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darnell-la · 2 days ago

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FRIENDS & CUFFS

summary: y/n has only been curious about Eddie’s handcuffs after they began dating. she wondered why he never used them on her, and at first, long told her she didn’t know anything about that life. she soon found out that Eddie had a lot to teach her.

warnings: quick friends to lovers storyline, making out, fem receiving oral from male, reader weakens after orgasm, slight innocent reader, drug dealer Eddie (not really mentioned), rough sex, bondage (Eddie’s handcuffs/chains), missionary, doggy, no protection, crying, whining, a lot of male noises, pet names, chocking, etc.

note: we haven’t done an Eddie Munson fan fiction in a while. we still love him, so, there will be more. more stranger things in general. you see what I did there? — nevermind.

———

Steve nearly asked Eddie every day since he graduated, when he was going to make a move on y/n. He hated watching the two drink and get close, yet never make a move.

When people would ask them if they were together, or assume, anyone could tell they the nervousness entered the room.

Not too long ago, y/n and Eddie finally made a move. It seemed so perfect how they both leaned in to feel each other’s lips.

“I think we should stop — You’re drunk, and it’s getting late,” Eddie whispered after y/n stopped fake fighting on top of him. “What if I won’t want to sleep just yet?” Y/n asked, a bit shy, but the alcohol in her body, helped her gain confidence.

“You’re drinks, princess, and I’m not. I don’t want you to regret this, and mess our friendship up,” Eddie said, really wanting to taste her, but she was afraid of showing what he’s been wanting to do with her.

“A kiss could never ruin our friendship, Eddie,” y/n said, slightly sounding desperate as her eyes could barely stay open. “Wanna do more than just kiss you, y/n,” Eddie admitted.

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat at what her best friend said. She thought she was the only one who wanted to experiment with him. She felt nasty, but now, she felt loose.

The two both crashed on each other’s lips, making g out rough but passionate. None of them have kissed like this before. They would’ve never mixed their saliva like this with anyone, but because it’s them, they wanted to do much more.

The night ended with y/n halfway passed out, and Eddie’s face resting on y/n’s thigh, dripping juice from y/n’s throbbing heat. “So good for me — I wanna get used to this,”

Now, the two are dating, happier than ever, but y/n has been curious lately. She didn’t pay much attention when they were just friends, but now that they’re dating, she thought about Eddie’s handcuffs.

Most partners would be jealous, but y/n? She was curious. She thought to herself plenty of times how he would use them on her, and why he hadn’t done it yet. They’ve only been sexual for a short time, but if he were kinky like that, why wouldn’t he mention it?

“You good, sweetheart?” Eddie asked after turning to his girlfriend who seemed to be daydreaming. “Yeah, I was just thinking,” y/n said, not knowing if she should bring this up as a conversation so soon her their relationship.

“What is it? What were you thinking about?” The metalhead asked as he leaned back on his bed, taking his eyes off the weed he was pre-rolling for his rich customers who couldn’t do it on their own.

“So, uh — I noticed the handcuffs, and I was curious,” y/n said as she stared at the cuffs that were basically chains, dangling from a hook in his wall. She knew that had to be for something sexual.

“Hey, y/n, look — I swear on my uncle, I’ve never used them in anyone, and never planned to. I just liked the thought of them near me. I’ve even thought about you in them,” Eddie spoke quietly, a bit embarrassed by his truth.

“Oh, wait, I wasn’t jealous or anything. I just was curious on why you didn’t use them on me yet,” y/n said, making Eddie's eyes widen. For the longest, he had thought y/n was innocent, and she was. She was just open-minded when it came to her boyfriend.

“You’re not ready for that, princess,” Eddie chuckled lightly. “Why not?” Y/n asked, a bit offended as she crossed her arms. “Being restrained means you can’t do anything. I don’t think that it’s a good idea to put you in something like that, knowing you’d wanna get out,”

“What do you mean, want to get out? I can take it,” y/n said, only making the man laugh. “You can’t even take me slow in doggy. What makes you think you can take me deep up front with your pretty hands cuffed?”

Eddie shifted in the bed to cup y/n’s chin, slightly teasing her because they both knew she wasn’t a taker. Especially with his length.

“I-I can take it — It’s not even that bad,” y/n said, making Eddie throw himself back onto his bed with a loud laugh, knowing his uncle wasn’t home to tell him to shut the hell up.

“What!? You’re mean as fuck, you know?” Y/n said as she kept her arms crossed. “Oh, really, baby? I’m sorry, it’s just — You’re a comedian,” Eddie kept laughing, only making y/n roll her eyes.

“C’mon, I’m just pullin’ your tit, baby,” Eddie leaned up to hug y/n, but she moved away. “Babe, don’t start this. I was just kidding,” Eddie tried hugging y/n again, but this time she pushed him away. Of course, not too hard. She was just being dramatic.

“And, that’s why we can’t do what you wanna do. You can’t even handle being picked on a little bit,” Eddie said as he pushed at y/n’s shoulder lightly, slightly feeling bad for what he did.

“Whatever, I’ll be fine,” y/n said, making y/n sigh as he rolled his eyes. “Fine — We can use em, but ion wanna hear none of that cryin', okay?” Eddie jumped off of the bed to get his handcuffs that had dust all over them.

“Really?” Y/n asked, a bit excited, but knowing she wouldn’t be too excited soon. “Ah huh, but only one rule,” Eddie said with a smirk as he untangled the chains. “Yeah?” Y/n innocently asked, not knowing how quick of a turn this would take.

“The only thing stopping me, is our safe word,” before y/n could agree with a smile, Eddie lunged at her, grabbing her quest roughly to cuff them as quick as possible.

“Hey,” y/n said with an eye roll, not knowing he’d get in the mood this fast. “Not a word from you, princess. Let’s see how good you think you can take it,” Eddie said as he placed the chains where they needed to be.

Seeing y/n in this sight, made him harder than he thought he could get. She was always beautiful, but seeing her innocent body slightly retrained, knowing she was actually ready for what was coming, made him want to burst then and there.

“Always thought about tying you up at school. I was a little perv-nerd when it came to you, princess. You always looked and smelled so good — Had to keep myself from throwing you in my van with your hands and legs tied,”

Eddie was in an emotion he couldn’t control. He was either not sure about putting his pretty girl through this, or he was getting too dark to the point he would black out and not remember anything he’d do to her tonight.

“Pretties thighs — Pretties body — Pretties fucking face,” Eddie slightly growled as he gripped y/n’s face. The younger girl whined with huge eyes, feeling her heat get wet.

“I know, baby — Hearts probably rising. Maybe a hint of fear, knowing you can’t get loose — Don’t worry. You know, I’ll take good care of you,”

Eddie quickly began tugging on y/n’s clothes until parts of her showed more than before. She had already had her night dress in, so exposing her bra-covered breast was easy.

“You sure you want this y/n because, fuck — I won’t be able to stop myself,” Eddie warned as he climbed on top of y/n, pulling her dress up as she slightly moved at his cold hands grazing her skin.

“U-Use me — Please,” y/n stuttered, not knowing if she should’ve said it. “What’s the safe word?” Eddie asked in a stern tone. “Red,” y/n said, feeling her heart raise. This was actually happening, and she only had to question him once.

“Good girl,” Eddie grunted as he reached into his jeans to pull himself out. “And, that’s the only thing I wanna hear from you tonight,” Eddie said as he pulled y/n’s panties to the side.

“I-I’ll try,” y/n spoke, making Eddie shake his head with a chuckle. “You’re always doing a terrible job. Just means I’ll have to start off rough,” before anything, Eddie doubly pushed through y/n’s walls, causing her to cry out in pain and pleasure.

“Yeah? You feel that? Feel how deep I am inside of you? I told you doggy would be the only position you could truly handle — This is next level,” Eddie couldn’t stop but grin down at the struggles woman.

“S-So much,” y/n whined low, only making Eddie shush her. “Nah uh, what did I say? Didn’t I say to keep that pretty mouth closed? Hm? — You’re the one who wanted this, so accept the journey,”

Eddie grabbed both sides of y/n’s waist before pushing down onto the mattress. Y/n knew he was positioning himself to fuck her rough. He’s never gone too rough, but she asked for it tonight.

“Hush it up, princess — You wanted it,” Eddie continued saying as he pounded down into y/n, going the deepest he could get at the start of his session. After being handcuffed, there would be no room for taking it slow.

“E-Eddie,” y/n cried out as she pulled one of her restraints. At times, she’d forget that she wouldn’t be able to get out. “Wanna break free? Keep trying, princess — Makes this so much hotter,” Eddie growled with a smile, looking down at the way y/n pulled on the chains.

“This is the tightest you’ve ever been — The way you’re soaking around me, only makes me closer,” Eddie felt himself twitch. He didn’t want to cum this quick, but it didn’t matter. He’s always been able to keep going.

“Eddie- Eddie, you — The condoms. You forgot the condoms,” y/n took forever to say what she was trying to say. “Oh, really? Guess that’s your luck, hm?” Eddie leaned in front of y/n’s face.

Deep down, Eddie felt bad for slipping into her without protection. He had completely forgotten, but he didn’t want to get out of character. He had to somehow make sure y/n was 100% with what was going on.

“Tell me you want me to stop. Tell me. Tell me!” Eddie slightly yelled as he snapped his hips, wanting to keep his work going. He could feel the way she fluttered around him. She was so close.

“Too much, Eds — I’m gonna cum,” y/n made the mistake of telling him how close she was. “And, you want me to stop? When you’re so close? C’mon,” Eddie leaned into y/n’s ear so she could hear his groans better.

The room was filled with wet slaps, whining, growling, and a bunch is cuss words from Eddie. He couldn’t keep himself together. This situation was too much for him. He was going to explode.

“E-Eddie, slow down — Please,” y/n tried begging the man, but he wouldn’t listen. Why would he? She hadn’t used the safe word yet. “Want me to slow down?” Eddie asked as he leaned up.

“Yes, yes,” y/n huffed, surprised he actually slowed down. She had thought he got soft, but little did she know, he was just getting a short break. “Want me to be nicer? Take it easy on you?” He asked as he softly placed his hands around her neck.

“Please-“ y/n was cut off by the grip of his hands. “Then you asked the wrong one to chain you up, sweetheart,” Eddie spat before he began slamming into her, making the young lady cry out instantly.

“E-Eds! C-Can’t anymore — I can’t!” Y/n kicked and arched her back, trying to control herself, but her cunt continued to squeeze around Eddie, only assuring him that he was doing exactly what she wanted. Using her.

“That’s it — Keep struggling — You’re going nowhere, and this isn’t even the beginning — I have so many loads I’ve been wanting to empty into you,” Eddie tightened his grip a bit more to hear her struggle for air.

For a second, Eddie thought he might have been going too far tonight. Quickly handcuffing her, saying mean things, pinning her down, and fucking get rougher than he’s ever done.

The only thing that helped him was her words. She never once came close to the word red. She would’ve said it by now, and she would never come to him later and say she was uncomfortable. Y/n wasn’t like that.

That’s how Eddie knew y/n probably enjoyed this more than him. She loved faking that she needed him to stop. He even saw a small pour from her when he slowed down a few minutes ago.

“C-Cumming — Cunming,” y/n’s body stiffened before she shook. “That’s it- That’s it — Fucking take it,” the older man growled as he pounded her, wanting her juice to splash anywhere it could.

“Ian stoppin’ either, baby — Told you to keep that fucking mouth shut, didn’t I?” Eddie asked, but y/n didn’t answer. Her eyes were landing everywhere but on him. She felt out of it already.

“Didn’t I!?” The man shouted as he shook y/n by her neck to catch her attention. “S-Sorry,” tears streamed from her eyes, upset at herself for not taking it like she swore she could.

Right as Eddie went to assure her that she was fine, she spoke, shocking him.

“I-I’ll be good, I promise. Please cum in me. D-Don’t pull out and punish me,” she cried. “I’ll do anything, Eds, just- Please, use me,”

“Jesus’s H. Christ,” Eddie huffed as he pulled out. He quickly turned his girlfriend around, knowing the chains were long enough for her to be comfortable. He took no time to push back in her, roughly, with a warning.

Y/n wanted to speak out loud to thank him, he she kept quiet. She wanted to be good like she promised.

“You’re just a slut, y/n — A dirty fucking slut, and I knew it from how you dressed at parties — You always got drunk before you sat on my lap, facing me- Dragging that pretty pussy across my clothes cock — Swore you even stained my jeans, once,”

Y/n whined, happy that he noticed his much she wanted him before they got together. Yeah, a bit of embarrassment was felt, but the thought of being caught was what made her close to another orgasm.

“You’re in for a ride with me, princess. Especially after I coat these walls,”

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niniwritesxo · 1 day ago

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nsfw alphabet - nam-gyu (player 124)

(it contains things like degrading, threesomes, and nam-gyu being an asshole tbh, if you aren’t into that i wouldn’t read this x)

saw this on @cybrasigilism ‘s page, you should really check that out ! (love their writing btw)

——————————————————————————

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

- sorry to burst your bubble but his aftercare is probably none existent, he might hand you the tv remote afterwards but that’s about it.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

- 100% his hands, obviously he had to add some rings, because he knows girls like you will go crazy over it. favorite part about you is most likely your boobs or your ass (basic am i right?)

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

- he for sure has a breeding kink (who said that haha)

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

- a dirty secret about namgyu is the fact he would to have a trio with thanos and you, the thought of seeing thanos fucking you turns him on more than he would like to admit.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

- i think he has had a lot of one night stands, so he knows what he is doing.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

- he loves when you are on top of him, that way he can look at your body all he wants, the way your boobs bounce when he is thrusting into you, how you are so out of breath after a few rounds, he loves it.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

- i don’t think he is very humorous in bed, he doesn’t even think about making a joke in the moment because he is so focused.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

- i don’t think he has a insane bush, but lets just say he isn’t perfectly trimmed either.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

- he sees you as a fuckbuddy, good for fucking. he isn’t looking for a relationship so he probably isn’t that romantic.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

- he looks up your (or your friends insta) and jerks off to your photos.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

- i feel like he would love tying you up, seeing how you aren’t able to move while he gets to do whatever he wants. (and knife play ..anyways!)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

- definitely in places where you COULD get caught like, fittings rooms & public restrooms.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

- praise 1000%

‘Bet you’ve never been fucked like this huh?’ he says out of breath grabbing your chin, at this point it’s almost impossible for you to talk, it’s like he fucked your brains out. You decide to nod.

‘Fucking speak up’ he says glaring at you.

‘n-namgyu please, i need y-you please’ you manage to puff out.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

- anal.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

- he loves receiving especially when you suck him off. but he is also a munch, he loves going down on you. he could do it for hours.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

- he is very rough and fast, it’s almost like hate fucking, nothing sensual about it.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

- he loves quickies, especially in the games he would find places where he could quickly release his stress onto you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

- i think he has tried a lot already but will try all sorts of stuff on you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

- depends if he is under the influence of something, if he’s taken something? he could go on for hours on end. if he is sober he’ll probably pass out after a good 40 minutes.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

- he doesn’t own or use toys, he feels like his hand are good enough to keep you satisfied.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

- he is such a tease, you definitely need to wait before you can cum and he’ll make sure you beg for it.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

- i don’t think he moans, he is more like a grunts guy. i feel like he talks a lot tho. (cursing and degrading you obvi)

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

- it kinda turns him on when you try to be bossy for once, telling him what to do and what he isn’t aloud to do.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

- he has a average body, leaning more towards a dad bod than a jacked up guy tho.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

- his sex drive is hiiigh, he always feels horny and is always in for a quickie.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

- give him ten minutes and he is gone.

english isn’t my first language so if i made any mistakes, i apologize x

#namgyu #nam gyu headcanons #nam gyu x reader #player 124

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yierrem · 2 days ago

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dating headcanons - zzzero men edition pt. 2 ☆〜（ゝ。∂）

ft. gn! reader x asaba harumasa, billy kid, and seth lowell ; a follow up to my previous dating hcs (which can be found here) and a response to a request ( ^ω^ ) first post of the year（≧∇≦）i hope you enjoy reading!!

asaba harumasa

very clingy. when you're not together, he'd be texting you random little updates or beg for your attention just for the sake of talking to you if calling momentarily isn't an option. sometimes he tries to use you as an excuse to get out of work, but after he's done it a couple of times, you've become immune to always bending to his whims and suddenly he's whining about how you don't love him anymore.

["wait i'll look at your texts later brb love u ^3^" "so you hate me."]

an avid quality time enjoyer, if i've ever seen one. he's content with lazing around with you or doing mundane tasks that don't require much physical effort. likes cuddling against you when you're just sitting engrossed in doing something with your hands and reading or watching something together.

even though he usually appears and acts lighthearted, deep down, he's genuinely happy with you and the relationship you share. he cherishes every moment you can spend together and wishes it could go on for as long as he lives. you're the person he refers to as family when on one of his much-dreaded doctor appointments.

alongside the nightmares he already has regarding his sickness, he'd have times when he'd wake up in a cold sweat from dreams of losing or leaving you and the people he cares for. thankfully, on the days you sleep over, he has you; he's comforted by the sight of your sleeping figure and clings to you for the rest of the night.

on a lighter note, sharing a bed with this man is probably a chaotic experience on a dreamless night; initially, you'd both fall into slumber comfortably cuddled against each other, but the following morning, one of you would be seconds away from suffocating in a vice grip.

billy kid

loves playing games with you. he's usually competitive when playing against you but when you're both on a team together, he's suddenly the biggest cheerleader there is. if both of you lose, that's totally fine! you'll get it next time. what matters to him is that you had fun together.

deeply appreciates it and enjoys when you match him nerd-for-nerd, even if you don't share a lot of similar interests. you take turns randomly info-dumping about any piece of media or activity you're into and both of you pay genuine attention to whatever the other is talking about. he loves listening to you passionately talk or share anything about any topic because you do the same for him.

adding on to the previous point: both of you make jokes about liking your favorite fictional characters or celebrities more, just to be playfully petty.

["if you had to choose between me or monica, who would you pick?" "...well, yes!" "..." "alright, then. between me and /insert favorite character/--" "that's unimportant."]

after spending so much time with him, you already know which maintenance products he likes for himself or his guns. kind of like how other people know what shampoo or body wash their partner prefers. when you see he's running out and you buy them without telling him, he'll notice and be weeping tears of joy.

if you take a while to open up to him about certain things, he's alright with that and will tell you to take your time or give you the space you need. he's been the same when it comes to sharing his past with other people and understands that some things do take courage to tell.

seth lowell

despite having been in a relationship for a while, he most likely still gets easily flustered from any vaguely flirty quip and intimate gesture that comes from you. you could use this knowledge to your advantage but do have mercy on the poor guy.

[there was one instance where you gave him a quick peck on the lips without giving much thought to it before leaving and all he could do was stay where he was with his brain buffering for a whole minute.]

even though he's somewhat shy about expressing his admiration or appreciation for you and sometimes stumbles through his words when doing so, he's sincere in everything he says and does for you.

you're one of the very few people he trusts with touching his tail and ears. it's come to the point where when you're both just laying together, he wouldn't mind the feeling of your fingers gently rubbing on a certain spot on his ears while you run your fingers through his hair.

he appreciates that you see him for who he is and acknowledge his efforts to get where he is now. your affirmations, whether spoken or unspoken, mean much to him and he feels like he can truly be comfortable when he's around you.

sometimes, he unknowingly acts or does very attractive things and it just blows your mind. he'd steer you by the waist from bumping into things or, if you're shorter, accidentally pin you against a wall/surface when trying to reach for something from a high place because he just wants to help! you should be more careful, you know. but you've already mentally imploded while your sweet, sweet boyfriend remains clueless.

#zenless zone zero #zzzero #zzz x reader #zzz x you #zenless zone zero x reader #asaba harumasa #asaba harumasa x reader #harumasa x reader #billy kid #zzz billy x reader #seth lowell #seth zzz #seth lowell x reader

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skysdelusions · 2 days ago

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Where are you going?

Summary: An argument that turns rather spicy

Pairing : Stray kids (ot8) x Fem!reader

Genre : Angst , Smut

Word count : 2.3k

Warnings : multiple positions , unprotected sex (I don’t condone, wrap it up), creampie after cream pie, oral sex (m!recieving) , name calling (kinda) , overstimulation. (Let me know if I missed anything)

Notes : Lord , I pushed through writing this. This is kinda of everywhere but I just want to get something out😼.

(This isn’t proof read , please forgive me 🧍🏽‍♀️)

You had been in a polyamorous relationship for about a year now with eight men. You loved these men so much that you could explode but your relationship was getting to that point where you guys had constant arguments. It wasn’t like your arguments were just with one person but eight people, Once one started the rest followed. Usually you’d end the fight with something hurtful then have hate sex. Today was nonetheless one of those days.

You were arguing with Minho because he had said something so out of pocket that it hurt your feelings. That argument had gotten so loud that the boys started piling out of their rooms to see what was all the yelling for.

“No cause your being such a bitch about it” Minho yelled

“I’M BITCHING? YOU FUCKING STARTED THIS!” You yelled

You were so fucking livid at this point , he tried to act like he was the victim when he didn’t have to say anything negative to you.

“YOU ALWAYS HAVE TO OPEN YOUR BIG FUCKING MOUTH TO CRITICIZE SOMEONE , SHUT THE FUCK UP SOMETIMES!” You yelled

He looked stunned , you never really curse anyone out that bad before. You didn’t care how he felt , you were tired of him poking and prodding at you. He needed to be put in his place.

“Baby don’t you think you were a little harsh?” Chris started

“No, I don’t think I was too harsh Chris , he had it coming .”

You were trying to calm down but they just kept saying you should apologize to Minho. Of course they were taking his side.

“I don’t think she should apologize, you guys know how Minho gets” Changbin said

Tears started to stream down cause you were getting frustrated. When you get mad , you start crying . It's been like that your whole life. Finally, some stood up for you and it was your lovely changbin. You loved changbin so much and you were thinking about rewarding him tonight but your thinking got interrupted.

