mused in response. He placed a finger under your chin and craned your head to meet his gaze. “You need to be strong to survive down here; to stay sane. A healthy body leads to a healthy mind.”

Of course Alastor was always thinking about strength and survival. He was an Overlord, after all. You didn’t respond to him, but you kept looking at him as he spoke. There was an odd look in his eyes as he talked.

“Plus,” He continues. His words were slow, and his mouth moved as if the words tasted unnatural on his tongue. This uncertainty that touched the Radio Demon’s voice was… rare, to say the least. “I want to see ma moitié happy. I am… incredibly devoted to you.”

Your ear pricked when you noticed the radio frequency in his voice completely dropped when he spoke the words. That look in his eyes—you finally recognized it as some odd sense of passion and endearment. An emotion that you could tell confused him, with the strain in his brow as he examined you. He meant the words he said, no matter how unnatural they felt leaving his mouth.

You rested your head back down on his chest. You knew this conversation wouldn’t “cure” you or anything, but you hoped that maybe you could think back on his words everytime your hands shook as you held a fork to your mouth. Of all demons in Hell, Alastor’s opinion was probably the most important to you, and you knew his devotion wouldn’t halt because of a few pounds; Alastor had to be deeply, deeply passionate about you to even let you lay on top of him like this.

You only hummed in response, and simply rested your head back against his chest. You hugged your arm tightly against him to try to convey that you appreciated his words, but you didn’t really know what to say.

“Would you join me for breakfast tomorrow?” Alastor asked after a few minutes of comfortable silence. “I know this wonderful place that I frequent for coffee…” 

You thought for a moment, again weighing the pros and cons; a habit that you struggled to drop when it came to meals. Your mind was buzzing with thoughts of what kind of food might be there, and if you should ration out the meals for the rest of the day. But, you felt the thoughts melt away when Alastor’s hand rubbed a comforting circle against your cheek, and then trailing down towards your shoulder in a light squeeze.

“Okay,” you finally said. It wouldn’t hurt to have a decent meal for once. You pulled yourself up onto your elbows again to look at Alastor. “Sounds awesome.”

His smile twisted up, his teeth peeking through a small gap in his lips. His head inched forward, but then paused, and you could tell his mind was racing with various thoughts. You waited for him to decide and, after a few moments, he closed the gap and lightly pressed his lips against yours. It was brief, as most intimate contact with him was, but you enjoyed it while it lasted.

“You will always be my only weakness,” Alastor admitted tenderly. “The most captivating demon in all of Hell.”

You couldn’t stop the shy smile that spread across your face at his words. You sputtered out some awkward response, to which he simply hummed and smiled at. He closed his eyes and rested his head back against the headboard, his fingers still playing with your hair gently.

You followed suit, resting your head against his chest and closing your own eyes. You didn’t even realize how tired you were, too caught up in the rare intimacy with Alastor. You let your worries of breakfast fade away, choosing to just enjoy the warmth of his body so close to yours.

[corviiids]

If i ask nicely, would you consider writing the core of Light and L character like you did for Shuake? (IT'S BRILLIANT BTW!! You're so galazy brain. I love reading any meta or just silly posts you posted here <3) because you mention Light a couple time in Akechi's part and now i need to know your thought on him and L.

(Also, about the death note wip you're cooking right now, is it a oneshot or multiple chapters fic? Im super excited for it!)

i ABSOLUTELY would thank you so much for asking and for your lovely kind words. and im sorry this took me seven years to get to i just kept psyching myself out.

here's the ren & goro post this ask refers to for anyone wondering. the 'core' refers to my answer to a writing meme:

26. What would you describe as OOC? [...] it's the same approach i take to language tbh particularly in pronunciation. once you understand how a language forms its sounds at a base level, you dont struggle with the accent on particular words, and you can encounter words you've never seen before and understand how they're likely to be said/spelled/etc. so once i learn to 'speak' a character they come more naturally. idk if that comparison makes sense to anyone else but it does to meeeee all this to say i think a character is ooc if they do or say something i cant reconcile with that core!

the death note wip is a multichap!! thank you for your interest!!! ill talk about it more once i've stopped tying myself in knots plotting it!! broadly it's a what-if type au which has led me to replot an entire series from scratch dont look at me

anyway lawlight below. i will say ive been really desperately wanting to do like a video essay or something about death note which would be a lot about L and light specifically and how i interpret their characters so ill try and not go toooooo insane in this post but maybe ill go more insane later. in a video. with my human voice.

(edit: i failed i went insane)

light - one-way road to the sky

ok let's talk about one of my favourite scenes of the entire series, which i think is widely not super well understood but honestly to me holds the key to light's entire character. it's right there in volume 1

sorry, the only digital copy ive got on hand is the scanlation. for comparison the official print copy reads:

bubble 1: hey, maki, wanna party tomorrow with some guys from s. college? ten o'clock. bubble 2: yeah, totally! bubble 3: hey, can i go too? bubble 4: my mom isn't here yet? what's that nag doing, geez! light (thinking): damn... light (thinking): start looking around you... light (thinking): and all you see are people the world would be better off without.

this happens within the first 40 pages of the first volume. and it's like. haha hey light what the fuck? this is a totally normal scene in everyday life. people are talking about living their lives. nobody's done anything remotely reprehensible in this scene. and light's just walking through the streets experiencing apparently unprompted and quite extreme misanthropy. what's wrong with him

ok let's have a quick look at the first time we meet light in the anime.

[...]

[...]

cool cool cool im gonna pivot again let's look at the first song (besides the overture) in the musical.

ok rook! we get it! light yagami is out here like damn we live in a society time to kill people about it. this is news to nobody! we all know this!! that's what the series is about! why are we rehashing all of this

great. cool. awesome. let's look at all those scenes one more time. but this time don't look at light. instead let's look at the people around him

in the opening shots of the anime (after the shinigami world, which actually is much the same theme): news of brutal murder is narrated over establishing shots of tokyo. light is shown dead-eyed, going about his ordinary life, surrounded by random other civilians doing the same thing.

in the musical, light isn't angry that murders happen. he's angry about the inaction and complicity of the ordinary people around him.

