#I need to draw it more cause I love that brand of horror

[cerulean-crow]

Posting this old wip so maybe I’ll have insensitive to actually finish it

girl got a big eel friend wish that were me

[severussnapemylove]

Sometimes I wonder if JKR even realises she wrote Snape as a victim of sexual assault. Because he unambiguously is, and she writes him as traumatised by the incident. So it seems mad to suggest that she might not have thought through the implications of her own writing, but if she did get it, I am baffled by how sympathetic she remains to James. Harry is never really made to confront how vile his actions were, because he looks for comfort from Remus and Sirius rather than telling Hermione who would react in horror and disgust, and he gets to skip over it completely in The Prince’s Tale. JKR clearly considers James a hero, and has confirmed that in interviews. She’s even more sympathetic to Lily, who is portrayed as an absolute paragon of goodness, morality and virtue, despite her being attracted enough to James *after* he publicly commits sexual assault on a less privileged kid to marry him! What a malfunctioning moral compass. JKR also has no sympathy at all for Tom Riddle Sr, who is a victim of rape, and his rapist Merope Gaunt, who is herself strongly implied to be a victim of incestual abuse, is condemned by Dumbledore and the narrative not for what she did to Tom but for not being as courageous as nice, pretty, middle class Lily Evans because Merope committed the crime of…dying in childbirth. The only conclusions I can draw from this is that JKR is the sort of ´feminist’ who doesn’t believe men can be the victims of sexual crimes, and that deep down she thinks being a member of the underclass who can’t drag themselves out of it alone is indicative of moral failure.

This! All of this!

I don't think she puts it together at all. She's incredibly tone deaf about a lot of the abuse she puts these characters through. And with the blasé attitude she has about male victims of SA in the books definitely goes along her brand of toxic radical "feminism". It looks like she just doesn't recognise the severity of what happens to these characters. On top of Severus's attack and Tom Riddle Sr, remember that Ron was roofied with love spell that was intended for Harry, and Moaning Myrtle is incredible predatory towards the boys. Sadly, this attitude carries over from the author to a chunk of the fandom too. I've seen so much dismissiveness of the assaults against the male characters, especially Severus. And it's even more disappointing when I see people who have experienced abuse saying that what Severus endured "didn't count" as abuse. Had someone today on another platform having an absolute meltdown at me, saying that what happened in SWM wasn't sa, and that he wasn't traumatised from his abuse and if his anger was caused by trauma then why wasn't Harry the same. Seriously, you can't tell another person that what they experienced wasn't "bad enough to be abuse", that's a very warped mentality. Survivors are supposed to support each other, not belittle each other's trauma. Also, what book did they read that they think Harry doesn't have issues from the life he endured? He has different issues than Severus, yes, because he had different life experiences and everyone's reactions to trauma are different.

"Merope Riddle chose death in spite of a son who needed her, but do not judge her too harshly, Harry. She was greatly weakened by long suffering and she never had your mother's courage."

WTF is this!!!??? This is just plain victim blaming. "Your mothers' courage"? Lily had supportive, loving parents, was loved by her peers, admired by her teachers, had a very comfortable, secure life. Merope was physically and mentally abused for her whole life. They really criticized the poverty stricken, abuse victim for not being as "strong" as the Mary Sue of the Wizarding World??? Toxic as hell. Personally, as someone who has dealt with self-harm, mental illness and generational trauma in my family, this attitude of "they weren't strong enough" is nauseating and infuriating.

There really is a disturbing trend of extreme poverty equalling a dead-end life with no hope. Which is again an extremally toxic and judgmental attitude and a very dangerous message to put in a book aimed to children. The attitude towards abuse, poverty and indecent assault of men is beyond problematic, not only in the books but in far too many members of the fandom.

I could rant more but this will go on for pages.

[churchofthpl]

an elaboration of sorts

(this one doesn't rhyme;

most of them don't, but

the one before the last one did

and that's the one that this one

is a sort of extension of)

i see them in everything,

and i could talk about it for hours.

my list of examples is endless.

some of them have cool stories;

some of them don't, but

they still have a place of utmost importance

in my heart.

here are ten of them.

one; she is that feeling i got when i listened to the safety dance by men without hats for the first time. i was twelve years old. i'd been a fan of the ramones for a while, i was getting into other bands in their scene, i knew punk rock, i knew what it was like to be heard by music. the safety dance was different; it was like my future self was being heard. a future self in which i was happier and i had more freedom than i did aged twelve and i felt free to love and be loved back.

two; he is the mural of a swan on the side of my dream college. when i went for an initial visit - the same visit that caused me to apply before even leaving the building - i arrived twenty minutes early to my show-around, so i was stood outside. in front of the main entrance is a huge painting of a swan. i remember sitting on one of the benches opposite it and just looking over every detail and admiring the effort that went into it. i am working my ass off to get my grades up so i can go to that college.

three; they are the first pair of earrings i ever got. i got my earlobes pierced at claire's when i was six years old. they were tiny studs with aqua-coloured gems on them. they lasted a little over a year before seven-year-old cecile took them out. they were really pretty. i still have them somewhere.

four; she is the rocky horror picture show poster on my wall. it's "camp", thank you very much, though my cat seems to be afraid of it.

five; he is the folder of drawings i did as a child. the last time i saw my dad, i was twelve years old, and the last gift he ever gave me was a folder of every piece of art i did as a child that he kept. my best friend at the time joked that i should burn them. i thought about it, very briefly - i kept them. i kept them until i moved out of the apartment. they got lost in the moving, as did a lot of things, because my apartment was cleared out entirely only a couple of weeks after my mom's passing, so there were a lot of things i wasn't in the headspace to remember to take. i never got around looked through the folder.

six; they are the storm that england got a couple of weeks ago. there were tornado warnings in towns only a couple of cities over from me, and though i didn't say anything because it felt silly, i was terrified. the winds were so loud i could hardly hear myself breathe, and the rain was flooding my garden. i stood in my porch and recorded it, deciding that joking about it would calm my nerves a little. (they were there when i sent these recordings to a group chat.)

seven; she is the pair of scissors that were used when i got my first masculine haircut. i was at a point where i didn't know if i was a transgender boy or a butch. it's funny to look back on, because between then and now, i have gone through 'phases' and experiments with my gender and presentation, i have identified as multiple things, and i am back here, now, yet again not sure if i am ftm or a butch.

eight; he is the first muji pen i ever bought. it was a lifechanger. i need to go out and buy some more soon - i wonder if ryman is open on a sunday? they're my favourite brand of pen to use. almost all of my poems that are in notebooks have been in muji pens. all of my handwritten essays have been in muji pens that had the labels ripped off by the invigilators (you know, just in case i printed the answers in japanese onto a pen label and stuck it on the pen).

nine; they are the copy of gloom that i stole from my old group counsellor's office back when i first got transferred to my current school. i only did it because i thought the box looked cool and i was a bit of a kleptomaniac. he never asked for it back. since then, i've taught myself to play, and gloom is my favourite card game of all time.

ten; she is - above all else, i suppose - the first thing i smile about every morning. no, seriously. that's not even me being sappy. i check my phone first thing every morning, and she's always the first notification i read.

[uwusenpaiuwu]

Baji Being A Menace To Society (And Your Relationship) 2.0

Sequel to: Baji A.K.A. The Worst (Best) Matchmaker

Summary: Baji’s at it again, acting out-of-pocket and creating chaos for absolutely no reason, other than to see you suffer. In his own Baji-esque way, of course.

Pairing: Sano Manjiro | Mikey x Male Reader

Warning(s): Boku no Pico is mentioned, but there is absolutely nothing graphic; mentions of masturbation

Note(s): I am so sorry if it isn’t funny. Sadly, I am but an amateur writer, not a comedian. Still, I hope you all enjoy! ^^

"(Y/n), want some ice cream? My treat."

Usually, you'd be the first to jump at an offer for a sweet treat, especially when you don't have to pay. However, as of now, the word 'ice cream,' when said by Baji, instantly triggers your fight-or flight-response. Paired with the fact that he’s broke as hell, your suspicions only increase for the sudden indulgence.

Since you know you're no match for the long-haired menace, your body automatically prepares to flee, legs twitching to lurch into a sprint. Unfortunately for you, just before you can get the fuck out of there, your hand is being grabbed by Mikey, who leisurely begins to tug you along to claim your dessert.

“You like ice cream, right?” he turns to ask, eyes unbelievably soft when looking at you.

And because you’re weak for him, all you can do is nod stiffly, trading in your sanity for the pleased grin that spreads across his face, his confident strides thereafter likely a result of him successfully remembering another miscellaneous fact about you, as has been the case since you officially started dating him. From the most trivial of things, like which brand of pens and pencils you prefer, to the slightly more important stuff, like ice cream being one of your favorite desserts; he’s made the effort of remembering them all.

He really doesn’t need to do any of that, ‘cause you’ll love him either way, but the conscious decision to do so is what makes you love him even more.

Zoning back into reality, you shake your head to reorient yourself. It isn’t the time to be going over the reasons why you’re such a lovesick puppy.

No, there are other things to worry about, mainly Baji.

You squeeze Mikey’s hand as you’re led to the nearest ice cream parlor to try and calm yourself. It works for the most part, especially when you get a reassuring squeeze back.

‘Right,’ you tell yourself, ‘it’s going to be okay.’

After all, Baji wouldn’t do anything too drastic, right?

~~~

You were wrong. So, so wrong.

Despite nothing having transpired yet, every alarm in your head is going off, pounding at the door of reason to get you to wake up and realize that it’s Baji you’re talking about, the same person that sets cars on fire when hungry and punches the first unfortunate soul he passes by on the street when sleepy.

You really should’ve listened to your survival instincts and ran. Alas, it’s much too late to escape, leaving you to wallow in your anxiety, while you wait for misfortune to strike.

And strike it does.

“Please, don’t sit next to me. You make me nauseous.”

“That’s cruel. I bought you ice cream, and you treat me like this?”

Yeah, he may have bought it, but you refuse to eat it because of how intensely Baji is staring at you. Fucking weirdo.

"Oh, do you want some of mine instead, (Y/n)?" Baji accentuates his question with a sensual lick to his ice cream from the edge of the cone to the finessed peak, making you extremely uncomfortable as he stares you down with the full motion.

As slowly as he licks his frozen treat do you slowly raise your middle finger, eliciting chuckles from the other occupants of the table.

You think you won that mini battle, though?

Ha! Nope.

Baji mirrors the vulgar action, not once breaking eye contact as he dips the tip of his finger directly into his ice cream, pulls it out, and proceeds to lick that, too.

Disgusted, you promptly avert your attention elsewhere, praying that Baji won’t continue being, well, himself.

Your prayers fall on deaf ears.

"It's cold!" As soon as the exclamation leaves your mouth, your blood runs glacial, knowing that you've unintentionally played into Baji's trap. The appearance of a sly, almost feral, smirk when you whip your head around to glare confirms what you already know.

The curtain has risen, and you’re standing center stage in a performance you can’t break free from.

"Aw, can't let it go to waste,” Baji continues, reaching over to scoop the ice cream you’re 100% certain he purposely spilled on the front of your shirt, with his fingers.

Then, to your horror and everyone else’s shock, he asks, without an ounce of virtue to his name, "Want me to lick it off with my mouth?"

Chifuyu is seated on the other side of the table, hiding his face in his hands. “Baji-san...”

"It'll stain if it dries like that." Dear God, how you wish to un-see Baji batting his eyelashes at you.

“I don’t care!” At this point, you’ve resorted to clumsily scooting your chair as far away from him as possible, which isn’t actually as far as you’d like considering your surroundings. Hell, so long as you put some distance between yourself and the crazy bastard that wants to see you suffer, you don’t mind having to force yourself halfway onto Mikey’s lap. (The firm hand that keeps you steady by the waist proves that your presence isn’t unwanted either.)

"Geez, (Y/n), you're such a scatterbrain."

Seeing Baji sell the line with a slow tugging of his hair behind the ear has you torn between laughing and dying a little more. Truthfully, his acting is frighteningly impressive, and you would’ve applauded his performance, if not for the fact that the role he’s playing still haunts your dreams.

By this time, most of who accompanied you to the ice cream parlor have figured out what kind of drugs Baji is on this time, which also means that those fuckers have seen, or are at least aware of, the cursed trilogy of questionable porn that’s being reenacted before their eyes, with you as an unwilling co-star. Those that are puzzled as to why people are shoving their fists in their mouths to refrain from laughing are obviously God’s favorites.

“The fuck is going on? I wanna laugh at Baji’s dumbassery, too.”

“Pah-chin... I think it’s best you don’t know.”

Interestingly enough, the one you’re most concerned about hasn’t said anything yet, splitting his attention between observing the scene unfolding and eating his portion of a deluxe sundae.

Then, out of nowhere-

“I understand.”

You and Baji freeze where you are, each of you grasping the other’s collar, you to shove him away, and him to draw you closer.

“(Y/n),” Mikey says, your name rolling silkily off his tongue in a tone much too fond for his next words, “if you like roleplay, just tell me.”

...

“Huh?”

“I’m fine with pissing, remember? So, roleplay shouldn’t be a problem.”

Heat rises to your face at an alarming pace, and it continues to climb as Mikey takes your free hand in his, which serves not to comfort but to unintentionally remind you of the humiliating experience from a few months back. And just when you convinced him that you didn’t want anything to do with getting freaky with the body’s excreta, too.

“You’ve got it wrong! I don’t- arfghfgh?!”

Your prayer to help cool down your flushed cheeks must have been heard, but you’re pretty damn sure you didn’t ask for Baji to shove his ice cream in your mouth!

“Oh, yeah. (Y/n)’s a fuckin’ geek when it comes to roleplay,” the unhinged bastard speaks in your stead, indifferent to the nails clawing at his hand clamped over your mouth. “You should try it with him. We were doing a scene from his favorite anime.”

Mikey tilts his head, interest positively piqued. “Which one is that?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, leader?”

Mikey raises an eyebrow.

Baji opens his mouth.

You lunge.

It’s a series of events that happens in the blink of an eye and ends with loud crashing as you tackle Baji to the ground.

“Listen up, Baji Keisuke. We took an oath that day, and if you dare utter a word of what went down, I’ll consider that a breach of the code of secrecy and take you down, making sure you drown in a pit of your own shame and despair.”

Surprised to have been pinned down so quickly, it takes a while for Baji’s brain to catch up, but when it does, he’s frustratingly unfazed at the threat.

“Oho~ How scary. Too bad for you, I have no shame.”

“Not even if I tell Mama Baji where your porn stash is?”

That has the great Baji tensing up.

“You wouldn’t dare use an underhanded tactic like that.”

Your lips turn into a wicked grin. “Are you sure? I have as much dirt on you as you have on me, and like you, I won’t hesitate to use it to my advantage.”

If your grin is wicked, Baji’s is downright evil, showing off his sharp, gritted canines and all.

“You got balls, (Y/n),” he snarls, “but mine are bigger.”

The boy beneath you opens his mouth, and faster than you can stop him, he just...does it.

“(Y/n) (L/n) watched Boku no Pico and liked it!”

Silence.

Silence is all that’s heard for a good, long minute following the booming roar of the revelation.

You dare not look up to gauge everyone’s reactions, instead keeping your icy glare fixated on Baji, who looks smug as shit for having caused the glorious eruption of heat to spread like wildfire across your entire body, from the tips of your ears down to where your skin disappears under the collar of your jacket.

This...

This is war.

Taking in a deep breath, you answer his uncalled for declaration with your own thunderous shout of, “Baji watched Boku no Pico and jacked off to it! Twice!”

Baji laughs. “Oh, pray tell, saintly (Y/n), how many times did you jack off to it?”

“None of your fucking business, asshole.”

“Pretty fucking sure it is, since we were in the same room.”

Someone chokes, while you choke Baji.

“We. Swore. To. Secrecy. You. Asshole,” you practically growl, with each of your words accompanied by a ruthless back-and-forth shaking of the other boy’s person.

“Let up on the choking, dude. I’m not into that. You, however-”

Unable to take the ceaseless slander to your name anymore, you reel your fist back, but, upon seeing Baji’s cheek turned to you, jaw jutted out, as if inviting you to take your best shot, you hesitate. You know you wouldn’t be able to pack enough of a punch to actually leave an impact on him, which is terribly upsetting.

On the bright side, there’s still one tactic you can use that’ll be just as effective, a technique courtesy of your health teacher, who happily taught it to the class to use in case of an emergency.

Technically, it’s meant to be used to assess a person’s level of consciousness, but you suppose it can be used to get back at inconsiderate idiots, too.

“Ow! Ow! What the fuc-! Ow!”

You keep a straight face as you continue to rub your knuckles against his sternum, fully intent on delivering the worst possible pain to the current bane of your existence. It brings a sort of sadistic satisfaction to hear the ever prideful Baji’s screams of pain, and while it doesn’t completely undo the damage done, it does help soothe your wounded self-esteem.

“You want me stop? Beg for it.”

“Pissing, roleplay, choking, and begging? Goddam- OW!”

Your reign of terror comes to its untimely end when you’re lifted up into the air by the armpits, and through the haze of your power trip, you realize that Baji’s saving grace is Draken, who proceeds to carry you out of the parlor with ease.

“People are staring,” he coolly explains when you protest to having unfinished business.

Pouting, you cross your arms over your chest. “It’s his fault.”

Once outside, Draken doesn’t immediately put you back on your feet, until Mikey strolls out of the parlor. Only when the gang leader has his arms outstretched to you are you promptly deposited on the ground and taken into his embrace.

“Are you done letting off some steam?” is the first thing he asks you. Even though you can’t see his expression, the way he holds you and the way he cradles the back of your head, handling you with the utmost care, is indication enough that there will be no reprimand for, essentially, assaulting your division commander. (You would argue that it was an act of self defense against verbal harassment, but whatever.)

There’s just an overwhelming amount of love. So, so, so much love for each other.

“Yeah, I am,” you eventually answer, followed by a content sigh.

“Good.”

Naturally, that’s the perfect time for the tinkling of the bells above the parlor door to pilfer your attention. Baji’s appearance causes your face to morph into a scowl.

You cling tighter to Mikey, peeking over his shoulder to flip the ravenet off and mouth, ‘Go to Hell.’

As always, Baji answers your attempt to appear opposing with an obnoxious smirk.

‘See you there.’