“She should’ve never said those kinds of things to him though.” Jisung said, and the rest of the boys started agreeing. You honestly couldn’t take it any more and you didn’t have the heart to listen so you walked past some of the boys , to the front door and started putting on your shoes and coat. They started to walk towards you and asked where you were going but you just continued to leave.

You just needed time to breathe, to think, to calm down. You went home and replayed the argument in your head so many times that you cried yourself to sleep.

Hours passed, you woke and it was 10 pm already. You had worn yourself out. Even though you were mad at the boys, you missed them so much. You couldn’t stand being mad at them so you ultimately decided that you were going to make up with them , even though Minho started it.

On the ride to the boys dorm , you were just thinking about the argument and how Minho said those rude things to you. As you pulled up , you had to mentally get yourself together before going inside.

As you used your key for their apartment, you saw that they were sitting on the couch. Once they heard the clip of the front door , they quickly got up and tried to make their way towards but they were toppling over one another.

You put your hand up to stop them from coming close.

“We all need to talk.”

As you all sat on the couch , Before you could explain what’s been weighing on your mind, Minho started to speak.

“Baby, I’m so sorry , I didn't mean anything I said.”

“It felt like you did , you even called me out my name. Then everyone started to gang up on me. You guys made me feel like an outsider in my own relationship.” You cried

“Baby , we never wanted you to feel that way .” Chris started

Before Chris could say anything else , you cut him off.

“Well you did. Only changbin was by my side.” You sniffed

“But I don’t care any more , I said some things I shouldn’t have. I just can’t stand to be mad at you guys.”

After the boys started to give they’re apologies and hugs, you were thinking of a way to punish them.

“I want everyone to sit on the couch except changbin.” You said

As everyone settled on the couch , you went and grabbed a chair from the dining room and placed it in front of them.

“Sit , Changbin.”

Changbin had sat down and you started to explain what you were doing.

“I felt the need to punish you guys so this is what I’ll be doing. I’ll be fucking changbin and you guys will be watching. You guys can’t touch yourselves , you guys can’t touch me , you guys can’t touch changbin and you cannot touch each other. If you break these rules then I won’t be fucking you guys for the rest tonight and the rest of the month. Got it?” You smiled

You were so ready to punish and make Changbin suffer. Your sweet baby was just staring up at you like you were the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“Baby , just be a good boy for me and let me do everything ok?”

“Yes.”

You started kissing changbin's body, as you were kissing him , you started to strip him until he was naked and until you were on your knees in front of him. You pulled his boxers down and his cock shot up and hit his stomach. You grabbed it and Changbin let out a sweet moan. You started stroking up his cock while sucking on his tip. You smiled around Changbin's cock as You heard groans behind you. You continued to take changbin whole cock in your mouth , saliva running down the sides of your mouth as changbin started to fuck your throat.

“Fuck baby, I can’t take it, I’m going fucking blow.” Changbin groan

You continued to deep throat Changbin’s cock until he came down your throat. You made sure you swallowed everything he gave you with a smile. As you get up , you decide to start stripping. You made sure you put on a show for the boys. Once all your clothes were off, you started sinking down on Changbin’s cock. The stretch felt so good. You didn’t have time for being prepped.

“Fuck look at her, that pussy is just sucking binnie up.”

“Baby, I’m so hard.”

“Baby I need that pretty pussy.”

You sank down on Changbin and wasted no time bouncing on Changbin's . Changbin gripped your ass and helped you bounce on his cock. It felt so good but you didn’t want to cum just yet, you have seven cocks to go. You kept bouncing until you felt Changbin tighten his grip on your ass.

“Baby , I’m going to cum fuck.” Changbin whined

You started bouncing faster until you and changbin came undone , he filled up your hole so well.

“Fuck I need a turn.”

You got up off Changbin and turned around to see if the boys had broken any of your rules. None of them broke your rules so you knew they wouldn’t take the chance to not fuck you for a month.

“Han, I want you next.” You said

Han got up and started stripping , he was eager to have his fill of you or you filled up of him.

“How do you want me babe?” You asked

“I want you to ride me like changbin please baby.”

“Anything for you , love. Now lay down.”

You had Han lay on the floor because Changbin was still fucked on the chair. Han looked utterly pretty on the carpet but you were going to have him drooling after you were done with him. You were going to give the rest of them head , they didn’t deserve it today. They were lucky enough for you to fuck them.

You grabbed Han’s cock and started to stroke it. He started to whine so you just eased his suffering and sunk down on his cock. The moan he let was just music to your ears. You got on your knees and started to lift yourself up and down on his cock. You quickened your pace and not even long after, you and Han were cumming together.

“Fuck baby”

You got up from Han, cum dripping out of you but you didn’t care. You were still hungry for cock.

“Felix I need you love”

“Sweetheart , please” Felix begged

Felix's voice always made you feel some type of way and that feeling somehow always made its way down south.

You knew how Felix loved to have you. You grabbed a pillow off the couch and laid on your back. Legs wide and open for Felix. By this point , everyone were stripped down to nothing so it was easier for Felix just to fit between your legs and just start fucking you.

“Shit baby, you already had three cocks in you, how are you still so tight?” Felix groaned

You threw your head back and moaned, enjoying this time on your back cause you still had five delicious cocks to go and they just knew how to fuck you. You came and Felix followed. Fuck this was a lot but you never backed now.

You looked at Seungmin next, oh you were so ready for your puppy. Felix got up off you so Seungmin can fill your hole up with his cock. Seungmin just started to fuck you, he grabbed onto your jumping boobs and started groping them aggressively

“You think you can try to punish me ? Bark for me.”

It looks like he made you his puppy for today.

“Mong , Mong” you moaned put

He was quickening his pace , you came after he finally finished in your hole.

Fourth cock down, four more to go. You had mixed cum stuffed in your hole , running down your legs onto the carpet. This carpet might need to be replaced.

Now you are ready for your pretty hyunjinnie and his long cock. You turned over so you could be faced down, ass up. Hyunjin sank down to his knees and started to knead the flesh of your ass, his finger running over your leaking hole. He was observing.

“So much cum baby, you ready for mine?”

“Yes love.”

Then Hyunjin just stuffed his cock into you without warning , it felt so much different from behind you , Hyunjin was pounding into you and it felt so good fuck. He was hitting the sweet spot in you that made your toes curl.

“Fuckkk Hyunjin.” You moaned as you came, you were so sensitive at this point.

Hyunjin continued to fuck you until he was cumming in your hole. You were left trying to catch your breath.

Five down , three to go.

It was now the maknae’s turn to have you.

“Baby you ok, you’re not too far gone right?” He smiled at you

“If not , I need to hold on to the couch.” He said that with so much dominance. Your innie always seemed to disappear when it was time to fuck you. You got up on shaky legs and held onto the couch. Jeongin rubbed the small of your back as he eased his way into your fucked out hole.

“Fuck, still so tight”

Jeongin snapped his hips into yours at a pace you couldn’t keep up so you just stood there taking it. Jeongin had power , the way he was blowing your back out was utterly so much that you came without even knowing. By this point you were fucked out of your mind , just letting Jeongin fill you up.

Fuck , two more and these were by far the worst cause you knew your pussy was going to be destroyed.

Someone had pulled you down to the floor on your knees and that someone was Minho. He loved to fuck you from behind because he loved to see your ass.

“Just sit here and take it jagi.”

Then you were stuffed full of Minho , you moaned. He set a brutal pace as he grabbed the back of your neck and forced you into a deeper arch. He was ramming his hips into you while keeping you in place.

“I’m so sorry for earlier jagi , please forgive”

Minho was hitting that spot that made your insides tingle , fuck your were about to cum so hard. Minho continued to abuse your hole and you eventually creamed his cock. Minho continued until he stuffed you full.

You were wrecked , cum leaking out of you , hair everywhere but you weren’t done.

“Chris, I need you.”

“You sure baby? You already taken a lot-”

“ I’m sure come on and be the last to stuff me.”

Chris put you on your back with your legs pushed up by your head. Chris loved the matting press. Chris made sure you were comfortable before pushing his big cock into your worn out pussy.

“Fuck , Chris.”

Chris started to put his weight on you and drilled his hips into yours. The sound that was echoing through the living room was sinful , his balls were hitting your ass every time he thrusted into you. Chris was set on making you cum first and hard. Chris quickened his pace until you were babbling. He was hitting your cervix so good that it made you so stupid his cock. It was too much.

“Yes baby girl , take it.”

“Too much, I can’t take it.”

“You can and you will baby girl.”

With that you came on Chris’s come , your juices and the mixed cum running down his balls. Chris came and pulled out. Your legs were shaking and you were fucked out. All you wanted now was sleep. One of the boys picked you up and started taking you to the bathroom so you could pee.

Once you were clean , you were laid in bed and cuddled with your lovers.

136 notes · View notes

moonlightdreamzz · 2 days ago

Text

DISPATCH — ENHYPEN.

SUMMARY. When Dispatch exposes your relationship to the world, the backlash is relentless. Every word, every picture, every rumor becomes a test of how strong your love truly is. Will the pressure drive you apart, or will you hold on to each other against all odds?

GENRE. (A)

AUTHORS NOTE. Let me know if you all want a Part 2 <3. I love you.

Heeseung

The Dispatch article feels like a death sentence, glaring at Heesung from his phone screen. His hand trembles as he scrolls through the pictures—grainy but unmistakable. You, smiling at him like he hung the stars in the sky. Him, holding your hand, his guard down for once. Every glance, every touch, every stolen moment between you now dissected and exposed.

“Heesung,” you say softly, breaking the suffocating silence.

He doesn’t look at you. His jaw clenches, his chest swelling and deflating as though the weight of the world is pressing down on it. He swipes out of the article and tosses his phone onto the coffee table, pacing the room like a caged animal.

“They’re going to ruin you,” he says bitterly, his voice cracking. “They’re going to tear you apart.”

You flinch but force yourself to stay composed. “I knew the risks, Heesung. I knew what I was getting into.”

He lets out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. “No, you didn’t. You couldn’t have. You didn’t sign up for this. The threats, the stalking, the hate campaigns—it’s going to get so much worse now.” He finally turns to face you, his eyes dark with fear and frustration. “And it’s all my fault.”

Your heart aches at the sight of him unraveling, but anger flickers in your chest. “This isn’t just about you!” you snap, standing up. “Don’t you think I’ve thought about what this means for me? For us? I’m terrified too, Heesung. But sitting here blaming yourself isn’t going to fix anything.”

His eyes narrow, but his shoulders slump, the fight draining out of him. “What are we supposed to do, then? Huh? Pretend this didn’t happen? Apologize and say it was all a misunderstanding?” He runs a hand through his hair, his voice swelling with frustration. “Do you have any idea what they’re going to say? What they’re going to do to you?”

Your chest tightens, but you stand your ground. “Of course I do. I’m not stupid, Heesung. I know what people are capable of.” Your voice softens, cracking slightly. “But what do you want me to say? That I’ll leave? That I’ll run away to make it easier for you?”

Heesung stares at you, his eyes glistening. “Maybe you should,” he whispers, his voice barely audible.

The words hit you like a slap, and you take a shaky step back. “Do you mean that?”

“No,” he says immediately, his voice swelling with desperation. “God, no. I don’t mean it. But I don’t know how to protect you from this. From them.”

Tears blur your vision, but you refuse to let them fall. “I don’t need you to protect me, Heesung. I need you to be with me. To choose me, no matter how hard it gets.”

He hesitates, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “But what about my members? What about everything we’ve worked for? If this spirals out of control, it could ruin us all.”

Your lip quivers, and you force yourself to take a steadying breath. “I would never ask you to choose between me and your career. But you have to decide if this is worth fighting for. If we are worth it.”

He’s silent for what feels like an eternity, his chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. Then, finally, he steps closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m scared. I’m so scared, Y/N.”

You reach for his hand, threading your fingers through his. “So am I. But we can’t let them win. Not if this—” your voice wavers as you motion between the two of you—“means anything to you.”

He pulls you into his arms, holding you like you’re the only thing tethering him to the ground. His lips press to the top of your head, lingering there. “It means everything to me,” he whispers, his voice raw.

For a moment, the world outside ceases to exist, and it’s just the two of you clinging to each other in the eye of the storm.

Jay

Jay leaned against the edge of the table in his dorm, the harsh glow of his phone screen casting long shadows across his face. His mind feels like it’s short-circuiting, the Dispatch article looping endlessly in his thoughts. The pictures. The headline. The comments.

The messages from the company had already started pouring in, frantic and demanding damage control. The members hadn’t said much yet, but Jay knows the weight of their silence.

Across the room, you sit curled into yourself on the couch, your face pale but composed. You’re scrolling through your own phone, but the way your hands tremble betrays the calm you’re trying to exude.

“We need to talk,” Jay says finally, his voice flat, hollow.

You look up, meeting his eyes. “Okay.”

He opens his mouth, then closes it, dragging a hand down his face as he searches for the words. “This… this isn’t just a scandal. This is everything. My career, my group’s career. You’ve seen what happens when fans turn like this.”

“I know,” you say softly, bracing yourself for what’s coming next.

Jay’s lips part, but for a long moment, he doesn’t speak. He wants to say it. He wants to tell you that it’s over, that he can’t risk everything he’s worked for, everything his members have worked for, just because he’d been reckless enough to fall for you.

But when he looks at you—your eyes wide and glassy, your shoulders set despite the storm surrounding you—something inside him cracks.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says, his voice breaking.

“You already are,” you reply, a tear slipping down your cheek.

Jay’s chest tightens. He pushes off the table and paces to the other side of the room, his movements sharp with tension. “I don’t know how we fix this. I don’t even know if we can fix this.”

You stand, your movements deliberate as you walk toward him. “So what are you saying? That this is it? You’re just going to throw everything away?”

He flinches. “Don’t say it like that.”

“How else am I supposed to say it, Jay?” Your voice swells with emotion, but you refuse to yell. “We both knew what we were risking, and now that it’s real, you’re telling me what? That I was just some phase?”

Jay’s head snaps up, his eyes blazing. “Don’t you dare say that. You’re not a phase, Y/N. You’re—” He cuts himself off, raking a hand through his hair. “You’re everything. That’s the problem.”

Your breath catches, and you stare at him, stunned. “What?”

He exhales shakily, his hands flexing at his sides. “You’re everything, and that scares me. Because I can’t lose you. But if I stay, I risk everything else. My group, my family, my future—everything.”

You reach out, your fingers grazing his wrist. “Jay,” you say softly. “I’m not asking you to choose. I’m asking you to think about what we could be. What we already are.”

He looks down at your hand, then back up at you, his throat tightening. “I need time,” he says finally, his voice raw. “I need to figure out how to protect you, how to protect us. Because if I can’t… I don’t know how to do this.”

The silence that follows is deafening.

You nod slowly, your lips trembling. “Okay. Take your time,” you say, though it kills you to say the words. “But don’t make me wait forever, Jay. If you love me, you’ll find a way.”

He closes his eyes, your words slicing through him like glass. He doesn’t know how to respond, so he just pulls you into his arms, holding you like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded.

“I’ll try,” he whispers against your hair, his voice so quiet you almost don’t hear it.

But for now, that’s all you can ask for.

Jake

Jake sat across from you in the dim living room of the apartment he hadn’t been able to step into since Dispatch released those photos. The air between you swells with a tension neither of you dared to cut through. His jaw flexes as his hand runs through his hair for what must be the hundredth time tonight. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days.

“I don’t even know where to start,” he whispers, his voice tight, like he’s trying to hold himself together.

“Maybe with how you feel,” you say softly. You’re sitting on the edge of the couch, knees pulled into your chest, arms wrapped around them. Your voice doesn’t waver, but your eyes sting from hours of holding back tears.

Jake looks up at you, his dark eyes flickering with conflict. “How I feel? I feel like I’ve destroyed everything,” he says, his voice rising for the first time tonight. “Do you know what the guys must be thinking right now? What HYBE is doing to contain this? The fans—”

“They’re already losing their minds,” you finish for him. Your throat feels tight, but you swallow hard. “I know, Jake. I know.”

The crack in your voice makes him pause. For a moment, he looks like he wants to move toward you, to hold you, to fix this in the only way he knows how, but he doesn’t. He stays where he is, gripping his knees until his knuckles turn white.

“Maybe this was a mistake,” he whispers, and your breath catches.

Your heart drops, but you nod slowly, forcing yourself to be the calm one when you feel anything but. “Do you really think we were a mistake?” you ask, your voice barely audible.

Jake stands abruptly, pacing the small room as if he’s searching for an answer in the air. “I don’t know! I don’t know, okay? I love you—God, I love you—but I didn’t think it would come to this. And now I’m risking everything—my group, my career, you. Do you get that? You’ll be dragged through hell because of me.”

“Jake…”

“No,” he says, spinning around to face you. His eyes are glossy now, his voice raw. “Do you know the kinds of things they’ll say about you? The kinds of things they’ll do to you? I don’t care what they say about me, but you…you don’t deserve that.”

“I don’t care about them!” you snap, your own emotions finally breaking through. “Do you think I didn’t know what I was getting into when we started this? I love you, Jake. I knew it would be hard, but I chose you.”

“And maybe you shouldn’t have!” he shouts, the words leaving his mouth before he can stop them. The second they’re out, he freezes, horror flooding his face. “No. No, I didn’t mean that—”

You stand now, the weight of his words slamming into you. “Maybe you’re right,” you whisper, your voice trembling.

“Y/N, don’t,” Jake whispers, stepping toward you, but you hold up a hand to stop him.

“No. You’re scared, and I get it. So am I. But don’t push me away just because you don’t know how to deal with this.” Your voice steadies now, and you look him in the eye. “You don’t get to decide for me how much I can handle. And you don’t get to say you love me and then act like this.”

Jake’s face crumples, and for the first time tonight, he looks like a boy who’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. “I’m sorry,” he says, his voice cracking. “I’m so sorry. I’m just—God, I’m so scared, Y/N.”

You step forward, closing the gap between you, and gently take his hands. He flinches at first, but when you don’t let go, his shoulders finally sag. “We’ll figure this out,” you say softly. “Together. But only if you stop pushing me away.”

Jake doesn’t say anything, but the way he pulls you into his arms says everything. His hold is desperate, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

“I love you,” he whispers into your hair, his voice breaking. “I love you so much it terrifies me.

You squeeze him tighter, your own tears finally falling. “I love you too, Jake. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Sunoo

Sunoo was standing by the window, his back to you, his hands pressed against the glass as if the city outside could offer him any sort of relief from the storm inside. The constant buzz of his phone—messages, calls, alerts—kept ringing in his ears, but he didn’t look at it. Not yet. He couldn’t.

He had never been one for confrontation, always the type to ease into things and let them unfold, but this—this was a different kind of chaos, one that he had never prepared himself for. His relationship with you, which had started out so quietly, so secretly, had now become the most public thing in his life.

“Sunoo,” you call softly from the couch, your voice a gentle tug at his heart. “Look at me.”

He finally turns, his face pale, eyes clouded with a mixture of fear and disbelief. “What are we supposed to do now?” he whispers, his voice barely audible as he moves toward you.

You stand up, reaching for him, your heart aching at how much he’s carrying. Sunoo, who had always been so careful, so measured with his emotions, now looked broken. The weight of the situation had crushed his usual sense of optimism, and for the first time, you saw him vulnerable, unsure of everything.

“I don’t know,” you say softly, “But we’re going to figure it out, okay?” You reach out and take his hand, his fingers trembling slightly under your touch.

Sunoo glances down at your intertwined hands, his heart heavy. “But what if it’s too much? The fans, the media, my members… our members…” His voice breaks at the last part, and it feels like a dagger to your chest. You know how deeply he values his group, how much he needs them.

“You think they’d want you to be miserable?” you ask, the question simple, but it cuts through the air with undeniable truth. “You think they’d want you to lose the one thing that makes you happy?”

Sunoo bites his lip, his eyes welling up. His throat tightens as he tries to fight back the tears, but you can see them. “But what about everything else? My career, my future… what if this ruins everything we’ve worked for?”

“You think I haven’t been thinking about that too?” you reply softly, stepping closer to him. “But I’m not going anywhere, Sunoo. And neither are you. I know this is a mess, but we’re in this together. We’ll figure out how to clean it up. You’re not alone in this.”

He looks down at you then, his gaze full of longing and a quiet gratitude, but also something else—something deeper. He looks at you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters. And in this moment, you are.

Sunoo pulls you into him, enveloping you in the kind of embrace that feels like home. “I never thought love would find me,” he murmurs, his voice muffled against your shoulder. “But here you are. And I’m not letting you go. Not now. Not ever.”

You hold him tighter, feeling the weight of his words settle in your chest. The world outside might be crumbling, but in this moment, with him in your arms, everything felt like it would be okay. You weren’t going to lose each other. You couldn’t.

“I love you, Sunoo,” you whisper, your voice full of emotion.

“I love you too,” he replies, his voice firm now, like a promise. “And nothing will ever change that. Nothing.”

The rest of the world could burn, but for now, you had each other. And that was enough to get through this.

Sunghoon

Sunghoon’s phone buzzed for what felt like the hundredth time. Every vibration sent a wave of dread crashing into his chest. He knew it was over. The truth had come out, and there was no turning back. Dispatch had exposed the two of you, and now the whole world knew.

He paced around the room, trying to drown out the noise of his thoughts—the sound of his manager’s frantic voice on the other end of the line, the stream of messages from his members, and worst of all, the overwhelming silence from you, who was sitting on the couch, watching him with eyes that broke his heart every time they met his.

His usual calm, his usually composed demeanor, felt like a thin, cracking veneer now. Sunghoon wasn’t like this. He was always the steady one, the one who kept everything together. But now, with the weight of this secret out in the open, his grip on control was slipping.

“Sunghoon…” your voice is soft, almost hesitant. You had been quiet for a while, giving him space to figure out what to do, but it was clear that he was losing himself in the chaos.

He pauses, turning to look at you. His heart swells with a rush of emotion—guilt, panic, frustration, but most of all, a deep, overwhelming love. This wasn’t just some casual fling for him. It was real. It was everything. And yet, the fear of what would happen next, of what this might cost, was suffocating.

“I didn’t mean for any of this,” he says hoarsely, running a hand through his hair. “You don’t deserve this… the attention, the hate… I never wanted this to happen. Not to you. Not to us.”