these scenes aren't highlighting that light thinks crime is bad. we all know crime is bad. the point of these scenes is to contrast light's frustration and fury against the reactions of the people around him. here's what light yagami is seeing: we're surrounded with rot. but nobody's reacting. and then life just goes on. so suddenly all those completely normal scenes of people being concerned with the superficial details of their life aren't just normality, they're complicity. day in, day out. so the world is rotting, and to light, it seems that everyone is completely ok with that. that's just the way things are. and that disgusts and depresses him. on top of than that, it isolates him: he feels like he's the only one who sees or cares about this, that everyone dismisses him as naive, that no one else can be trusted, that everyone else is able to ignore something he sees as inexcusable. this is a sentiment he repeats again and again. it reads as arrogance, and it is, but it's also isolation - after all it's lonely at the top and just as lonely to feel like you're at the top even if you arent

can i talk about the iliad again? is that ok with everyone. im gonna talk about the iliad again

in book 1 of the iliad, the commander of the greek army insults achilles by publicly and unlawfully taking a prize (the girl briseis) who rightfully belonged to achilles. achilles reacts by withdrawing his troops from the army, dooming the greeks' campaign. achilles had a lot of friends in the army, so why would he essentially sentence them all to death for something that only agamemnon did? well, (because agamemnon did something publicly that everyone knew was wrong, and yet nobody was willing (or at least able) to stand up for achilles and stop it from happening. achilles, disgusted by the inaction of the bystanders, turned his back on all of them. fun fact i nearly wrote a mini thesis (an academic one not just a long post on tumblr) about the intersection btwn this book of the iliad and legal theory but law+classics is such a niche interdisciplinary field my professor couldnt find anyone who could supervise me so i couldnt do it. anyway that's not the point

is this right or fair? who cares, not the point. what im interested in is what that kind of behaviour says about the individual. light, like achilles, is a highly idealistic person. we all know that in the abstract, but take a second to really really dig into it, because it's actually quite an interesting fact about a character who is popularly understood as being cold and unfeeling or flatly psychotic and on a power trip. idealism isn't naivety, it's not optimism, it's not even really a happy thing. idealism is simply a firm belief in the way things should be at the cost of refusing or being unable to accept what is.

this is the core of light yagami to me. light doesn't become kira because he's cold or destructive or crazy. he doesn't actually even do it because he's spiteful or misanthropic. it's very much the opposite. he's misanthropic because he believes in the world so much. isn't that a great contradiction! ok here i'll show you some proof.

in an early scene (also in volume 1), light describes himself as an optimist and ryuk finds that interesting.

so light is an optimist. he believes in a bright future for humanity. he wants to protect humanity. he likes humanity. no, he doesn't believe that people are inherently good, but he does believe in some goodness as a part of humanity and wants to protect the best of people, in an egotistical way:

how do we reconcile that with a young man who walks through the streets listening to completely ordinary conversations by ordinary people and reacts by wishing death on everyone talking?

let's split out what's going on here. remember what's happening in light's head. light yagami is 17 years old. he grew up with a police chief for a father (in a fictional world where the police are the literary stand-in for law as justice so just pretend for a second that police are good im sorry), watching his father work tirelessly to fight crime - but crime continues, making this an endless, thankless task. and while crime continues, so does the world around him. every day light sees atrocities on the news, and he sees atrocities brought home, and then he lives his ordinary life and watches the people around him apparently not give a shit, only concerned with the petty details of their own little lives. bystanders watching wrong happen, selfishly unaffected. day in, day out. that idealism is getting colder the longer this unendurable injustice goes on. so achilles condemns his friends to death.

what human trait is being exhibited? realistically it's helplessness. would being miserable about crime help to end crime? of course not. people have to go on with their lives, that's a fact, it's even a strength. even light begins the series completely unable to do a thing about the rot he sees around him, which is part of why he's so depressed. but that's not what light is seeing. light is seeing ordinary people appear to choose not to give a fuck about injustice. the thing that's sparking his disgust is apathy, real or apparent. light yagami is an idealist. he wants a better future - a utopia that only he can imagine - something that can only happen if either everyone becomes as good as he is, or he takes control.

if you leave an idealist in an unwinnable situation for too long, their pure belief will start to curdle. it will not turn to realism. they will not accept what is. they will only become more and more bitter that what should be, isn't. they will become a cynicist. this is really the heart of my argument and ive made it a million times and ill make it again. idealism and cynicism are not opposites, they're not even two sides of a coin. they are two points on the same line which moves very quickly in only one direction. this is where i start when im writing him: how do i make someone who believes so hard that it's killing him? someone who believes so hard it makes him believe in nothing?

then we find the third point on that line, which someone can reach by gaining sudden power - for example, a magic notebook that kills people: radicalisation.

how do we reconcile his desire to protect humanity with the fact that what he's trying to protect against is also humanity? how can i say light loves humanity when he has such disdain for them? easy peasy: light sees himself as the messiah. my bumper sticker that says ask me about light's martyr complex PLEASE ask me about light's martyr complex i wrote a song about it ask me about light seeing himself as the sacrificial lamb on the (and then the bumper sticker cuts off)

light loves humanity the way a twisted shepherd might love his sheep. something to be protected, but something beneath you that can't be trusted to know what's best for them. humanity is something he loves because it's endearingly pathetic, something to pity and save. repeatedly he refers to becoming kira as a personal sacrifice, something that costs him his soul but that he has to do. it's a delusion of grandeur driven by dual purposes of ego and some desperate wish to change a status quo he's been despairing about for years.

tl;dr: light believes with all his soul in something he thinks is impossible, and it's killing him slowly, and then a chance to change the world just falls out of the sky

L - isolate yourself until you can make believe it's just a game

steeples fingers. i have Things to Say about L Lawliet.

ok listen. listen. Listen. listen. are you listening? listen. in general i think people kind of misunderstand characters who are hyper-intellectual and/or behave unconventionally in social settings. you're all going to fucking kill me for this but i think there's a tendency to like... accidentally turn any character who falls vaguely in this broad category into sheldon cooper. god im sorry i feel like i just shot everyone's collective dog

specifically what i mean by that is that 'awkward' gets flanderised in a way that eventually becomes a caricature of itself, because there is so much nuance to actual social awkwardness that it's very easy to kind of pick a template and stick to it without really thinking about what makes that character 'awkward' and what the root and type of awkwardness is, unique to them. so instead we just get, like... generic big word user. generic driven by logic and logic alone guy. generic guy who doesn't Do Well with other people, for Smart Reasons.

here's a list of true things about L which i think are safe to say are uncontroversial

intuitive

logical, master of deductive reasoning

competitive

behaves in an odd way that draws attention

is aware of that fact

focuses extremely hard on his cases and only cares about being a detective not anything else

isolates himself and doesn't like talking to people partly for his own safety partly because it's boring to him

here are things i have seen in characterisation of L which i would like to dispute

makes decisions and draws conclusions based solely on logic and evidence

doesn't understand social cues

here's a list of alternate interpretations which i would like to propose and that i am willing to back up with evidence and/or by physically fighting over them

is driven primarily not by logic or evidence, but by incredible intuition which is supported by logic and evidence when it suits him

has a keen understanding of people, interpersonal relationships, and social norms

leverages that understanding frequently to his benefit

feels that he is not capable of / not a part of emotions that he sees as being typically human (see his speech about being a monster)

and yet in an abstract and self-contradictory and low-priority way still kind of desires connection, leaving him emotionally isolated

chooses to behave oddly on purpose, not because he doesn't realise he's behaving oddly, but because it is not a priority for him

those might seem like fine distinctions at some points, but stray slightly off the mark and his characterisation begins to vary wildly. for example, interpret L as being bemused or unaware of social cues, and one possible characterisation that may stem from that understanding (which i have seen) is that L doesn't understand sarcasm or jokes - which is demonstrably untrue. L demonstrates weak social skills because social skills aren't a priority for him, not because he doesn't understand social norms. after all he does a reasonably convincing 'i am a normal dudeguy' voice on at least two occasions (suzuki the information line guy and asahi the calling matsuda for drinks guy). even with the taskforce, when his behaviour is more of his usual bizarre self, he still makes the effort to treat them respectfully and meet them where they are, explaining himself when they ask, chatting with them, holding ordinary conversations. you can read this any number of ways but my point is that he can do all of this with relatively little struggle

it's also very much not the case that L doesn't have feelings or care about other people. he's ruthless and he's cool with causing people to die if he has to, but he reacts with visible distress to the deaths of the FBI agents, to ukita's death, to the prospect of other members of the taskforce dying. he does care, he's just not morally driven as a priority.