~~~

“Boku no Pico, huh?”

“Draken, don’t laugh! Baji forced me to watch it!”

“All 3 episodes?”

“Twice.”

“...”

“...”

“Favorite scene...?”

“As if I’d have one.”

"Actually-"

“Ahh! Shut up! Why are you here, stupid Baji?! You live in the other direction!”

~~~

“Hey, (Y/n). Want to try doing the same thing with me?”

You look up, perplexed. Mikey literally just walked into the room, and that was the first thing he said to you.

“Do wha-?”

Your breath catches in your throat when you turn your head, only for you to come centimeters from bumping noses with him. And because he can, he lovingly knocks your foreheads together, too.

“It’s okay. I promise it’ll definitely be fun.”

You should feel ashamed for recognizing the same sequence of lines from Boku no Pico so quickly, though any coherent words are overtaken by an incomprehensible, high-pitched screech, a feat achieved solely by a teenage boy going through puberty.

A combination of shock and amusement crosses over Mikey’s features then. He’s never heard you make that sound before.

It’s cute. Strains the ears quite a bit, but cute.

While Draken lurks beside him, questioning Mikey’s standards of what constitutes as ‘cute,’ you’re sprinting across the room, red-faced, to Baji, who’s already grinning from ear-to-ear.

“Stop tainting my boyfriend, you piece of shit! Give him back his innocence!”

(Unbeknownst to you, whilst immersed in your fit of hysterics, your use of the word ‘boyfriend’ has a certain blond beaming.

“Did you hear that, Ken-chin? He called me his boyfriend.”

“Wow, congrats.”

Mikey either doesn’t give a shit or is simply too smitten to acknowledge Draken’s apathetic response.)

Baji blinks, unable to believe what you’re trying to insinuate. “Innocent? That little gremlin motherfucker?”

Both of you look in Mikey’s direction. When he sees you staring, he breaks out in a smile and throws a wave.

Your heart involuntarily skips a beat at the sight, and, okay, you’re convinced. Mikey deserves better than knowing of that cursed series’ existence.

Clearly, you’re down bad for Toman’s leader, and as such, Baji figures he can use that to quench his boredom for the day.

“Ooh, if only you knew what he gets off to.”

The tone in his voice instantly rouses suspicion. You narrow your eyes at him. “I don’t care what kind of porn he gets off to.”

“Porn? Nah, ya silly goose-”

“Don’t call me that.”

Baji ignores your comment as he moves to sling one arm around your shoulders, the other raising up to mimic an obscene tugging motion that no teenage boy is a stranger to.

“He jerks it to yo-”

BAM!

One second, Baji is lazily hanging off of your person, the next, he’s sprawled out on the floor, face down, and groaning in pain. You expect nothing less after witnessing him receive a rather impressive flying kick to the chest from Mikey.

Before you can assess the full damage, your view gets obscured by a pair of keys.

“Wanna take my bike out for a spin?”

Yes, you know Mikey is trying to divert your attention from whatever Baji was going to say, and, yes, you probably should check on the figure that has yet to get up.

But do you really care?

You take one glance at Baji’s concerningly unmoving body and quickly come to a conclusion.

You do not.

That being said, you quite literally drag Mikey and, by extension, Draken out of there, chanting an excited, “Let’s go!” on your way, abandoning Baji to wither on the ground.

Baji?

Baji feels betrayed.

~~~

"Chifuyu?”

“Hm?”

“Y’know, I was joking.” Baji flips onto his back with a grunt. “Man, who knew Mikey was all grown up?”

The vice captain of the first division hums, seemingly uninterested in his commander’s musings.

It goes quiet for a few minutes, the sole instigator of noise being Chifuyu flipping the pages of his manga.

Unpredictable is Baji, and the same goes for his train of thought.

“I should punch Mikey for kicking me.”

“No, you’d get beat up.”

“...”

“I should punch (Y/n) for Mikey kicking me.”

Truly, unpredictable and senseless.

“You’d still get beat up.”

Baji opens his mouth to argue.

“By Mikey.”

He promptly closes it.

“Fuck it. I’ll keep spicing up their relationship as payback.”

Sighing, Chifuyu closes his book to crouch down next to him. “Baji-san, with all due respect, you’re an asshole.”

Baji Keisuke has experienced betrayal twice today.

And he deserved it both times.

[scuttling]

All I Have To Give

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 5,096 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Daddy kink, Dom/sub, Collar & leash, Oral sex, Deep throating, Restraints, Fingering, Cockwarming, Spanking, Unprotected sex, Come marking, Subspace, Subdrop, Aftercare Summary: A difficult case brings complex emotions, and Aaron is willing to do anything to help the woman he loves process them. *Prompted by @ssamorganhotchner and @angelhotchner and this Link to AO3 or read below! Even after all of his time at the BAU, Aaron knows he hasn’t seen it all, or even close to it—it seems like the atrocities just get worse every year, that humans never fail to find a new way to hurt one another, and that makes him and everyone else on the team constantly question everything they know. He’d like to say it gets easier, but it really doesn’t; you just find new ways to lean on your partners, new ways to cope with the horrors and indecencies the world has to offer.

The case they are currently working on is hitting one profiler especially hard, and because Aaron happens to be in love with her, it’s hitting him hard as well.

“I just can’t imagine waking up one morning and thinking you have your whole life ahead of you, and then some asshole decides he likes the way you look and wants to turn you into his property,” she murmurs that night when they are laying together in the hotel room they share. She had been so strong all day, as always, and then all but collapsed into tears the second the door was closed behind them. “It’s disgusting.”

“I know, baby; cases like these are some of the worst.” He rubs her back with strong hands, pulls her close to his chest. “What can I do for you? I hate to see you like this.” She sniffles, brushes a hand over her eyes, shakes her head.

“I don’t think there’s anything right now. Just being here with me like this, and talking to me, it’s helping. Thank you.” He sighs, because he knows when she gets this upset just talking it out isn’t usually enough, but he has to follow her lead; he just leans in to press his lips to hers, gentle and sweet, and she curls her fingers into his t-shirt and falls asleep with her head against his chest.

The next day, they apprehend the unsub after a standoff; unfortunately, he’d killed the girls when he heard on the police scanner that law enforcement was approaching—all twelve of them. She is the one to find them, and she gets sick, a first in her five years at the BAU. Aaron goes to her side, brings some water for her; her eyes are haunted when she looks up at him.

“Branded,” she croaks, and he doesn’t understand at first, until he looks more closely at the pile of bodies and sees the marks seared into their hips: DM—the unsub’s initials. He exhales deeply, and she turns around and gets sick again.

They take him back to the precinct, try to get a DNA sample, but he won’t agree until his lawyer is present; his story is that his property has been unoccupied for some time, and that he had no idea the girls were being held there, or by whom.

Aaron knows he shouldn’t let her interrogate him. He knows that, but she pleads, and that is something he’s always been unable to resist.

“Branding, huh? Are you that insecure—that worried that the women you called your property wanted nothing to do with you?” she asks, standing with her arms crossed.

“Do you mean my herd? I didn’t just call them my property, honey. They were my property. I owned them. The brands are for everyone else, not for me.” She slams her hands down on the table, sweeps them over the photos she’d laid out in front of him, and they go fluttering to the ground. He can’t see her face, but he knows from her tone that her jaw is clenched, her eyes ablaze.

“You did not own them. Ownership is granted, not taken, you pathetic excuse for a man.” He flexes his hands against the cuffs fixed to the table but says nothing. “You are so powerless that this is the only way you can get it up, isn’t it? By stealing women from their families, their lives, and pretending they’re yours.”

“They are mine!” he shouts, but then he takes a deep breath, visibly calming himself. “I took… the herd, from their meaningless, mundane lives, I brought them home, I gave them purpose. Being my property gave them value they didn’t have before.”

“And then you killed them, so what’s the value now? How dumb do you look?” She gets right up in his face, and hateful, misogynistic poison glints in his eyes, shows through the calm facade he tries so desperately to project. “It’s like burning your own house down, isn’t it? Only there’s no insurance money to collect here, Darren. All that’s left is your stupid ass and a pile of bodies with your fucking name on them.”

“Don’t call me stupid,” he mutters, and she drums her fingers on the tabletop, almost thoughtfully.

“What would you call it? Risking everything to abduct twelve women only to turn around and kill them so they can’t tell us what a pitiful human being you are?” She leans in closer, and he turns his neck to face away from her, like he’s trying to ignore her. “But the thing is, I don’t need them to tell me,” she whispers. “I know you were a disappointment to your father, a disgrace to your mother. I know the disgusting, depraved things you did to your sister, and now the whole world’s going to know. I’m going to tell everyone.”

Aaron can see the change in him from where he stands on the other side of the glass, and he glances at Morgan, then makes for the door. He’s just gotten it open when the man pulls back and spits on her cheek; she freezes, then reaches up, wipes it off, calm and collected, and grabs his jaw with the hand not covered in saliva.

“Guess what, Darren? You’re my property, now. Your ass belongs to the US Government, and I’m going to personally ensure you never see the light of day again.” She holds her hand up—covered in DNA evidence—and walks past Aaron, out the door. She is unusually quiet on the flight back to DC despite the successful interrogation, pensive and solitary; even on the ride from the airport back home she just leans toward him, silent, hand resting on his thigh, her eyes unfocused.

He knows how hard this case hit her, can only hope that she will open up to him when they get home so he can give her what she needs to get through it. He will do anything, just needs to hear it from her.

“Why don’t we take a bath?” he says softly when they get home, dropping their bags in the laundry room, and he brushes a hand over her cheek. “We can soak the day away, and then maybe if you’re feeling better we can talk about what I can do to help.”

She looks up at him, nods, and they rid each other of their clothes and he draws them a bath, hot and foamy with calming aromatherapy oils she enjoys. She lays along his body, curled up, head on his chest, and he holds her close, massages the back of her neck and her shoulders with gentle fingers.

When they get out and dry off, she heads for her closet, returns with a box as tall as a thick book, a little less wide; she sets it on the bed, perches next to it, and looks up at him with expectant eyes.

“What’s this, baby?” he asks, approaching, and he kneels down, puts his arm around her and sets a hand on the box. “Is it for me?”

“Yes, daddy. It’s for you to put on me. I bought it a few weeks ago, but I… I need it now.” He lifts the lid, pulls out what he thinks at first is a wrist cuff but is actually a thick leather collar, with two metal rings attached to the front, and a… a leash. It’s made of metal chain, not long, with a leather loop to hold, and to say he’s caught off guard by this gift would be an understatement.

“You want me to put this on you? Can I ask why?” She moves toward him, puts her hands on the collar too, looks up at him with wide, wet eyes.

“Because I’m not my own person. You own me.” She tilts her neck, bares it, clearly waiting for him to put it on her, but what she’s saying doesn’t sit right with him, too many parallels to the case that made her so physically and mentally unwell.

“Baby, you are your own person. I love you for exactly who you are, and I would never try to own you, to take who you are away from you.” He presses his palm to her cheek, and she leans into it, kisses it with soft, gentle lips.

“It’s not you taking, daddy, it’s me giving. I need to give this to you—it’s the most important thing I have, and I need you to let me give this to you.” He exhales deeply, still not sold on the idea; she may think she wants this in the moment, feeling low as she is, but, what if she changes her mind? What if she no longer trusts his judgement because he plays into this when she’s not at her most clear-headed?

“Are you sure?” he asks, looking into her eyes, checking them for hesitation, but she only nods; he moves his hand from her cheek, gently pulls the collar out of her grip and brings it to her throat, buckles it at the nape of her neck. She sighs, something like relief when he leans back; she wets her lips, and her eyes are heavy.

“You own me, daddy. I’m yours, see?” She tilts her neck again, but all he sees is that it’s tight against her skin, maybe uncomfortably so. He frowns.

“Is it too tight? It looks too tight. I think we should take it off; maybe we can try again another night, when you didn’t have such a hard day.” He moves his hands to the back of her neck, wants to unbuckle it, but she gets upset almost instantly, looking down at her empty hands like they’re causing her pain. He covers them with his own, shushes her softly. “Oh, what is it, sweet girl? Daddy’s right here, it’s okay.”

“I just wanted to please you, daddy. Your name is on me, and I thought you would like it, but if you don’t want me this way…” That makes him pause, and he brings her hands to his lips, kisses them.

“What do you mean, my name is on you? What does that mean, baby?” She pulls her hand out of his, moves her hair out of the way, and then he sees it: his initials, AH, embossed on the collar in silver script.