You stand up slowly, approaching him. You could tell he was struggling with guilt, torn between wanting to keep you and wanting to protect you. You could feel it in the air. His love for you was deep, but so was his sense of responsibility for everything else—the group, his career, the expectations he had put on himself.

“Sunghoon,” you begin, your voice soft but resolute, “I know this is hard. I know it’s a mess, but we can’t ignore what’s happening. I can’t sway you. If breaking up is what you need to do, then we’ll do it. But this… this was real for me. And no matter what happens, I’ll always love you. Even if we can’t be together, I’ll always be here.”

He looks at you, his chest tightening with the weight of your words. There’s a moment of silence as his thoughts swirl, his eyes searching yours, trying to find an answer to all the uncertainty flooding his mind. He feels a mix of relief and fear, guilt and love, but mostly, he feels completely overwhelmed by the consequences of it all.

“You’re… you’re willing to just let go if that’s what we have to do?” he whispers, his voice trembling with a mixture of disbelief and pain. “I’m terrified of losing you, but I don’t want to drag you into this mess.”

You nod, your hand reaching up to gently cup his face. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m not saying it won’t hurt. But we’re both grown enough to understand what’s at stake. And I’ll love you either way. If we can’t be together, I’ll still carry you with me. But I’m not going to beg you to stay in something that’s going to destroy everything.”

Sunghoon’s breath hitches, his emotions breaking through his usual composure. His hands tremble as he reaches out, pulling you into him. His heart pounds against yours, and he can’t help but feel the weight of everything pressing on him—the fear, the loss, and the love that he had never intended to let go of.

“I love you,” he whispers, his voice shaking. “I never wanted this to happen. And I’m so sorry.”

“I love you too,” you reply, your voice steady despite everything. “No matter what happens, no matter what this does to us, I’ll never stop loving you. But we have to do what’s right. We both know that.”

The room is silent except for the sound of your breathing, both of you standing on the edge of an unknown future. There’s a heartbreaking clarity in your words, an understanding of the gravity of the situation. No matter how painful it might be, you both knew that you couldn’t ignore the consequences of this.

But despite everything, the love you shared still lingered between you both, raw and real.

And whatever happens next, you’d hold onto that love, even if it wasn’t enough to keep you together.

Jungwon

Jungwon’s gaze was distant, his usually warm eyes hollow with an unspoken pain that neither of you could ignore. He stood in front of you, his hands clenched at his sides, the weight of the world bearing down on him. He hadn’t said a word for what felt like an eternity, but you could already feel it—the thick tension in the air, the heaviness of a decision that was about to tear both of you apart.

“Jungwon…” your voice trembled, a whisper that barely carried over the noise in your mind. You were afraid of what he was about to say, but you knew deep down that this moment had been coming. You couldn’t ignore the silence between you two anymore.

He finally turned to face you, his jaw tight, his expression unreadable. “I don’t want this to happen,” he said quietly, the words almost strangled as they left his lips. “But the company… they’re not giving me a choice. I’m not allowed to be with you. They’re saying I have to let you go.” His voice cracked slightly, but he forced himself to keep his composure.

You froze, unable to speak for a moment. The realization hit you like a punch to the gut. The person you loved—the person who had become your everything—was being ripped away from you by forces you couldn’t control.

“You—” you tried to speak, but your voice faltered as the tears welled up. “Jungwon, you don’t have to do this. We can fight it. I—I love you. I’m not asking you to choose the company over me, but I can’t just—”

He shook his head, cutting you off gently but firmly. “You don’t understand. I love you too. More than you could ever know. But I can’t risk everything for us. You deserve better than this chaos. I can’t let you be dragged down by me. The hate… it’s too much. The company’s making it clear that if we don’t end this now, it’ll destroy both of us. I don’t want to see you hurt because of me.”

The tears that you had been fighting back now slid down your cheeks, and you stepped forward, desperate to close the distance between you. “I don’t care about the hate, Jungwon. I don’t care about the company. I just care about you.”

His heart clenched at the sight of your tears, but he couldn’t let himself fall apart in front of you. Not now. He had to be strong. “This isn’t something I want, but it’s something I have to do. For both of us.”

You reached for him, your fingers brushing his, but he pulled away, as if the physical contact would unravel him completely. The space between you felt like an ocean now, impossible to cross.

His eyes flickered with a pain that matched yours, but he held it in. He could see the hurt in your eyes—the same hurt that reflected in his own soul. But he couldn’t be the one to keep you in this situation any longer. He couldn’t stand to see you suffer because of his love.

“I’m sorry,” Jungwon whispered, his voice breaking despite his best efforts. “This is the only way.”

You looked up at him, your voice barely a whisper, but it was firm, unwavering despite the tears. “Okay.” Your eyes that were just looking at him with so much pure love, go cold without a second thought. And he knows that it’s just you coping in the only way you know how—to pretend that you don’t care and that you’ll be alright until the thought becomes a reality.

Jungwon’s breath hitched, but he couldn’t respond. He simply turned and walked away, each step dragging him further from you. And the moment he was out of sight, the mask that had held his composure cracked.

The door to his dorm clicked shut, and he collapsed onto his bed, his body wracked with silent sobs. The tears he’d been holding in, the anguish he had forced down for so long, finally broke free. He buried his face in his pillow, muffling his cries, unable to escape the pain of losing you. Of losing everything.

He loved you. He had never been more sure of anything in his life. But love wasn’t enough when the world was determined to tear it apart.

And as much as he hated it, he couldn’t protect you anymore.

Niki

Niki’s phone buzzed again, the screen lighting up with an incoming message. His heart skipped a beat. He already knew what it was. He had been staring at it for what felt like an eternity—his mind racing, his stomach in knots. The company had made it clear. You can’t be together anymore.

He stared at the text from you, the one that had come through a while ago, asking if everything was okay. His thumb hovered over his phone, but he didn’t know how to respond. He didn’t know how to explain the reality of the situation. The pressure from the company was too much, and the love he felt for you was only making it harder.

We need to talk, he typed out, his fingers trembling slightly. He hesitated before hitting send, the words feeling too heavy.

A moment passed before you replied, I’m scared.

Niki wrote back quickly. We can’t keep doing this.

His heart felt like it had been torn from his chest as he continued to type. He had to make this decision, even though it was the hardest thing he’d ever done. I’m sorry. I can’t do this anymore. It’s too much for both of us.

He pressed send, staring at the screen, barely breathing. The silence between the two of you had never been so deafening. He didn’t know what he expected from you, but his stomach churned as he waited for your reply. This was the end, but the finality of it was more suffocating than he could have imagined.

Your reply came quickly.

What do you mean?

He ran a hand through his hair, feeling a mixture of guilt, regret, and sadness. His eyes burned with the effort of holding back tears. I love you. I really do. But this is too much for me right now. I can’t keep pretending like everything is okay when it’s not. I don’t want to hurt you, but I can’t give you what you deserve either.

He couldn’t even look at the screen. He could feel your pain through every word. This wasn’t how he wanted it to end. But his career, everything he had worked for, the constant demands—it was overwhelming, and he didn’t know how to make it work anymore.

I just want you to be okay, he typed. I can’t give you what you need. I can’t keep pretending.

Another long pause. Niki sat with his phone, his hands shaking, staring at the screen.

Then came your reply.

You can’t just walk away from this, Niki. This is real for me. Don’t you get it? Your words hit him like a punch to the gut. He wanted to scream, to tell you how much he wished he didn’t have to make this choice. But the reality of the situation felt like a trap he couldn’t escape.

I’m sorry, he typed, his throat tight. I don’t want to do this, but I don’t know how to make it work anymore. This is the only way I can protect you… protect us.

He paused, staring at the words, wishing he could take them back. But it was too late. The damage had been done.

Your last message came through. If you really loved me, you wouldn’t do this. Not like this.

His heart shattered at the finality of your words. He couldn’t take it back. He didn’t want to let you go, but in that moment, he thought it was the only way to make sure neither of you would get hurt further.

With shaking hands, he typed his final message.

Goodbye.

And just like that, he hit send. The weight of his decision crashed over him, and he let the tears fall. He lay back on his bed, the silence of the room closing in on him. He wanted to pick up his phone, to beg you to forgive him, to say he was sorry. But he knew there was nothing left to say.

The love he had for you was real. But the world they lived in—this life—made it impossible for him to keep you in it.

He had just let you go, and it felt like the worst thing he’d ever done.

#enhypen #kpop black reader #enhypen reactions #enhypen imagines #enhypen oneshots #enhypen scenarios #enhypen black reader #enhypen imagine #enhypen jungwon #enhypen niki #enhypen jake #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen heeseung #Enhypen angst #enhypen sunoo #enhypen headcannons

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theflopwonder · 3 days ago

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I THINK ABOUT THIS ALLL OF THE TIMEEEEEEEE.

(also teehee i will be using this as an excuse to discuss what realistic racial dynamics in Gotham would look like bc I am a black new jersyian, which isn’t the point of this post but it activated my ranting chip, and is going to mirror a lot of what op says)

The thing that a lot of comic writers like to skimp over, unless it's to perpetuate harmful stereotypes, is that disenfranchised neighborhoods, particularly in the inner city, where Batman's work is initially concentrated, especially in the early years, are usually overwhelmingly populated by black and brown people. Historically, for black people specifically, this is because of a Great Migration period during Jim Crow where black folks would come up to the more industrialized north for increased job opportunities and less racism. This is why Newark, NJ has such a high African-American population to this day, it was one of the hotspots.

As a black person who has lived in both NJ suburbs and its inner cities, inner city gothamites would not like Batman for a long ass time, if at all. Why? A lot of comics will focus on Batman stopping a drug deal or a gang member, but do nothing to address the socioeconomic conditions, or demonstrate cultural competency in portraying these neighborhoods' relationship to drug dealing, drug addicts, gang affiliation, and organization, which is often very morally complex, and SURE AS HELL doesn't consider their relationships to police forces or assumes that the power dynamic is shifted in favor of the black and brown inner-city neighborhoods, rendering the cops useless and letting crime prevail which is even WORSE and just blatantly untrue.

OR They just take on a paternalistic view of "these neighborhoods and the people in them need to be saved from themselves". So they have this white man swoop in and save the day and everybody in the neighborhood is just supposed to love him, while the uptight politicians are the ones who have the criticism so you, as the viewer, will already have the seeds of hate planted so you feel vindicated when they are revealed as corrupt and THAT'S the real reason they hate Batman.

In the beginning, Batman will be seen as someone who contributes to the prison industrial complex. He is not helping the citizens of Gotham, he is just a cop. He is a symbol of another white man wreaking havoc on a predominately black neighborhood, and the police won't do anything to stop him. This will even be exacerbated by him beginning to work with the police. If Batman wants to be looked upon fondly by the people he is supposedly helping, he's going to have to acknowledge the racial divide between uptown and downtown Gothamites. He is going to have to WORK for his respect and understand the reasons why he, as Batman, may never get it

(my headcannon is that No Man's Land is when the perspectives of BOTH Bruce Wayne and Batman's reputations turned into net positives. For Bruce it was going to Congress and being the only one to fight directly for them, [as one of the major points of NML was how unfair it was to poor people]. For Batman, it's that when he couldn't get the kids left in NML out of the city, he stayed and protected them anyway. He didn't just go running off like everybody else [even tho he technically did, but y'know, they don't know that), and leave them stranded and alone? That's worthy of respect to them.)

Now if I was too apply ALL OF THIS to Red Hood ... the one shred of hope of black and brown citizens of Gotham would have is that Batman does not use lethal force. He will ruff up our people, break an arm or a leg or a nose, but he will not gun them down. He will not use lethal force. They will not lose their lives. He will let them see another day. And if they see another day, then they have the possibility to do better, and THAT is where Batman and the people of Gotham's hood will be able to find common ground and coexist with each other.

That is completely gone when Red Hood enters the scene.

No, people in the Gotham's hood would not like Red Hood, he would just make things worse. Way worse. He would be the actuality of what everyone feared about Batman. He would ruin a decade's worth of work that Batman put in trying to fix his reputation within these neighborhoods.

You only understand that when you understand black and brown people's relationship with law enforcement.

They will mistake black and brown mothers telling their children to be inside before the streetlights come on as "lower crime rates" and would they be correct? On the surface, sure. But it wouldn't be because of anything productive, it would be because you have successfully scared an entire neighborhood into complacency. You've essentially put them under unofficial marital law dictated by a myth and justified it by saying "Well Batman only scares people who need to be scared,"

(They do this in Batman v Superman, very blatantly, and with a Black woman saying it verbatim, and it's ... it's an interesting choice, I go back and forth on how I feel about it considering the timeline conditions but for now I digress).

I'd even go as far as to argue that the ONLY people who would like Batman as a concept from jump are non-black people in the suburbs. Batman is the type of idea that allows white people to have a conscious spa day, to offer up a simple solution to a complex problem so they don't have to do any deeper thinking about it. He is the whitest of the white savior concepts. Oh he's getting those drug dealers off the street? Thank god, they'll keep that fentanyl away from our promising young and precious suburban kids.

However, once Bruce Wayne began announcing all of these initiatives to help poor people, despite this being the thing that would be what make the crime rates go down and stay down, it also resulted in black and brown people ascending in socioeconomic status oh..... now those kids from the hood are going to be moving into our good schools.... they're going to corrupt our children and expose them to guns and drugs and gangs OH NO! NOT MY GOTHAM!

Semi-Anecdotally and Semi-Historically: This happens a lot in NJ & NY. Speaking for NJ, this happens a lot with kids in inner cities like Newark, who will move downwards to places like Plainfield, and then Plainfield becomes essentially segregated in everything but schools, and people will worry that those "Newark Gangsters" will corrupt their kids, so they move them down further into suburbia to like ... Edison, or Piscataway, where high housing is enough to keep people out. Then they begin defunding Plainfield schools, and stationing Plainfield cops in black parts of town until they decide to gentrify the neighborhood again.

(This is also why you shouldn't listen to people who question why people still live in Gotham. At one point, Camden was one of the most dangerous cities in the world. It is also a college town. Newark is still not a very safe place to live. It is ALSO technically a college town)

Canon-Wise, let's look at Robin issues 25 & 26 (my detested) where a storyline about bringing guns to school has one of Tim's classmates say this verbatim.

He ends up losing his life to a black student via gunshot. It’s framed as ambiguous but to me there’s an obvious reason why this escalated LMFAO don't put your hands on people in a school hallway.

Despite the fact that both kids pull out a gun at the exact same time, and shoot the exact same amount of bullets, who do you think gets more sympathy from both Tim and from the narrative altogether?

Whose motives are positioned as higher in moral value?

Who’s motives are ever even considered?

Who is Tim allowed to lecture gently, vs who is he and Bruce allowed to hunt down, scare, and capture?

This story is allowed to have emotional weight for Tim because he knows Karl. It deliberately attempts to make the reader lose sympathy for Young El because they attach him to a gang.

Batman does make a point to mention that it just easily could’ve been Young-El that died, but it only positions Karl as the only who “doesn’t understand his choice”. They’re the same age. Both high school students. Could it not also be argued that Young El’s situation is worse because he is being exploited by a gang, that is also taking advantage of the fact that he does not fully comprehend the choices that he makes? Or does that only apply to poor former bully jock Karl Ranck.

Let’s also unpack that subtle but glaring racism.

1. The immediate assumption that Young-El will re-offend is racist. Although Tim says it directly, Bruce also indirectly agrees, (conditionally to prop up the "usefulness" of Batman). Was Young El the first person to say it? Sure, but that's just more racism being perpetuated by the narrative because it's not being done to try to make the reader understand black and brown people's relationship to the incarceration system and why recidivism commonly happens, it's meant to portray Young El as a mouthy kid resisting arrest for a crime he committed.

It offers no sympathy towards him even though he is just as much a pawn in the city’s corruption as any other child that falls into a gang. If anything this should be more incentive to y’know … make sure he has help upon release but hey what do I know?

2. This moment, specifically:

If we are analyzing this keeping in mind that Young El does not know who Robin is, but can fully hear this statement being made towards him, ABOUT HIM, in this context that means this can now be considered a VERY racist micro-aggression being aimed towards him. To even hit on the point of each citizen preferring a different vigilante, this is now a reason that Robin's reputation is in the negatives. If I can't count on you to arrest me without being subjected to what can easily be taken as a racial microaggression (because again, he doesn't know who Tim is, or his relationship to this crime and it is unrealistic to expect him to, all he knows is that this white kid is arresting him and telling him that he's essentially too stupid to understand him, which is reinforcing a racial power dynamic) there is now nothing separating you from a regular degular cop.

3. The idea that the fear of seeing Batman will be enough for Young El to not re-offend is racism. That’s not hope for someone's future, that's a form of oppression and is AGAIN fueled by the narrative’s refusal to extend any sympathy to Young El. Telling black and brown citizens that "beyond the law and the courts" (that have historically tried to eradicate us btw) there is …. More fear? More reason to be afraid of the world? And then you wanna end the comic talking about some damn PEACE?????? PEACE FOR WHO???????

Also Bruce’s smile in that panel about scaring Young El … that’s amusing to you? Scaring high school kids that you’re supposed to help? That’s how you want Batman to be “useful”? High school children being exploited by gangs are the people that are supposed to be afraid of the Batman? Oh that’s not… anyway.

In the panel before that one, THEY'RE STILL pointing guns at Young El and the gang, despite the fact that if they are being detained they have already been frisked and had their weapons taken away already.

Sure you can argue that this is less a Batman problem and more reflection of how this actually happens in real life, but idk if I’m writing a story where a deliberate point is made that my protagonists don’t use lethal force … but then they disappear on top of a building and watch as these children and adult gang members are submitting under the threat of lethal force, despite having no weapons no drugs and no way of escape …. you see the problem here?

Hate this mini-arc sooooooo bad. even tho I do think about it a lot when thinking about Tim's relationship with school violence. it's a watershed moment for him and so important to his development, but it's also racist as fuck.

I SAY ALL OF THIS TO SAY. There's a lot of this bullshit that basked into comics, hell, into Batman's very conception that makes it easy to fly over people's heads. I'm sympathetic to it, I first read Robin when I was 15. A LOT of shit was flying over my head. But I do encourage you all to approach these stories with a more critical eye, as they can and do help deepen your understanding of these characters.

And let’s be honest— modern ideas of crime are intrinsically tied to American racial ideologies (the modern American inception of cops is deliberately based on slave catchers). Without considering that nuance, Batman (and definitely Red Hood) can very quickly become another layer of fear and control rather than people who are truly trying to help these neighborhoods thrive.

I know we tend to roll our eyes at "Batman beats up poor people and mentally ill!!!" takes cuz most of the time they're ridiculous and said by people who do not interact with canon but like ... the idea that one person's savior is another person's boogieman is very true, and NOT ALWAYS GOOD, especially if we are considering the usefulness of an american Batman, who is not exempt from american racial dynamics, which very obviously exist in his fictional Gotham, even if subtextually through speech, through drawing, through panel sequencing, etc. Batman is a fantasy, but his lasting power as a character is fundamentally dependent on how well of a reflection he is of real life, and THIS would be the real-life makeup of a real-life Gotham City. I spend a lot of this post critiquing, but I still love these characters, and it's because I love them, that these dynamics are so interesting to explore.

Anyway rant over, I probably did a shit job at convincing y'all but if you made it to the end of this long-ass post, YES PLEASE. EVERYBODY, PLEASE READ CANON.

You know what I've realized these past several months on Tumblr and just...years of consuming content?

It's pretty rare for the fandom to acknowledge Gotham as a city. A real, living city with people in it. Like, sure we always get cutesy posts about Batman or the others from outside perspectives or fics that include interesting ocs (I love u if you do that btw).

But what I mean isn't that. What I mean is: does anyone think of Gotham and its citizens as actual people? Because I've sure seen kind of the opposite.

I see constant arguments or heavily biased (mostly misinformed) posts regarding what Bruce does and how the Batman helps the city. That his riches would get lost in corruption and no one can save the city unless there's violence. You could try and make the argument, sure. But we've seen time and time again in comics that Bruce uses his money to the benefit of the city. We've seen in comics that he employs people who are disadvantaged and gives them opportunities. People know Bruce Wayne gives jobs and treats his employees well. He donates heavily to charities, creates his own organizations, funds Leslie Thompkin's clinic, and consistently updates the safety of his own buildings. People (at least post-Crisis) would know that Bruce Wayne did everything he could to save Gotham after the Cataclysm earthquake/No Man's Land - that he went up against Congress. Of course, not everyone would like Batman. Not everyone would trust the Wayne name. They'd see a stranger who prowls nightly and may or may not rescue you. They'd see the privilege of an old rich name who gets to exert his influence over the city. If you go to him for help, you go to him with the fear, and anticipation of rejection or with the knowledge that he will be safe.

I've also seen the (imo) ridiculous notion that Crime Alley citizens would trust the Red Hood. Maybe some would now, after the reboots and actual comic book evidence that he's doing something. But I cannot fathom living in a city with such heavy crimes occurring and then trusting what is essentially a cop. People don't know the Red Hood. They don't know Jason Todd. They would only know: 1. he has tried and succeeded various times to take over organized crime and drug routes 2. he can and will kill if he sees it fit. In some people's eyes, he would be a cop with even less judicial oversight. In some families, he would be the killer of their breadwinner, of their fathers or family members or lovers. A man with a gun. Eyes without a face. If you go to him for help, you go to him for blood.

This doesn't even begin to lay out the insane amount of vigilantes who live/operate in Gotham. The Batman is not the only figure. The Red Hood is not the only figure. If you boil down Gotham to only the conflict between these two characters, you miss the nuances and varied opinions of the city by miles. If you boil down Gotham to just Batman-affiliates, you miss even more.

For every person who doesn't trust Batman, there's someone who'd prefer Huntress. For every child who lives in fear but can't trust an adult, there's Robin or Batgirl. For an abused woman, there's other women out there who help: Catwoman or Black Canary or Holly Robinson. There's people who'd never trust a vigilante but want safety, they'd have Leslie Thompkins (who operates in Crime Alley) or Lucius Fox who could give them a job.