ok but if he can cosplay as Normal Dudeguy with no trouble then why doesn't he. why does he conduct all his business in dark rooms apart from the entire world forever. is it gauche to use a section of my own fic to explain my point? im going to do it anyway

It is easy to identify in Light what he has long known in himself. That little pearl of disruption, grown around an irritating grain of something just unique and tremendous enough to be uncomfortable to the more ordinary around them. L has hidden it by hiding himself. Light has hidden it by hiding within himself. L's black letter is to Light’s vapid smile is to Kira's invisible bullet.

(honestly a lot of what i have discussed here is also covered in this fic so in case this fucking three thousand word essay is not enough for you you can go read that.)

something L and light significantly have in common is that their intellect and unique way of thinking really set them apart from everyone in the world, which is incredibly isolating. but while L has the 'benefit' (arguably could be a detriment but i think he sees it as a benefit) of a unique upbringing which allows him to use his skills to their full extent without worrying about really anything else, light is very much trapped by social convention. while light's life is privileged and materially perfect, he's stuck inside what society expects of him, while L is able to exist completely outside that paradigm. the result is that light has retreated within himself and spends all day playing a part, barely tolerating the monotony and apathy of the world around him by mechanically performing as expected while smothering the part of him that never has an opportunity to truly come out until kira. L, on the other hand, has no reason to put up with a society that is, for lack of a better term, really just beneath him. so he retreats. remember that the first volume/chapter of the manga is called 'boredom'.

you can see that even in his comparatively limited interactions with the task force, he is having to exercise a level of patience to explain to them what he's thinking at every stage, to have to defend his methods, his instincts, his decisions, etc, needing to step through every stage of his reasoning so that the others can follow and won't object. this is NOT just about masking his odd behaviour, it's also very much about having to step through his morals and his process, which is second nature to him but is new to everyone else and needs explaining. it is visibly exhausting to him, and this is with people he actually seems to like well enough. eg during yotsuba arc when light and soichiro keep raising moral concerns, and he has those little "here we go again" moments (which i love SO much and are so telling of him to me) even though he doesn't let his frustration show. which is why he usually does not bother with it and prefers to work alone. he sits the way he does even though he knows it's odd, because he feels he need to sit that way. when light calls it out, he doesn't question that people will think he's strange, so he's clearly aware. he just explains himself.

but if he were out with people on the regular, he'd need to defend himself constantly. the things L does are not conventional. yes the sitting is just an oddity of his so it's a good example, but it's not just the things that are odd that cause a problem: he frequently makes decisions which seem to make massive leaps of logic nobody else (except light) can follow, and often his actions are morally questionable or even reprehensible. all that is because L is extremely pragmatic and results-focused. it kind of doesn't matter to him how he gets from A to B as long as he gets to B. but the way his mind works is that he makes big jumps that make perfect sense to him but would draw curiosity or objection from anyone who doesn't think the way he does. it would be absolutely exhausting to have to constantly defend every strange or questionable thing he did, so he just retreats.

when he works with other people, i think it's worth noting that the team dynamic never actually struggles for L's awkwardness. this is something i really like about death note honestly - L is quirky and strange, but the series doesn't do that thing where it's like He's A Genius Of Course He's Rude To Everyone. he's actually not. for the most part, L is courteous, patient, and polite. he's sometimes blunt or abrupt, but he very rarely does the thing where he's obliviously cruel or brushes people off. he's considerate of people's needs, he's visibly compassionate of other people's emotional difficulties, and he very rarely loses his patience. when matsuda tries to tell the locked-up light about kira resuming activity, L snaps "Matsuda!" to stop him, and then immediately corrects himself to go "I mean, Matsuda-san." it would have been really easy for the series to do that tropey shit where he's so smart that he doesn't bother with politeness, but he factually does. he makes the effort to treat people politely even when he's not actually being kind. when he's asked to explain himself, the reader can see he's tired and annoyed, but he doesn't take it out on people. on the odd occasion he does make fun of someone for being slow, he does so in mostly light-hearted ways. so he is very capable of dealing with other people directly. his lack of social skills aren't for lack of understanding. he just can't be bothered. it's a waste of energy to try and behave 'normally' or to do things that other people find acceptable, whether that's due to social norm or common morality. it is so, so much easier for L to do things alone. without the need to explain or defend his behaviour to anyone, his isolation turns real world problems into something almost purely theoretical. so it really is like a game for him, at least at first.

whatever

i think it's really important for a character like L to not be fooled by the surface-level categorisation of 'smart awkward character'. we really need to find what's driving his awkwardness. it's not ignorance, it's not even really disdain, it's exasperation. he's tired of being surrounded by people who just can't keep up with him, and he does not have enough energy or interest to spend his time handholding everyone through his process, so he just does whatever the hell he wants and avoids people as much as possible so he doesn't have to deal with it.

look i know this is a really long way to say stuff that people mostly already know, but i think L is one of the most finely nuanced characters in the series because he looks like such a simple expression of a known archetype and the ways in which he subverts expectations are so granular that it's easy to completely miss them even while appreciating how interesting he is. the way this translates into how i write him is that he's polite and has a lot of patience until he simply doesn't, at which point he'll inwardly or subtly express that he wishes he didn't have to bother with this shit, that he picks up on fine social and emotional details that other people will totally miss, but that he'll always put his own whims and plans before anything else.

tl;dr: L behaves like someone who is constantly moving at his own pace and for whom dealing with people is rarely worth the effort, but this does not make him inept or unkind.

[its-weeping]

𝐩𝐨𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡. | tsukishima kei

࣪ ִֶָ☾. synopsis. a small argument results in long-term consequences.

cw. light angst, insecurities, ooc, suggestive stuff towards the end

notes. did you guys know tsukki is actually really insecure about himself?

why did you ever think dating an outwardly rude guy was such a great idea?

there you were, sobbing into your pillow because the both of you had an argument. the whole thing was just idiotic in a sense; the argument started out with a discussion about something stupid but turned heated as you both went on and on.

of course, the two of you had had arguments before but they weren't to the extent that you had to press pause on the relationship.

that was the exact reason you were currently sobbing.

it was never excepted that this argument would have tsukishima impulsively pause the relationship.

you didn't get to cry for long as your eyelids felt heavy and before you knew it, you had fallen asleep.

the next day was hell because you had to act like nothing was wrong—like everything was perfect in your life. the most popular student shouldn't have a flaw nor problem in her life. that was the standard you set for yourself to follow.

so with that, you put on a charming smile and proceeded to behave as though nothing was wrong.

it irritated tsukishima when he watched you interact with others in such a normal way, even he was acting more impolite than usual because of your fight. you, on the other hand, were acting as if everything were fine and dandy.

and he didn't like that.