God, it’s no wonder she had such a visceral reaction to the branding. And it’s no wonder she is stressing wanting to give this to him, when the other women had their choices taken from them. She has a choice, and she’s making it, and all he has to do is accept the gift she’s trying so hard to give to him.

“Please, daddy. I need to give this to you,” she murmurs, further solidifying what he now knows, and he wraps the chain around his hand, pulls it tight, tugs her close for a kiss.

The easy way the tension leaves her body at the possessive gesture makes him groan, and he kisses her so long and hard that—between the kissing and the collar—she is already in subspace when he pulls back to let them catch their breath.

“You’re mine, baby girl; my name is on you. I own you.” She pants, nods, puts her hands on his shoulders and looks into his eyes, so grateful, beautiful.

“Yes, daddy. Thank you, daddy. I’m yours so tell me what to do and I’ll do it, anything. Please.” He kisses her again, then climbs onto the bed, loosens his grip on the chain a bit and pulls her with him as he lays back against the pillows. Her gaze is warm, brilliant, and he guides her to kneel between his legs, drops the leash and takes the black hair tie off of her wrist to sweep her hair back into a ponytail. It’s by no means perfect, but she likes when he does it, knows what it means; she’s already staring at his cock, and he’s willing to bet her mouth is watering in anticipation.

“I want you to suck for me, sweet girl. Owned girl.” Her eyelashes flutter and she wets her lips, nods enthusiastically. She wraps one hand around his cock, presses the other against his thigh, and he picks up the chain again, tightens it as she drops to cover him with her mouth.

She starts with short, wet, slow strokes, looking up at him through her pretty lashes, and he’s reduced to just his love for her and his need to come, as always when she does this for him. He moans softly, reaches down a hand to squeeze her breast, to give her some contact and pleasure, and she whines, moves a little faster.

He wasn’t planning to come this way, but he can think of plenty of ways to keep her occupied and feeling good while he recovers, so he wraps the chain around his hand one more time, guides her down, so she’ll take him deeper. She can do it, has been trained at her own request, because almost nothing makes her wetter than having her mouth full of his cock.

“Good girl, you’re doing so good for daddy. Can I come down your throat, baby? Can you take it?” She nods, bobs, and he yanks the chain just to see what she will do.

It turns her into a bit of a feral little monster, humping her hips against nothing, digging her nails into his thigh, doubling down on her efforts to make him come, and he just tips his head back and enjoys it, pinches her nipple between his fingers.

“Yes, sweet girl. So close. Keep moving your hips, baby; horny, desperate girl. Daddy will let you come soon, just keep going.” Perfect woman that she is, she hums around him, takes him deeper yet; the chain is wound so far around his hand he thinks absently that he may as well just hold onto her collar, and when he hooks his finger around the metal ring she looks up at him and moans.

He comes holding onto that ring, and when she is finished swallowing for him he pulls her up by it, kisses her passionately, gratefully, and whispers praise against her lips; she is soaking wet, he can feel it where she is sprawled on his stomach, so he guides her to lay back on the bed and leans in for a couple more kisses.

“That was perfect, my sweet, owned girl. Did you like that?” He holds the chain loose and rubs two fingers over her clit, and she bucks up, nods her head.

“Yes, owner daddy. I love when you let me take you that far. It makes me achy,” she whines, and he spreads her thighs apart, very wide, presses a finger inside.

“I know, baby. I can feel how soft and wet you are for daddy. I want you to come on my fingers next, okay?”

“Yes, please, I want to. Want to come on them hard for you.” He leans in for a sweet, soft kiss, slides his finger out of her, then takes her hands and brings them together under her chin, wraps the chain around her wrists so they’re loosely bound, holding the handle in his fist. She moans like he’s destroying her, though he’s barely touched her, but when he slips two fingers inside her she just gasps softly and throws her head back, her stomach tensing.

“Such a pretty girl for me. I’m so lucky you’re all mine.” He is calm—or at least, he’s projecting calm—where she is keyed up, eager, desperate, and he always loves it like this, loves to see how much he can tease her, how long she will hold out until she’s begging for him to fuck her with his hand. “Can you stay still for me? I wonder how long you can stay still for me, sweet girl.”

“Mmm, daddy.” Her chest is heaving as he thrusts his fingers slowly in, then out, then rubs them up her pussy, between her lips, and then thrusts them back in. It’s got to be torture for her, but she just breathes. “I can stay still, daddy. I can do whatever you ask.”

He closes his eyes briefly, collects himself so he doesn’t let all that power go to his head, and pushes his fingers into her a bit faster just to watch her struggle to behave.

“Does that feel good, daddy’s girl?” She bites her lip and nods, offers him a strained god, yes, so he adds another finger; the fact that she can speak at all means she’s far too coherent for his liking. He leans up for a kiss, brushes his nose over her throat, along the edge of the collar, right where his initials are, and she lifts her hips but stops herself, whimpers. “Oh, baby, what is it? Are you needy?” he whispers in her ear.

“Needy, please daddy,” she pleads softly, her eyes focused on him when he pulls back to look at her face, but also a little far away at the same time. “Please, please, I need to come. I need to come, I’m achy.”

“Shh, it’s okay, I’ve got you. I’ll make you come, sweet girl.” He presses their mouths together a couple times, losing his composure a little as she loses hers, and then he moves down between her open legs and rubs his tongue over her clit while pounding his fingers inside.

She is unable to resist moving her hips as she gets closer to climax, and he pulls away, pausing to look up into her eyes again. They’re very hazy now, and she’s whining high in her throat at the sudden lack of stimulation.

“If you don’t stay still, daddy will have to spank you, baby girl. Do you understand?” She nods lazily, and he taps his hand against her pussy, a couple of light slaps just to get her attention. She blinks, makes eye contact, and he asks again. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, daddy.” She flicks her tongue over her lips, closes her eyes, and he leans back in to roll his tongue over her clit, fingers moving quickly in and out of her. She remains still for about thirty seconds and then slams down hard against his hand, and from there she doesn’t stop. “Oh please, please. So close, please daddy,” she begs, pressing into the thrusts, and just when she is starting to come he wraps his hand around the chain around her wrists, tugs her body up so he can reach her mouth, and kisses her deep and wet while he fucks her through her orgasm.

She comes hard as promised, soaking his hand, moaning into the kiss—probably due to the fact that he’s holding her up by the leash, because displays of strength make her feel extremely submissive—and when she is through he lays her gently back, unwinds the chain and kisses her wrists.

“Good girl, you did so well. Daddy is so proud.” He leans up to press easy kisses to her cheeks and mouth, and she wraps her arms around his neck, making soft noises of contentment against his lips. “I love you so much, sweetheart. I love making you feel good. Do you love making me feel good?”

He knows she does, but likes to hear it, even when it’s just a sigh like the one she gives him now—he knows what all of her sounds mean, when she’s so deeply sunken into subspace that she's all begging and soft noises and daddy.

“Yeah, I know you do, sweetheart. Are you ready for me to come inside you? Daddy comes inside because he owns you.”

“Daddy, mmm,” she breathes, and he gets up on his knees, spreads them, and drapes her thighs over his, slides in easily because she is still so open and slick. He wraps one hand around her thigh and brings the other to the chain hooked to her collar, loops it around his forearm, and thrusts quick and smooth, grunting when she grabs his wrists and bucks her hips against him. “Oh, fuck. Oh.” She gasps when he pulls on the chain a little harder, bounces roughly against his thighs and whimpers her pleasure, then drops a hand to her pussy and rubs as he slams into her with equal desperation.

“Yes baby, fuck daddy. Good girl, rubbing your little pussy; if I come before you, you’ll have to wait a while, so I hope you get off first.” She whines unhappily at that, rubs faster, her head tipped back, and when he squeezes her breast with the hand holding the handle of the leash she wraps her legs tightly around his thighs and comes with his name on her lips.

It doesn’t take long for him to follow: he takes his hands off of her completely, since she’s holding on to him with her legs, and fucks her hard, pulling on the chain and muttering praise until he spills deep inside her. She is breathless, still but for the rise and fall of her chest, and he takes a moment before pulling out, unwrapping the chain from around his arm and encouraging her to turn onto her stomach.

She complies easily, looks fucked-out and spent, and he kisses along her spine, between her shoulder blades when he slides back into her.

“Again, daddy?” she asks, barely a whisper, and he runs his hands over her body, soft and soothing, leans in to put his weight against her back, his mouth at her ear.

“Not yet, baby girl, but I want to stay inside you, okay? How are you feeling?” She turns her head for a kiss, hums.

“Fuzzy. Good.” He kisses her again and moves his lips to her jaw, then her neck, right up against the collar.

“Is it uncomfortable? Too tight?” he asks softly. He doesn’t want to upset her by suggesting they take it off, but he’s been rough with it, so he wants to check.

“No, owner daddy. It’s perfect.” She gets her arm out from beneath her, reaches it around his neck and pulls him close, nuzzles against his throat. “I love you and I love being owned by you.”

“I love you, baby girl, and I love owning you. You’ve given me everything.”

This may have started as something to do to get her through the lingering effects of the case, but he would be lying if he said he doesn’t see and feel the value in the voluntary transfer of power, how easily she gave herself to him, willingly, completely. He kisses her again, sweet and slow, and then leans up, puts his hands on her ass, massages it.

“Do you need anything?” She murmurs yes, and he smiles a little to himself, rubs a hand up her back. “Thank you for telling me, baby. What can daddy do for you?”

“I need to be spanked, daddy. I couldn’t hold still.” She slides up to her hands and knees, knees spread wide, and though he’s no longer hard inside her, he doesn’t see that being a problem for long.

“That’s right. Good girl for reminding me.” He squeezes her ass, then lightly taps it, and she whimpers. “You were too horny, you couldn’t stay still. I’m not mad,” he promises with another tap. “I know how you get when I touch your pussy: you become such a messy, needy, desperate baby. You can’t help yourself.” She sighs, presses her ass back against him and tilts her head back a little.

“Can’t help myself, daddy,” is all she says, voice breathy and short, and he picks up the leash, holds it loosely along the length of her spine, and smacks her hard on the ass with an open palm.

She gasps, digs her fingers into the bedding, braces herself for more impact; by the sixth, she is grinding against him, panting and whining, her ass an angry red. She’s drenched in slick, and he’s hard again, so he grabs her ass roughly with both hands and thrusts a few times before spanking her a seventh time.

“Fuck daddy, yes daddy,” she moans, pushing eagerly into his thrusts; she fucks herself on his cock even when he’s still, even when his hands come down hard on her already irritated skin. “Mmh. I’m bad, daddy. I’m bad and I’m not perfect, but you still love me.” He exhales deeply, because he knows his girl well, and he knows this means she will be dropping, hard, as soon as she comes; he mentally prepares for the worst, just in case.

“You’re not bad, sweetheart, you are so good; not just to me, but to everyone.” He moves one hand to her hip, holds her steady, then grabs the chain with the other hand and pulls her closer while he pounds inside her. “And no, you’re not perfect, but you’re perfect for daddy; you’re smart, and sweet, and so beautiful, and I love you.” He drapes himself over her back, tugs on the chain so she will meet him for a gentle kiss, their lips so soft in contrast to the way their bodies meet, eager for release. “I love you, baby. Come and let daddy take care of you. Daddy will make it all better.”

She reaches back for him, covers his hand with hers and takes a deep, shuddering breath; it’s only a matter of time before the tears fall, and he would like to be holding her by then, so he curls his hand around to rub at her clit, murmurs reassurances and repeats that he’s got her, and she comes trembling, gasping beneath him.

He kisses her shoulders, thrusts a few more times and then pulls out to come on her hot, marked ass; breathless, he eases her body down onto the bed, leans up to brush her hair back and unbuckle the collar, sets it aside.

“That’s it, sweet girl. Time to rest and let daddy take care of you. You did so well for me, baby. You gave me everything; I will be so careful with it.” He squeezes his eyes shut, feels so much emotion for the sensitive, thoughtful, incredible woman beneath him it makes his chest ache. He brings a hand to her ass, rubs his come in, knows that it stings—but they both like this, and he knows she will expect it, would feel somehow inadequate if he didn’t. He presses a kiss to her lower back. “I’m going to get you some water, good girl. Amazing, special girl. Be right back.”

He grabs a pillow, brings it to her head and lifts it up so she’s pressed comfortably against it, then gives her a peck on the cheek and heads to the kitchen for water and a snack. When he returns, she’s clutching the pillow, turned to face the door so she can see him enter. He pulls her close, sits her up enough to give her a few sips of water, then sets down the glass and holds her against his chest, soft and shivering slightly in his arms.

“I know we just had a bath earlier, but would you like another? Or a shower?” He tugs the blanket loose and wraps it around them, rocks her a little. Gently removing the ponytail holder from her hair, he shakes it loose with his fingers, rubs her throat where the collar left a slight indentation. “Sweet, owned girl, I will give you anything you need, always. Just tell me when you’re ready.”

She cries, clutching at him, and he soothes her, squeezes her, moves his hands through her hair and brushes the tears off of her face; when the sobbing slows, he reaches carefully for tissues on the bedside table, dries her eyes and helps her blow her nose, then gives her more water. She looks a little better after drinking half the glass, so he convinces her to take a couple bites of food, rubs her sore ass with a soft hand.

“Can we shower? And then more of this?” she asks, just a whisper, and he nods and leans in for some slow, sweet presses of lips. Her fingers card through his hair, and he presses a hand to her cheek. “Thank you, daddy. I’m so grateful for you.”

“I’m grateful for you, too, baby. The world just isn’t right when you’re upset—when I can’t find that brilliant smile.” It’s not quite brilliant, but the corner of her mouth does curve up for him, which he considers a good sign. “Let’s go get cleaned up and then I’ll hold you until you’re sick of me,” he teases. He unwraps them and gets off the bed with her in his arms.

“Could never be sick of you ever. Perfect daddy, perfect man.” He shoots her a look, something like yeah right but not too self-deprecating, and she cuddles closer. “Okay, perfect for me, anyway. Strong, gentle owner daddy I know I can trust with everything.”

They shower—she practically purrs when he scrubs her head with shampoo, when he combs conditioner through her hair with his fingers—and slip into pajamas, and he takes the comforter to the laundry room and grabs the spare, wraps her up tight and pulls her close, hugs and kisses and talks to her about everything and nothing until she’s ready for some dinner and a movie on the couch.

She thanks him for everything he did to help her through it, but it’s really his pleasure; it’s where he finds his value, and he tells her so. Because she can’t wear the collar to work, he makes a stop on his lunch break a week later, sneaks into a jewelry store, and buys her a ring.

There is no room to inscribe his initials, but his intentions are heavily implied.

Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed

[chaoticpuff17]

When the Chips are Down

part 15

masterlist

Hello my darlings! I’m back from vacation, and I have an update for you! after leaving you on such a cliffhanger too. If you haven’t checked out the newest fic in the Forbidden Fables collab, you should! @chimchimsauce​ has done a fabulous job with it, and I’m always a sucker for a good Cinderella story. --- chaotic puff

Shock. Horror. Despair.  All of these things ran through him in waves as he stared at the door in front of him. Y/N was behind that door. Y/N was behind that door, and she was dying while he sat out here helpless to do anything about it. Jin had shut him out of the room, demanding he stay put while he went to go help the doctors with Y/N. 