Not to mention, Batman is very obviously white. There would be some people who would rightfully mistrust white men, and would prefer figures like Orpheus or Onyx or Batwing or the Signal or Huntress (post-N52). There's the Creeper, who would be terrifying but some might prefer the monster over the man. There's Ragman, an explicitly Jewish vigilante who was literally called the Tatterdemalion of the Oppressed and trusted by the poor and homeless. There's Batwoman, Mother Panic, Spoiler, Nightwing, Red Robin, Azrael, Bluebird, the enigmatic idea of the Oracle, Anarky, Ghostmaker, Gotham Girl/Boy, Catman, Alan Scott-Green Lantern, Wildcat.

Hell, maybe someone who lives in Gotham would just straight up trust Superman or the Flash or Wonder Woman more than anyone else. Maybe they'd never once trust someone acting for a perceived view of justice and would just trust an employer like Two-Face or the Riddler or any mobster.

I'm stressing my point here: when you write anyone who lives in Gotham City, keep in mind that they don't know they live in a comic book world. Secret identities are foreign to them, they only know the base actions of each vigilante. Each person's opinion will heavily vary. Every experience colors their view of the city and vigilantes as a whole. Just, idk, widen your horizons and consider about what someone living in a place like Gotham would really think.

To that end, read the comics!!! Research actual cities!!! Take in experiences and history!!! It's all interesting and just adds so much more.

You want one comic that shows Bruce helping Gotham and the various views of Gothamites, read Gotham Knights #32, published in 2002 and titled "24/7." Read it online illegally if you have to!!

#deep diving into some comics? :) deep diving into some bitches? :(#gotham #batman #dc

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wonupatootie · 20 hours ago

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SVT Social Media AU Fic Recsᡣ𐭩 Part III

쉬는 날인데 넌 뭐해 생각 있음 나와 놀래~

Main Recs Masterlist

➣Part I // Part II // Part III

MINORS DNI!!!!!!!

Please like and reblog the fics to show the creators love and support~

Choi Seungcheol

“The Way Back” by @suhnshinehaos

Gn!reader || rapper x actor, angst, fluff, some humour || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･fans reminisce on your relationship with seungcheol

Kwon Soonyoung

“Let Me Hear You Say” by @cherrycheolliesc

Fem!reader || YouTuber au, friends to enemies to lovers, comedy, angst, fluff || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･after not seeing each other for years, Yn is ecstatic when she finds out all of her friends will finally be in the same place at one time. but unfortunately an unwanted situation turns a 12 year friendship into hateful relationship between yn and soonyoung. as things grow sour between them, their group gets tired of it and tries to fix things.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“The Roomie” by @zo-byeol

Fem!reader || roommates au, fluff || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･kwon soonyoung and his friends need a roommate. (y/n) just got evicted. It sounds simple enough, but really, is anything ever simple?

Jeon Wonwoo

“To My Youth” by @viastro

Fem!reader || love alarm inspired au, slice of life, fluff, humour, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･in a world where everyone finds out who loves them within a 10 meter radius through the app love alarm, confessing your feelings without the use of the app is no longer considered normal. however, you refuse to download it in hopes that you’ll be able to fall in love without being dependent on love alarm.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Back To You” by @seventeensmaus

Fem!reader || brother's best friend, fluff, humour, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･y/n and mingyu are twins. they are pretty much inseparable along with their childhood friend seungcheol. the three live together in an apartment. y/n has never met mingyu’s friends. that is until one day she finally does and sees someone from her past.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Clueless” by @hanniedream

Coworker au, fluff || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Wonwoo and you are were both oblivious idiots.

Lee Seokmin

“Sunshine and Sunflowers” by @shuastruck

Fem!reader || college au, sort of childhood friends to lovers, fluff, humour, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･when you entered college, the last thing you expected was to see your childhood friend lee seokmin in a sea of unknown faces. but just as you had expected, he didn't even remember you in the slightest. you didn't blame him; he had moved away in first grade and how many people remembered their best friend from kindergarten? but that didn't stop you from falling for his cute smile and sweet personality, so now you were stuck in love with a boy who barely knew your existence.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“We Have Chemistry” by @seungcy

Fem!reader || college au, slice of life, fluff || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Being a biology major was difficult enough along with juggling an internship at a hospital. So how about adding some cute guys to your internship to spice it up a bit? Can you balance it out?

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“What Is Love?” by @cupidhaos

High school au, cupid au, past life au, fantasy, fluff, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･seokmin never expected to fall in love with a human - especially one that was supposed to be with somebody else

Chwe Hansol

“Two Minus One” by @twogyuu

Fem!reader || uni/recent college grads au, strangers to lovers, fluff, crack || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･What’s a better way to find love in the modern day than through dating apps? Eight months after his breakup with his long-time girlfriend, Vernon is finally ready for the dating scene once more - or so he thought. Finding the new game of love more challenging than he remembered, he reaches out to you, Chan’s best friend and legendary wing woman, for help.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Lie Again” by @escapewriter

Fem!reader || idol au, soulmate au, fluff, humour, slight angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･a world in which various types of the soulmate system apply, you just so happen to have one that is completely stupid; being able to hear what your soulmate thinks of. however, when your soulmate hums a certain tune, you cant seem to get it out of your head.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“花樣年華 : HYYH : Golden Years” by @sw1mmingfoolz

Fem!reader || college au, eventual roommates, angst, fluff, slowburn || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･when vernon and y/n realise their partners are cheating with each other, they strike up an unlikely friendship trying to figure out how it all began.

Unspecified Endgame

“Feverish Lips” by @sunlightwoo

College au, mafia au, fluff, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･you’d think that because it’s the first semester of the year, it’d be like the beginning of a roller coaster when its slowly becoming climatic and stressful. however, once you’re at the top of the point you have two choices: scream your lungs or quickly hang onto your life support. sadly in your case, you can either suck it up and get through it, or get involved in its loops in tangles with trouble that is bound to be met within every corner that you turn to.

⤷“Louder Than Bombs” (Part 2 of feverish lips)

College au, mafia au, fluff, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･the past semester of your senior year was hectic after the winter ball, its events making it harder for you to get back into your old routine. a rollercoaster that you finally managed to get off of for a blink of an eye, when suddenly you’re strapped on once more. you think to yourself that maybe you’ll make it to graduation in May; maybe alive.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Here Comes The Sun” by @seokgyuu

Fem!reader || college au, slice of life, angst, comedy, fluff || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･what's supposed to be just another year of fun and games at one of south korea's top universities turns into a rollercoaster of emotions for you. stuck between best friends and former crushes, you try to find love, friends and most importantly yourself.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“A Poem A Day” by @wooahaeproductions

Gn!reader || modern day cyrano!, fluff, romance, angst, comedy || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･When Mingyu literally falls head over heels for someone, he has no idea what to do. What happens when he gets help (and a little meddling) from his friends? it definitely won’t be boring, that’s for sure.

Please let me know if the links have any problems~

#skye's recsᡣ𐭩 #seventeen fic recs #seventeen imagines #seventeen social media au #seventeen smau #seventeen x reader #seventeen smau fic recs #seungcheol x reader #soonyoung x reader #wonwoo x reader #seokmin x reader #hansol x reader #ot13 x reader #seventeen social media au fic recs

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hollowed-theory-hall · 3 days ago

Note

What are your thoughts on the possibility of Petunia redeeming herself or atoning for her abuse of Harry? This is more ramblings and musing then coherent ask, sorry.

You mentioned in a previous post that while she might not love him, she is concerned for her nephew’s safety - as well as that her emotions towards Harry are quite complex (similarly to her emotions towards and relationship with Lily, post-magic revelation).

There are many fics where Petunia does eventually break the cycle of abuse she and Vernon perpetuate on Harry (but usually this is the result of either divorcing Vernon or her husband outright dying), but I’m kind of curious as to what you think in your analysis of her character.

Petunia is a tough nut to crack for me when it comes to fics where she is redeemed.

At the very least, the extreme neglect and enforced silence that Harry is raised in just…it’s terrible when you look at it more deeply than the early books intend.

Which is made worse still by later on, when she swings a frying pan at his head (Chamber of Secrets, I think?).

In the first books, I get that as the target audience was young kids, not much gravitas was placed in Harry’s treatment in the hands of the Dursley’s - they were the bad family he escaped into the magical world from, the anti-thesis to the Weasley family later, meant to seem more caricature and buffoonish.

If that frying pan had hit Harry, though? Depending on how hard Petunia swung it, no matter that she was concerned for Dudley (after Harry didn’t even use magic, just pretended to), that could have killed him.

We know Dudley beat Harry quite often with his friends, and Vernon at the very least threatened to do so (and from some of Harry’s lines, likely went through with said threats at times), but little about Petunia’s abuse of Harry is mentioned except in the very early books - her shaving his hair except for his bangs for example, leaving him to go to school mortified - so there’s no indication that she regularly threatened him physically over the emotional abuse, but still.

Not to mention the potential for neglect/abuse that Petunia herself went through, Lily being their parent’s favored child over her, how that in turn also affected her relationship with her sister, and then how that is turned on to Harry…

Petunia’s character, and redemption/atonement for Harry’s abuse is such an interesting concept.

Personally, I was never interested in a Petunia redemption arc. I think she's just as bad, if not worse than Vernon. So I'm going to have to disagree with you.

It's not that Petunia's sitting there feeling bad about how she and Vernon treat Harry and wish she could stop it — she doesn't. It's very clear throughout the books that she isn't remorseful at all.

Her feelings about Harry are complex because Harry is Lily's son. And as bitter and jealous as Petunia is, I think, she used to love her sister. Used to even be protective of her. So, deep down, I don't think she wants Harry dead or seriously hurt (to her standard), but at the same time, she feels justified in hurting him and treating him as subhuman.

See, Vernon truly does hate wizards. He fears magic, he loves normalcy, and he despises the "freaks" that essentially represent everything he hates. He's straightforward and completely honest in his approach.

The reason I sometimes consider Petunia worse, is becouse she isn't honest, she's a fucking hypocrite.

She wanted to be a witch. She wanted to be special and go to wizard school like Lily. She was jealous of Lily that she got to do magic and go to Hogwarts.

Petunia started calling wizards freaks and latched onto normalcy as a way to cope with not being special. I mean, she was told that magic exists, that there's a whole special world of magic out there, but that she isn't special enough to become part of it.

So young Petunia coped by going in the opposite direction. She became as normal as can be. Started claiming anyone special was a "freak" even when deep down she fucking knows that if she got a chance she'd leave and go to Hogwarts in a heartbeat. That deep down she wants to be special.

She transferred that jealousness and bitterness, then toward the wizarding world as a whole onto Harry personally, which is so unfair. Like, I find it disgusting, I find it disgusting how righteous she feels treating him the way they do. She is very similar to Snape in this regard (projecting her problems with Harry's parent onto Harry), just without any of the redeeming qualities since she isn't even all that smart, and she wouldn't give a shit if all her neighbors died one day (Snape would). And Snape was better to Harry than Petunia, let's be real, being an ass to a kid is not the same as starving a kid and locking him in a cupboard.

But I do want to point out, that she doesn't have the excuse of a cycle of abuse (I'm saying excuse because that's what it is. Tragic backstory can be used to explain characters' actions but it doesn't absolve them) becouse Petunia wasn't abused or particularly neglected. We have no indication she was, and I think it's more likey she was treated well.

We're told their parents loved having a witch in the house by Petunia in PS, but when we see Snape's memories, apparently their parents urged a pre-Hogwarts Lily not to do magic. They feared it until it was explained to them. Petunia is biased in what she says. Because while they were supportive of Lily once they understood, I don't believe they ever mistreated Petunia, and I don't think she is meant to be read as neglected.

I mean, Lily wasn't even home most of the year, Petunia was getting all of their parents' attention year-round, and during the breaks, they probably dotted on Lily because they hadn't seen her in months. This isn't neglect or abuse. This is Petunia being a petulant child who didn't get to be showered in attention all the time because her parents wanted to hear from the daughter they only got to see, like, 3 months a year.

I don't think either Lily or Petunia were abused or neglected, and I find it somewhat silly to try and justify Petunia by giving her a tragic backstory when the books make her reasons to hate Harry very clear. These being jealousy and pettiness.

So, I'm not interested in a redemption arc or atonement arc for Petunia or Vernon for that matter. I think neither of them deserves it and the only atonement I'd be interested in for them is a prison sentence for child abuse and neglect.

Yes, Petunia may not beat Harry physically as often as Vernon or Dudley, but she lets them. She watched him be chased by Marge's dog and laughed. She approved of Vernon's and Dudley's treatment of Harry because if she didn't, she wouldn't have let it happen. She stopped Vernon from throwing Harry out of the house when Dumbledore sent a threatening letter to her in OotP; if she cared to stop the abuse she didn't actively participate in herself, she had the power to do so, but didn't. Becouse she thought Harry deserved it. She mistreated him just as much. Looking at him with disgust and scorn and calling him a freak is abuse. Starving and locking him up is abuse. She isn't any better than Vernon.

The only Dursley I can see redeemed is Dudley. He started his journey in the books (btw, in that scene, Petunia thinks Dudley is "too sweet" for telling Harry he isn't a waste of space) and he actually was a child, like Harry. He did what his parents did like every child does. But he shows signs of improvement after Harry saves him from the dementors. He realizes his parents are full of shit.

So, yeah, Dudley is the only Dursley I'm interested in a redemption for. Petunia and Vernon deserve a prison sentence.

#harry potter #hp #hp meta #asks #anonymous #hollowedtheory #harry potter meta #the dursleys #vernon dursley #petunia dursley #dudley dursley

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respectthepetty · 1 day ago

Text

Choose Violence: Pick One - GMMTV Edition

This started because of a "we hear you, and we don't judge" post because I was thinking about a pair who has *the* show that everyone loves, but I wouldn't pick that show as the show that highlights them best as a pair. So I'm going to sit in my truth for the GMMTV branded pairs and pick which show I think highlighted them best as a branded pair.

However, in order for the couples to be in this list, the pairs must have acted as at least THREE different couples as of the end of 2024, so for example, JimmySea is out because they only have Vice Versa and Last Twilight. The implied relationship in Perfect 10 Liners doesn't count since Jimmy didn't appear. So by these standards, even Singto x Krist are OUT! Most of the "newbies" like Winny x Satang are out too, but not all of them!

Off x Gun

Senior Secret Love, Theory of Love, Not Me, Cooking Crush, The Trainee

These are the boys who started the list because I should pick Not Me, but I'm going to be honest with the crowd - COOKING CRUSH! It's been their best show. Fight me!

Tay x New

Dark Blue Kiss, Cherry Magic, Peaceful Property

Technically, they shouldn't be on this list because they didn't play a couple in Peaceful Property since it wasn't a BL, but this is my list and there is no way Polca wasn't going to be included, so it's canon to me, and therefore PEACEFUL PROPERTY is their best show! I wrote what I wrote!

Earth x Mix

A Tale of Thousand Stars, Cupid's Last Wish, Moonlight Chicken

It's way too soon to know how Ossan's Love will turn out, but even if it's great, I know my choice because it will always my choice - CUPID'S LAST WISH! They played comedy, drama, and romance. It gave them dimensions. It gave them the range.

Pond x Phuwin

Fish Upon the Sky, Never Let Me Go, We Are

Oh, this is soooo har---NEVER LET ME GO!

Force x Book

Enchanté, A Boss and a Babe, Only Friends, Only Boo, Perfect 10 Liners

I know I should pick A Boss and a Babe, and before 2024, I would have easily picked that show, but now I know that Force and Book have the range, yet have been handed some of the weakest plots that horribly typecast them, so my pick is the only one that did them true justice - PEACEFUL PROPERTY with a steel chair!

First x Khaotung

The Eclipse, Moonlight Chicken, Only Friends, The Heart Killers

They will always turn out the best performance, but I have to go with the reason we even got them in the first place - THE ECLIPSE. Easy.

Milk x Love

Bad Buddy, Vice Versa, 23.5

BAD BUDDY, duh.

Gemini x Fourth

My School President, Moonlight Chicken, My Love Mix-Up

Were they a couple in Bad Buddy? Doesn't matter because there is only one show here that proved to me that even if I hate their upcoming Ticket to Heaven, they will win all the awards for it because they can act and had me by the throat in MOONLIGHT CHICKEN. Good for them!

Junior x Mark

Midnight Museum, Cherry Magic, Perfect 10 Liners

I really think they are going to serve in Perfect 10 Liners, but just like Force and Book stealing my heart in one episode in Peaceful Property, Junior and Mark did the same in MIDNIGHT MUSEUM, and I still hope they are together in a parallel universe.

Boun x Prem

Until We Meet Again/Between Us, Even Sun, Cutie Pie

It'd be obvious to go with Win x Team since they played them twice, but fuck it, we ball, so it's CUTIE PIE for the established couple!

View x June

10 Year Ticket, Dangerous Romance, 23.5., High School Frenemy

I have to squint for some of these, but this is my list, so since I'm not getting them again, I'll do what I want! I'm giving it to the show I only watched fan-made videos of their parts - HIGH SCHOOL FRENEMY since I think they did best with hating AND pining.

Aou x Boom

Midnight Museum, Vice Versa, Hidden Agenda, We Are, Perfect 10 Liners

This is the hardest one because they have played a couple so many times and it all started with Enchanté where they weren't even a couple (right?), but even the tiny knowledge that Dome took over Boom's body in Midnight Museum had me in my feels! I'm confident that Memoir of Rati is going to be their best outing so far, but I still wouldn't be able to pick just one. DRAW because I think every version of a couple they have played is fantastic. Period.

Joong x Dunk

Star in My Mind, Hidden Agenda, The Heart Killers

I'm a Jaidee fan first, and a human second, so I love everything they have done, but gun to head, it'd be THE HEART KILLERS.

And it's only because the show leans into why I think they are a great pair in the first place since this is how they behaved in Safe House.

Basically, I think they are playing themselves.

A really loud kid pestering a quiet kid into leaving the house.

Choose Violence Bonus Round:

Ohm x Singto in He's Coming to Me is the best pairing either has had, and the competition isn't even close.

Thor x Fluke should have been a branded pair after The Warp Effect and could've easily pulled Wandee Goodday off (glad we got Great x Inn though).

And for Marc x Poon to be thrown together at the last minute, they are running circles around these established couples.

I wrote what I wrote. Fight me in a Texas Chicken parking lot, and come prepared because the streets raised me, and I'm Catholic, so I ain't afraid to go hard 'cause God will forgive me!

#choose violence and pick one #gmmtv edition #I wrote what I wrote #and with all the disrespect in my body - I'M RIGHT!#especially that bonus round

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namism · 2 days ago

Note

Oooo maybe a fluff/unspoken feelings piece w Kid??

i love | eustass kid

➳ categories: modern au, female reader whose stepbrother is killer

➳ warnings: lots of swearing

➳ word count: 1.5k

➳ summary: Something about your relationship with Eustass Kid is unexplainable, but it's the type of unexplainable that you're comfortable with, no matter how odd it may seem.

➳ notes: i'm sorry if this is too niche, i had a vision tho 😭 most of his personality is based on these headcanons. thanks for the request! ❤️

➳ cross-posted on ao3

"Shit. Bad date again?"

You can't see his face, but Kid has a shit-eating grin spread across his lips as he emerges from the driver's seat of his run-down pickup truck, a hand-me-down from your and Killer's uncle that Kid and his crew of metalheads use to drive to showcases in the city. He bangs the door closed, pockets his keys, then walks over to your seated ass on the curb.

"Shut up," you mutter. Kid sits beside you, and that's when you notice that he's holding a bottle of beer. He pops the cap open with his teeth, but you snatch it from his hands before he could take a sip. "You can't drink. It's late, and you're driving me home."

"It's just beer," he deadpans. Even then, he doesn't try to wrest the bottle from your hands, instead choosing to watch you take a depressive swig. He chuckles. "How was your shitty date?"

You glare.

"You asshole— how many times do I have to tell you that it wasn't a date? The beer tastes awful, by the way."

Kid is taken aback by your statement more than your aggressive manner of shoving the bottle toward his chest. The liquid sloshes around the bottle upon impact, and at that moment, the smell of bitter hops reaches his nose. He places it down on the asphalt and clasps his hands together.

"I got it from your brother. Blame him," he says. Your expression turns sour at the mention of Killer. "I would never risk a DUI while driving you home."

"Prince Charming," you tease. Kid is your stepbrother Killer's best friend, who you happen to be close with after many tag-alongs to gigs and shows in your city. Killer is convinced that you're closer to Kid than him with the frequency of your meet-ups and last-minute pick-up requests, and at the rate you're going, he's kind of right.

Kid sneers.

"Let's talk about your shitty date."

You roll your eyes.

"It wasn't a date."

"It looked like it to me. You don't wanna give the dude a chance? He sounded like a nice guy."

"Never in a million years. Anyone within a ten-mile radius from him would know that you're lying through your teeth right now." Pulling your knees to your chest, you gently lay your head on top of them. "I rejected him. He ran out of the diner as fast as he could. Thought everybody was pitying him because his ego couldn't take a rejection."

Kid smiles again, but this time wider. You went out with a guy tonight because you were too kind to reject his past advances, which more often than not attracted public attention when you didn't want them to. You tried to turn him down a couple of times before, but he couldn't get the hint. When he asked you out yesterday to dinner, you decided to reject him once and for all, with Kid and Killer's support.

Now that you've rejected the guy, Kid feels fucking fantastic. He hated him with his guts because he wouldn't leave you alone. Still, he loves to tease the fuck out of you, loves to play dumb and provoke you further, just to spark your enraged reactions because you look like a cute barking puppy.

Swirling his tongue in thought, Kid decides to pat your head with his big rough hand, ruffling your hair just a bit as he praises you.

"That's my girl. The next time he approaches you, try kicking his balls."

"Wouldn't that count as assault?"

"He harasses you, so what's the deal? Tomato, tomato; potato, potato. Defend yourself, please."

You laugh. "What the fuck?"

Grabbing the beer bottle, Kid rises from his seated position and offers you his hand. You stare at it, blankly.

"Come on, I'll take you somewhere you'll like."

You narrow your eyes at him.