"you know, you can go apologize instead of just watching from a distance like a stranger."

yamaguchi suggests but tsukishima only tells him to shut up, which the green haired boy happily complies to.

how would i even begin to apologize if she's treating things like normal?

the taller male doesn't voice these thoughts, though, as he feels it would be useless to get advice from yamaguchi.

even at practice he notices you're more chipper than usual. it was the calm before the storm, tsukishima concludes finally.

the first few hours of school you hadn't talked with your boyfriend and it was fine, but when the last hours of school ticked by you grew worried.

you knew tsukishima was a stubborn and prideful guy, and so it wasn't a problem when you two wouldn't talk for a few hours. but he would never go to the extent of straight up ignoring you for eight days.

at this point, you were close to breaking down in public because of this. other students have already began noticing your extremely happy mood these past few days.

friends would ask if you were alright and that you seemed off.

you denied answering any of these questions and only resumed with whatever you were doing because you didn't want to worry them.

in light of this, you reacted strangely and this caused students to be more attentive of you.

well, not everyone.

your boyfriend still ignores you—even if you make the effort to try and talk to him.

"oi, tsukishima."

tsukishima looks up from his seat on the floor of the gym and sees kageyama with that serious expression of his.

the blonde only raises an eyebrow at his sudden appearance.

"what did you do?"

kageyama asks which shocks tsukishima slightly, the king would never talk to him about anything other than volleyball—unless accompanied by the ginger.

"what?"

"to my sister."

not even about his own sister.

the raven points at you in the distance. you looked awfully gloomy—actually you've been gloomy all week, but you hid it with a deceiving smile.

tsukishima was annoyed at that, annoyed because you were behaving as though everything was fine, and annoyed because of your fight.

but why was he even angry with you?

it wasn't your fault to begin with.

"i would never do that."

you say, tears threatening to fall from your eyes. tsukishima scoffs at the answer you give him.

"i saw the messages, so don't lie to me!"

"what texts?!"

"the one with that friend of yours! that– that stranger you always text."

it was your turn to scoff at the ridiculous accusation.

"your just misunderstood, kei."

you try to explain the situation but tsukishima wouldn't have it, he was rambling at that point.

"i don't even know why you chose me. you could have chosen anyone at your disposal but you chose me out of what? pity?"

those tears feel hot against your cheeks now.

"no! i don't pity you, kei. why would i?!"

"i don't know, maybe because i asked you out in front of your classmates? maybe because i looked pathetic doing it so you just had to say yes as to not damage your reputation?"

you were shaking in bitter laugher.

"what reputation?"

"you know what i'm talking about! you're popular, you've always been so popular, perfect, likable.. so why? why, out of everyone, would you choose me?"

"because i–" i love you.

the words stumble in your mouth.

"because you're who i want, who truly sees me as me, who i can be myself around. that's why i chose you."

"well you chose wrong."

it felt as if a sword pierced through your heart when you heard those words.

"i need time to think."

"kei, wait please!"

the blonde distinctly remembers you leaving his home with red puffy eyes because of the argument.

"that's none of your business."

he finally answers, but it only makes kageyama more infuriated.

"you better fix it, fast."

is all he says, however, as he didn't want to make a scene.

"whatever."

tsukishima stands and steps to tower in front of the shorter student as he says,

"it's still none of your business."

you were watching the interaction happen with a glum look until yachi taps your shoulder. the gesture makes you turn towards her with a forced smile.

"what's wrong?"

the female student says before any words are spoken between you two.

"nothing, i'm just feeling a bit down today."

"i suppose you've been down for the past week as well?"

her words surprise you and, immediately, you glance at where tsukishima was in nervousness.

yachi also looks toward his direction and 'ah's knowingly—something she began doing instead of reacting loudly ever since you all became second years.

"relationship problems?"

"it's complicated.."

"tell me about it."

the events from that night taunted you, but you desperately wished to vent to someone—luckily it had been hitoka as she already knew about the relationship.

the second year sits on the polished wood floor and pats the space next to her.

you sigh, following her actions and sat on the floor.

"it was a fight. kei, he accused me of cheating and i tried to explain that it wasn't like that but he changed the topic to why i was even with him. he told me that i pitied him, and that i was only in a relationship with him because i didn't want to damage my reputation."

your thoughts become incoherent, unclear, and hard to follow so you pause to try and collect yourself.

"but i don't, i don't pity him– i wouldn't. i just care for him so much and i don't want to lose him. i don't know how to make this right, i don't know how to apologize because this wasn't even my fault! i just.. i just want everything to be ok between us again."

tears form in your eyes but don't spill, the agony of having to hide the frustration seemed to be reaching closer to the surface everyday.

yachi, who had been quietly listening, extends her arm for a hug.

"it's going to be alright, he'll come to you when he's ready to apologize."

"i hope it'll be soon because i don't know how much longer i can put on a fake smile."

you laugh sarcastically and stand up, holding your hand out for hitoka to take.

that was tsukishima's queue to leave the area. he overheard the conversation you had with the second year, and it made him realize it doesn't matter if his insecurities were giving him doubts.

"my duty is my heart."

he would always hear you say. he thought it was stupid, who would make their heart their duty? it was idiotic to follow your heart, that mindset would only get you hurt in the end.

but maybe, just this once, he would follow his heart.

he would follow his heart all the way back to you.

you were bidding some school friends goodbye as it was the end of school when tsukishima approached you.

the tall male looks at you and gestures to a more private place to talk.

"what do you need, kei?"

you ask. you already knew why he needed to talk, but having been ignored for a week straight, you wanted to hear him apologize.

tsukishima hesitates before speaking.

"last week i reacted poorly and irrationally. i accused you of things i know you didn't do, and i.. i'm sorry. can you forgive me?"

you cross your arms over your chest in annoyance.

"you're an asshole, you know that?"

the blonde clenches his fists at the comment as he stares at you in slight desperation. the annoyance in your expression fades as you smile brightly—which confuses tsukishima.

"you're an asshole, but i forgive you. i forgive you, tsukishima kei."

you watch as your boyfriend sighs in relief and relax at your answer.

"you aren't mad?"

"oh, i'm very mad. you ignored me for a whole week and accused me of something i would never do. of course i would be mad."

tsukishima tenses again, but you hold his hand to reassure him.

"but, i still forgive you. i care for you, kei, a lot. i don't even think i could go two days without a good morning or goodnight from you, that's how much i like you."

"i care about you too, so much. i was just feeling insecure and seeing you with other people much better than me.."

you shut him up with a squeeze of his hand and a gentle smile.