He’d thought that after the hours of pain they would get to sit and enjoy their little girl in peace, but it seemed like that wasn’t meant to be. Instead he and their daughter had to sit alone and forlorn without any idea how she was doing. 

The baby made a small distressed sound, bringing her father’s attention to her, and Namjoon suddenly realized he had no idea what to do. He’d read the books. He’d planned, but he had no idea what to do in reality. Y/N would have known. She was a perfect mother, but Namjoon didn’t and he felt lost. 

“It’s okay, princess.” he cooed, awkwardly bouncing her. “Eomma is gonna be just fine.” 

That didn’t seem to help anything as she let out a sound that was more of a squawk than anything else before bursting into tears, crying her little heart out. Namjoon didn’t know that a being so small could make such a loud noise, and it sent him into a panic. 

“Okay. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” he begged, but she seemed set on ignoring him. “Please don’t cry.” 

“Oh, goodness.” came the exasperated sigh from the other end of the room drawing a relieved sigh from Namjoon as salvation was in sight. “Give her to me.” Sen appeared as if from nowhere with a diaper bag hung on her shoulder to scoop the screaming infant from his arms. 

“How’s, Y/N?” Yoongi asked, plopping into the seat beside him. 

“I don’t know.” The screaming stopped, Namjoon looked up to see Sen’s swaying back and forth gently, happily cooing at the baby. “How did you do that?” He asked in awe. 

Sen turned, showing him the newborn happily settled in her arms with a bottle of formula. “She’s hungry and mom’s not here. She’s a little upset. The least we can do is fill that belly.” she smiled gently down at his daughter, and he even caught Yoongi with a ghost of a smile from the corner of his eye. They were good together despite both of them arguing that it was a matter of convenience and that the only reason they were together was their son. 

“I don’t know what to do…” he whispered, staring down at his hands. “I thought… I thought Y/N would be here.” 

“She’ll be fine.” 

Sen nodded along with Yoongi’s words. “Do you want to try?” She offered, a little awkwardly. She and Namjoon had never been on the best of terms. 

“I don’t…” Sen rolled her eyes, starting in on giving the crime boss instructions on how to hold his arms and cradle her head as she settled the upset infant into his arms. Nara was quick to settle as Namjoon offered her the bottle again, cradles in his arms as Sen sharply reminded him to mind her head. “See? It’s easy.” 

“She’s so small.” he whispered, awestruck despite how exhausted he was. 

“Newborns are like that.” Yoongi deadpanned. 

“What am I going to do if something  happens to her?” he asked, brow furrowing and making him seem even more haggard than he was. “I don’t know anything about raising a little girl.” 

“She’ll be okay.” Yoongi assured him, the smallest of smirks tilting up the corner of his mouth as he watched Namjoon begin to panic again as Nara started fussing once more. It was a simple fix. Sen had Namjoon fix the angle of the bottle, and all was well again. “She’s tough like that. She’s put you through your paces, that’s for sure.” 

A half choked laugh escaped him as he lifted his gaze to meet that of his old friend’s. “She has, hasn’t she?” 

“With any luck this little lady will be more like her than you.” 

Another choked laugh. 

“We’d all be doomed.” Yoongi shrugged, gently tugging at the tiny foot that was poking out of the blanket. “Who’s with Yoonho?” 

“Hayan. That woman loves kids.” 

“Think she and Jin will be having any soon?” 

Yoongi gave him a look that clearly conveyed that Namjoon should have known the answer to that question already. “You know how he is with her. They’re probably not going to have any until Jin is absolutely certain she’s healthy. He thinks the poor woman is going to break if she so much as sneezes.” 

Soon enough the bottle was done, and Namjoon thought he was free and clear. She’d been content the whole time, and Sen had been kind enough to do the burping and changing before handing the baby back to him. She was convinced that if he stood up while holding her, he’d drop her. She claimed he looked like a stiff breeze could knock him over, and she didn’t want to be responsible for telling Y/N why her brand new baby had been dropped on her head. 

The problem came when Nara was handed back to him. She was fed, changed, and burped, and by any normal reasoning she should have been content and probably drifted off to sleep, but no. the moment that she was back in his arms she started caterwauling again, and nothing he did soothed her. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, looking between the couple frantically. “What did I do?”  

“Here.” Yoongi let out a long suffering sigh and scooped Nara out of his arms. Magically, she stopped crying within minutes, settling against Yoongi’s chest as he leaned back in his chair. 

“How did you do that?” 

“Maybe she just doesn’t like you.” Sen shrugged, rummaging through the diaper bag. She pulled out a pacifier and handed it over to Yoongi who took it and offered it to the sleepy little girl on his chest. 

“She’s my daughter.” 

“She’s Y/N’s daughter too.” 

Yoongi and Sen stayed with him for a while, occasionally they would try to hand Nara back to him, and she would scream each time, but eventually they had to return home to their son. Jin had made them promise not to let Hayan overdo it. Namjoon was left alone with a diaper bag and a screaming child who would not settle no matter what he did. 

He was exhausted. He was worried, and slowly, a tinge of resentment settled within him as he looked at his daughter. This tiny, squawking being was the reason Y/N wasn’t with him. If she hadn’t been pregnant, none of this would have happened. Maybe if it had been a son, maybe then it would have seemed a little more worth it, but it was a girl. He’d been so excited when Y/N had told him, but now all he felt was bitterness. He was going to lose his wife, and it was all this tiny, useless girl’s fault. 

He was on the brink of throwing her across the room when Jungkook appeared. He hadn’t left the house since Y/N had first gone into labor, but it was the first time he’d seen the boy since Nara had come into the world. 

“Is this her?” he asked, nervously eying the screaming bundle in his hyung’s arms. 

“Yeah.” 

Very unceremoniously, Namjoon plopped the baby into Jungkook’s arms despite the younger man’s panic at being offered the baby, but to both of their amazement, Nara stopped screaming after a time. 

And then, in the quiet as Jungkook cooed at his daughter telling her how pretty she was, he began to resent himself. It wasn’t Nara’s fault. She was only a few hours old, so new and small. She didn’t know what was happening to her mother. She didn’t know that she was going to be all alone in the world if her mother didn’t pull through. It wasn’t her fault. She was just as frightened as he was, and he didn’t know what he was doing. She didn’t even have the added benefit of being able to understand what was going on. None of that was her fault. 

“Is there any news about noona?” Jungkook asked softly, staring at the same door that Namjoon had been anxiously staring at since Jin had pushed him out. 

“I haven’t heard anything.” he admitted, staring down at his hands. “The doctors are with her.” 

“Has Jin hyung been out?” 

“Not yet.” he sighed. “She likes you.” he glanced over seeing his daughter drifting off to sleep in Jungkook’s arms. “She screams every time I hold her.” 

“Maybe it’s ‘cause you’re stressed. Baby’s don’t like stress.” Namjoon’s eyes widened. The thought hadn’t occurred to him before. He’d been on edge since Jin had pushed him out of the room with Nara in his arms. He hadn’t thought that his nerves could affect the baby. “She looks like noona.” 

“She does.” he admitted, the tiniest worn out smile. “And she likes me just about as much as her mother does too.” 

“It’ll be better when you both get some rest. Why don’t you get some sleep, hyung? I’ll take care of Nara, and I’ll wake you up if there’s any news about noona.” 

He shook his head. “No. I want to be here if there’s any news.” 

“You need rest, hyung.” 

“I can’t…” he whispered brokenly, resting his head in his hands. “I can’t when she’s in there… when I don’t….” he took in a deep shaky breath. “I can’t think without her. I can’t breathe. I can’t even get our daughter to stop crying.” 

“She’ll be alright. Noona is strong.” 

“There was so much blood.” 

“Jin and the other doctors are with her.” Jungkook was going to continue, but Nara let out a mighty wail startling both of them, and he was quick to shove the newborn back into her father’s arms in panic. “Your kid, hyung.” 

Namjoon was no less panicky than Jungkook, but he didn’t have the luxury of pawning off the newborn on someone else when she started crying. She was his child, and he was going to have to learn how to soothe her, especially if her mother didn’t pull through. 

“It’s okay.” he mumbled awkwardly, bouncing her in his arms. “You’re okay.” he knew she had to be tired. She was so small, and she’d barely slept at all between all the crying and the different people coming to sit with them. 

Jungkook plopped down beside him, smiling bashfully. “She’s really loud.” 

“She is.” 

At that moment though, Nara did something that made his frantic thoughts pause. She reached out with one little hand and grasped onto his finger as tightly as she could and her cries settled into whimpers as he pulled her a little tighter against him. 

“It’s going to be okay.” he told her. “Appa’s here. I’ll look after you.” he promised as she looked up at him still all teary and red, but she was settling, the first time she had settled in his arms since she’d been born. 

“See!” Jungkook beamed. “She likes you.” 

And hopefully she did. If not, she was going to make him go grey much quicker than planned. 

“Joon?” Jin called, stepping out of the room, and Namjoon’s stomach dropped seeing the amount of blood on the scrubs he wore. 

“Is she…?” 

Jin gave him a tired smile. “She’s okay for now. She’s lost a lot of blood though.” 

Namjoon stood up, already making his way to the door, but Jin stopped him. “She’s sleeping now. She’s going to need a lot of rest, and she’s getting a blood transfusion. You need to be gentle with her for a while.” Jin ordered sternly. 

“I’ll give her whatever she wants so long as she’s okay.” 

Jin nodded. “You should go sit with her, for a little bit, but you both need rest.” Namjoon nodded, only half paying attention to him now that he was allowed to see Y/N. “Don’t you dare wake her up, Namjoon!” 

But the man didn’t hear a word of the warning as his eyes zeroed in on his wife. She looked far too pale and sickly and small all tucked up in bed, but she was alright. She was alive.

part 16

[the-iceni-bitch]

A Warm Fire

Pairing: Valkyrie/Brunnhilde/Fem-Reader

Word Count: 3876

Summary: Val helps you warm up after you get caught in a storm.

Warnings: Fluff, Spoilers for Avengers: Infinity War and Endgame (erring on the safe side with this one), Explicit language, explicit sexual content (oral sex- f receiving, scissoring, fingering) SMUT, 18+

A/N: I’ve decided for my b-day week I want to bless all you sweet bitches with a brand new smutty fic each day. My holes are worn out from all the rough himbo sex I’ve been throwing at you, so today I wanted to soften things up with something for my WLW ladies. I sub for no man, but Val could spit in my mouth and turn me into a housewife!

“Well, fuck.” You sighed.

You had hoped you’d be able to outrun the storm you saw rolling in off the coast on your weekly trip to New Asgard but hadn’t even been driving for an hour when lightning started streaking across the sky and the clouds let loose a deluge that had your ancient pickup’s wipers maxed out. You couldn’t even see 20 feet in front of you and slammed on the brakes suddenly when you came upon a massive tree blocking the road. The engine stalled out and you had now been trying to turn it over for 10 minutes with no luck.

You had thankfully been able to contact Aud and Sigurd and have them bring your animals in and batten down the barn, but there was no way you were making it back tonight. You resigned yourself to sleeping in your front seat when a pile of rocks reared out of no where and tapped on your window, causing you to let out a shriek.

“Everything ok in there?”

“Jesus Christ, Korg, what are you doing out here?”

The massive Kronan straightened back up and you thought you saw his brow furrow before his face split open in a wide grin.

“Y/N, excellent! Some of us got concerned once the storm rolled in and Val sent out a group to make sure you made it off of the Fjord ok.”

“Ok, well clearly this piece of shit is not cut out for Skagerrak storms.” You told him as you stepped out into the deluge, pulling your parka around you tightly as the wind tried to whip your hood off. “I don’t suppose you drove here in any sort of vehicle?”

“As a matter of fact, Miek drove the Jeep.”

“I’m sorry, Miek drove?” The thought of the Sakaarian larval creature driving a vehicle filled you with equal parts horror and mirth. “Do you mind if I drive us back?”

“Probably for the best. I told him that knife hands are not conducive for steering but you know he doesn’t listen to me.”

You let out a laugh as Korg lumbered into the large trailer hooked to the back of the Jeep, causing it to sink into the mud a bit. Miek scooted into the passenger seat as you turned the vehicle around and started to head back to Tønsberg.

Your cautious driving extended the trip by a good 45 minutes. The thunder had stopped but it was still pouring as you parked the jeep in one of the converted stables. Korg and Miek gave you a wave as they headed back to Thor’s, Korg carrying 3 of the pallets of Aquavit you had brought with you earlier.

You headed towards the town square and saw Brunnhilde leaning against the posts in front of her small brick house, watching the storm that was still raging out at sea before she saw you and broke out in a grin.

“Y/N, I told you not to head out in this! That piece of shit truck of yours give out on you?”

“What do you think, Hilde? I just decided to walk all the back to your house for fun in this?” You shook out your hair as the two of you stepped inside, spraying her with a thin mist of rainwater.

“Ah, you bitch! Get out of those wet clothes, I got a fire started and some dry towels and blankets set out for you. Want a hot toddy?”

You winced at the thought as you started peeling yourself out of your soaked jeans. “I’d like to be able to wake up tomorrow hon. Your hot toddys are literally just a hot mug of Aquavit with a slice of lemon.” You cursed yourself silently for introducing the Asgardians to the spicy Scandinavian liquor that you now had to truck in every week. While it was extremely lucrative, they now put it in everything.

Hilde sauntered back into the main room carrying two steaming mugs as you wrapped yourself in a wool blanket and settled in front of the fire, wearing only your bra and panties.

She rolled her eyes at you and handed you a mug, which you took a wary sniff of and were pleasantly surprised to find it was just peppermint tea.

“You’re just a lightweight.” She said as she curled up in her armchair, wrapping one hand around her mug while the other picked up the worn book that was sitting on the end table.

“How do you like it so far?” You asked her, sipping your tea slowly as you waited for it to cool.

“The writing is lovely, but it’s pretty inaccurate.”

The friendship the two of you had built over the past 3 years was something truly lovely. When she and the rest of the refugees had landed, after the snap, they were all hollow shells of grief. Thor shut himself away almost immediately, and Hilde found herself thrust into a position of leadership she had never wanted. All of them wanted nothing more than to be left alone with their sorrows, doing just enough to keep themselves alive.

The first storm off the Skaggerak had almost devastated their new home though, and when she contacted Banner for help, he called you. You still kept in touch after your years together at university, and he knew you had settled somewhere in Norway and could arrive to lend a hand faster than he could.

Your arrival brought some much needed distraction to their sleepy town. You had managed to round up a group of your Norwegian neighbors, along with some fellow expats, and set about making the necessary changes to assure that New Asgard would be a thriving community. While the rest of your group set to restructuring architecture, and teaching the town’s new inhabitants the necessities of a seaside existence on the windy Fjord, you began the slow process of helping the refugees move on from their sorrow.

Your anthropology doctorate was specialized in Norse culture, after all, and you would often bring small reminders of their lost home with you whenever you came to visit. Whether it was a collection of replicated Talharpas, Skalmejens, and Lurs to give to the children to learn music or a large cache of drinking horns to stock their taverns, every time your truck came lumbering down the hills, Brunnhilde watched the faces of her citizens light up with anticipation for some new pleasant surprise. When you arrived with your first load of Aquavit and spent the night drinking with them and singing the drinking songs they knew well, you were all but confirmed as an honorary Asgardian. Your haunting rendition of Lilja actually brought tears to a few eyes.