"And where is that?"

"Answering would ruin the surprise. Just come with me, will ya?"

In the blink of an eye, you're Kid's passenger princess as he drives you to who-knows-where, an occurrence in your strange friendship that happens every so often when the both of you are left alone with a car full of gas. You roll down the window and make sure that no vehicle is passing by before sticking your hand out, feeling the wisps of cool air nip at your skin. When you move your head past the window, Kid hooks his fingers on your belt loops and pulls you back down.

"Fuck no, sit back down. No head-sticking, only your hands."

"But—"

"Your brother is gonna kill me if I bring you home headless. Hands. Only."

You stick your tongue out at him, but Kid only rolls his eyes. He lets you do whatever you want as long as you're not a second close to dying, often looking at you go wild in the passenger seat as he drives.

Minutes later, the truck slows down to a parking lot, a small rink built right in front of it.

You're the first to hop off, approaching the rink with blown irises as string lights scatter about to set a mood of warmth. It's not any other rink; it's a roller rink, perfect for rollerskating, perfect for two people to share a moment of intimacy.

"I'd much prefer iceskating, but this will do."

Kid holds up two skates in his hands, one of which seems to fit you nicely in a color you love.

You get on the rink as soon as you can, planting your feet on the ground as he hooks his fingers yet again on the loops of your belt. You sneer at him as he adds to your weight.

"Well, aren't you a big baby? Always leeching off me, never letting go," you say.

"Blah, blah, blah, it's a precautionary measure."

"You and precautionary measures don't go together."

Kid grabs you by the waist and turns you around, pushing you up against him. Your feet give up, but his hold on you is firm.

"Just like oil and water?"

You hit his chest.

"I hate you! Don't scare me like that!"

"That's what you get, brat." His lips morph into a grin while you hit him with weak punches. He laughs at your helplessness. "You get surprised by the simplest things. What I did right there was romantic for anyone but you."

"That was not romantic."

"What did I just say?"

"I hate you," you mutter. He laughs softly.

"Do me a favor and get yourself a guy who can treat you like that," he says. Your stomach turns, and your eyes fall to the ground. "You got a problem?"

"No, I don't."

You abruptly bump into him in an attempt to knock him over his feet, but he remains standing. At that moment, he traps you within his arms through a big embrace.

"So what's the hold up? Still stubborn?"

You punch his bicep as you squirm in the hug.

"You know why," you tell him.

"I do?"

"Ugh..."

You stop wriggling around. Kid feels something coming up.

You place your hands on his chest.

"You know why I don't want to date anyone else. You know."

"I know," he whispers. "So why can't you just say it out loud?"

"It's not that I can't say it— it's just..." You suck in a deep breath. "Is now the perfect time for it?"

"I don't know."

He guides your hands from his chest to his face, allowing you to cup his cheeks and touch them gently.

"But if you don't say it now, then when will you?"

A breathy laugh escapes your lips as you look at him. This isn't how you expected your day to turn out, but you aren't mad about it.

You like Kid.

You always have, and you know he likes you, too.

"I'll just show it to you."

You pull his face closer to yours and meet his lips. Kid leans further down to deepen your kiss, but he stays sweet and gentle, a complete 180 degrees from what people usually expect from him. The kiss is slow, like you've been meaning to do it for a long time and you don't want to rush the movement. Kid matches your pace perfectly, and he lasts longer than expected as he doesn't seem breathless when you pull away.

"Was that demonstration good enough?" you ask.

"No." He shakes his head. "I think I need another."

You hit his chest another time.

"Ouch, baby. You hurt my feelings."

As Kid feigns discomfort, you pull him close to your face again and peck his cheek.

"Do I have to say it?" you ask. "I love..."

He smiles.

"Nah, fuck that. Just show it to me. Took us long enough, honestly." He pinches your cheek. "I finally got you."

When he lets go of your waist, you race around the rink while he tries to catch you.

Something about your relationship with Eustass Kid is unexplainable, but it's the type of unexplainable that you're comfortable with, no matter how odd it may seem.

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thanosscross · 1 day ago

Text

Baby - Choi Seung- Hyun/ T.O.P x reader Part 4

Summary: The next forty eight hours would be crazy for you, between going public with your relationship with Seung Hyun, to becoming a backup dancer for Bigbang out of the blue

Warnings: Details of the reader having a panic attack

Today was a big day for not only you and Seung Hyun, but for the rest of the band as well, you and your boyfriend were finally going public with your relationship, feeling as if you were stable enough after a full year together to let everybody know.

As you looked in the mirror one last time you took a deep breath, the next time you'd leave this house you wouldn't be known as the boys's new friend, you would be known as Seung Hyun's girlfriend, even if had been official for a year, you were still nervous about the millions of people who admired your boyfriend and how they'd feel. Opening the door you jumped yelping as you were met face to face with Dae-Sung "Are you okay, dear?" He asked softly resting a hand on your shoulder "Seung Hyun is with our boss..but he wanted someone to check on you" He explained, you offered him a smile trying to shake your nerves "I'm okay, just a little nervous" You whispered trying to shake the nerves out, literally, Dae-Sung giggled at your actions, before hugging you gently "it's okay, you're our girl, we're not going to let anybody say anything negative, especially Seung Hyun" He reassured, you nodded softly, returning the hug before looking at him "So..How do I do this?" You asked tilting his head, while you modeled occassionally, you had never done a whole announcement video before, but the boys swore that their video announcing their new tour dates would be an amazing time, that way you could go with them.

"Oh! It's gonna be so easy, dear! Just follow Seung Hyun's lead, we've got it all scripted out" He smiled, leading you to the living room excitedly "Baby" Seung Hyun's voice was like a warm hug to you as soon as he called you, you approached him quickly, hugging him as tightly as you could, it had been almost a week without him while they filmed music videos, and that was hell enough for you. "Ready?" He smiled placing his hands on your hips, you nodded, before tilting your head "I still don't know what I'm doing" You giggled, hoping he'd give you some direction, but instead he just chuckled "Just look pretty for me, baby" He whispered to you as their manager held the phone starting to record "Hello! It's BigBang! We're so excited to share with you that we'll be going on tour again!" Dae-Sung cheered, Ji-yong noticed his cue furrowing his eyebrows "Top! Get over here we're recording our tour video!" He shouted before their manager turned the camera towards the both of you, you sqeaked in shock as Seung Hyun held the back of your neck, pressing his lips against yours deeply causing your cheeks to heat up rather quickly, the camera turning back to the boys quickly as they stared in 'shock' "Y/n!" They shouted before their manager gave the go-ahead that they were done recording, Seung Hyun slowly pulled away, looking you in the eyes before smiling, your face was hot with a blush that you attempted to hide with your hands.

Nobody was expecting the video to blow up as much as it did, the more surprising part was you were getting more love than hate, most of the reactions you had were about how adorable it was how flustered you got with your boyfriend, or your height difference, or the face Top was gently with grabbing you, but not so gentle with his kiss. As you sat in the airport you scrolled through you phone watching the boys and their management team talk, not wanting to be nosey you looked down to your phone again, not noticing the four boys slowly making their way to you "Y/n" "Dear" "Darling" "Baby" You heard back to back, you sighed looking up at them, unable to hide your smile "Yes?" You asked giggling, starting to feel the effects of your medication take over, it wasn't that you were high, but the longer you fought off the sleep the pills induced, the more you'd feel high, aw, the joys that come with the fear of flying while dating a K-pop idol. "One of our back-up dancers isn't going to make her flight..and since you've already been our back up dancer before for videos...we were thinkingggg" They started before all of them started to talking together "I don't care" You shrugged, not realizing in the moment you'd be on stage, in front of hundreds of thousands of the people, the boys cheered loudly before being hushed by Seung Hyun "Shhhh, public place" He reminded, helping you out of your seat to start heading towards the plane.

You slept the entire plane ride, even needing Seung Hyun's help waking off of the plane due to not being fully awake, whenever you did finally wake up, you were standing against Seung Hyun's side, his arm wrapped around you as they waited for their bags to come around the baggage claim. As everybody grabbed their bags you took notice to everybody thanking you again, why were they thanking you so much? All you did was take an amazing nap? Getting to the hotel you slowly started to realize something was agreed upon at some point seeing two different sets of costumes in your room closet. "My love?" You called out, seeing your boyfriend emerge from the connecting room "Babyy" He smiled "Are you ready for tonight?" He asked grabbing your hands gently "About that...What am I doing?" You asked before pulling your medication out of your purse waving it at him "I can't remember" You offered, he looked at you almost like he was going to get in trouble as the words now echoed in Seung Hyun's brain 'Baby, I have to take these so don't ask me to do anything, or ask me anything important'

"So..I might've forgot...and We asked you if you'd be our back up dancer, because one of ours missed her flight" He shyly recalled, you groaned letting your hand fall against his chest "Do you know how many people will see if I ruin something!?" You shouted, starting to pace, you heart hammering in your chest, you breathing started to become erratic as you tried to wrap your arms around yourself as a self-soothe tactic. "Baby, you haven't ruined anything ever" He stated trying to grasp ahold of you, but you stepped out of reach last minute "Seung Hyun! This is your guys's career!" You shouted, not noticing the three other boys slowly making their way into the room hearing your panicked shouts, you were trying to hold back sobs as you also tried to catch your breath pacing. "I-I don't even look like your back up dancers!" You added on, wiping the tears that were sitting on the curve of your top lip "I can't do that, Seung Hyun!" You gasped a bit as you slammed into his body, now suddenly standing right in your path, Seung Hyun grabbed your face, not rough enough to hurt you, but not exactly gentle either. "Y/n. You're spiraling, take a moment" He demanded, his tone stern, you took a few shaky inhales before grabbing onto his wrist tightly, desperate to get an actual breath of air rather than what you've been doing. "Keep going, you're okay" He added on, his tone still stern, but the volume of his voice was a lot softer. You hiccupped sightly finally taking a deep breath, feeling the familiar light headed fuzzy feeling throughout your body.

Seung Hyun kept ahold of your face, repositioning it to look at him "I won't force you..but I will say, You haven't and won't ruin anything, and the fact you're so quick to insult the woman I love is starting to irritate me" He said, his tone becoming harsher, you nodded slightly feeling his touch become a little more gentle than before "I just...you guys have an image with everything..and...I don't want to mess that up" You muttered, Seung Hyun sighed "Our image is just that, ours, we do what we want with it, with management approval, we want you" He stated, You nodded before hugging him tightly "Promise you'll help?" You asked, only now noticing he had started to get ready "We all promise to help" He agreed motioning to the separating door, the boys leaving the minute Seung Hyun grabbed you, not wanting to see you two fuck if you did.

The start of the show was smooth, you were remembering everything that was shoved at you in such a short amount of time, until their song Bae Bae. Halfway through you noticed you had completely forgot, you knew you couldn't run off stage, almost as soon as you realized, so did your boyfriend, making his way over before grabbing your hand pulling you forward slightly, to stand in front of him. He kept moving to the music, slowly moving your hand to rest on his neck before raising his arms up bouncing to the beat. Seung Hyun kept close to you, making sure if he was rapping his verse and had to leave your side he held your hand before handing you over to one of the other boys.

The rest of the show you kept losing yourself in thought, going on auto pilot basically as you danced, not really realizing the show was over until you were back in the dressing room "Listen Y/n the fans loved you! And I swear! Your body language with everybody was hot! You have to preform with us more!" The boys cheered following behind you, you turned around raising your eyebrows towards them "Hey! She's still my girl even if she had to dance with you" Seung Hyun reminded pulling you close "We have a small interview after this, do you want to start a shower for us?" He asked softly, pressing his lips against yours for a moment before changing into something more comfortable.

You did choose to stay back, letting the boys do their thing a few rooms away, the boys laughed as the interviewer started her next question "So! Top, Fans have seen your spicy video of you showing you're a taken man now, tell us, how did you come into contact with Model Y/n l/n?" He asked, Seung Hyun blushed brightly, Dae-sung proudly standing up "I've got this!! I'll be y/n!" He cheered before starting to spin making his way over to Seung Hyun, falling into his arm, Seung Hyun a mixture of blushing and giggles, catching his friend quickly, not wanting him to fall. "ooo You're hot!" He cheered in a high pitched voice, Seung Hyun laughed loudly shaking his head "That is not! What happened! You be me! I'll be Y/n! I'm around her the most" Seung Hyun protested, Dae-sung just laughed agreeing, the other boys laughing louder as Seung Hyun smiled giving Dae-Sung a flirty look through his eyelashes "Hi baby, I'm t.o.p" Dae-sung said, trying to mock his friend's voice, failing miserably "I'm y/n..sorry my friends are crazy and pushed me over" Seung Hyun explained, twirling his hair in his finger before laughing "and that's basically it" Ji-Yong smiled, knowing the two would continue joking if he didn't stop them, which is exactly what they did until you walked out, Seung Hyun shaking his chest gently against Dae-sung's arm laughing before making eye contact with you behind the camera. You covered your mouth, desperate not to make a sound, but you couldn't help it, seeing your boyfriend act so feminine was adorable and funny.

You like?

Taglist!!

@ag022123

@acehasmyheart

#thanos x reader #squid game thanos #squid game #squidgame #top x reader #choi su bong x reader #thanos squid game #t.o.p x reader #choi seunghyun #t.o.p

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ariadnes-elixirs · 23 hours ago

Text

thinking of an isekaied reader and a yandere noble boy...

(gn reader x male noble yandere)

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4

tw: manipulative behavior, thats about it though

you stared at the honeysuckles climbing alongside the fence near the outskirts of your family's garden. as you continue examining them, it occurs to you that they seem to take on a vine-like shape, wrapping and constricting the fence. in front of the vines there are two smaller shrubs, also presumably honeysuckles.

as you stand there awkwardly lost in thought, oliver begins speaking. he takes one step forward as his eyes shift between the shrub and the vines, "there are three types of honeysuckle: shrubs, bushes, and vines."

he takes a careful step between the two shrubs and strides towards the vines, reaching a gentle hand out and caressing a pale pink, almost white blossom in his fingers. "while their flowers are pretty, in some places they can be invasive. they can block out sunlight, making it impossible for other plants to grow."

he's standing in front of you, so it's hard to gauge his expression. his voice is calm and serene, almost reverent as he speaks about the flowers.

"the pale pink flowers on the vines are likely common honeysuckle vines. while the pink tubular flowers on the shrub indicate that those are likely tatarian honeysuckles."

he slowly turns away from the vines as your eyes focus on his hand caressing the flower. in one swift motion he uses his left hand to pluck it off the vine, then turns towards the shrub. he's still standing in the same spot, but as he turns you can finally see his face.

his expression is cold, almost apathetic as he looks at the flowers. with how he sounded you would have expected him to at least be smiling. his dark brown eyes quickly meet yours before he looks at the shrub. he crouches down, still holding the pale pink flower in his left hand. his right hand reaches out gently to a darker pink blossom belonging to the shrub.

"chances are, some gardener got careless and either decided to plant these because they didn't feel like planting something higher maintenance... or they simply," he rips the flower off, "didn't notice that an invasive flower slipped into the garden..."

as he holds the pale pink flower in his left hand and a dark pink flower in his right, he finally shifts his body to face you and meets your eyes. his expression shifts to a much softer one as he looks at you, "i don't know what happened to you, but what i do know is that you are definitely acting different."

your blood runs cold, surprised he decided to bring this up again. you stand there for a second, about to reply before he smiles gently at you, catching you off guard.

"i know you have been having trouble with your memory, my love." he says, "it just..."

"it makes me so sad when you look at me like that... like..." you notice his eyes look sad, almost like he's tearing up as he speaks, "when you look at me like you don't know who i am, or what we were, or how much i love you."

he moves his hands to yours, gently taking your left palm and bringing it between the two of you. then he slowly holds up the two flowers in each of his hands, "obviously this isn't your fault, but..." he pauses, "i don't want to make you hate me by going too far too fast."

"so, i wanted to ask," he moves the dark pink tatarian honeysuckle towards you, "do you wish to resume our relationship, as passionate yet secret lovers," he moves the pale pink common honeysuckle flower closer to you, "or do you want to start over, from the moment where i got down on my knees and told you how much i love you for the first time?"

he looks at you gently, waiting for you to take one of the flowers in your hand, "i don't want to overwhelm you, darling, but please..."

"i just can't live without your love any longer. please, love, even if you don't remember, won't you fall in love with me again?"

a/n: (this is the part where my indecisiveness starts showing)

anyways !! would you like to "resume the relationship", start over, or say no to both (secret option he's not gonna say but i will)

#red pill or blue pill?#nah we got light pink or dark pink flower here #the matrix at home be like #ariadne's writing - 🩷#ariadne's ocs - oliver northwood #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere x darling #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #male yandere #soft yandere

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halfmoonshines · 23 hours ago

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marc spector/steven grant/jake lockley x reader

summary: you loved all of your boys equally. most days.

or; they're all amazing in their own ways, but definitely have their strong suits.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

You were going to strangle Marc Spector, you were sure of it. You were also sure that Steven would forgive you, and Jake probably wouldn't bat an eye.

How many times had you told this man that you had a laundry basket for a reason? Fist of Vengeance or not, his socks still stunk and you were getting tired of padding around the apartment twice a week collecting them all.

You slammed the washer door shut a little too hard just as you heard the front door open and click shut.

"I'm home, love! They had a great deal on your favorite cream cheese at the shops." Steven's honey accent pierces the quiet of your anger and you immediately simmer; his sunny disposition a cold water on your raging fire. You had nearly forgotten that he was the one who went to the store.

"That's great." You said as you rounded the corner, a smile on your face.

Steven paused in his unloading the groceries, a furrow creasing his brow. "Are you alright, sweets? You look tense." He crossed the small kitchen over to you, hands settling lightly on your shoulders. Leave it to Steven to see the slightest bit of tension in you.

You have a loving eye roll, moving closer to wrap your own arms around him. "I'm okay, Steven. Just slightly peeved at Marc for being so messy."

His hold dropped to your waist and he rested his chin on top of your head, a mirthful chuckle rumbling out of his chest. "That he is, love. Right disgusting bugger. Shall we do something about him?"

"I thought you wouldn't take kindly to me choking him with the next dirty sock I find."

"I'm sure I can look the other way."

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

"You're being ungrateful, you need to actually listen to me-"

Conversations with your mother never went over well, but this time you were well tired of listening to it.

"I am not being ungrateful, Sharon. I'm being realistic. Don't call me again." You slammed the phone down with a force, shaking the glass of water you had perched on the dining table. You winced, knowing that smart phones weren't made to take that kind of beating but you were far past the point of caring.

She always knew how to rile you up; to upset you and make you feel guilty. You didn't even know why you bothered to pick up her calls anymore. Some sick sense of ownership.

The hands that turned you were warm and familiar, the chest that greeted you smelling of musk and pine.

"You want to talk about it?" Marc's voice made you wince. Steven was the one that left the house this morning, you hadn't been aware that they planned to switch. You hated talking about this stuff with Marc, knowing full well it never compared to the relationship he suffered with his own mother.

You gave a shake of your head and met his dark brown gaze. "It's fine, babe. Same old attitude."

Marc's smirk lacked the usual humor. He raised one of his hands to twirl a loose piece of your hair, tracing the movement with his eyes. "You know you don't have to bottle it up, right? How you feel is important. Don't ignore that just because I have my own issues."

Your eyebrows raised in surprise. "That's quite the self aware statement, Mr. Spector. I'm impressed."

Marc's smile morphed into that familiar one and he returned your earlier eye roll. "Don't deflect. I'm here if you want to talk."

You dropped your hand to his and started to pull him towards the kitchen. "We can talk while we cook. I'm starving."

"I can agree with that."

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

You were being followed, you were sure of it. You tried not to hasten your steps too much, knowing full well that the person who had been following you for the last six blocks would give chase.

You wouldn't escape them.

You and the boys had obviously gone through this kind of situation before. Being the fist of Khonshu didn't come with a fan club, but it certainly did build a repertoire of enemies. If they lived, that is.

Your breath was puffing out of you in clouds as you power walked down a road parallel to your own, debating the merits on showing this man where you lived on the off chance that Marc was home.

You could hear the footsteps behind you speed up and you returned it in kind, kicking into a slow jog - all pretense of being unaware going out the window.

You glanced over your shoulder to see the man approaching quickly, and that was the first mistake you made.

The second one was hesitating when another men stepped out of the shadows of a store front. You knocked into him firmly, breath escaping out of your chest while his harsh grip dug into your shoulders.

Oh, you were fucked.

The man who had been following you caught up to you then, hand clasping over your mouth to muffle the strangled scream you had attempted.

Those training sessions in the living room with Jake felt like a distant memory with the blood pumping through your veins. You kicked wildly at the man in front of you, managing to graze that sensitive bit between his legs.

"I'm going to enjoy this so much more now." The accent was Irish, but you were quickly distracted by the large knife he brought up to your throat.

You stopped thrashing, all too aware of the sharp tip of steel biting into the sensitive skin on your neck. A stray tear rolled out of your eye, fate becoming more concrete.

"Hurry it up, Joey. We don't have time to dally."

"Shut yer pipe-" The man holding the knives voice gurgled briefly before he collapsed on the ground in front of you, the tips of crescent moon shaped knives poking out of the front of his chest.

You found him instantly, half masked by the shadows on the street.

"Bloody fuck." The man holding you simply tightened his hold, one hand fisting in your hair and yanking your head back. The squeal you gave wasn't by choice but you could see the start that the suited man watching you gave. "Stay over there, white devil, or she will die with me. Do you hear-"

You almost didn't see it, the knife being thrown but it was embedded in the goon's throat before your next breath. He released you all at once and you fell forward from the force, gloved hands catching you before you could hit the pavement.

You were heaving breaths, vaguely aware that you were going into something akin to shock but unable to pull yourself out.

"Breathe, mi corazon. You need to take slow breaths." Jake's own hands were shaking almost imperceptibly, you could tell that he was struggling to keep a lid on his fury.

You dragged in a deep breath through your nose, forcing yourself to sit on it before exhaling. You folded into his embrace, fresh tears springing into your eyes. "I'm sorry."

Jake's scoff was almost offensive. "What the fuck are you sorry about?"