"you have every right to be insecure but trust me when i say you are more than enough for me. sure, you may be an asshole but you're my asshole, and i'm not going to replace you with anyone else for as long as i live."

"so you'll get together with someone else in the afterlife?"

kei jests and you lightly punch his arm in response, a smile growing on both your faces.

"i might if you keep talking like that."

"good luck finding someone who's more of a pain in the ass than me."

arrogant as always, you roll your eyes at the comment jokingly.

"it won't be hard."

the words come out as a whisper as you pull him towards you and lean in close.

"that's believable."

tsukishima replies in a sarcastic tone, moving closer until your lips touch.

it was light and soft, like a feather brushing your arm, but soon it felt like a fireplace's heat as the desperation for each other seeped into the gentle kiss.

it had only been a week but that seemed like one week too long for the both of you without each other's touch.

the next day you were layered with familiar purple bruises around the upper part of your body. it was a joy tsukishima decided not to cover your jaw or areas on your neck that were visible.

after all, he was quite generous with them yesterday.

still, your body ached from the fast and needy pace your boyfriend had marked you in—that same boyfriend who was currently eyeing you down.

"what?" you ask in suspicion.

"maybe we should have heated arguments more often if i get to do this to you."

"kei!"

product of its-weeping ;༊ | do not plagiarize or translate.

[anundyingfidelity]

I'M A RUIN — Soldier Boy/Ben (Part IX)

Summary: After the events of the Seven Tower, you present Grace Mallory a new secret project you're working on already to develop a cure to Compound V. The only problem? You need Soldier Boy for that.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female reader

Word count: 2.3k.

Warnings for series: set after S3 (spoilers), some OOC!Ben, some depressed!Ben, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, slow-burn, language, PTSD, reader has Compound V (she's no Vought supe tho), Soldier Boy being an usual asshole, reader is a fucking liar.

Warnings for this chapter: some spoilers and references to S4 and Gen V, mentions of sex, mentions of kindaping, so much lying from these fuckers!!

Notes: idk who's still interested on this crap because my original drafts went to hell once S4 dropped (but also my fault i was waiting for that lol), anyway I'll try to be consistent with this is giving me nightmares i swear. thank you if you're still here 😭

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And if it wasn’t much worse, there he was still, lying down on the other side of the mattress, sleeping and snoring like a stray dog you just took in to protect him from the dangers of the night. Who would have thought? But you wanted this. You fell for it eventually. And you didn’t give a single shit about it, not yet. It was great, you had to admit that. In the end, Ben was right, he could fuck pretty good and could bark about that with good reasons.

Part IX: Nobody’s Business

Rolling on your side of the bed, your eyes fluttered open. There was a warmth coming from the mattress, one that you were not used to every time you woke up. That side always came up empty, but then your mind replayed the memories of last night's events. The small and soft light emanating from the window forced you to sit up abruptly, covering your breasts with the bed sheets. The clock told you it was almost 9 a.m.

But duties are duties, you told yourself, sitting down and reaching your phone on the nightstand. There were six missed calls from an unknown number; you were pretty sure who that was. With a scoff, you got on your feet and full in your naked glory, stepped out of the room, just taking your dress from the floor to put it on as best as you could while you heard the line from the other side.

“Oi, I’ve been calling you, answer the damn phone,” the British voice on the other side spit.

You grimaced, pulling the phone away as he yelled at you before speaking. “I had important things last night. Sorry for having a life,” you lied gracefully, making your way to the kitchen to boil some water for a tea. “Besides, since do you care? I barely fucking know you, so tell me what is it before I hung up.”

Butcher sighed from the other side of the line. “I need the kid back.”

“Ryan?”

“Yeah, and I need something for it. I don’t wanna force him, but tough times require even tougher methods…”

There was a silence coming from you, trying to process his words. Soldier Boy wanted the kid, Butcher wanted the kid, and Homelander of course wanted his fucking kid. You didn’t know who was the best for Ryan. Homelander was out of the league immediately, but maybe Butcher was the only sane motherfucker between them to take care of him. After all, he was his dead wife’s son.

“What do you want me to do? You’re not gonna kidnap him, right?” you asked, unsure of what would happen if you agreed to help Butcher on it.

“No, but don’t play innocent. Can imagine you have plenty of analgesics to take down an army, doctor.”

You pictured that fucked up smirk on his face at his words, and followed his game to see if you could get somewhere.

“And what do I get in exchange? I’m not giving anything for free.”

“Novichok. Put him to deep slumber and can test the strongest drug you have on Soldier Boy without getting killed,” he whispered over the phone, as if someone was hearing his words.

“Alright, deal,” you accepted, taking off a cup to pour your tea. “Send me the address and we can meet today. Just don’t mess with me, I don’t have enough arguments to trust you right now.”

“And I can respect that. Should be receiving it soon, darling.”

With those final words, Butcher hung up the call.

Your head felt spinning, as if something had crushed you so bad. Your body hurted, and you were sore. Probably you regretted it. Not because it wasn’t good, it was something else. What had happened between Ben and you wasn’t supposed to be. It just simply couldn’t. He was a killing machine you were just reaping, eventually discarding him when you took what you needed. However, the right time to test the Anti V prototype had yet to come. Sipping from your hot tea, you heard hard steps from the stairs, and for some reason, you were not prepared to face him the morning after.

“Ah, preparing my breakfast already, doll,” Ben said cheerfully, much to your liking, and approaching you as you faced your back to him.

His arms wrapped around your waist, and as much as you wanted to enjoy his touch, you pushed him away and turned on your feet to see his confused grin.

“First of all, good morning. And second, no. You can make yourself a sandwich,” you replied.

A smile appeared on your lips as his own slowly faded away.

“So, nothing for me, even if I made you feel so good with my cock?”

“God, you’re so gross…”

Ben snorted, leaning to give soft kisses on the skin of your neck as he whispered. “I don’t remember you complaining about it last night.”

As an impulse, you shut your eyes. His touch and lips over your sensitive skin were too intoxicated for you to react quickly and stop him. Ben took the cup of tea from your hand, putting it on the countertop; the place he fucked you so good the night before. He would kill to go again, with you beneath him, yearning and crying for his dick. Or maybe he’d fuck you in the couch before taking you to your bed, exactly like he did after you did it in the kitchen…

“Stop,” you said, pushing him away softly.

He did as you asked rapidly, licking his lips, and watching your lustful gaze intently. You wanted it as much as he did, but it wasn’t the right time.

“I’m still sore,” you continued. “And I have some stuff to do right now. I have to go.”

He nodded. “Right.”

To your surprise, Ben gave you some space and you stepped up, not before taking the cup and your phone between your hands again. You stopped, standing by his side for a moment.

“Maybe later?” you said, watching his face attentively.

That sleazy smirk curved on his lips. “Later.”

You walked away then, feeling his eyes over your figure. God, you were so fucking regretting offering yourself to him already for some reason.