Brunnhilde made sure to let you know how grateful she was as much as possible. She would always have some small gift for you when you arrived, but all you asked her for was to sit and talk, discussing the history of Asgard and the nine realms as you scribbled copious notes. She loved watching your face screw up in concentration as you bent over one of your notebooks, one stubborn lock of hair falling into your face.

She laughed to herself softly now as she remembered the visit a few weeks ago when she had first introduced you to her winged steed, Aragorn. Your look of awe had been replaced quickly with uncontrollable laughter when she had told you his name. You refused to tell her what was so funny, but she was determined to get it out of you at some point.

You had brought your original copy of Snorri’s Edda the next week, and she had read it through 3 times already.

She ran her hands softly over the spine of the book before tossing back the rest of her toddy and setting the book and her mug back on the end table before sinking to the floor behind you and nuzzling herself into your hair, sighing as she inhaled the scent of fresh rain.

You leaned back into her slowly, giving a soft hum of contentedness. She slipped the blanket off of your shoulders to pool around your waist as she left a trail of soft kisses down your neck, before softly raising a bruise into your collarbone with her mouth.

The moan you gave her made her grin against your skin, and she slipped one hand into the front of your bra, softly drawing her fingers across your nipple.

“Fuck, Hilde!” you pressed your chest further into her hand as her other moved behind you to unhook your bra and slip it off your shoulders, freeing your breasts. She felt your nipples harden against her fingers as she turned your head and slowly teased your mouth open with her tongue.

“Eyes open, pretty girl.” She whispered as her left hand continued to palm at your breast and roll your nipple between her fingers. You stared at her through your lashes as she brought her right hand up and put her index and middle finger in your mouth. You gave them a soft nip before sucking and swirling your tongue around them slowly.

She grinned at you wickedly as she dragged her soaked fingers down your torso at an agonizing pace, leaving a thin trail of your saliva before she tucked them under the edge of your panties and dragged them over your sopping cunt, separating the soft folds there to tease against your entrance.

“Oh, poor baby, look how much this pussy missed me?” She said as you let out a thin keen, screwing your eyes shut and dropping your head against her neck. She slapped your tit suddenly and tweaked your nipple hard, making you gasp. “You better keep those eyes open if you want me to let you come sweetheart. You want me to stretch this pretty pussy around my fingers and make you feel good?”

“Yes, god” you let out breathlessly, forcing your eyes open as she studied your face.

“Ah, ah, ask nicely.”

“Yes please.” You hissed as her fingers continued to tease at your folds, lightly brushing against your clit.

“Good girl”

She slipped one finger inside of you slowly and you immediately clenched around it as she pressed it against that soft spongy spot.

“Ooh, honey. You’re so fucking tight, I’m gonna stretch you out so good.” She whispered against your lips as she kissed you softly.

Her second finger slipped in easily and she started fucking them into you slowly, pressing her palm against your clit as she did so and your arousal seeped all over her hand. Your breath was hitching in your chest as she increased her pace.

You felt yourself flutter around her and it took all of your willpower to not screw your eyes shut and drop against her shoulder. You ground yourself against her hand as she suddenly slowed down, hungry for more friction.

“You want me to add another finger, sweet girl?” She asked slyly, teasing her promise against your entrance.

You didn’t trust yourself to speak so you nodded at her, your chest heaving as she continued palming your breast and you felt a resounding shiver in your core.

“You’re lucky I’m soft on you sweetie, I should be making you beg for this.” She murmured as she shoved all three of her fingers in suddenly, causing you to let out a small cry as she started fucking them into you at a rough speed. “I’m just finishing you off so I can feel this sweet mouth of yours on my cunt. You want to taste me baby?”

“Shit, Hilde!” The thought of her taste on your tongue sent you over the edge as she drove her palm into your clit one last time and you released around her, fluttering as you soaked her hand. Her strong arms held you still as your orgasm wracked you and every muscle trembled. Once you had ridden it out, she drew her hand out of your ruined panties to suck on her fingers.

“Mmm, you taste so good honey. Don’t you think?” She placed her mouth on yours and pressed her tongue against yours and you moaned as you tasted your own release.

“Help me out of my clothes baby, I need to ride that pretty face.”

She climbed around you and settled into your lap, kissing you deeply and making happy little humming sounds. You drew her sweater up over her head and tossed it aside, and were pleasantly surprised to see she wasn’t wearing a bra. You gave her a wicked grin before lifting her up and pressing her chest to your face, latching your mouth to one of her nipples as your hands cupped her ass through her leggings. She gave a light laugh and tossed her head back as her fingers carded themselves through your hair. You brought one of your hands between the two of you, shoving it down the front of her leggings and drawing your fingers through her slick, making her gasp.

“God, baby, you’re so fucking greedy.” She laughed lightly as you peppered her chest with kisses, occasionally creating some light suction with your tongue to raise a light bruise. “Mmm, you know just what to do, but I want to come all over that beautiful face of yours.”

You smiled against her chest as you gently nuzzled yourself between her breasts before falling back abruptly and making her gasp.

“You are being such a trouble maker, today, Y/N. Fine, I’m going grind your pussy so good before I rub that smirk off your face with my cunt.”

She sat up between your legs a drew your soaked panties off before removing her own leggings. She stretched your right leg off to the side and lightly drew her fingers up the inside of your thigh, removing them right before she reached your quivering pussy and making you whine.

“Don’t be a brat baby. Look at this pretty pussy, just weeping for me.” She stared at your swollen cunt with a grin as she hooked a hand under your left knee and positioned herself so she was straddling you, her soft folds just kissing yours as she hovered there. “You want to feel my pussy on yours, baby? Want me to grind that clit so good? You better fucking beg for it.”

“Oh god, pleasepleaseplease…” you let out in a hiss as she pressed herself down and ground herself into you.

“Mmm, I feel that sweet pussy quivering for me. God, you’re like my own fucking vibrator.” She kept twisting her hips into yours, hitting you at that perfect angle each time and making you mewl and whimper unintelligibly as she edged you closer to your release. She unbent your right leg slowly, running her thumb up your calf before nipping at the pad of your big toe, making you arch into her. “No no, sweetheart, isn’t it so much better when you hold still? You know I’ll take care of you.”

She stretched your right leg out so you were wide open and pinned your thighs down with her hands as she picked up the pace. She bit her lip and gazed down at you through hooded eyes and you felt her core twitch against yours. One more drive of her hips and you came apart at the same time, your releases mixing together to coat the insides of your thighs. You let out a scream while she just gasped, still managing to hold you down as your pleasure wracked through you and you wound your hands into the blanket beside you for some kind of anchor.

“Fuck baby, this pussy is so good to me. I wanna run my tongue over this pretty cunt while I ride your face. You better be good for me.”

She twisted herself around to straddle your face. You softly nipped at her left cheek then gave her ass a slap, making her yelp, and she responded by smacking your pussy twice before grinding into your face.

“Oohh, are you going to be a bad girl?” She scolded you as you wrapped your arms around her thighs and teased her folds with your tongue. “Am I going to have to edge you all nigh… Fuck!!” Your tongue found her entrance and you moaned into her cunt, causing vibrations that made her clench against your face. “God, baby, you’re so good at that. Your miss this pussy so bad, look at the mess you’re making.” She separated your folds and softly blew against your clit before shoving three fingers into you with no preparation. “Mmm, you’re fucking ready for me sweetheart, I’m barely even stretching you now. You want me to add another finger?”

She gave your clit another soft slap and you came suddenly, legs and core trembling as you clenched and released around her fingers. You tried to come up for air, but Hilde just ground her hips into your face.

“Na-ah.” She scolded you. “You wanted to get fresh with me and now you better make me come if you want to breathe. You get to work. I’m going to wring every ounce of pleasure out of this pussy until you give me what I want, I don’t care if you pass out.”

She inserted a fourth finger into your canal and started to fuck them all into you, flicking soft kitten licks against your small bundle of nerves before she latched onto it, sucking hard.

Tears started streaming down your face as another orgasm ripped through you. You were starting to feel light-headed from a mixture of pleasure and oxygen deprivation. She drew her tongue slowly up and down your entrance while her fingers kept moving inside you, doing her best to lap up your release before her tongue went back to massaging your clit.

You barely skimmed your teeth against her clit and she let out a soft cry against you, slapping your pussy in response and making you come again. You shook your head to bury yourself deeper into her folds and fought off the urge to pass out before shoving your tongue into her pussy and bringing your fingers up to rub harsh circles into her tiny apex of pleasure.

She collapsed against you at the sudden change in sensation with a gasp before she rose up to really grind into you.

You started fucking your tongue in and out of her, making sure to press it against her g-spot each time and felt her thighs tense around your face.

“God baby, don’t fucking stop. Fuck, just like that, right there. That tongue of yours is so fucking good. You’re so fucking good. Feels so good.” You knew when she started babbling breathlessly like this she was close. She brought one of her hands up to palm her breast as her other gripped the wrist of the hand you had working her clit, making sure you didn’t move away.

Just as the edges of your vision started to close in, you felt her core vibrate and her cunt clenched around your tongue as her release gushed into your mouth. The only sound she made was a rapid breathless pant and she rolled off of you slowly, finally allowing you to suck in oxygen as stars swam behind your vision. You did your best to catch your breath as you felt her stretch languidly beside you before she sat up to stare at you.

“Fuck, baby. I don’t know why I let you take this pussy away from me. I know you just lay there by yourself every night dreaming of my fingers buried in you.” She slowly drew a hand along your slit and you groaned when she brushed against your overstimulated clit. “Just swollen and crying for me. Whose pussy is this baby?” She asked you, curling her fingers against your mound.

You knew if you didn’t tell her what she wanted to hear, she would wring it out of you, and if you had any more orgasms you were going to pass out. “Yours, baby.” You murmured, staring at her through your eyelashes.

“Good girl.” She patted your cunt twice, making you twitch, before she bent down and kissed you softly.

She stood up and collected your mugs and brought them back into the kitchen, wiggling her ass at you when she felt you watching her, making you laugh.

“Can you throw some more logs on the fire, Y/N? I’ll grab us some clean blankets and pillows and we can sleep out here.”

“Yes ma’am.” You called back to her, breaking the current logs apart with the poker before adding three new ones and stoking it. You gathered your discarded clothes and the soiled blanket in a bundle and headed to the bathroom to put them in the hamper and run a damp towel against your sex to clean up, bringing another out with you as you headed back to the fire, where Hilde had piled a ridiculous amount of blankets and pillows in a massive nest for the two of you.

You sank down next to her and she drew your face to hers for a kiss. You smiled against her lips as you gently drew the soft towel you had brought with you over her cunt and along her thighs to clean her off as she gave a contented sigh.

“Stay.” She said softly, nuzzling softly into your neck as you held her against her chest and slowly sank back against the pile of cushions, giving her hair a soft kiss.

“Hilde, the road is out, I’m not going anywhere until tomorrow.”

“No, Y/N. Stay. Move here with me. I need you.” She looked up at you with genuine pleading in her eyes. You had never seen such open emotion on her face before.

You only had to think about it for a minute. The weeks between your trips were always spent planning your next visit. Thinking over what you wanted to talk to Hilde about. Your bed felt empty without her there.

“I need you too baby. I love you.” You whispered to her, tipping her chin up to look into her eyes as you gave her a gentle smile.

Her face split into a grin. “Is that a yes?”

“Of course, Hilde.”

“Oh god, Y/N, I love you too!” She drew your face down to hers and kissed you deeply, clutching you to her needily before releasing you with a grin. “I miss that pussy almost as much as it misses me.”

You laughed at that and laid back with a sigh. Hilde rested her head between your breasts and brought her hands close around your sides, pulling the thick wool blanket around the two of you tightly.

“Just make sure Miek doesn’t try to fight my sheep again.” You whispered to her, running a hand softly up and down her back.

“That was a misunderstanding.” She smiled against you as her breathing slowed and deepened, and she sunk closer to sleep.

The two of you laid there intertwined for the rest of the night, drifting off as the fire crackled and died. You had never felt so content in your life.

[rhysismydaddy]

Naughty Neighbors pt. 1 (Elriel)

Synopsis: Elain’s stuck in a dead end relationship, bored beyond belief with her life. When she befriends her brand new neighbor, it’s like taking a breath of fresh air. But with each day of friendship, she grows more and more drawn to him and the past he’s desperate to escape. His smile is all she thinks about, invading her head at the most inconvenient moments. He’s made his intentions with her perfectly clear, but she’s determined to resist his charms. She won’t allow him to turn her calm, quiet life upside down. Right?

I’M SORRY THIS HAS TAKEN SO LONG. Moving did NOT go smoothly, and my professors are taking online classes a little ~seriously~ even though they haven’t started yet lol. 

Part 2 should be out by Wednesday, and it’s in Azriel’s POV :))))) This one’s a slow burn ladies and gentlemen, so get ready for some pent up desire 

______________________________________________________________

Elain rolled over in bed, somehow too hot and cold at the same time. Gods, she was miserable. Her boyfriend was next to her, snoring loudly, and the sound did nothing to help her worsening mood. 

She was so exhausted-- when you owned a flower shop, wedding season was always hectic--but sleep had been refusing to find her for the past hour. 

It didn’t help that she had a moose-sounding man in the room. 

Reminding herself that she loved him and definitely didn’t want to strangle him in his loud ass sleep, she rolled over and pulled a pillow on her head. 

Somehow, after two years of dating, she hadn’t gotten used to how loudly Lucien snored. 

Thank the gods we don’t live together, she thought, then admonished herself for it. 

They would eventually. 

She just had to get used to it. 

The pillow over her head became suffocating, only adding to the over-heating problem, so she threw the covers off, grabbed a robe, and walked out. After going up a few flights of stairs, she found herself on the roof. 

It was the place she always went when she was stressed or sad or just needed to see the night sky. She’d even started a garden a few months ago, so she started to head over to check on it. 

But then she saw who was sitting on the bench in front of her rose bushes and paused. 

Paused and stared, because the man sitting in front of her wearing dark clothes and a smirk was both classically beautiful and dangerous. 

He was the kind of man most men would do anything not to fight and women would do anything to bed. 

Smoke curled around him, and the shadows somehow seemed to cling to his tall frame. The stranger dwarfed the small bench, large frame taking up enough space for two. Even though he was sitting, she could tell he was well over six feet. And built like a Greek god, if the way his black, long sleeve t-shirt clung to his chest was any indication.  

He was the most attractive man she’d ever seen, and that was without taking in the strong, clean shaven jaw, hazel eyes, and hair the color of spilled ink. 

And oh fuck, he was studying her, too. A shiver ran over her as she realized she was covered in just her robe. 

Her body begged her to both run far away and draw closer, and for some reason, she listened to the urge to do the latter. 

“Who are you?” she asked as she walked through the maze of flowers. 

“Who are you?” he shot back, not answering her question. Her body reacted to his voice alone, goosebumps raising at the cold but somehow soothing tone. 

A breeze caused her hair to swirl around her as she replied, “I’m Elain. What are you doing here?”

He jerked his chin at the cigarette dangling from his fingertips, but that wasn’t exactly what she’d been asking. “No, I mean what are you doing here?”

“I live here, Elain.”

She realized she shouldn’t have told him her name, because now he could say it in that sexy, very manly voice of his and it would do strange things to her sanity. 