You gestured to yourself haphazardly. "Completely losing my shit the first time that something happens to me."

The suit disappeared then, his bare hand gripping your chin lightly, bringing your gaze to his. There was fire churning there, and you realized you mistook some of his anger. There was fear there too. For you, though. Never himself.

"Don't you ever apologize to me when there's," His hand lowered a bit, ghosting over the line of red that the knife had left on your throat. "Blood dripping down you. Blood that's my fault." You understood then, the hard clench of his jaw. "Mierda, babe. This could've ended so differently."

Your hand wraps around the his wrist, bringing it into your lap, willing him to look at you instead of the wound he was fixated on. "But it wasn't. Because you were here. I'm okay, Jake."

Something flashed in his eyes, and a cloud passed over his face. He was bottling it up, you could tell, but there wasn't much you could do about that right now. "Let's get you home."

You let him help you off the pavement, keeping a grounding hand on his arm. Jake hesitated a moment, question poised on his tongue.

"What is it?"

"Are you sure you're okay? If you want to talk it out, I can step back. It would probably be good to have someone to talk to-"

Your kiss was chaste, but served its purpose of shutting him up. "If I wanted to talk about it, I could do that with you, Jake. You don't need to go anywhere."

"You know I'm not very good at that-"

"You're perfect." You insisted. No room for arguments.

He smiled wryly, arm wrapping around your waist. "How about I run you a bath when we get home and we order some takeout. What are you hungry for?"

"Surprise me."

#marc spector #marc spector x f!reader #steven grant #steven grant x f!reader #jake lockley x f!reader #jake lockley #moon knight #mcu #my works #moon knight fanfiction

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astracora · 4 hours ago

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EVER's Tool

Characters: Poly!LADs x gn!mc (Sylus POV/MC POV)

Warnings: Hurt/No Comfort, Angst, Talk of EVER Experiments and Torture, Violence, Gore, Spoilers for multiple anecdotes and all current story.

Word Count: 10348

Written: 10th January 2025

Notes: Established-relationship with gn!MC with all LADs, with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in. Unnamed MC, but using my personal MC's basic appearance and adjusted backstory. I take some liberties with what the game offers me. A lil AU almost, set after cat curse and turning point. I had the mental image of EVER making MC into a personal weapon, using the fact their memories reset so it's easier to manipulate them. I also think about the line that 'sincere emotions are hard to forget', and how the LADs are basically EVER's worst problem when it comes to controlling them. As a side note, I fucking hated Leon when I read the anecdotes, so so much. The creepy way of calling a child 'little bomb' just set me wanting him smacked in the face. So I'm channelling that dislike into ruining his day. The way I screenshotted so many main story things to pull into this. It's upsetting... I had to double check so much stuff cause I have a terrible memory. My final lil note is I have no idea how MC's resonance works, but there was a line in one of the anecdotes that EVER wanted it to absorb Xavier's, so I've run with the concept.) I have no idea if anyone else will care about this lil brain thread, but hey, have at ye. Will there be more? Gods only know. Now I can finally sleep its 2am and my brain refused to let me rest.

Now Playing: Bite Marks, by League of Legends (ft TEYA)

Masterlist

Missing for months now… He's reached out to every source he can find. Has sent Mephisto all over Linkon, the N109 Zone, beyond.

He has looked in every shadow, every dark hole he can find. He has searched and searched, and still found no trace of you. He has never felt this powerless, this lost, to have all the resources of Onychinus and still unable to find answers to the only question he really cares to have answered.

How can you have disappeared? Vanished on him, on them, when you have built a life together? The house has emptied, the halls are quieter, the bedroom you all share is hard to sleep in.

It is like they have acquired ghosts. Griefs that will not rest, that cannot settle… because they have no answers. No response, no way to seek you out to soothe open wounds, and apply salve to scars.

He cannot stop, he cannot stop looking. He looked for you through time, and space, he will not stop now.

If you are out there, he will find you, and bring you back home. To them.

He did not vow and share his soul with you, to lose you.

He has spent most of his days looking, and searching. When he is not forcing himself to keep being Onychinus' leader, he barely sleeps for investigating. If he stops for a moment he thinks of an empty bed, and cold sheets. Of limbs no longer tangled with his. Of fingers no longer soothing through his hair.

Sylus cannot bring himself to tremble and to crumble, he does not have time. Not when the answer has fractured his home. His loved ones.

He watches Xavier hunt, carry out his job. Kill and fight. Mindless and driven, because he wants to protect the Linkon you cared about too. He wants to keep his blade busy, so that his mind does not wander. Then, Sylus knows he searches and he looks. Under rock, across desert, in the mountains. Everywhere his missions take him, he searches.

He comes home empty handed, and tired, but never seems to sleep properly anymore. Restless and unsettled, no matter how often someone soothes his hair and holds him. Xavier sits in the cycle that Sylus knows they cannot break.

He has tried to reach out to Rafayel, the fish beached and unbreathing. He sits in his art room and stares at paintings he cannot finish. Empty canvas and snapped paintbrushes. There are days, he tears them, dry sobs in his chest, eyes burning for tears he can't quite shed. He splatters paint up walls, and stares at what remains. His hands cut and torn from violent actions.

He finds no inspiration, and he ignores all of Thomas' calls, and he sits as the doctor tends to damaged skin, and clings to hands to keep himself grounded. Whispering things that he doesn't want them to hear. Fears of it being his fault. They can only respond with tight arms, and affirmation. It is not, they're sure. It is not.

He watches Zayne pick up more shifts than he should handle, only home when forced to be. Sinking into work, and sleeping in call rooms. When he does return, he waters plants you have left behind, feeds the cats outside the house that seek you out, and keeps your things neat. He traces trembling fingers over photo frames, looks through albums, and reminds himself. So he can stop mistaking every hunter he sees as you.

His sleep is more uneven, and he trembles awake with nightmares, hands reaching out for comfort, and clinging to chests to cry. To weep, to shake. He cannot find solace no matter where he looks, and Sylus can only offer presence and love because he does not know where the solace is found either.

His home is torn and hurting, and he cannot fix it. He will not stop trying to fix it.

He has to fix it.

It is a late night, ninety-two days after your disappearance, when Mephisto's feed flashes. He watches, and he waits, and he sees a flash of familiar white hair and jagged scar down your cheek, through your mouth.

His hand tremours in front of the screen, as he reaches out with tentative fingertips. As though he can reach through it, and pull you through…

His legs force him up before he can second guess himself, before he can waver on the edge of unsurity. Before he can hesitate to long to miss you. He calls the prince, and he leaves. On the first winds of hope, since you vanished.

—-----

The prince stands alert outside the building, while Sylus breaks in. It is old and condemned, the same kind of building that collapsed down around you. Landed you in hospital as they put you back together.

It is not a place he would normally spend his time at. Yet he trusted Mephisto's eyes better than he trusted most things.

The perks of a robotic bird, that he has upgraded even further after your disappearance. Desperate, though he isn't sure he can admit that. Not without falling to pieces, as he digs and he digs and he searches.

Sylus is quiet as he ascends floors, his mist drifting up walls and through broken door frames. Seeking and searching for the familiarity he can never mistake. No matter how many floors he climbs, he cannot feel you. Cannot seek out the sparks of gold he knows so well, and the soul that cannot complete without his. He finally approaches the final door, and pushes it open. An apartment in ruins, but the smell of acrid blood hits him. Familiar and cloying. It does not appeal to his sense, nor to his hunger.

He looks at the walls, where blood has splattered, across the floor where bloodstains mark it. There is a body, throat cut, arm torn partially off. It takes him a second to assure that it is not you, but it is a second too long. The fear drops his heart before he can pick it back and place it where you placed your own.

Approaching the body, he cares little for the blood on his hands as he rummages through pockets, inspecting the wounds. Another stab mark through the temples. A dagger, curved. Familiar. He's seen it before. Designed by the fish, for you to use, adjusted lightness for the metal of your arm. Replacing the trusty claymore he used to witness you swinging with abandon.

Cleaving through enemies.

Cleaving through him.

He presses his fingers against it, assuring himself that he is not seeing what he wishes to. It would not be the first time he has caught glimpses of you in shadows, in alleys and chased the ghast. It is never you, it is always a cut into an already fragile heart, and he rights himself quickly.

To keep moving forwards.

This, however, he is not mistaken about. So he takes photos, sends them to the fish to evaluate, to the prince to be on guard. That someone is here, with your dagger. If it is not you, it has been stolen from you.

He will greatly enjoy cleaving through whoever has taken something precious to you. To lay their dirty hands on something that is theirs. His home, his family.

Footsteps approach him, and he hears a song he knows is yours. The notes though, they are buried in dust. The tune is not familiar. Your feet shouldn't make that noise, your heart is too familiar to him to be mistaken. To be misheard.

He whirls as a knife flies past his head. Stabbing into the broken sofa behind him. Sinking into moulding fabric. Releasing a smell he wishes he hadn't experienced. It fills the air as you step forwards, twirling a dagger around your fingers like he knows you've seen him do.

Like he taught you when you poked fun at him, asked him how he made it move so smoothly.

'Is it a crime lord aesthetic thing?'

'You have quite an image of me.'

'Am I wrong?'

'You just haven't looked closely enough.'

You are a flash of light, and a chill. A ghostly vision against the dilapidated backdrop. The dagger is dripping blood with each spin, splattering it against the floor and against your clothes. Black and loose. Harness over shoulder and around your chest.

You look as you should, jagged scars and crooked lips, mismatched eyes, arm of meta-

His eyes halt and hold on your form, there is no metal. He looks at the twisted carapace of a wanderer. Segmented into a limb, and long clawed fingers. Sylus feels as though he is staring at his own limb, long ago. When his claws could cut through your flesh with ease, and he could not feel the heat of your skin properly through his own.

It is black and twisted and cracked. Like a well used tool.

It is not yours.

Yours was silver, painted by the fish, well worn and trusted. A tool as well as a part of you. A shield and a weapon in one.

It could trace his face gently, and swing a dagger with ease.

This is not yours.

The chill that you bring becomes ice down his back. It feels like the cut of a sword through his skin. Tears away at flesh and bone. Your eyes are empty, there is nothing in them but the glow of a gold he recognises. The resonance lurking under skin like a serpent waiting to strike. He levels his look on the dagger, and then back to your eyes. Seeking something out. Seeking you out.

You're in there, you have to be in there.

"Did you forget to check your phone, kitten?" He manages, but his voice is weak and cracked. He wants to grab you, to tell you it's fine, as long as you're safe now. He reaches out, and barely pulls his hand back quick enough before the dagger slices through where it was.

You tilt your head, then look down on the floor, "I was curious to know who sought out my target." The smile is crooked, it's wrong, it's twisted at the edges and broken. Like the horns he cut off years ago. "You're not on my list though."

It's a dismissive shrug, and a turn away. As though he is a stranger… as though he means nothing.

He barely holds the growl, though he is not angry, he advances on you, moving himself out of the way when your dagger darts out again. "Claws out kitten? Watch it, you could hurt someone." He manages, voice low, but pulling his tone to heel. He looks down at you. Reading at the empty gold glow, looking for something. Anything.

Disgust even, if there is disgust… you know of him.

There is nothing. Empty and cool. The abyss he should recognise but it is nothing he has seen before. Like you are missing. Like your body is empty.

You look back at him, unflinching, unbothered, watching him stare at you. It is the EVER symbol on your collar, he notices, it is like a brand against you. It is the flaming fury in his chest. It is not you.

It is them.

"Are you done?" You offer, stepping back out away from him, so he grabs your arm. The twisted skin against his flesh. Warm and pulsing under, but hard as stone. It is a painful thing to touch. It is not yours.

He looks at it, stares, and as he goes to speak, you tug it away from him. Spin, and kick him in the side.

The force makes him see stars for a moment, falling to knees. He gasps before he rights his body, before he forces adrenaline into his veins to catch the next kick you aim at him. The gold glitters under your skin, as you attack, and the leg he catches shakes his limbs. Throwing it away from him, as you spin and back away.

Sylus stands, and advances as you back up further, "That wasn't particularly nice, Kitten, we were having a chat."

"You shouldn't grab someone you don't know. It's impolite." You growl back, showing canines, and narrowing cool eyes at him.

Don't know.

He almost laughs.

He knows you, more than he knows himself. He knows you because you are part of him. He has lived with questions for who he is all of his life, has struggled to decide who he should be and who he is. You? You he knows.

He knows every piece of you, inside and out. He will always see you.

This is not you.

This is them.

"Then we should get to know each other." The words burn to say, and he reaches his hand out, ready to pull you to him. With skin, with mist. He cares little. He will capture you again, and he will make you wake up from whatever nightmare EVER have placed you in.

"I have orders, you're not part of them." You incline your head. He's used to a smile accompanying such an action, a tease, a lilt in your voice. Yet you are flat.

Then with the elbow of the wanderer's limb, you smash the window… and fall back.

He follows, on quicker feet than he has ever moved, melding into mist. Over the edge of the fall, watching you fall back. He has caught you so many times in his life. On the winds, with his wings, with his EVOL. He has followed you over the edge of many cliffs.

He will follow you over any others.

As he reaches out, you twist, hand on his wrist, pulling and turning, so that his back is to the impending floor. "You're determined." You snarl, actually snarl at him. His EVOL catches the dagger you aim for his chest, pushing it back, and he grabs your other arm, keeping the claws from closing around his throat.

You sink your teeth into his hand, biting down hard enough to draw blood, tearing at his flesh like he is a piece of meat you could devour.

The pain shoots up his arm, but it's not important. His wounds can heal, and while you can kill him, you have not levelled that fiend blade at his chest yet. Getting you back is all that matters, no matter the blood seeping down his wrist. You have bitten him before. You have come for him with daggers. You have shot him in the heart. Stabbed him through his joined heart. Cursed him.

Every drop of his blood that you bleed is another drop that belongs to you.

"Want to mark me that badly?" He laughs. He can only hope the prince has rested enough to hear the shattering glass. That he is still capable of hunting.

Your resonance bursts out of the wrist he holds in his mist, shattering it, and you kick, pulling away. Reaching out with claws to grab at the building. Grooves left behind you, as you slow your descent, he watches the gold shimmer again. Watches as the limb hardens further, claws thicker, digging deeper.

Spitting blood from your mouth, as you do.

He slows, balances himself. Without wings he cannot hover, can only slow his descent by a margin. His mist reaches out to yank you back. Into arms that cage around you, tighten around ribs he would normally be scared to break.

He holds, tight, and squeezes as much as he can. He feels you writhe, an angry cat held in a grip you do not want. Clawing and scratching. Willing to draw blood to escape. He feels the jagged claws of your hand grab at his wrist, digging into his flesh, tearing. Your EVOL bursts, and shatters, but it cannot shatter his bones, and he keeps the grip as you fall with him, as he ties you to gravity with him.

"Get off!" You growl, fury in your tone, and he's glad to finally see something from you. Some spark of who you are, even if it's angry and violent and vicious.

He sees a flash of light reflected off the glass of the buildings, and then he is caught and swiftly righted. Alongside a curse, and a huff.

Sylus turns to Xavier, who makes to speak before his eyes focus on you. Yowling and clawing. He reaches out a hand, only to have it knocked back by mist, "Don't. Your wounds don't heal like mine."

You snarl, "No, go on, let me slice you up." Claws flexing against the flesh you're serrating.

He'll heal. The pain is harsh, and burning. He's fought wanderers, but they don't have your mind. The knowledge of where to slice, the strength behind your anger.

"Starlight?" Xavier's voice does not waver often, he is used to seeing things that have hurt him. He has killed people who once followed him, he has fought those that were his loved ones. He has blood on his hands that burn to feel, but can never be washed off. Now, he wavers, watching someone who wears your face, but hisses and snarls to bite and snap. To cut and rip.

You kick back, into Sylus' shin. He avoids the second one, he knows is aimed to break his leg. Squeezes harder to creak your ribs. "EVER did something to them." He manages, using the mist to move the mark on your collar so Xavier can see it. He watches a jaw tick, the muscles jumping, blue starry eyes turn to ice, and focus on the point.

"We need to get them back." The prince approaches, and Sylus tightens his arms once more. If you have to be knocked out to get you back, well he can live with that. He's done it before. Hand around your throat, watching the life flickered in your eyes. Can your disgust hurt him more than the lack of any personal acknowledgement?

It is too soon for him to think, as you let out a snap of teeth at the prince, then smash your head back into his nose. The pain jolts up into his skull, so you reach your hand up, grab him by the hair and yank, then snap back one more time.

He's fought you before, he knows you. He knows you can beat him, he's been pinned by you in a test match before. Watching the glee in your eyes, seeing the fire at your victory. He has watched you practice swordsmanship with the prince. He has seen you cross daggers with the fish.

Everytime, you are cunning, you are ready to win. Everytime joy lights up your face if you succeed. Thrilled and happy to learn and improve. Crooked smile and bright eyes as you thank them for taking time for you to clash with.

It is not joy that lights your eyes, it's savage and it's gleaming. You do not extend your hand, or press a kiss to his cheek in your victory. You let him fall away from you, as blood sprays, and then you reach out with a clawed hand to rip at the prince's chest.

As soon as both have stumbled back, you turn, and you disappear.

Sylus' patience is strong. He has lived a long time, waiting, and living, and managing. It is when he has his prize so very close, that his desperation comes through. It was moments where he asked if you truly wanted him. Voice trembling and begging.

To touch, to taste, to hold, to seek pleasure with.

It was times when he had found you at last, growing impatient to feel your resonance against him. Moving too quickly, too desperately. Seeking memories locked behind a seal. Greedy for his beloved to look into his eyes and see someone worthy of flowers again.

It is the moments where he waits for your missions to end, and the message that you are returning, that he can no longer sit still.

It is when he saw your new home for the first time, a life built where he was not a monster, a family where he had nothing. Need bubbling to the surface to paint it in colours and fill it with song.

His patience has held until the last moment where relief is in sight. That it shatters, and it demands.

As he holds his bloody mangled arm, and spits blood on the floor, it breaks into shards. As he reaches out to Xavier, checking the wound, turning his face to check for others, he tears his already torn shirt to hold to the jagged claw marks.

As his fingers tremble and he shakes at where he is holding, he reaches for where his patience has gone and finds a small boy with broken horns. The absence of his calm, built on the back of his agony, lost to the fear and the doubt that circles his head.

It is the memory of the empty eyes, and the snarl that he can still hear in his head, the warm body in his hands, even though you had not been you.

You were finally so close, and now you are gone.

A hand tightens over his, the prince pulling his focus, and reaching up through the pain to ease tears that can't fall out of his eyes, "They're alive. We can find them again." He bites out, warming the chill in Sylus' hands, and waking him from the nightmare.

He will, and he'll melt every EVER building until he does. Rip the rot out by the roots, and become what Philos sneered at him for. A calamity.

Their evil is similar, afterall.

—------

He does not find any joy or relief in the information he brings back. As he watches the doctor stitch Xavier closed. Waving off his assistant. He eases the pain with his EVOL. Part of him wants to feel it, a reminder. You were there, he had you, and he let you go.

It does no one any good for him to be useless, or deeply wounded. So while the moon is still high, he repairs the damage, pushing his nose back into place. You'd told him it was beautiful, he hopes you still thought so when you returned. As the blood stops, and his wounds close, he leaves the room to shower.

The heat as high as it can go, to sear his flesh. It leaves his skin pink, as he finally turns the water off. Seeking out clothes that don't bear the ruins of your violence. When he returns to the living room, the prince's stitches are complete and bandaged, and the fish is looking at the photos he sent.

Before you tore at him like a beautiful and horrifying monster.

Had it been you, he would have welcomed your dagger and your claws.

He will not die to EVER's machinations. They will not make you their tool.

When he dies it will be because you have chosen willfully to cut through his chest and his joined heart. It will be your choice to sever your curse, and scatter his soul to the wind like the petals of deadly flowers.

Sylus eases himself into the sofa, leaning back and taking the fish's head into his lap with ease. Fingers finding purple locks and smoothing them out as they look at the photos.

He won't comment on Rafayel's feline-like purrs. He is too tired and worn. His heart hurts more than his arm did. "It was really them?"

"It was kitten, alright… Their body at least."

Zayne helps Xavier ease into a new shirt, cool hands sliding down sore skin, and turns his head to speak, "You think EVER are controlling them?"

The fish snorts, eyes narrowing, flames at his fingertips, "Is it surprising, after everything they've done?"

"That wasn't my question. Nothing they do at this point would surprise me, but controlling a person is…" The doctor flinches, and Sylus can see it. The image of you. Cold eyes, claws extended, tearing through Zayne's jugular. Blood splattering over your face, but you don't blink, or flinch. Simply move onto the next.

"Their eyes were empty, doctor. They didn't recognise or care when they saw me or the prince. They wanted to hurt us to escape… They didn't care how."

He finishes with the shirt and rubs at his forehead, trying to ease a headache that brews. It is better a headache, Sylus thinks, than him focusing on the aching pain in his chest. The fear of someone being broken by EVER. Experiments that defy morality. That twist and snap and destroy anything worthy of protecting.

That left him with twins, bearing scars. Inside and out. Who thought death would be an entertainment worthy of hunting for great prey.

That made you a child with a broken heart and a grandmother who didn't look close enough at what she did to you. Her morality flexible, because of your broken, twisted memory.

The doctor is a moral man, who believes in the power of medicine and science to save and protect the sanctity of life. That has rejected every offer for using his knowledge to twist that boundary. Who stares into the face of loss and believes dying in control of yourself, is better than living as a ghost or beast. Who has healed every wound you have held, and stitched up every injury.

Who nurses your heart, no matter how fragile it can be, or how much work it is.

What EVER stand for is so strongly opposed to the doctor, that Sylus can watch the tick in his jaw. The pain in his eyes. The tremble in his hands. The snowflakes drifting from fingertips, and the chill arching up his hands.

Rafayel removes himself from Sylus' lap, reaching over with heated hands and takes icy ones. Easing the cold back slowly, as the doctor fights for control over an EVOL that is soothed by you. It is a slower process with the fish, but it is worth it, as the chill recedes and the heat returns to the doctor's skin.