You sat down on the dining table as he settled down a saucer and two cups of tea with a bowl of biscuits.

“It’s not necessary–”

“Nonsense, take it,” Butcher said, taking a seat in front of you.

He served you and him the tea with an elegance only a British man could ever have, not that you expected him to have that inside. Butcher was a soldier once, now an undercover agent whom you had no idea what to expect, besides the few things Grace had told you about him, but she wasn’t there. This meeting was hidden from everyone. Butcher crossed his arms on his chest, looking at you with an expression you could not decode. You were barely knowing him after all.

“I’m not trying to poison you,” he joked, taking his own cup to taste the tea.

“Well, thanks for your kindness,” you took the cup and sipped the warm drink. It was surprisingly good. “So, weren’t you after Victoria?” you asked, following the previous conversation you had with him before sitting down.

“Yeah, cunt’s indestructible,” he remarks. “Can’t do anything now, planning on just retiring and just leaving it all...”

“There’s a fucking outburst right now between Homelander’s cult and Starlight fanatics, Victoria is almost there along with Robert Singer at the White House. Why you wanna give up on that?”

“I’m not part of the team anymore,” Butcher confessed, taking you aback.

“Is that the reason you want Ryan back?”

He nodded and you sensed vulnerability coming from him. The tough facade, the immoral plans, the thirst for revenge for the fucker who screw up his life and made his wife’s a living hell… Even your own thirst for payback and burning Vought to the ground wasn’t as big as his own grief. After all, you were just another piece on the chessboard. Butcher saw you as one, and you did the same with him and Ben. You were just taking in things that would help you to reach your own, selfish goals. One can’t compete with that.

He coughed in the middle of the silence you shared, and you noticed there was a black liquid coming off one of his ears you have never seen.

“Are you okay?” you worriedly asked.

Butcher looked like he noticed your eyes staring at the side of his face and wiped up the substance with his finger, cleaning it up with a napkin.

“You stopped taking the temp V?” you insisted on his silence.

“Yeah, I fucking did, and then had it again. The true V this time, didn’t help. Just accelerated my own death,” Butcher seemed like he didn’t give a shit as he told you.

“Fuck, are you crazy?!” you exclaimed.

“Thought it’d save me, alright?!” he ranted. “Thought it could. So I could say I had more time with Ryan, but I don’t. That’s why you’re here. Do you have what I asked or not?”

Grumbling, with your jaw tight, you took from your jacket a small packet of white powder and tossed it on top of the table.

“A sedative. Will keep him asleep for days if you’re not careful,” you announced. “Give me the gas now.”

Butcher stood up abruptly, and searched for something in one of the kitchen cabinets. He took out a grey cylindrical vessel, similar to a fire extinguisher, and left it on the floor by your feet.

“There you have it,” he said, before taking his seat back.

You didn’t say ‘thank you’, neither did he, but Butcher dared to speak out again.

“Can you come when Ryan is here?”

“Excuse me? I don’t know the kid, I don’t see why I should be here.”

“Another secret is good enough for ya,” he insisted. His face was just as plain as yours.

You didn’t know what else to expect from him at this point, but you followed him up.

“And?”

“There’s something down Godolkin. A virus, created to exterminate supes,” he explained, leaning forward and whispering as if someone else could hear outside the walls. “If your cure ain’t working, maybe you could use some help from there.”

Ben emptied the last drawer in your room. There was fucking nothing. The only pleasure he took in from sniffing into your stuff was checking your underwear, from the most comfy cotton panties to the lingerie he’d love to see on you while he fucked your brains out. And then, nothing. Emptiness. No secrets, no files. Nothing.

Not caring of putting your stuff in place, he just tossed them into the drawer. If you were to indulge back there, you would certainly notice the mess. But he didn’t care if you did. He fucked you good, but that didn’t mean he trusted you. That’s why he spent the last hours of the day checking the whole place after you left him all alone and by himself. The past few days, he had spent checking everywhere to find a clue or something that could give you away easily.

Tired, Ben went down to the living room and checked between the bookshelves, only to find dust and old books he didn’t give a shit about. He scoffed to himself, and walked to the back of the room, where the aisle ended. The carpet felt different, as if another floor was down there. He knocked on the floor with his fist. He was right; there was another floor down the living room.

“What are you fucking hiding in here?” he mumbled to himself, his mind pulling the tricks of any stuff you could probably have down there.

He pulled the carpet away and found a small metal knob, unlocked. He opened it just to reveal stairs and he went down carefully. A heavy metal door stood in front of him, an electronic panel with numbers by the side. The walls were also made of the same material, and he tensed. It wasn’t a good sign. Before, he noticed you would sneak out of your room some nights. There was no other place you should be visiting but here.

He thought of breaking the door, but it wasn’t that subtle. There was a code to get inside, probably he could get it. It had to be something important for you, right? Shouldn’t be so difficult.

But he knew better than to continue playing this fucking game of hiding the thruth from him. Anger seized him in a second, thinking of endless possibilities this could be a hidden lab. You were a doctor after all, he knew what those cocksuckers were capable of. You were no exception.

He clenched his fists tightly, and heard in the distance the sound of your car. Ben quickly climbed the stairs and covered the door to the basement. The click of the door announced you were home and he made his way to the kitchen to take out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.

Once you stepped up, he poured the liquor. You left a couple of bags full with groceries on the kitchen counter as Ben gave you a dirty smile and offered the whiskey to you. It was his way of disguising what he really felt.

A quick fuck should do, he thought.

“So, later, right?” he said, taking a sip from his glass.

Immediately, you knew what those words meant.

“You’ve been waiting so long I see,” you smirked.

He pulled you closer with a single hand before claiming your lips in a harsh kiss. He smiled when you moaned against his tongue and he pulled away, this time his lips claiming the sensitive spot on your neck.

“And can’t wait any longer, sugar.”

this fic tags:

@k-slla @syrma-sensei @mostlymarvelgirl @cheynovak @drasticemotions @thesilmarillionblog @deans-spinster-witch @girlsforpjm @delaynew

[wandixx]

Ghost of fries and hero of cookies part 6

All work words count: 14 643

Words in this part: 2 686

Summary of whole work: Duke wasn't expecting to wake up from his quick rooftop nap to some meta kid with fries. He also wasn't expecting kid to stay

Or

Danny asked Dani to stay safe while she was in Gotham. Where would she be safer than under the wing of local hero? And he looked like he needed bad day combo anyway

This part summary: Batman wants an explanation. His kids however, wouldn't be themselves if they did add some chaos

Beta read by @audhumla-sailor though English is second language for both of us, so proceed with this in mind. I also know all of the charaters through fics alone, so probably ooc. Stay catious if it's something you don't like

First part, Previous part

“Signal.”

Duke bit back a sigh as his last hope to leave Cave undiscovered disappeared. He shot Steph message of:

Having The Talk. Come as moral support

and turned around to face Bruce.

“Yes?”

B grunted in disapproving and ‘Signal report’ way but Duke decided to buy some time and answer only questions that were actually asked. He slowly sat at the briefing table and looked at the man expectantly.