He said her name like a lover would, soft and sensual, but also coldly amused. He sounded like he knew her, like he’d known her for years. 

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.” His eyes are laughing at her now, but he didn’t sound mean. 

"Which apartment?”

“4B.”

Elain’s eyebrows pinched together at that news. She lived in 4A and hadn’t even noticed she’d gotten a new neighbor. Then again, she’d been at work all day. “Oh. I guess we’re neighbors then.”

A small smile graced his full lips, and she studied it before forcing her eyes back to his. “Lucky me.”

Oh, gods. Was he... flirting with her? 

She didn’t even know. It had been so long since someone had that she’d forgotten what it sounded like. 

So she rolled her eyes good naturedly, leaning against the brick railing encasing the roof. 

“Sneaking out for a smoke?” His voice was like gravel and smoke, and his hazel eyes raked over her body in a way that made her shiver. 

“Couldn’t sleep.”

He nodded, then extended the cigarette to her in question. She smiled but shook her head and said, “I don’t smoke.”

“A good girl, then.” He didn’t sound at all bothered by that statement. And once again, his hazel eyes skirted down her body. “Do you want to sit down?”

There was almost no room on the bench, but it beat standing on the edge of the roof on such a breezy night, so she walked over and sat as far away from him as possible. 

It was still way too close. 

Her arm was pressed against hers, allowing her to feel the dense muscle covering it. She doubted she could wrap both hands around it completely, but she shut down the urge to try as she crossed her legs casually.

The warmth from his body seeped into her, goosebumps raising where they touched. “You’re warm,” she commented stupidly. 

“Are you cold?” he asked, hazel eyes scanning her face, then dropping slightly. 

No small amount of horror grew when she realized what he’d glanced at. She crossed her arms over her chest, then scowled when he grinned. 

Her eyebrows flew up, though, when a heavy arm landed across her shoulders and tucked her into a warm, firm side. 

Oh, gods above every place they connected was tingling. Heat rushed into her--both between her legs and from his side.

She needed a heat CT. 

“Is this your garden?” he asked, taking a puff of his cigarette and blowing the smoke away from her. 

She nodded, then realized her head was pressed against his chest. Elain pulled away slightly, then asked, “Will you tell me your name?”

His hazel eyes were dark, like molten caramel. She felt lost in him. “What will you give me in return?”

Every inch of her body went taut and loose at the same time. Her thigh was suddenly warm, and she looked down to see his hand resting on her skin. The back of his hand was covered in scars and tattoos and his palm was covered in callouses, but it was nothing but gentle and warm on her thigh. 

Her maybe-neighbor was perfectly still, his face cool and composed while he waited for her to react. But his eyes told her exactly what would happen if she leaned into him just a tiny amount. 

And gods, she wanted to. 

Something was holding her back though. A small voice was screaming at her, and a disgusting amount of guilt crept up her shoulders. Almost jumping out of her skin, she remembered whose existence she’d forgotten completely. 

Lucien.

Her boyfriend. 

The man she’d been attempting to sleep next to not an hour ago.

She pulled away, instantly missing his warmth. “I have a boyfriend,” she said unceremoniously and with about as much enthusiasm as someone declaring grandma was dead. 

His eyes went a little darker, even as the corner of his lips twitched. “Hm.”

“I should go.” That was beyond true. 

Lucien was trusting, and their relationship was relaxed, but practically snuggling with another man wasn’t right. Even if it was all she wanted to do at the moment. 

“Okay.”

“I hope we can be friends in the future,” she said, trying to maintain polite normalcy. “But only if you tell me your name.”

Once again, those amber eyes slid over her, and she was very, very grateful she’d crossed her arms. “We’re never going to be friends, Elain.”

The way he said it didn’t feel like a rejection; it felt like a challenge. Her body thrummed, even as she shook her head slightly and started back down the stairs. 

The picture of his face followed her all the way into her apartment, sticking in her head until she fell asleep with a soft smile on her face. 

~

The next morning, she woke up and had breakfast with Lucien, who hardly glanced up from his eggs as he asked, “Where’d you go last night? I heard you get up.”

Her heart started to race even though she’d done nothing wrong. Technically. Calming her voice, she said, “I went to the roof to check on the garden. Couldn’t sleep.”

Lucien just shrugged, knowing this was pretty typical for her. 

She knew she should tell him she’d met their new neighbor, but for some reason, her mouth stayed shut. Probably because she didn’t even know his name. 

It definitely wasn’t because she’d almost kissed him. 

“I have to go; I have an early meeting.” He worked at a corporate finance place downtown, so this wasn’t exactly groundbreaking. He got up from the table, navy suit slightly wrinkled, and kissed her brow. “Thanks for breakfast. I’ll come back Friday, okay?”

This also wasn’t news. He stayed at her place a few nights a week, most of the time Sunday and Friday. She didn’t go to his that often because she didn’t have a car and liked to walk to work. 

Elain nodded and smiled, then went to get ready once he’d left. 

Were twenty-four year-olds supposed to feel like this? Like they were stuck on a conveyor belt, destined to do the same thing for the rest of her life?

It sometimes felt like she’d gone to sleep and woken up in the life of a fifty-year old housewife. 

Whenever he stayed over, he liked coming home to a clean house and meal, so she cooked for him, pretending to love it, when in reality, she’d be just as happy eating takeout on the sofa. 

She greeted him with a smile, and they talked and watched TV together, then went to bed at the same time every night. 

And gods, it was starting to get boring. 

Even the sex was starting to follow a routine. It wasn’t written down, but Elain had noticed they slept together at the beginning of the month, then not at all for a few weeks. 

She missed the beginning of the relationship, when they were so in love and crazy about each other they couldn’t keep their hands off each other.  

She didn’t expect fireworks after being together for so long, but... it had only been two years. And despite never mentioning it, Lucien was bound to propose at some point. 

Could she do this for the rest of her life? Go to work, come home, cook, go to bed? Did she love him enough for fifty years of the same routine?

That thought shocked her. Of course she did. 

He was perfect for her. He didn’t keep secrets, had a good job, and treated her with kindness and respect. So what if the fizzle had worn off? 

So what if she got more turned on sitting on a cold bench next to a complete stranger than after actual foreplay with her boyfriend?

It meant nothing. 

At least, that’s what she told herself as she put on a light blue dress and sandals and fixed her hair. 

Once she was ready, she walked outside and started down the street to her store. It was only a five minute walk, one of her favorite things about her apartment’s location. 

“Elain,” came a low voice from right next to her. 

Surprised, she turned to see her brand new neighbor walking next to her. Just like last night, he was dressed in dark jeans and a black t-shirt. But with the light she could make out his features better, and it did nothing to sway her of how attractive she found him. 

“Good morning.”

He smiled, and she found herself mimicking the expression. 

I mean, when someone who looked like a villainous Prince Charming smiled at you, you smiled back. 

“Better now,” he told her in a low tone, still smirking. 

“You’re a horrible flirt,” she laughed, brushing off how the comment made her skin tingle. 

“Horrible?” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette, lighting one as they walked. “I’ll have to step up my game then. You look beautiful today.”

“I amend my statement. You’re a mediocre flirt.”

He blew a cloud of smoke around him and rolled his eyes, and she grinned agian. She did that a lot around him, she realized. It was easy to. 

There was just something alluring about him. He was dark and cold and beyond mysterious, but also sensual in a way she’d never seen before. It both threw her off guard and made her want to be reckless for once in her life. 

“Where are you going?”

“Work. I own the flower shop down on third street,” she told him proudly. The shop was her life’s work, and it made her insanely happy to tell people about it. 

“The Archeron?” he asked, and her brows shot up in surprise. “I work across the street. Start today, actually.”

“Oh, at the tattoo place?” 

The idea of getting a needle stabbed into her skin over and over again made her nauseous. 

Azriel noticed her expression. “You ever come in, I’ll give you a discount.”

“I’ll absolutely never take you up on the offer, but thank you. If you ever want a lovely bouquet, feel free to come on in.”

His hazel eyes met hers. “And what if I just want to see you? Do I still have to buy flowers?” There was a blush on her cheeks, and his eyes darkened when he saw it. “I like making you blush.”

Gods above, the man wasn’t giving up. 

She was surprised to find she didn’t want him to. 

She deflected anyway. “Fine. You’re an average flirt.” 

“Oh, baby girl, you have no idea.” They were somehow already in front of her shop, and he looked through the window and grimaced. “On second thought, if I want to see you, I’ll just knock on your door. Lot of flowers in there.”

“That’s kind of the point,” she reminded him, blocking out the picture of Azriel coming over to her apartment. “If I want to see you, who should I ask for?”

Humor flickered across his hard features, but he still shot down the request. 

“If you need me, I’ll be across the street encouraging people to make horrible decisions.”

Laughing, she unlocked the store and watched him walk away. Somehow, even though it was broad daylight, he was a spot of darkness on the street. 

She didn’t even know his name, but she was tempted to follow him, just to see his smile again. If seeing him smile made her feel that happy, how would it be to hear his laugh? 

More than anything, she wanted to find out.

And Elain knew right there that he’d been completely right: they would never be friends. 

______________________________________________________________

Part 2

@cursebreaker29 @sjmships @starrynightsbooks @lovemollywho @januarystears @astreia-oniria @wineywitch202 @captainthefangirlofhp @perseusannabeth @girl-who-reads-the-books @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @a-bit-of-a-cactus @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @savemesoon8 @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace @poisonous00

[infernwetrust]

Luke Langdon [Michael Langdon x Fem Reader] Pt 3.

PART 1

PART 2

Summary: The one where you and Michael have a child together, but like most relationships, there are parenting differences.

Warnings: angst, swearing, blood, mentions of cutting

WC: 1.4k

A/N: Last part of this 3 part series. I enjoyed writing this very much. Part 1 is important to understanding this final part. Thank you for reading! -Juno

"Daaaaaaaaaaaddddddddyyyyyyyyy!" the young bright eyed girl screamed as she ran into the house, eyes full of panic. You and Michael sat on the brand new couch he had gotten you for Christmas. He watched how you eyed it in one of your monthly magazines that you got in the mail. Luke had just turned 16 a few weeks ago and was thriving more than ever, until today that was. The both of you were use to your 13 year old daughter's, Kayleen, screams. Usually her and Luke would get along during play for the first hour before something went down between the two.

"Same old, baby girl?" you asked, eyes not darting away from the television. Your favorite show was on and you didn't want to miss a beat.

"Whatever it is." Michael chimed in, eyes not looking up from his laptop as he continued working. "You and Luke will figure it out. No games today, hmmm?"

"He's laying there! Not moving! I don't think he's breathing either!"

"Oh like he always does?" Michael glanced up at her, becoming a little bit more concerned when he saw her facial expression. There were tears in her eyes and she looked pale.

"I lifted up his eye lids and his eyes are like.. red! I know you said that black eyes were fine, but they're red. And dad he's really not breathing!"

"Shit." Michael said, tossing his computer to the side and flying out of the chair. You followed behind him quickly, Kayleen still a crying mess. "Shit. Shit. Shit."

Making his way outside, Michael was no stranger to what his son had done. He glanced at the giant sigil of baphomet that his son lay almost lifeless in, but he could still hear a faint heart beat.

"I told him about fucking trying that spell without me." Michael said, quickening his pace to reach his son, unbuttoning his shirt and stripping from it along the way. You froze, shocked at the fact that your first born could be dead and then you lost it. A screaming mess, you were. Michael quickly dropped to his knees, retrieving his blade out of his pocket. He wasted no time cutting into his skin, dragging the blade up his arm, causing him to bleed. He did the same to his other arm, clenching his jaw. Overwhelmed by the sight, your daughter fainted and that caused you to only scream louder, much to Michael's annoyance.

"Y/N PLEASE!" he shouted. "Luke will be fine! Kayleen will be fine! Go back into the house if you can't keep it together long enough for me to even attempt to do this!" You hushed, your loud screams now becoming just muffled whined as you kneeled down next to your daughter, placing her head in your lap. Michael then did the same thing to Luke's arms and after rubbing his hands with his own blood, he mixed it with Luke's before firmly placing his hand on his son's chest. He fell silent for a moment, his eyes going black as he desperately searched for and tried to communicate with his son.

"Come on..." Michael breathed out. "Follow my voice, baby boy. Follow my voice." A tear fell from his eye. Luke was in such a bad place. Why would he even think of trying to go back to some place like this. The Murder House? What could he possibly be searching for there. "My sweet little stupid boy... why?" He was almost to Luke, his heart beat growing stronger, when he was knocked out of it, his eyes turning back to normal and his wounds closing.

"No." Michael said. "No no no." He stood up, hands in a fist. "YOU WILL NOT TAKE MY FUCKING SON FROM ME." He dragged Luke out of his sigil that he created, laying him to the side before creating a fresh one. He dragged Luke's body into that one, falling to his knees once again.

"I'm not gonna let you go, boy. I promise." Michael choked, trying to hold back his tears, knowing that his window was closing and that he had limited time. He cut himself up the arms again, this time, taking it a step further, drawing a mini sigil on his chest with the blade, doing the same for Luke. Grabbing his son's hand, he pressed it to his chest, him doing the same. "Come on. Come on. Let me in." His eyes turned black again and he found himself back in the same spot, his closest to Luke he's been. All you could do was watch in horror. The sigils, all the blood, your daughter who was still passed out in your lap.

"Please..." you whispered as tears continued to fall from your eyes. "Please not my son..." You rocked back and forth, holding your daughter close to you.

"Follow my voice, Luke." Michael said. "Come on, son. You're almost out. You're almost out." And then bam, Luke shot up, choking on his own blood and gasping for air. "Ssssh. Ssssh. It's okay, I'm here." He threw his bloody arms around his father, clinging to him for dear life. He already knew that he was going to be in a world of trouble. Michael never liked to discipline the kids when he was angry. He would wait until he calmed down and then he would hand out punishments.

"Im s- ss sorry, dad." he said, choking on his tears as well. "I k- know you told me not to, but I just wanted to see it all. The past. I wanted to understand you better. I was just trying to learn about you that's all. I'm so sorry."

"Hush." Michael said, helping Luke to his feet. He waved his hand over his body, immediately closing any wounds and then doing the same to himself. "We'll talk about this later. Go to your room."

"But dad-,"

"Now." He didn't question it any further, scrambling to his feet, running to give you a hug before darting in the house and into his room. Michael rushed over to you and Kayleen, kneeling beside you.

"I'm getting real tired of being on my knees for the wrong reasons." he chuckled at you, hoping to relieve some of the stress that you were under. He put his hands against Kayleen's forehead and was met with a sigh of relief. "She'll be okay, Y/N. I promise. Nothing a little cold compress and some tea won't fix, yeah?" You were speechless, staring at the ground blankly. You can't believe what you just saw, but Michael understood. He gave you a kiss on your forehead before scooping his daughter up into his arms and bringing her inside to her room where he laid her down, applying a cold compress to her forehead before tucking her in.

When he came back outside, you were still speechless. He lifted you up off the ground too, carrying you bridal style back into the house.

"Y/N." he called out to you, trying to break the trance you got stuck in. He called out to you multiple times and when they failed he had to resort to his magic to snap you out of it. "Hellooooo. Earth to Y/N."

"Huh?" you asked, looking around frantically, about to start screaming again. Michael could sense that and immediately put his hand to your mouth, listening to your thoughts.