His trembling slows before it ceases, and he removes his glasses to rub his eyes, "Thank you."

The fish shrugs, sitting down next to him, ready just in case he is needed. Sylus looks down at his hand, flexing it in his lap, as he thinks about you taking his hand, pulling him forwards. No matter who he has been or will be, your hold has not wavered. It is his job to pull you back.

"We have a target." The prince exhales after downing a glass of water, looking over at him, and he nods, thinking. He can narrow down the search, look for traces, documents, records. EVER have always been simple to understand. Their methods are outdated to gain traitors, their experiments never stopped, no matter the state of the N109 Zone. No matter what destruction they left in their wake.

So he just has to find the thread back to you. While he has no intention of bloodying the doctor's hands, he has a fish who has killed those responsible for his people's suffering, a prince who has hunted any who dared raise a blade to you, and himself. A dragon whose treasure has been ripped out of his palms.

It is a foolish mortal that steals from a dragon.

—--------

Your return to their compound is slower after you've exercised that new EVOL you had been fed. It sticks in your maw, like a bitten on bone. It is uncomfortable, untrained, and aching. Your shoulder aches, your arm is covered in blood, and you need to clean your dagger.

The door swings open as you push through, slamming your fist on the wall to find the light. It brightens the room and you look down. Muscle and flesh in the grooves of your arm, sticking into the carapace. Stuck under segments. The feeling is a violent rejection. You rip the thing from you, throwing it across the room so that it smashes an unused lamp. Splattering some of the gore across the scientists whiteboard.

It is not really satisfaction at the viscera painting pristine EVER surfaces, but it is something. Or it is until a throat clears behind you.

"Little bomb, you should really behave yourself in the labs."

The feeling turns to biting fear, before you grab it by its throat and remind it. You do not fear foolish men. You do not cower to his slimy, disgusting voice. You do not run, or hide. You are not a child.

He is nothing.

You are a weapon.

"I don't recall you being the one I answer to, Leon."

You move through the room, seeking out the sink, and splashing water over blood on your clothes with one hand.

"Is the new attachment that unpleasant?" He points, indicating the weapon you had thrown. "If you want something better, we can provide it?"

The scoff isn't entirely in your control, but it does narrow the man's eyes, "You can't provide me much of worth Leon, don't act like you have any more power here than I do. It just needs cleaning. Drop it in a bucket. I'll care about it later."

"You're in a worse mood than normal, did you even carry out your orders?"

You round, dagger in hand and flick its tip under his soft throat, the tip pricking into skin, and bare canines, "When have I ever failed a job?"

He watches your hand, the dagger, then looks into cool, icy eyes. You can feel the resonance flickering, angry, uncontrolled. It is always harder to control some days. Like the sensations and the feelings are too hard to read, too uneven. You think about it failing when that man with white hair had you in his grasp. Refusing to help you break, to make yourself stronger. The panic of being held, the anger at being weak, the fury that breathed fire into your chest.

You do not know who he is, but you will slit his throat if he shows his face to you again. Tear his throat open with your teeth and drown in his blood.

"Kitten, tch." You hiss, pulling away from the scientist watching you with fear flickering in his gaze. "Starlight… What world do they belong to?" You spit at the floor, clearing more blood that still feels caught in your teeth.

"Seriously? Can you stop that?" Leon looks down at the blood now splattered on the floor, mixed with saliva.

"Clean it up if you're so unhappy. I'm going to clean this mess off me." You push past him, heading deeper into a compound that does not feel like anywhere you want to be.

"Stop, you have another order."

"Give it to me later."

"I'm here now, little bomb. You may as well listen."

It bubbles, it burns. You despise him, you don't really know why. You looked him in the eye when you opened yours for the first time and hatred and disgust and fear, embedded so deeply in your chest that you almost threw it up onto him. Leon greets you with his greying temples, and his sickening glimmer in his eyes as he stares at you, and he calls you little bomb.

It tears at your nerve and chews at your heel.

You want to tear his throat out, but you won't drink his blood. He is sullied, and disgusting…

But you have orders.

"What is it?"

"A doctor, he's wanted to do work here."

"Then offer him money, and immortality, I'm sure he'll jump at the chance." You spit again, this time aiming for Leon's shoes.

He rubs a hand over his face in response, looking at you like he is seconds away from locking you in a cage. You want him to try. The feeling is under your skin.

'Kitten'

'Starlight'

It simmers and burns and you want to cut and rip.

If he wants to try to tame your fury, he is welcome to try. To send you to one of EVER's toy boxes. To jolt you, and burn you, to remind you who holds the leash. Maybe the pain will shake out the feeling in the back of your gut. Maybe they'll put you in a ring, and watch you fight someone else like you. A tool, a weapon. Maybe you'll let someone pierce your chest for once. Spilling blood over the floor. Seeking escape in the splattered walls.

'Kitten'

'Starlight'

It lurches in your brain, words you don't remember, and irritation that has no place. "What on earth happened out there?" Leon finally asks, watching you wary. Good. Wary is good. Wary is careful.

"Your target had friends." You snap, dagger twirling around the skin of your hand, unbothered when it catches on fingers that don't move fast enough. The pain grounds you, washes out the voices, so you run a finger over the blade, and watch the scientist. He looks away from the blood and you almost have to laugh.

He can torture you, but he doesn't want to watch you bleed on his floor.

"Did you deal with them?"

"They weren't on my list."

"If they were there-"

This time you do nic his neck, dagger fast. His EVOL is worthless, pointless, and has no way to stop you. Not like the mist, not like it curling around your wrist like warm fingers.

"I follow my orders, Leon. They weren't on the list." His blood trickles down his neck and the scent is sour. So you push him away, turning and walking off, even though he protests, hand covering his throat, "Send me the name. I'll capture him."

The walk through the compound is full of people whose names you cannot remember, whose faces you see every time your feet carry you through halls. There are rarely new faces, a close iron grip held over tools in a grand scheme. The dagger twirls and twists, and you are given a wide berth.

Unicorn, Subject 001. It is an easy title to hold. Thanks to it hanging around your neck like a noose, you are unbothered by others. It is like you are a beast that they keep their chains around, but no one is willing to feed you from their hand.

They would rather throw flesh through the bars, and run away.

It is fear and disgust, you muse. As it should be. As if any of them are better than you.

It is bitter hatred that bites at your heels, that reminds you of every experiment, of every time waking up on a cold table, chest flayed as you are dug around in. Heart pressed and prodded.

It is your orders that keep you off that table. You are useful now. If you stay useful, you don't have to wake up in a cage.

It is the closest you can get to relief here, as though the sick doesn't swirl in your stomach still. There is no one to seek out for help, you are alone.

'Kitten'

'Starlight'

Your snarl is unbidden, and you shake your head like a cat trying to shake out fleas. As if that will shake out the ghost of voices, for fools who get in your way. Bright red molten eyes, tinged in glossy tears, and star blue constellations, gazing at you in wonder.

No one has looked at you like that.

The scientists have stared at you in greed, in hunger, with curiosity. But it is not wonder, it is hungry and cruel and brings pain.

You stomach and you move forwards.

These voices will fade, you will not see red and blue eyes again, and you will forget the curling mist.

As you enter the room you have been given to clean yourself up, the photo on the side stares back at you. A man you do not recognise, but whose name is etched into the frame. Caleb, your family… You do not remember him, your memories do not summon him. He has died, they've told you. Cut out of your life by people who stand against EVER.

Your home destroyed, so now you stay here. In a compound with cold walls… and a box of a room that cannot be filled because you own nothing. Except a photo frame you have been handed, and the clothes you are to wear when working.

You think you feel grief at the concept of not having him. You think that there are moments where something aches so deep in your chest that you can't find an answer to it. Like you are missing something integral. Seeking something out, but can never find it.

Sometimes in the shadows, when you enter and forget to turn on the lights, you think you see plushies along pillows… you have seen some with them on their desks. They are not for you though, you do not even know where you'd begin to find one.

There is a cold broken feeling in your chest, whenever you turn the lights on and they are gone. Just a mirage from a mind you think is fractured by the tests. You don't know what the feeling is, but it hurts, so you move onto another job, and move forwards.

You wonder if Caleb would look at you with disgust, to see no recognition in your eyes, to see you, with dagger in hand and blood splattered over your mouth and face.

Or was he like you? A tool to be used.

It is a question that has no answer, the dead don't speak. You will never find out. You will never have a voice answer you back, questions you speak out loud, when the room is too quiet and too cold.

So you scald your skin with heat in the shower, and burn away the remnants of the memories of voices calling out for you, and the pain. As the blood rushes down the shower drain, and leaves you as close to clean as you can get.

—------

Leon is cleaning up the blood when you return to the lab to pick up your arm, it is hours later, but he seems harried. Hair falling out from where he normally slicks it back.

You debate saying something, but decide against it, especially when you see that the gore has been scrubbed from your arm. A job you did not wish to have to handle. Even thinking about it, makes you think of the feeling of muscle under your claws. The hissed pain through clenched teeth. The arms pressing around your ribs, tight but wary. Like you would break under them.

You strap it back on, and spin the dagger in practiced claws in relief. No nics, no cuts. You don't remember who taught you, you never taught yourself. It eases you though, something familiar. A motion that is practiced and quick.

"You can get a better weapon than that, you know." Leon sighs, standing, relieved to be finished removing the mess you'd spread. So that he experiments could continue on. His finger points over at the dagger in your claw and you watch as he throws cloth into bucket.

The way he looks at the dagger makes your hand clench around it, slipping it back into its sheath at your side, and glaring, baring canines. It feels like an open wound. To be separated from it. Like it is as much a part of you as… your arm…

Itching in the back of your neck, a feeling of wrongness. It is not your arm.

Silver, and painted. A beautiful red fish swimming over metal.

You shake your head, pulling away from Leon before he can get his hands near you, or near the tool at your waist.

It is yours. It cannot be replaced. "It's killed enough of EVER's targets to be a fine weapon. Perhaps you should be replaced instead."

The bite does not agitate the man, but it does satisfy the little voice asking you to snap him. A little. There is no response but you are done with him, until a question gnaws.

Like a little beast at your heel. Demanding something.

You're not quite sure what.

"Why won't the doctor join you?" You ask, pushing some equipment to the side none too gently to sit on a table.

"Stop throwing things around, we need those." Leon snaps, "Your temper is too short, little bomb."

Your laugh holds no humour, it is a choke of a noise, that means nothing, "You call me that, and expect my fuse to be long? Unluckily for you, Leon, you are the only one who doesn't fear to talk to me. So you are to bring me orders, and answer my questions. If your things are in the way, that's not my problem."

He rubs the space between his eyes, and for a moment you get a flash. Forests, and snowflakes. Drifting through branches and alighting on white petals. Blending, and freezing, then falling.

Pushing his glasses back up, he speaks, "He doesn't agree with the tests we are running."

"You think capturing him will help?"

"I think capturing him will make him less likely to help, but surely the order came for a reason."

You scoff, but shrug, "Can't imagine what they could offer him, that means enough to make him agree. I suppose all of you science types have a price though. Something they can tug at to make you abandon your souls."

His voice is cold when he speaks, and you watch the spark of irritation. It's rare, he tries to keep his calm false mask, but sometimes. You can poke and prod. Like he is a beast you want to see bite. White hair ruffled and soaked as he laughs through-

You blink, and Leon returns to his bespectacled brown hair, and brown eyes. He speaks but you don't hear, and you push off the table, waving a hand, "Whatever." You don't want to hear it anyway, whatever he has to say won't remove the scalpel. Won't ease scars that don't disappear.

Won't mean you can lay down a clawed arm of beasts that they experiment on.

You're not too different you suppose, if you were maybe your arm would have rejected your body. Demanding something closer to home. Instead it follows your demands, moves smoothly, easily. You were told it was the ideal weapon and tool, and using it has certainly made missions easier.

It does not mean you wish to see it more than you have to.

Fabric catching on the segments of hard stone-like skin. Every sensation through it feels like it's felt underwater. Distant and abstract. A picture you can't fully see.

You step through the hallways, flexing the clawed hand carefully, as you approach the testing rooms. Inside is the usual, an old man with goggles on his head, greying brown hair. Wrinkles. He pushes the goggles up as he looks over at you, "Phi, I need my check." You approach.

His chuckle is low, and he eases you. There is something about him that is familiar, against all other backdrops of the compound. This man is familiar.

Sometimes if you stare at him for long enough, you can hear his voice telling you to stay calm.

You're not sure what it means, if he was there during your hazy wake-ups that you barely remember. Just the pain of the pressure on your heart.

"The Unicorn has wandered over finally. Come on then, you're weeks late." He indicates the black reclining chair beside him.

It normally grates at you, Unicorn. It is not a name, it is a subject title. You don't remember if you've ever been called anything else though. If any other name has ever mattered to you.

'Kitten'

'Starlight'

'Cutie'

'Darling'

They swirl and then you shake, like a dog shifting water from its coat. You will not drown to voices.

The chair is cold to the touch as you lie back, but Philip's hands are steady and careful. He checks over you, scans with his tools, checks your EVOL levels. "How are the new additions?" When he asks, you can actually hear concern. It's rare… it's not offered often. He is here just to manage your health, to track it. Leon is here as your keeper.

He proclaims that he knows you best. His little bomb. His reason to be in that lab. The core in your chest is his proudest test subject.

You think about the 'additions'. EVOL's fed into your resonance, powering it, making it more useful. You think about the pain, the snarling voice that wishes to devour and swallow. You would tremble at the sensation of the heat in your core. The ripping and tearing. The gold enveloping, and the rippling power that explodes outwards.

Broken glass and twisted shards of metal.

You think about how hard they are to control.

You think about fiery red eyes watching you as you fall, and the resonance failing to come to your hand at will.

You think about heat from skin like a memory you could grasp if you tried hard enough.

You think about when it finally answered you, so you could leave the call of snapping beasts at heels behind.

Questions left unanswered. Blissful ignorance, so your heart does not shatter. You don't want to know the origin of the fever or the broken splinters.

There is nothing on the other end of the thread.

"Temperamental." You finally answer, "They're harder to control than just my resonance is. I can't call them at will."

He nods, jotting things down, as he reads. As you look at his goggles, you see a leather jacket reflected in it, but when you turn there is nothing there.

Perhaps not sleeping is leaving you as useless a tool as Leon is.

A problem to solve later, when you can finally chase out broken parts of your brain, and swallow something to ease the screeching behind eyelids.

"You need to practice with them."

You huff, turning your head away, "I didn't need to practice with my resonance, what kind of tool can't be used straight away?"

When he doesn't answer, you return your gaze to him, watching as the man frowns. Staring at his tablet, like it holds news he does not want to see, but the tablet is empty. "Phi?"

He looks up, wavering eyes, and tired bags. He also does not sleep, you remember. You've never had it in you to ask why. If he's as haunted as you are. If this place keeps him from escaping his nightmares. You could ask, or you could dig for information… You do neither.

You always do neither.

"Your tests are fine, you should get some rest though, and make sure you take your medication. Leon said you've skipped it for two days now." He extends a hand with pills shaken out into them. Suppressants, for the core in your chest. To stabilise it.

You've taken them since waking up. They taste bitter, and they stick in your throat.

You grab them out of his hand, and throw them back. You feel like spitting them back up into his face, but manage to swallow them down, relieved when he has water prepared. You down the bottle, easing the sensation of the chalky taste, and run your tongue over your teeth to clear the residue.

It's no surprise to you that Leon would rat you out. Like he thinks he is your keeper. Like he owns your soul, and your body. Not just the warden responsible for your pain. The object of your abject hatred.

The cool of the seat starts to burn, so you pull up and step away. Shoving one hand into pockets, claw loose at your side. "Anything else?" The man asks, his expression becoming warmer, a smile loose on his worn lips. The familiar feeling sparks in your chest, and you wish you could ask.

Maybe if you ask you'd understand.

If you ask, you wake up from a nightmare, and you're not sure if the outside is better.

So you shake your head, "No, see you." and turn on a heel, leaving as quickly as you can. You can't thank him, you can never thank him. He is the only one who does not treat you like something to cut open for experiments, and you cannot thank him.

Because it is a low bar to clear?

Because you should not have to thank for that?

Because you blame him too?

You do not go to find food, though there is a cafeteria. You don't need to stay here. With the cold walls. Stared at by wary mad scientists.

You have a job, you can always do some research. Something that requires the movement of your feet, and the use of your brain. Something to distract from the feelings that bubble and overflow. That leave a lingering bitterness in your mouth like chalky medication.

That make you look over your shoulder, and not focus on the target.

It is an agitation you cannot shake out, so you have to focus it.

Your feet take you back to Leon's lab, but his lab coat is over the chair, as his tools are left behind. So you dig into his pockets, and pull out his wallet. Relieved to find cash, and not just card. You could figure it out, but it's always a pain.

Instead you take all the cash he has to hand, and leave, throwing his wallet back on the table.

If he wants to demand a punishment, he's free to. If you get results, he's less likely to get what he wants.

You want to watch him chafe under the pressure.

—------

Linkon is familiar in a way you aren't sure how to word. You've been told you lived here, that you lived with Caleb in a house in a nice little neighbourhood, before it was taken from you. You've walked to the area before, and while you sometimes can feel heat against your skin, you cannot quite bring the image to mind.

Like you're staring at a static tv screen. Sometimes there's a shape you think you can make out, but it could just be the broken image, flicking so fast you've fooled yourself.

It's like desperately grabbing at something, only for it to slip further under sand. One thing you do know, however, is that your feet travel before your brain focuses. That you pass by things called kitty cafes, and hesitate for a moment. Looking through glass, and wondering what it is you're seeing. You almost entered once, before dread settled somewhere in the pit of you. Pushing you back.

A warning.

So you simply look through the windows, to watch the small creatures and the floating OTTOs that tend to them.

It is enough. Perhaps.

The acknowledgement of something that you enjoy. Or think you enjoy. Perhaps you played with Caleb.

Before he was taken away from you.

Would he be able to remind you of things you have forgotten? Records of things you should know, photos of times you'd spent together? Would he be able to spark the image if he stood before you?

Your memory just a casualty of EVER's saving your life… It is a low price to pay, you've been told. That memory can sometimes be reclaimed. That your life cannot.

You cannot help but feel like a haunted ghost though. Sparks and flashes with abstracts and feelings you can't explain or name. Things that lurk along the edges but cannot be grasped. You have nothing for yourself, but the jobs you are given, and the titles you cannot shake.

Perhaps if you keep following the path, you'll find an answer at the end of it. Even though you want to turn from it. Run the opposite direction. Would the answer even make you happier? Or would it make the feelings worse?

Could Caleb really have cared about someone Leon calls little bomb? Could a tool be more than itself? Or were you both tools?

Perhaps it was easy to exist, because neither had anything else to claim.

If that were the case, you think you could accept it. At least then you would not be alone, surrounded by things that want to twist and snap and break and bend you. Make you into a weapon sharper than a dagger.

You still await the moment they pierce your skull with a sword, so you bear the horn of the beast, they're so proud of naming you after.

It is the smell of sweets that draws you to a cafe, and you are relieved that no one bothers to look at you for your arm. Though you have passed at least three people with panda costumes, so you think perhaps, this is a low scale of concern for Linkon residents.

As you enter, money in your pocket, you rattle off as many cakes as you can read, and afford with stolen cash, and then ask for a black coffee.

You pause, and then correct yourself. Cream, two sugars.

You can see it placed next to your head on a bedside table, you can hear a snort of disgust against your neck. You shiver, the sensation of lips on the back of your neck making you scratch at it with sharpened claws.

The blood that catches at the edges, makes your panic rise, but no one is looking at you. Couples too caught up with each other, groups laughing, and people alone working. Linkon, you decide, is an interesting but strange place.

At the compound you are stared at. Watched warily. There is no step you can take where you are not eyed, as though you could begin howling and snarling at a moment. You wonder if they fear you will turn into a wanderer. Will the core in your chest make you as horrifying a beast as the Myst's that EVER manipulate? Augmented protocores giving them powers beyond understanding?

It is an interesting thought. You hope if that happens, someone will silence you quickly. Lest you lose even the semblance of you that you have.

As you find your way to empty chairs, stuffing a macaron into your mouth, hunger tearing at your edges, you feel the aggravation and sensitivity calm somewhat. The itch easing, and the feelings leaving you be.

'Food is important, sweets can fill your heart as well as your stomach.'

The voice isn't familiar, it is a whisper on the edges. It does not bite at you though. The edges softened down, no longer sharp and broken. So you stuff more into your mouth, unconcerned with the world around you. Sating the beast that purrs as you feed it sugar.

As you finally stop starving your body, though you still refuse to let it sleep. Perhaps the confectionery will do for now.

With one hand you continue to claim sugary treats, while the other flicks through information Leon had sent you.

Zayne Li, cardiologist. Highly respected, has rejected offers of work over sixteen times.

You can't imagine why he'd suddenly decide to take up EVER's offer, if he has steadfastly rejected every time they had tried. Perhaps they finally had enough money for him. Money, equipment, a curiosity. It was always something that summoned the science types into EVER's hands.

They never fought or rejected for long. Denied enough opportunities, they would come running. Desperate.

Ice EVOL, uncontrolled, appears to create backlash when used.

Ice shards, tearing through skin, ripping into flesh, and rattling air from the chest. You choke on a sip of your drink, spitting the coffee on the table as you rub at your forehead. You can feel the cold on the tips of your fingers, and you aren't sure why.

It is not one of the EVOLs that was fed to you.

Just more static, things that don't belong to you, that won't stop haunting your vision. The lack of sleep has to be the reason.

Still, to have an EVOL you cannot control… That hurts you when you do. You think of the ones that aren't yours, that have been devoured by your resonance, and you rub at the space over your chest.

The core in your chest will eat anything it can grasp.

The file gives you his main location, Akso Hospital. Kidnapping a doctor from a hospital, would likely result in more mess than you want to deal with. You'll just have to follow him to somewhere else when he leaves.

Surely he has a home.

Why it's not in the file is a question you will have to ask Leon later. You'd expect them to give you more than minimal lines.