Lift chimed and moments later Tim and Cass went to Batcomputer and training mats respectively. Duke was, like, 80% sure they were there to eavesdrop. He knew them well enough. He knew them well enough.

“The girl”

“Izzy?” Was Duke annoying on purpose? Yes. He really didn’t want to have this talk. Like, at all. Psychological warfare it was “I mean, I know she is civilian and you don’t approve but at least she isn’t doing anything illegal, right? Like, you know, robbing museums or killing people?”

Bruce looked repulsed and Tim snorted.

“Low blow Narrows, low blow” Jason announced through speakers. He was slightly winded as if he just finished a fight “Good job kid”

“So you’re listening too, great” Duke muttered under his breath before louder he added “Is everyone who wants in on a show, here already?”

“Give me a sec- here Dick you’re going live now”

“Thanks Babs, you’re the best”

“I know. Donuts, you know which one”

“Of course. Glad we’re finally going to talk about Duke’s kid”

“Shut up, she is not my kid!”

“Steph ETA 2 minutes” Cass interrupted.

At least Damian didn’t show up- as if summoned by this thought Damian stomped down the stares, Alfred the Cat curled in his arms. Maybe others had a point, calling him Demon kid and stuff.

“What is an emergency?” he demanded and Duke decided to take what little relief he could from the fact that Bruce seemed equally defeated by sheer number of people around for this talk. 

“It seems like… oh, literally everyone lost an adoption bet” Babs explained. Huh, so Steph didn’t change her stance.

Damian looked genuinely terrified as he muttered “No” eyes darting between everyone present in silent calculation.

“Oh, shut up” Duke whined knowing all too well his stalling had to come to the end. Maybe it was wishful thinking but he almost heard roar of engine of Steph’s motorcycle. Her presence would be double edged sword but she would help him advocate for Dani and that was more important.

“Thomas, what have you done?!” if it was anyone other than Damian, Duke would call sound he made a whine. As it was, he preferred his entrails to stay inside and since the boy showed up, called by thought, the older boy preferred not to take risks.

“Nothing, Babs is overreacting”

“Don’t deny it. She went about it kinda Tim Lite style but it worked”

“I don’t even know her surname, where she stays or really, anything about her life outside of our patrols, how do you expect me to go about adoption?!”

“B knew even less about me when he decided, yes this tire thief is my new son!” Jason chimed in and Duke knew he was grinning despite voice modulator.

“What from my origin story was lost to make Lite version?”

“Identities weren't breached as far as we're aware. Just ‘came one day and refuses to leave’ part and some light stalking. She was smart about it, invisible, keeping out of sight and to the hot spots. Wouldn't find her if I didn't know she was there”

“She could still just not tell, I mean I knew for years before telling anyone…”

“There is no way. Believe me, she has no brain-mouth filter, I swear”

“But-”

“She introduced herself by her first name,” Duke deadpanned ”She told me civilian names of heroes from her hometown, in context that didn't require me to do any actual research to clue me. I did anyway. I don't think she even realized she did it. If she knew our identities we would know already”

There was a moment of silence as everyone digested the thought of just how gigantic breach Dani accidentally caused.

“Well, it's as good of a proof as we can get for now,” Babs bristled. 

“Who let her in on such secrets then?!” Damian sounded genuinely appalled and Duke wasn't too surprised.

Like on a cue, Steph stormed inside on her Spoiler in civies. Bruce looked about ready to get aneurysm. Duke was a bit glad that everyone was doing such good job in distraction department.

“IT’S OKAY, WHY? BECAUSE I AM HERE!” Steph yelled, jumping from before her vehicle fully stopped. She threw something small in general direction of Batcomputer “Timmy plug it in, I made a PowerPoint!”

Duke felt blood leave his face. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know what Steph put together but he probably didn't. Tim opened it anyways.

WHY HOOPOE IS ADORABLE&CHAOTIC BEAN AND SHOULD BE PART OF THE TEAM

The title slide said, one of the clearest photos of Dani from before she started wearing mask in the background. It was close-up of girl smiling, bits of brownie on her cheeks.

“Was this photo taken with a goddamn calculator?” Tim asked with disgust so clear Duke could taste it. Metaphorically of course.

“Nah, just body-cam. Her powers mess with technology a bit”

Tim still looked displeased at the craftsmanship.

“Don't worry, it's not  a bad photo. Baby Bird is just being perfectionist,” Dick placated.

Duke didn't realize that Damian froze until he unfroze and made his way to the screen, stopping less than one foot away from it. His movements were rigid, his face scrunched with distress. Alfred the Cat escaped its master probably due to hoe tense he was. Everyone in Cave quietened as soon as boy took first step and expecting mood had to run through microphones because nobody from the on-line crowd quipped in.

“This is the green of Lazarus” he whispered finally, sounding actually scared. Jason swore. Bruce and Cass visibly stiffened. Tim choked and he wasn't even drinking. Dick did his whinny breezy name saying thing when he wanted explanation and felt lightly betrayed. 

It was Duke's turn to freeze because… it wasn't. Of course he wasn't all that well versed in the Pit, less alone its color but he did bust quite a few trafficking rings with Jason and he saw his eyes afterwards all raging, toxic, neon green glory and it wasn't the same as Dani’s. As much as he liked English and how good he was at it, it failed him at simple task of describing the obvious difference between each other. He'd have more luck describing tastes with set of color samples from IKEA or something. And really, even if he tried he would lose the fight of competence with Damian. Who wouldn't.  But-

“There is no way she has any connection with LOA”

“Why is that?” Damian seemed to misinterpret it as challenge like he always did when emotions were running high. Duke took a deep breath. Well, it was a moment to use all of his diplomatic skills and speak in the language of the demons.

“I've seen her fight. She would be utter disgrace”

“It does not prove-”

“It does” Duke interrupted with the tone and mimic of person who saw too much because he did ”None of you have any say until you watch a tiny and I mean tiny ten year old tackle five Joker goons like it's a joke, by sheer virtue of super strength and intangibility-means-I-can-ignore-bullets-Signal-don’t-be-such-worrywart. She should get shot, like, three times at least. And she kept laughing!” he was low key wheezing at the end because even after all this time (a week) it was fucking horrifying. Bruce made a huff that meant he was laughing and put a hand on his shoulder as a sign of support. Dick's lighthearted laugh sang from the speakers.

“Don't worry Duke, it never gets better” B said with mirth.

He refused to elaborate whether he meant ‘kids keep jumping into danger like there is no tomorrow‘ or ‘it's equally terrifying every time’ and Duke decided to reflect on that sentiment later. It put some things into perspective. A lot of things if he was being honest.

Also, he was not ready for stuff like that to become even semi-normal occurrence. He was ready to give her all of his Alfred cookies if it could change anything. He knew it wouldn't. 

“Do you have any other evidence that your new acquaintance does not just fake being less experienced to make you lower your guard?” Damian asked warily.