"Everything is okay." he said.  "Yes, the children are fine. Kayleen is resting and I told Luke to go to his room. I'm going to take my hand off of your mouth now, but you have to promise me that you will not scream or do anything to alert the kids." You nodded and watched as Michael slowly removed his hand from your mouth. You immediately jumped up, wrapping your arms around him in a deep hug, face nuzzled into his chest.

"I thought we lost the both of them, Mike. I can't lose my babies.. not because Luke wants to be so hard headed."

"I won't let the boy kill himself. That I can promise you, my love. As long as I live and boy do I plan to be around for a long time, nothing will ever happen to our kin. Plus, the boys a fighter. He got that from me."

"Not funny." you said, shoving him lightly in the chest and wiping away at your tears.

"Seriously, Y.N. That's another one of my promises to you. I will protect you and our children." He kissed your forehead, running his hands through you hair before pulling you closer to him. "Cry no more. It's okay now."

And you'll rule the world. They'll bow to you and attend to your every need That I will make sure of, Luke.

Taglist: @jimmason @angelicmichael @whatcodysaid

[binniebutter]

Under The Wisteria

Pairing: Choi Soobin x fem!reader

Genre: Angst Angst Angst; fluff ig, dystopian au

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: violence, gun violence, blood, major character death, I think that’s all

Summary: You just wanted to be with him forever, but you didn’t mean under the Wisteria tree.

Credit: beta read by @nottodayjjk and @inmyfelix from @txtarcadianet. Thanks so much babes!

a/n: I messed up the tags so I deleted and now I’m posting again🥲 but yea this is a birthday gift for @unlocktxt​ also i can’t write kissing scenes don’t make fun of me.

“Happy birthday to you,” you jumped in your seat a little, startled by your friend’s mom’s sudden singing, “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Y/n, happy birthday to youuuuu.” She walked into the dining room with a single vanilla cupcake in her hands, a candle sporting the number 18 on top. There was no icing or sprinkles on the cupcake yet it still looked ravishing to you. The government only allowed for sweets on special occasions, like birthdays or weddings, and even then it could only be so many calories. This was the government's way of getting rid of obesity in Lamore, along with other, harsher, methods.

“Thank you, Mrs. Johnson. It means so much to me.” You looked up at her and could see the sparkles in her eyes. That was one thing you loved about Mrs. Johnson, she always had sparkles in her eyes and a positive outlook on this fucked-up place we call Earth. Even after the incident…

“Oh dear, it was my pleasure! And how many times have I told you to call me mom, darling?” A lot. Almost every day, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to do that. Every time you looked at her, you not only saw the sparkles, but you also saw her.

Amelia.

You see, Amelia was your best friend. You had known her since you were 3. You guys did everything together, homework, parties, shopping. Everything. Your families were also close to each other. So close that she called your mom “mama” and you called her mom “mom”. You loved each other dearly and made a promise to be best friends forever, always wearing promise rings on your pinkies. Until one fateful day. It had been all your fault. You wanted ice cream so badly that day, even though you knew that you could only have it on your birthday. You didn’t care though, begging your mother, who had taken Amelia and yourself to the park that day, to get some from the vendor.

“Please, mom. Please please please with a cherry on top,” you pleaded with your hands clasped in front of you. “Please it’s so hot I could melt. You wouldn’t want your only daughter to melt, do you?”

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re not my only daughter. I have Amelia too,” your mom childishly stuck out her tongue at you, causing you to look at your best friend with a pout on your face. Immediately, Amelia knew what to do.

“But mama, I want some ice cream too,” she said with a pout that you knew your mother couldn’t resist. And you were right because her resolve started wavering and soon the three of you were heading towards the ice cream vendor located in the middle of the park.

“Hello, sir. Three ice creams, please!” The man at the stand eyed you skeptically before asking who’s birthday it was. You replied before your mother could even open her mouth.

“Mine! Can I please have a cookie and cream ice cream with a waffle cone?” The man had seen how enthusiastic you were and assumed you weren’t lying. After hearing Amelia and your mother’s orders, he immediately got to work and soon enough you were walking away from him, licking your ice cream.

“Come on, Amelia, let’s go to the swings! Last one there is a rotten egg,” you took off towards the swings, leaving Amelia shouting about how you had cheated. Once you both got there, you sat right beside each other, kicking your legs back and forth while gossiping about some boys in your class. In the middle of you telling a story about one dude, a little girl about 5 years old came up to you two asking if it was one of your birthdays. You both had forgotten all about the Capitol rules and answered her truthfully, no.

“Oh, ok,” she bid you goodbye and ran away. You turned back to Amelia and shrugged your shoulders, going back to your story. You both were so absorbed in the story that you didn’t notice the little girl, or what you thought was a little girl, going to tell her mother. But one person did notice, your mom. She saw the tattoo on the girl’s arm and immediately knew who, what, she was. A spy for the Capitol.

Immediately, your mother made her way over to the two of you, telling you that it was time to leave. You should've listened to her. Instead, you were your stubborn self and insisted that you stay a little longer. Amelia had always been the more obedient one out of the two of you and seeing how urgent your mother was on getting you to leave, tried to convince you. Again, you should’ve listened to her. But you didn’t.

“Excuse me,” a voice sounded from behind your mom and you saw her face become as pale as a ghost. She turned around and was immediately tased. Her body convulsed on the floor for a few seconds before she stilled on the grass. You screamed in shock, drawing the attention of the other park users. Amelia grabbed your hand in fear, too scared to do anything. You squeezed her hand to comfort her but she could tell that you were just as scared. The woman stepped over your mother’s body and took a step towards the two of you, which in return to you took a step backward.

“Now, which one of you lied, and said it was their birthday? You both should know that Lenore doesn’t allow liars here,” she had a smile on her face the whole time she was speaking, but instead of comforting you, it terrified you. After a few moments of silence, her smile dropped into a scowl. “Well,” she barked at you causing you to shrink in fear, “Who was it? Or am I going to have to punish both of you?” Your eyes widened in shock. Both of us. You couldn’t let Amelia get hurt. Little did you know, Amellia had the same thoughts. And so before you opened your mouth, she spoke.

“Me, ma’am. It was me.” Although her voice was quiet, you could hear the firmness in it.

“What!?!? Amelia, no!” But alas it was too late. She had been tased the moment the words had left her mouth. You watched in horror as your best friend fell limp on the grass. You couldn’t scream. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t even cry as you watched her eyes roll to the back of her head. Even after the cleanup crew came to take their bodies away, you were still standing in the same spot, looking at the place where your mother and best friend had just been. You didn’t want to believe they were gone. They couldn’t be. It wasn’t until you felt arms wrap around you and bring you into an embrace did you break down. Your mother and your best friend, your platonic soulmate, the only one who knows you better than yourself, were gone. You sobbed and sobbed into the person’s shirt. You couldn’t care less that they were a stranger, you needed someone. After you calmed down you looked up at your savior for the first time. It was a boy around your age, maybe a few years older.

“Thank you,” you paused, feeling silly for not even knowing his name.

“Soobin, Choi Soobin,” he answered with a small smile on his face. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”

“Forever?” you asked with a small sniffle.

“Forever.”

You met Choi Soobin when you were 10 years old.

After you finished celebrating with Mrs. Johnson, which consisted of splitting the cupcake in half and opening the gift she got you, a brand new pair of workout sneakers, you both headed up to your rooms. It was almost curfew time and you knew the Capitol Workers were making their way around for nightly checks. You remembered reading in a history book, that somehow was missed when all the books of the past were burned, that curfew back then was way different and that not everyone had a curfew. The person with a curfew just had to be home by that time. No random stranger was coming into your room to see if you were sleeping. How lucky.

You tensed up as you heard the front door open. He’s here. You didn’t know your Capitol Worker well. You didn’t even know what he looked like. All you knew was that he’s a guy and he comes to your room every night to check if you’re asleep.

You closed your eyes and willed your heart to slow down to a normal pace. Your room door opened and you could hear the heavy sound of the combat boots that all CW’s were forced to wear. They took a few steps toward you, which was unusual, and you held your breath. This is it. I’m gonna die. They’re gonna know that I’m faking-

You paused in your thoughts at the sound of the boots walking towards the door and it being closed. You let out a quiet sigh of relief.

“Jesus, that was scary,” you muttered, still scared of them hearing you. You continued to lay in bed even after you heard the front door shut. After waiting a few more minutes, you got up and headed towards your closet. You put on some dark clothing before grabbing your backpack and heading to your window. Looking out the window carefully, you saw the CW’s moving on to the next street.

“Perfect.” You opened up your window and stuck a leg out. You shivered a little bit as it was chilly out. With one hand still holding your window you pulled your other leg outside, now sitting on the sill. With your other hand, you reached for the closest branch of the cherry blossom tree in your backyard. Using the hand still on the window, you closed it shut, making sure the sound wasn’t loud. Now you were dangling from the tree. Expertly, you swung yourself up onto the branch, having done this a million times before. Once on the tree, you were able to climb down safely, without being seen. Great. Looking left and right, making sure no one saw you, you headed down the pathway that you’ve traveled frequently. The pathway to the love of your life.

Who, you may ask. Well, none other than your savior.

“Hey Y/n,” you didn’t let him finish as you engulfed him in a big hug. You didn’t let go for a while, squeezing him so tight he almost couldn’t breathe. You hugged him as if it was your last hug and Soobin was rapidly getting worried that it might be. You could feel his heartbeat increase and pulled away slightly to reassure him.

“I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong, I just missed you.” At your words, Soobin calmed down and a shy smile overtook his face. You smiled widely at his shyness. He’s so cute!

“Babe, we saw each other today at school.”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same and you know it. We’re not allowed to hug each other or kiss each other.” A devilish smirk appeared on your face as an idea popped into your head. “Like this!” You cupped Soobin’s face in your hands and brought it to yours, leaving a quick peck on his lips. You laughed at the shocked expression on his face.

Anyone who knew Soobin knew that he was timid. He didn’t speak a lot in school unless he was called on. He sat by himself during lunch, which worried you a little because you didn’t want him to be lonely, but anytime you expressed your concerns he reassured you that he likes the quietness. Which usually wouldn’t soothe your worries, but Soobin is different when with you.

With you, he talks exceedingly, maybe too much if you were being honest. With you, he wasn’t afraid to laugh his boisterous laugh. With you, he could be himself and he was grateful to you for that.

“Yah! You can’t just d-do that!” Even though it was dark and you couldn’t see it, you knew that there was a bright blush on Soobin’s face.

“Why? Aren’t I your girlfriend?” you teased. You loved teasing Soobin. It was your favorite pastime. Though at your words, you could feel the mood change. It was like a breeze came by and took away the lightness of your banter.

“But you aren’t.” The street lamp cast a light on his face for a moment and you could see the sadness etched on his face. He was right. You weren’t his girlfriend, not technically. The government has this rule that no one is allowed to date until they are 30. Apparently, it deals with overpopulation. Man, fuck The Capitol.

“Y-yeah. You’re right. I’m sorry,” you said looking at your feet. Soobin looked at you with sad eyes. He hated seeing you like this which is why when the two of you met up, you never talked about this. But it was bound to come up sooner or later. He lifted your chin with his thumb and index finger, forcing you to look him in the eyes.

“I love you. Let’s not talk about this tonight. It’s your birthday!” He placed a kiss on your forehead, then your cheeks, which were blushing red at his affection, one on your nose, and lastly he placed a passionate kiss on your lips. You immediately kissed back, shocked.

It was different, not like the small pecks the two of you share. It lasted longer and you could feel all the emotions that he was trying to convey in the kiss. You closed your eyes and deepened the kiss, hoping to show him how much you loved him. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you more into him. When your lungs felt as if they were to collapse if you didn’t stop, you pulled away, a daze in your eyes. Looking at Soobin, you saw his usual small, crooked smile on his face.

“Happy birthday, love. Forever?”

“Forever.”

“What if we run away?”

It’s been about a month since your birthday and currently, you have your head in Soobin’s lap, gazing up at him. He has his back resting on the wisteria tree behind him, a book in one hand while the other runs through your hair. His big, round glasses are adorned on the bridge of his nose, sliding down every few seconds. His blue bangs are covering his eyes today, not gelled back like usual. He looks like an idol Harry Potter adorable, you think. He should leave his hair down more often. It’s when he moves his hand from your hair to turn the page that you pop the question, causing him to stop and freeze.

“W-what?” he asks while looking down at you. His head is tilted, almost as if he didn’t hear you properly. But he did. And you know that. “Y-you want us to r-run away!?”

“Ok, I know it sounds crazy but we both love each other dearly, right?” He nods and you continue. “And it’s not like we have anything here weighing us down. Plus this country is horrible. I hate it and so do you. So let’s just leave. We can go to Averna, rent a home, start a family, grow old together.” Your voice slows down and you start sounding less sure of yourself once you see the look on Soobin’s face. “Do you not want that…”

“Of course I want that!” You flinch a little at the sound of his voice. In all of the 8 years that you’ve known Soobin, he has never raised his voice at you. Seeing your flinch, he lowers his volume. “Of course, I do Y/n, but how are we supposed to run away? There’s a tracker in our necks. The only reason we haven’t been tracked yet is cause they think we’re sleeping. If we leave, someone will report it. They could easily find us and bring us back….or worse.”

You know what he means by worse. The Capitol hates when citizens break the rules. You’ll end up the same as Amelia and your mother. You shudder at the memory of their limp bodies being carried off the grass. You push those thoughts to the back of your head as you open your mouth to speak again but you are cut off.

“No, Y/n, I’m serious. We are not running away. We’ll be killed. And what about Mrs. Johnson, huh? Do you really want her to lose another daughter?”

His words hit you hard. You look at him like a gaping fish, opening your mouth repeatedly but words never come out. He is right, of course, he is right. But you had always been the stubborn one.

“I DON’T CARE, SOOBIN!” Now he is the one to flinch back in shock. “I am tired of living in this terrible place, aren’t you? We’re treated like crap here, having to follow all these stupid rules. I wanna be able to eat candy whenever I want. I wanna be able to go out at night without having to be sneaky. I want to marry you, Soobin, before I turn freaking 30. And I can’t get any of these in Lamore. So let’s leave. Please,” you beg. You thought your words would be all that was needed to convince Soobin but you are wrong.

“Y/n. I love you so much. But I can’t do this, I can’t allow you to do this. We can’t. They’ll kill us once they find us and-”

“I’m going, Soobin. With or without you,” you tell him while standing up and he knows from the firmness in your voice that your mind is set. “Tomorrow night. I’m leaving tomorrow night at sunset. If you want to join me, meet me here, under the Wisteria.” You turn around to leave and take a few steps before Soobin’s words make you pause in your tracks.

“Forever?” It is a last resort. He thinks maybe he can change your mind. But you don’t even look back before continuing on your journey home. Soobin looks down dejectedly at his shoes before standing up and walking in the opposite direction you have.

What neither of you had noticed, was a certain Capitol Worker watching you the whole time. 

“She’s leaving tomorrow at sunset.” “...” “Don’t worry, I have a plan.”

The next day at school, you had expected to see Soobin in your first period, sitting in the front row as usual. Red flag number one should’ve been when you noticed that he wasn’t there when you walked in. He’s always early. You brushed it off though. Red flag number two was when the bell rang and the teacher started the class and Soobin still wasn’t here. Soobin’s never late to class. Again you pushed the thought away, focusing on what the teacher was writing on the board.