It is not as though you will fail… failing means tests. You think of isolation rooms. Of fighting people haunted, with protocore syndrome. That shatter when you fight back. You think of the agony in your limbs when they poke and prod.

You think of shocks, and scalpels. You think of what EVER means when they make you their tool. When you are their test subject.

You think of how, even if you run, they will always be able to find you.

You think of how pointless it is to fight back, when they break you down.

You think of their buildings in Linkon, office workers who mill about with their symbols on their chest.

You think of the news reports you hear, with their technology selling to everyone you pass.

It is an encompassing web, and you are barely a fly.

EVER have reminded you, that being a tool is better than breaking.

You're unsure if that's true, but you know that death never seems to save you. You have plunged your beloved dagger into your chest, trying to cleave the core out, but woken up on a table. Unsuccessful, reminded of your place.

You are hazy, if someone stops you, if you're always being watched that they can grasp you before. You wake up though, staring around you, and it continues. You continue. Dagger in hand, EVER's mark on your collar, and given orders.

It is as you lean back, finished with your bounty, sipping the last of your coffee, that the door swings open.

"I don't think now is the time to eat sweets."

"And I know you're not feeling great, when you can say that doc."

Static.

Like in that broken down apartment building. Staring at a man who looks like a ghost to you. Slowing your dagger long enough to look.

Crackling along the edges, filtering through your vision. Overlaying so many images against the other. It is noise and it is broken images.

It is a force of a wall you cannot break through.

You look, as two men enter. Tired, drawn eyes. One you know by the file in your hand.

The other, you know by the signs and posters.

Zayne Li and Rafayel Qí.

It is an easy thing to sit and watch as the one rubs at his eyes, and the other nudges him, hand easing strain from back.

They do not know you. No matter if they pick out the symbol on your collar, there are countless EVER employees, and your face is only known to the ones you're ordered to kill.

And now capture.

Still, your eyes want to move away. Looking at them hurts. The static is loud, and the feelings are back. An uncomfortable ripping at the fabric of what's inside you.

So you stand to leave, hoping you can pull away and come back another day. It is no use tracking a man when he has company, for all you know the artist is a bodyguard in his spare time.

Complications are not worth testing with.

It is the movement of your chair, and the way you stand, grasping at your chair to push it back in, that draws their gaze to you. It sends a chill down your spine, as they look.

As forest green eyes and burning pink and blue stare at you. Wavering.

You are hit with the static, louder now, pushing down on your head, trying to drown you. You want to cover your ears, but you can't. You can't stand out. You can't be odd. Not out here. Not more than you already are.

No one has looked, or cared. So you put one foot in front of the other, and it shatters the silence.

"Cutie?"

"Darling?"

It tears at the fabric, and it rips at the gauze. The open wound in your chest. You feel the ice though skin, the water in lungs. There is a sensation of falling, and an aching where you land.

They approach, and you wave off. Claw in the ground trying to right yourself, pull yourself together. Remember what you're supposed to do. Get out, leave. It doesn't matter if they remember your face… It won't matter when you knock out the doctor and take him back.

Even if the artist remembers you, EVER can cover it up.

They've never failed to do so before.

You just have to get out. To find your feet.

Why is there so much static?

Someone kneels by you, and a cold hand touches the claw digging into the ground. It cuts through the carapace, rips at the seams. You pull away, and it gives you enough shock to cut through, to give you a door. You back up, and shake your head, "I'm fine, sorry."

You don't look at teary eyes, or stop long enough to be grasped at, you don't want to know why they looked at you, or saw something.

You don't want the static.

You just have to get back, and do your job… Then shake out the voices who call out names that settle softer than Unicorn.

#zayne #zayne x reader #rafayel #rafayel x reader #xavier #xavier x reader #sylus #sylus x reader #love and deepspace #lnds #lads #wonder writes #lads x reader #Zayne lads #rafayel lads #Xavier lads #Sylus lads #lads x mc #poly!lads

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sadiecoocoo · 1 day ago

Text

Hazel, Sweet and Dynamic Chp. 5 - Arcane Fanfiction

Summary - While Viktor notices more and more things wrong with Jayce, their relationship reaches a climax

Word Count - 3,817

Full Word Count - 15,469

Read on Ao3

Previous Chapter

Chp. 1

Notes: I wrote half of this in one sitting you guys can live with the typos anyways I'm back in school and need to make the gay men suffer because of it so things will be getting SO MUCH WORSE

The two had held onto each other for what felt like an eternity. It was one Viktor would gladly spend with Jayce, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to delve into why he felt that way.

The only thing that convinced the two to separate was the toll of their physical needs. Both of their bad legs were begging them to move to a more comfortable position. That combined with the two’s growing hunger was enough to do the trick.

Viktor bid Jayce to lay down, to rest his eyes, while he fixed some food. Jayce clung to his arm when he stood, holding him in place for a solid five minutes before relenting and letting go. Viktor hadn’t said a word the entire time it happened, only placed his hand over Jayce’s and squeezed it.

They ate silently after Viktor brought the hastily made meal back to Jayce. It honestly felt suffocating. Viktor thought there was more he should say, something like “I’m sorry,” or “I shouldn’t have gotten mad,” but he couldn’t force the words out.

He honestly still felt like he was right. Viktor might always be bitter about the fact that Jayce still wanted to leave. If the other man’s occasional glances back towards the lab were any hint, he clearly still felt the urge to work on a way home.

Once Viktor had finished eating, he watched as Jayce only mindlessly picked at his food, pushing the chunks in the stew around with his spoon. Viktor was once again reminded by how much had truly changed.

There had been many days in the lab where Viktor had to be physically dragged away from his desk just so he could meet his basic needs. It would always be Jayce that finished his food first, though he still sat next to Viktor and silently made sure he finished as well.

Viktor was starting to hate everything that had changed. Why couldn’t they go back to that easy comradery that they had fallen into, that silent routine that brought them so much comfort and warmth?

“Viktor,” Jayce said, breaking him out of his stupor. He looked back at Jayce, who still looked like a kicked puppy. It made Viktor want to hug him again and this time never let go. “I-I can stop.” He continued quietly.

Viktor blinked once, twice. He furrowed his brow as Jayce nodded towards the lab, a silent explanation.

Oh. he was offering to give it all up. Just like that. It was what Viktor had wanted, but it brought a pit into his stomach. It would’ve made him lose his appetite if he hadn’t already finished eating.

“I-” He started, breaking off as he suddenly became very unsure of his words. Last time he managed to mess everything up, he didn’t want to repeat that so soon. He steeled himself for a decision that he would likely regret later, that would make him even more bitter with time.

“No, you deserve to go home.” He said, surprising the both of them. Jayce looked down contemplatively, then returned Viktor’s gaze with a confused expression, his mouth open as if to protest.

“This isn’t a world that we could be happy in for long,” Viktor could be happy, if he had Jayce with him. Being alone in this world seemed worse than death, but with Jayce it seemed like a paradise. “After everything that’s happened, we deserve to live an easy life with the people we love.” Jayce deserved it.

Jayce blinked at him for a moment, he looked lost on what to say. He looked down at the ground, picking at his food again before turning back to face Viktor. He smiled lightly.

“Thank you, Viktor.” He said, relief bleeding into his voice. Viktor nodded with a small hum, smiling back at him through his watering eyes.

After the incident, things went back to normal. Jayce noticeably stopped working in the lab as much. He went outside more often, insisting that he accompany Viktor on some of his expeditions.

The two of them were around the bridge now. Jayce looked over at its crumbling form as Viktor picked through a dumpster on the side of a dilapidated building. It probably would have held one of the luckier trenchers, being so close to the bridge.

Viktor found an old child’s toy that had a few gears and screws in it. It would be useful for whenever they got restless, but not for anything more than a bit of tinkering. He put it in the small sack Jayce had sewn anyway.

He turned back towards Jayce, who was leaning on his cane and staring out into the golden city. The shining bronze and pristine white were dull with age and had the same growths of arcane as the undercity did.

Viktor went up to his partner, his own cane clopping against the ground. It felt strange to be using it again, but after his fall and overextension of his bad leg, he found it more difficult to rest his weight on it without feeling sore quickly.

Jayce made him a cane when he had been out. He hadn’t said a word when he handed it to Viktor. Viktor had taken it solemnly and used it as necessary.

“Have you been across the bridge?” Jayce asked once Viktor stopped beside him. Viktor followed Jayce’s gaze. From the bridge, it was a straight shot to the hexgates. If it weren’t for the decay and crumbling of the buildings, it would have been fairly easy for them to go all the way to the top.

“No,” Viktor responded with a sigh. “It never felt right to go without you.” He added. For some reason, he almost felt guilty about it, like he was pushing an obligation onto Jayce.

Jayce sighed and Viktor turned to look at him. The man seemed to have permanent bruises under his eyes, sleeping coming to him less and less as the days went by. His mouth was set in the frown that Viktor noticed more often.

Viktor felt as though they were about to have a conversation. The kind where everything either went horribly wrong or surprisingly right. The kind where one of them broke down into tears for one reason or another.

Instead, Jayce turned his back to the golden city. He limped back towards their humble home, his own cane causing an echo that bounced through the alleyways.

A marionette turned its head to follow him as he passed.

Viktor and Jayce sat around the fireplace. They had managed to find some wood that would be suitable enough to start a fire. With the lightbulb having finally gone out, and little hope of finding another one that wasn’t completely broken, this was the next best thing.

They sat close to one another, with the blanket around both of their shoulders. It reminded Viktor of those first few days they spent in this world. The two of them had been near inseparable, curling up together at any chance they got.

He wasn’t sure when the change happened, when things got so tense between them. Maybe it was just Jayce having finally realized that he was near cuddling with a murderer who had nearly caused a genocide. He hoped that Jayce hadn’t realized that, or that if he did he didn’t care. He hoped it had been something else.

Jayce had still only been picking at his food, taking meager bites and scrunching up his nose whenever he did. It looked like a genuine struggle to swallow it down. It was worrying Viktor. The days were getting colder and the nights were getting even worse, he needed to eat.

“Is the food not to your tastes?” Viktor asked, because this time he was the one to cook and he had no qualms about guilt tripping his partner into eating. He knew he wasn’t a better cook than Jayce, so it was very likely that he had just happened to mess it up and that was why Jayce was struggling to keep it down.

Jayce let out a huff, a small smile gracing his lips. Those were becoming rarer, Viktor realized. He blamed it on the weather. Jayce had always had a strenuous relationship with the cold, for good reason. Viktor couldn’t imagine how much worse it must be when they were living in these conditions.

Abruptly, Jayce started to cough. They were small huffs at first as he scrunched his nose. Then he started coughing into his fist and trying to clear his throat.

For a moment, Viktor stared. It felt strange being on the other side of something like this. It felt like he was watching himself from another’s eyes. He wondered how long it had taken others to notice that he had been truly sick.

With a blink, he broke out of his stupor. He grabbed the mug of still warm water and handed it to Jayce when he reached for it. The other man seemed to down it in one go, setting it down next to him with a strained exhale.

“Sorry,” Jayce muttered, “must’ve been a tickle in my throat.” He shrugged, looking at Viktor sheepishly.

Viktor looked down at his food before answering.

“It’s alright.” He said softly.

Viktor was sitting at the table, writing in the small notebook he had found around a week ago. It had a couple of pages already filled with various drawings. He had finally given Jayce something to do other than research that wasn’t needed to survive.

He had seemed happier, being able to draw little things. Viktor had even caught Jayce drawing him a couple of times, much to his surprise. It was flattering, and made his chest ache in ways he couldn’t explain.

Viktor enjoyed writing as well, little things like observations of their environment or a few poems. He had banned Jayce from reading those, and in turn promised not to snoop on his private works as well. Though, the urge was still there, and he knew Jayce felt a similar way.

Viktor had been writing down his observations of a plant he had found when their refound peace was broken again. The plant had the same arcane corruption on it, much like the plants he had experimented on with the hexcore. It was scary to think that the device still had so much influence on this place.

Viktor had been writing when he heard something shatter in the kitchen. When he heard the hitching of breath and something falling with a thud.

He sat there a moment, blinking into the doorway that led into the kitchen. Jayce had been making them lunch.

He hurried into the kitchen, practically tripping over his own two feet before steadying himself in the doorway. His breathing was ragged with panic.

Jayce sat against the cabinets next to the stove, shaking and breathing hard. There was a shattered plate next to him, along with scattered ingredients that had fallen with it.

“Jayce!” Viktor exclaimed before rushing over to him and crouching down in front of him. He didn’t react to the call, only sat there, shuddering with each ragged breath. He wasn’t looking at him, more through him, with glazed eyes.

Viktor placed a hand on his shoulder, making the man flinch and let out a sound akin to a whimper. He moved back, terrified of making things worse. He had no idea what he was even supposed to do. He’d never dealt with something like this before.

“Jayce, please, can you hear me?” he asked softly, looking for some kind of recognition. He couldn’t help if Jayce didn’t talk to him and he couldn’t stand not being able to help. He couldn’t just sit there while his partner was shaking on the floor and unresponsive.

He tried several more times to get Jayce’s attention. They all had similar results. The only difference was that Jayce had started to curl in on himself even more, with his hand digging into his hair and his knees pulled to his chest in a way that Viktor knew made his leg twinge.

It was then that Viktor noticed the blood on Jayce’s wrist. The way it was shaking so much more fiercely than the rest of him. Viktor blinked several times, then glanced over to the broken plate.

Blood was on the edges of some of the shards as well.

He turned back to analyze Jayce’s wrist. It was the same that once held his beloved rune, the rune that an older version of Viktor had gifted him to help him discover his dream. It was the rune that had been embedded into his skin and later ripped out when he gave it to Viktor and fulfilled his promise.

During the time that different worries and theories flooded through Viktor’s head, Jayce’s breathing started to get steadier. He was looking at Viktor now, looking as the other man stared dagger at his bleeding wrist. Looking at the blatant concern making his brow furrow.

“Vik?” He asked hoarsely, breaking the other man out of his stupor.

Viktor visibly flinched, but quickly recovered. He sat there with his arms outstretched for a moment, wondering if he still shouldn’t touch. The urge to hug Jayce was so perilously great. It was another foreign feeling that he wasn’t sure whether to loathe or accept.

Before he could make up his mind, Jayce grabbed his wrists and pulled him against his chest. Viktor gasped quietly, sucking in a breath. He placed his hands on Jayce’s shoulders and gripped them firmly.

“Wh-what happened?” He asked, somehow sounding worse than Jayce. He grasped Jayce’s shoulder in a death grip, like if he even thought of letting go, the other man would dissolve through his fingertips.

“I’m okay,” Jayce reassured. And how cruel was Viktor to be the one in need of reassurance? “Just-” He broke off, not yet ready to speak.

Viktor was torn between forcing it out of Jayce, of finding a way to make sure whatever just happened would never happen again, and giving him the time he needed. He bit his lips to keep his endless questions from flowing.

For a long time they remained silent. Jayce’s breathing became shallower and calmer, smooth like the morning shore. All the while Viktor had never felt so high-strung. Viktor was walking on a tight-rope, so precariously that the faintest gust of wind would make him fall.

The wind blew, and he couldn’t resist leaving himself with so many questions. He was a scientist, after all.

“What happened?” He asked again, forcefully this time. He felt Jayce’s shoulders tense, he felt the way Jayce’s jaw set firmly and his chest stuttered with another hiccuping breath. Viktor pulled away to look him in the eyes, though he kept his hands on Jayce’s shoulders.

“It just-” he tried again, pausing a moment before he fully regained his voice, “happens, sometimes.” He forced out, the words biting like a snake.

“What does?” Viktor interrogated. He felt more and more uneasy with each breath. He squeezed Jayce’s shoulders, his fingernails digging into the fabric of his shirt.

“Sometimes I’m reminded of the bad things that happened and I just shut off, I don’t know.” He snapped, not looking Viktor in the eyes. The other man could see them anyway, how they were red-rimmed and still a little hazy.

“What set it off?”

“The smell.” he muttered, nodding towards one of the newt he had been chopping up to cook.

Viktor wrinkled his nose as he looked at its bloodied form. If he really paid attention, he could smell rot. The thing had gone bad, it had probably been stuffed in the back of their small pantry.

Viktor felt a pang of sorrow strike his gut. He let go of Jayce’s shoulders.

In a way, Viktor was still the cause for Jayce’s grief. Perhaps if he had never left in the first place, Jayce would have had no reason to go to the hexgates. And was it not him that left Jayce in that cave to rot for so long? Was it not him that had in some way caused all of their problems?

Neither of the two men looked at each other. Eventually, Jayce stood and went into the living room. Viktor soon heard the ruffling of covers as Jayce decided to rest early.

Viktor threw out the rotten newt, and any others that he suspected.

It was the middle of the night. Neither of them were sleeping, though they were both lying down on their shitty mattress, holding each other tightly. VIktor didn’t think that Jayce had slept the entire half day he had been laying in bed. Viktor couldn’t fault him for it.

There was something dark unfurling in Jayce’s mind. Viktor could practically see it emerging in real time. He ate less. He worked less. He even slept less now. It was all too similar to his own experiences for Viktor to not be at peace as well.

Something was in his own mind too. Something that whispered and taunted and told him to leave Jayce be. It told him that this kind, loving, beautiful man was not meant for him. It told him that he was infecting Jayce with his darkness and would continue to do so until one of them died.

He closed his eyes, willing the darkness away. It would not leave, no matter how far he pushed it away. It was always at the edge of his mind, rearing its head when he was at his weakest.

He had never felt so weak as he did now.

He was accustomed to being weak, to not being able to do things everyone else could. He was used to the days he couldn’t stand without falling, to the days he couldn’t even make himself get out of bed because the pain was so great.

He was not accustomed to being useless. To having to sit back and watch as someone he loved so dearly rotted away. He was not used to having to observe from a distance, where the only thing he could do was place a hand on his shoulder, or give him a hug once the worst of an episode was over. It all felt worthless in the long run.

Was this what Jayce had dealt with when Viktor had been dying? Had he felt as useless as Viktor did now? Did he cry and pray and beg t whatever higher being existed that things would not end this way? That he would still be given a second chance?

They both had been given what felt like a million chances, each they somehow messed up worse than the last.

The first second chance must have been when they first proved Hextech’s worth. How he longed to go back to those first days. To the time when Viktor’s illness was far enough away that he could live in the moment. He longed to go back to something as simple as the Innovator's Competition.

They would never be given another simple life like that again. And it was all his fault.

“What are you thinking about?” Jayce asked, cutting into the agonizing silence. It felt like he had just broken some kind of rule. Whenever they had both been stuck awake they only lied there in silence.

“Why don’t you hate me?” He blurted. He didn’t know the words were on his tongue. Nevertheless, they pushed their way past his lips.

“How could I?” Jayce whispered back.

“I’ve ruined everything. I killed so many people. I left you in a cave for weeks. I’ve been so cruel to you while we’ve been here.” Viktor said, listing every transgression he could in the moment. There were so many more. There were endless reasons for Jayce to hate him, to throw him away like the sump rat he was.

“All I do is make mistakes.” He finished weakly. He looked down at the pillow his head was against. He could not meet Jayce’s eyes at this moment, he couldn’t.

“The times I’ve spent with you have been the best times of my life, Viktor.” Jayce started, his voice so achingly soft. Viktor silently begged him to stop talking.

“The nights spent working in the lab when we could barely talk without sounding like we were high, one of those nights had been the first time I had heard you really laugh. I thought it was the most beautiful sound.” Jayce paused as he let out a small sigh. “Those few times I convinced you to go to brunch with me and you got the most obscenely sweet thing you could find,” stop, stop, stop Jayce had to stop!

“That first time I got you to go to one of those stupid galas with me, and you wore the most stunning suit. It was the dark purple one, almost black, with all the gold accents. All I could think about was that it would have been perfect if you had some Talis red on you.” Viktor closed his eyes tightly. He sucked in a breath.

“The first night we met,” Jayce gently wiped a tear that had snuck its way down Viktor’s cheek, “When you convinced me to fight for my dream with every tooth and nail.” He rubbed his thumb along Viktor’s cheek bone. He couldn’t keep his eyes shut any longer.

Viktor stared into Jayce’s hazel eyes. The eyes that were so sweet, and beautiful, and made him feel loved even though he deserved all the hate that the world could throw at him. His breath hitched, and it suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe at all.

“When you gave me a reason to live.” Jayce finished quietly. It felt like he was saying a vow. Viktor didn’t think he had ever seen the man wear such a bright smile. After days of nothing but small smirks that looked like he was being held at gunpoint, Viktor felt like he was staring at the galaxy itself. He was suddenly surrounded by so much color once again. And once again, the hazel stood out the brightest.

“What are we?” Viktor asked, because it had been eating him alive for the past few months that they had been entirely alone together, and if he had to wonder for another minute he would be devoured.

“Does it matter?” Jayce asked with a huff, “We’re together. I love you.”

Viktor cried then, fully cried. He felt tears track down his cheeks and snot dribble down his nose. He must have been disgusting. He must have been disgusting, but Jayce leaned in anyway.

He was horrible, and worthless, and was the reason everything had gone wrong. But Jayce still pressed his lips to Viktor’s and muttered a million promises that he would stay with him forever.

End Notes: kiss kiss smooch time <3 I'm gonna be real I do not enjoy writing kiss scenes and I cannot write smut so you guys get abstract kisses where your dirty little minds can wander whereever they want to go (or you can be really cutesy with it and give them cuddle time) anyways, things will still be getting worse and I've thought of a bad ending to give them so… (maybe it'll be a grey area ending tho I have a few different ideas) also I'm gonna guess that there are about 2 more chapters left (always subject to change) so yeah :) also fun fact I was debating making this chapter the last one and then I realized that I left so many plot holes and I still wanted them suffer I love you guys so much and you guys please manifest a snow day on friday the weather says it'll snow but my school system is borderline abusive and might not give us a snow day so let's all use the magic of friendship and summon it together!!! (If I sound insane it's because I'm horribly sleep deprived because my sleep schedule is majorly fucked :D) anyways, thx for reading! I always appreciate comments and try to reply to as many as I can <3

#arcane #jayvik #jayce talis #viktor arcane #whump writing #whump #hurt/comfort #post canon #fluff

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