“I had to teach her out of putting her thumb in her fist,” he deadpanned. Several people hissed in empathetic pain. Steph coughed to bring attention to where she stood in front of Batcomputer, other slide of her Power Point open. Duke recognised video from his body-cam.

“Exhibit A” she announced. She played a video with Dani’s first mugging attempt he witnessed. Let it be said, it was a disaster.

“Exhibit B '' One of Dani’s most epic fails at side-kick that ended with her falling face first to the ground.

“Exhibit C” Dani fumbled with zip-ties, looking at him utterly at loss.

“Exhibit D” the talk about her prior training.

“What’s was that sound?” Dick obviously on the verge of cooing when girl on video growled. Steph stopped video.

“Very angry kitten” Tim stated with soft smile.

“Honestly, furious girl” Cass corrected “She was really mad at you”

“Yeah, I know but promise of Alfred’s cookies was enough to placate her”

“You gave her Alfred’s cookies?!”

“She started by giving me a lot of food on a really shitty patrol, had to repay somehow”

“Was it from your share or-” Dick asked like it was most important thing in the world.

“Miss Hoopoe was added to my plans after she picked her new name” Alfred explained and shit, Duke really should get used to how man just appeared sometimes. Jumpscare the original.

“Alfred, you knew?” Bruce sounded so utterly betrayed.

“I have yet to meet her but I was informed about her presence about two weeks ago”

“He caught me printing mask for her”

“About that” Steph clapped and skipped her slide show “Look at thi clueless child with such horrible disguises and codename ideas” There was whole list of every name Dani wanted to try out and photo of her bare face.  Duke kinda repressed his memories of it. It was worse than he remembered.

“Did she really tried kenting that?”

“Got it after her cousin. He used his first name as part of his alias for almost half a year” Duke admitted in carefree tone, knowing it would cause a mess.

“Cousin?!” several people yelled in surprise.

“Caped cousin?!”

“Yup. Small time hero from Illinois. As far as I’m aware she’s alone in Gotham but they’re in regular contact and she has strong believe that he can and will help her if she used her panic button”

“Who in their right mind let’s kid alone in Gotham?!” Jason sounded about ready to strangle Phantom.

“He seems to be fifteen himself. And has anti-meta parents if I’m picking things up correctly. She didn’t mention them much. I highly doubt she has present parents at all, so…”

“What the hell Narrows.”

“I don’t know, it’s just a wild guess”

“Does it call for the rescue?” Steph asked eagerly.

“We’re not going to Illinois to rescue Phantom if he doesn’t ask for it. He has means to it” Bruce interrupted with bone deep sigh.

“How do you know I meant Phantom?” Duke perked up because he never mentioned this name.

“He is from Illinois, looks almost the same as far as I can tell from the photos and they share a lot of powers”

“I didn’t know you knew about random kid hero from other state?”

“He dropped by on few Justice League’s mission. There is still dispute whether we should approach him in his city or not. He was very clear on his opinion that we should stay away. I think we really shouldn’t”

“How you haven’t gone or sent anyone there yet?” Tim teased.

Bruce just stared at him then gestured at mountain of cases they were currently working on. Yes, they were printed. Apparently for man it made it easier to work on them like that.

“Can we focus back on untrained child you let join you on patrol, Duke?”

“You act like I could stop her from doing her own thing if I didn’t  let her. Plus, even though she doesn’t have combat training, she can handle herself well enough. And has this damn intangibility that makes her really hard to punch”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t tell anyone other than Alfred and Steph and I wanted to wait a bit before leaving her to the wolfs”

“The bet”

“Shut up Steph”

“When did you plan on letting us know?” Bruce ignored what blonde insinuated. Duke was utterly grateful for that, he knew he would get lecture for that later but he was more than happy to leave it be for now.

“Somewhen next week. I hoped to introduce her gradually but apparently everyone knew already?”

“Kids tell me things. Hoopoe made a good impression on them” Jason explained.

“Hero sightings on Twitter” Dick admitted without a shadow of shame.

“What he said” Tim agreed “This person from crochet dolls made one for your kid too, so in public eyes she’s our already”

“For the last time, she isn’t my kid!” Duke groaned but as always went ignored.

“Nobody expected old man’s tendencies to rub on you so fast, Narrows”

“Shut up and this is half a reason I didn’t let you meet her. All of you”

“With all due respect Duke” Babs started teasingly “You gave us ammo yourself. You improved her diet, you brought her to The Food Track Of Mental Breakdowns, you teach her stuff, you check in on her almost as often as her cousin and their friends do…”

“How did you hack her pho- No, wrong question, why?!”

“We’re all paranoid bastards, I needed to check out the newest bird. She legally doesn’t exist btw so I suspect some shady stuff with her birth but otherwise nothing sus about her. Comms and trackers for her are waiting in drawer C19. You will give it to her tomorrow”

“Aye, aye captain Oracle ma’am” he joked.

“Wait, you showed her The Food Track?”

“She deserved it” he gritted out.

Before this could turn into a fight or something, Alfred demanded:

“Since we are all on the same page now, I would like to extend an invitation for family dinner to miss Hoopoe”

“We’ll eat it down here in full costumes”

“As you wish master Bruce. Master Duke make sure to let her know”

“Of course Alfred”

And he planned to do that but Dani didn’t show up. He hadn’t thought much of it because she was unpredictable like that. She tended to disappear from the face of the Earth for a day or two and return with tales of her “autograph hunting trips”

But then she didn’t show up on the next patrol too. It was unprecedented. And she hadn’t responded to the check in. Three times in the row. He was getting kinda sick from the stress.

He knew Dani well enough, she wouldn’t ghost him like that and in Gotham disappearing meant three things: getting kidnapped, trafficked or six feet under. To their knowledge, Dani didn’t have anyone who would pay ransom for her other than Signal and no demands were made so the first option was out.

Bats launched full fledged search.

Duke himself found and busted two trafficking rings in three weeks which was around how much he did in two months on a daily basis.

Thanks to Oracle, they found Dani’s utterly crashed phone in the dead end in the Narrows. It didn’t look any better.

Duke really hoped they wouldn’t be too late.

With each day it seemed more likely.

********

Bruce: *wants to have private conversation with his son about unknown child he's been working with*

All of the Batfam: Hello there

Duke: I managed to keep Dani secret my family of detectives!

Everyone other than Bruce: I knew for past two weeks, but goood job kid

Random o Twitter: I'm sooo disappointed with Signal for letting Hoopoe fight crime. She is just a little child, she shouldn't have to witness Gotham's worst

Other Random: Have you heard about Robin????? Have you seen teories that Signal is teenager???? With proofs????? Are you mad at child for not taking proper care of the other child????? That's messed up my dude/gal

Yell at Batman

Signal: You act like she isn't personification of feral cat I try to coax home so I can prevent her from getting in trouble. I dare you to try and stop her

Phantom: I do too, 100$ if you manage. It would save me from so much stress

Random: Now, who the f*ck are you?!

(Guess who never touched Twitter with 20 meters stick in her life)

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