It’s the end of the day and still no sign of Soobin. You were extremely worried now and had reason to be. Even when he had the flu he came to school, albeit he was sent home immediately. You forced yourself to calm down, willing the worry that was bubbling in the bottom of your stomach to go down. It’s ok, you’ll see him tonight. You were certain he would be there. He loves you, there’s no way he wouldn’t be there. Boy were you in for a shock.

At about 10 minutes to sunset, you headed to the Wisteria tree which had quickly become your safe haven. A place where you could truly be yourself with your lover. A place where many kisses were shared, many memories were made. You smiled at the thought. But your smile was wiped off your face at the sight before your eyes.

Because there was Soobin, tied up to the tree with a gag in his mouth, and a boy around your age, maybe younger, next to him. His eyes were wide with worry and fear, for his life or yours you couldn’t tell. What the hell is happening?

“Oh hello, Y/n dear. Nice of you to finally join the party.” The boy spoke. “Do you know who I am?” Slowly, you shook your head no. His lips turned upwards into a smirk. He was fairly attractive and if you weren’t in love with Soobin, you would swoon. “My name is Kang Taehyun. Your CW.” A gasp slipped from your mouth.

“M-my, my what!? Y-you’re the one who does my curfew check? But you’re just a kid.” When the word left your mouth a hard glare was thrown your way. “N-nevermind, not a kid. Got it.”

“Good work, Taehyun.” A  feminine voice resounded from behind you. You turned in the direction of the voice and froze. No. Right in front of your eyes was the same woman you had met almost a decade ago. The same woman that had held a taser to your mother and best friends’ necks. The same woman who had stepped over their lifeless bodies as she had left the park. The same woman who had smiled at you from over her shoulder, as if she were happy that you had no one left. “Y/n, we meet once again. Oh, what’s with that frown? Aren’t you happy to see me?” She mocked you. She had killed your family and she dared to mock you. You felt a bolt of anger surge through your body. You got ready to lunge at her but stopped at the cock of a gun.

“Uh, uh, uh. Take a step back or else I’ll blow your brains out.” You smirked. You weren’t afraid of dying. It would’ve been worth it to hurt the bitch.

“I don’t care. She deserves to feel pain. It’s not as strong as the pain of losing your family but close enough.” You took a step forward your arm raised to throw a punch at her, but then Taehyun uttered words you never wanted to ever hear.

“Maybe you don’t value your life, but I’m sure lover boy over here does.” You stopped in your tracks for the nth time that day, turning around to see Taehyun’s gun pointed straight at Soobin’s head. You looked into his eyes and saw nothing but fear and you knew that your eyes reflected his. When all you did was continue to stare at Soobin, Taehyun started to become impatient and shot up into the air. You jumped at the booming sound and looked over at him. “Next shot will be in his head.” 

“P-please. What do you want? I’ll give you anything, just please, don’t hurt him,” your voice was shaky as you begged for his life. He can’t die, you won’t allow it. “K-kill me. Please kill me instead. Spare him.” At your words, Soobin tried his best to break free from his restraints. He struggled and struggled until Taehyun punched him in the face, forcing him to stop and causing you to scream in anguish.

“NOOOO!”  The pain in your voice could be heard from a mile away. Your sobs echoing in the darkness. You have never cried as hard as this. “PLEASE I BEG OF YOU STOP! STOP PLEASE. LEAVE HIM ALONE, TAKE ME. HURT ME.” You never imagined that you would be in this situation. Watching Soobin, the love of your life, your forever, in pain. Blood dripped from his nose and you cringed at the sight.

“Oh darling, we plan to. But first, why don’t you enlighten us on why you want to leave Lamore?” The silky smooth voice behind you spoke again. How does she know that? She must’ve read your mind because she answered your question right after. “Taehyun here has been following you, getting intel on you, for about a month now. You’re a sneaky one, aren’t you?”

A month? Why only a month? And they both must be mind-readers as Taehyun answered you next. “Your breath. The night of your birthday. It was too fast, almost as if you were nervous. And what would you have to be nervous about if you were sleeping?” His eyebrow quirked up a little as he asked the question. “So I came closer than I usually do to make sure I was seeing correctly. I was, it turns out.” So that’s why he took more steps towards you than usual. You knew something was up.

“So what, you followed me here. And you’ve been following me this whole time?”

“Precisely. Now answer Miss Paige’s question. Why do you want to leave Lamore?” You glared at the both of them, your stubborn self not answering. “Oh, no answer? Alright,” as he said that, Taehyun pointed his gun at Soobin’s leg and pulled the trigger. A deafening boom ringing in your ears but you didn’t hear. All you heard was Soobin’s horrifying scream. He’s in pain. And it’s my fault. 

You watched as blood spurred from the love of your life’s leg and you saw how he stumbled a little at the loss of support. I did this. 

“I-if I tell you everything, everything. Will you leave Soobin alone? And get him to a hospital?”

“See, darling. That’s not gonna work. Taehyun here, he’s bloodthirsty. He needs to kill at the sight of blood.” The fuck is wrong with this dude? Yea, definitely not attracted to him anymore. “So one of you here is gonna have to die.” Her creepy smile never left her face.

“O-ok, kill me. Not Soobin, me,” you said the words quietly, hoping that Soobin wouldn’t hear you. But even in his loopy state, he heard. He started struggling against his binds once again. You made eye contact with him and put on a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. You hoped to calm him but did the opposite. Worry pooled in his eyes and you looked away, knowing what you had to do. “Promise me. Swear that you won’t harm him anymore.”

“Alright. I swear on my daughter that I won’t harm lover boy.” And so you told them. You told them how much you hated the Capitol and Lamore in general. You told them how you loved Soobin and wanted to be with him forever. You told them how you planned to run away to Arena but Soobin didn’t want to. You told them everything. And when you were finally finished, you closed your eyes, awaiting death. You heard the sound of the gun and smiled. I’ll see you soon, Amelia, mom. But after a few moments of no pain, you opened your eyes. And screamed at the sight.

Soobin. With a bullet lodged in his head. You rushed over to him, your hands hovering over his body, too scared to touch him. You sobbed even harder than the first time you met him, your wails even causing Paige to feel sympathy for a moment. But only for a moment. You wheeled your head towards her, rage in your eyes. 

“You promised! You promised you wouldn’t kill him! You swore on your daughter, you lying bitch.” You screamed at her, feeling another part of your heart break. You lost one half of your heart at 10 years old and now, you lost the other half. You had a heart no more, all that was left was a hole in your chest. 

“Fun fact,” she leaned close to whisper in your ear, “ I don’t have a daughter.”

That must’ve been your breaking point because you wrapped your hands around her neck. Now you were the bloodthirsty one. But before you could even see a glimpse of pain in her eyes, a shot rang out. You looked down at your shirt, seeing a pool of red seep out. You smirked. It worked. I get to be with my family now.

You stumbled backward, ending beside Soobin, your back resting on the Wisteria tree that you used to call home. You leaned your head on his shoulder, thinking about the last thing he said to you. 

“Forever?”

And as you closed your eyes, you answered him.

“Forever.”

TXT Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[glitchstoxicwaste]

hello! i was wondering if i could have a platonic and a romantic match up? or either or, whatever strikes you!

i’m 22, a cancer sun & moon with taurus rising! pronouns are they/them or any other respectfully!! im 5’5, wear circle glasses full time bc i hate contacts and i like to call myself bird boned bc i’ve always been thin. i have myself my last haircut, so i just have shaggy dark brown hair right now. i have several piercings and a collarbone tattoo(it’s a 🔪!): i have three in both ear and a septum, i’d love more. I would say my aesthetic is all about comfort and like. your boyfriends oversized lounge wear and midwestern emo thrift clothes. lots of dark colors and gem tones. my go-to shoes are docs or slip on vans, i also don’t wear much make up or jewelry but love/always have on earrings!

i’m pretty quiet and reserved, but i would say my brand of love once i’m comfortable with a person is like, 45% gentle loving bullying and 20% dumb jokes and 35% fussing over you. i’m low energy and love being lazy, but i also like to get a little sun and nature and go on walks. low exterior hiking is also a favorite. i love exploring places, whether it be like exploring a new shop or like, an old barn that i saw while driving haha. soft music, my cat luna, working in ink and colored pencils, reading, smoking (🍃) are some of my favorite things. i have very little experience with romantic relationships and i can never tell when someone is flirting with me until someone else points it out. i’m kinda awkward with receiving physical affection from anyone but i do love it!! just not very good at it. in general, i’m good at listening to others and comforting them, very bad at talking about myself or my feelings or asking for help. i’d rather die lol. i’m pretty independent and enjoy alone time, but i was very used to taking care of others while growing up (emotional support eldest child). teasing is my favorite form of showing affection, but i know that’s not for everyone so i try check in with the people around me. i just wanna have a good time and not hurt anybody else in the process. patience is what i usually like the most in others. thank you!! hope your day is swell dude!!

Thanks! You too my guy!

Your partner is:

Stu Macher!

Dude thinks your glasses are dorky as hell and will tell you that lovingly

Your aesthetic is cute to him tbh, you wanna wear his clothes? You got it, you don’t wanna wear his clothes? Too bad you got them now.

His heart jolted out of his chest seeing how it was down to your knees, the collar slightly over your shoulder, and the sleeves of his sweater was hiding your hands. Squealed when you adjusted them so your fingers were out of the sleeves, he’s dead, good job lol.

Show him the tattoo, if you don’t know about him and Billy being Gf he will ask if it was from your favorite horror movie or murderer. If you do know about them being GF he will jokingly ask if it was for him, if you say yes? I’ll lend you my old Wheelchair, you’ll need it.

He will tell Billy, Billy will act like he doesn’t care but this guy wants to see it and is jealous because Sidney would never do that to show her love and support I’m sorry I hate Sidney so much

Stu will ask if you want a three-some with you two and Billy, he’s mostly joking about it but wouldn’t be against it if you agreed.

With how calm you are you could get along with Billy, and to him his s/o and his best friend and the other half of GF getting along means the world to him.

Playfully bully him back cause he does it too, he wouldn’t dare someone who couldn’t handle his love language.

Tell him a dumb joke and it will be a war between you two for hours I swear.

Lazy days mean movie marathons, hope you don’t mind Billy coming over.

On dates he will take you to abandoned places, on the roof is a picnic set up.

Knowing you draw, he will be relentless with asking you to draw him, Billy, GF, and other killers from movies he loves.

You will also find Luna and Stu curled on the couch or the bed napping together, her paw wrapped in his hand cause he is an animal person I HC it-

He will smoke with you if you let him.

He will flirt and will be touching you in some way 24/7, dudes a cuddly leech, he ADORES physically affection, he’s always touching Billy after all.

He respects when you need space, just tell him when and he will either stick around in case you need him or will go and hang out with Billy cause it’s his thing.

He will slowly break you out of your shell, pushing you past your comfort zone slowly but not too much.

He also teases people affectionately, he loves when you do it back, in his eyes its a cute couple thing.

[purplesurveys]

1240

Are you better at cooking dinners or making cakes/biscuits/sweets?  I can’t make any dish. I wonder when I’ll get my ass up and start learning...

Have you ever cut someone else’s hair?  I wouldn’t dare; I have no skills in that department at all.

Who was the last guest in your house and what were they staying for?  Angela and Hans came over so we can watch Sowoozoo. 

How many long term relationships have you been in?  One.

Do you sleep with all the lights out, or do you leave a lamp or even the television on?  My default is lights out, but sometimes I’ll fall asleep with my night lamp still on and that’s fine too.

Who is one person you have forgiven, but still have not “forgotten” what they have done?  I don’t really do forgiving.

Are you a fan of Lana Del Rey?  No. I’ve tried listening to her songs but I find them too slow for my liking.

Do you know your blood type?  It’s O but I keep forgetting what specific type.

Do you know your mother’s birthday?  Yes.

Have you got your period at the moment?  It’s on its last few days.

Have you ever been pregnant?  Nopes.

How old were you when you first went on a plane?  I was around 10 or 11, can’t remember exactly. But it was in 2009 and we headed to Boracay.

Have you ever had to take out a loan for anything?  No. OMG, adult activity I don’t quite understand just yet hfdhfkdjfhdf.

Are both of your blood parents still in your life?  Yeah they’re both grumbling right now just outside of my room because the power went out lmfao.

When was the last time you went apple picking?  I’ve never done this. Apples don’t grow here.

Someone asked you what you wanted, what would you say?  My pay for the last two weeks haha, but that’s not coming until Friday.

Have you ever been drunk at school or work?  No, I wouldn’t dare. I’m pretty unpredictable when I get drunk, so I’d rather stay safe haha. I’ve worked while tipsy, but it had been outside of work hours.

How many bedrooms are in your house?  4. One for each kid, then my parents’.

Are you smart about computers?  Nah.

Have you ever played Just Dance for Wii?  We didn’t have the game on our Wii, but I’ve played Just Dance before, just at other peoples’ houses.

Do you own a Xbox 360?  We were a Playstation household.

Would you ever do a sex tape for a million dollars?  Erm, sure, whatever.

So, do you need a nap?  I think I should be taking one for the sake of my health, but I won’t.

What would you rather be doing?  I stumbled upon a Facebook post of this newly-opened store in Greenhills that exclusively sells photocards and I wanna head the fuck over there rn with Angela. That store concept is practically unheard of so it’s a big deal and I wanna go there as I’m 100% sure the BTS ones would sell out pretty fast. But they heightened the stupid COVID protocols yet again and we have to stay at home, so there’s that.

What sport are you the best at?  Table tennis.

Do you have a little sister? What’s her name?  Yeah but she’s turning 21 this year, so little wouldn’t be accurate anymore. We call her Nina at home but everyone else calls her by her full first name, Janina.

Do you complain a lot?  I do complain a lot but I also do the thing that is causing the complaint right after so I can shut myself up lmao.

Would you rather go to an authentic haunted house or an ancient temple?  Both sound fun but I’ll probably take the temple. Yay for learning something new about culture!!

Do you like fruity or minty gum?  I don’t mind flavor when it comes to gum because they fade out anyway.

Are you looking forward to any day of this month?  My company set another mental health break day this upcoming August 27th, so I’ll be thinking about that day throughout the month.

Have you ever gotten detention?  We don’t have detention.

Is there a traumatic event that you’ve experienced that’s changed your life?  Sure.

Do you buy a majority of your clothes from a certain store, or do you just pick out items of clothing you could see yourself wearing, not caring about the store it came from? The latter. < Same. I can be brand-conscious sometimes, but generally if I find something cute, regardless from where I found it, I’d grab it.

Have any of the artists you’re fond of released new albums recently?  Technically yeah. It was a single album. 

Would you ever keep your favorite animal as a pet?  I already have two of them.

Ever cried so much you threw up?  Possibly.

Who is your best guy friend? Hans.

What do you two do when you hang out?  We usually eat out and have a drink or two.

What is a movie that you thought you would hate but you ended up loving?  Spotlight, just because it looked boring at first glance. It turned out to be very riveting and the screenplay was fascinating as well.

Do you even like horror movies?  Yes, but they’re best watched with other people.

Do you live in the country?  Nopes.

What is your favorite accent?  I don’t have one.

Have you ever had a boyfriend your parents didn’t like?  No.

Do you drink Pepsi or Coke?  I had the chance to try out Pepsi when we went to Taco Bell two weeks ago - it was my first time to have it and it was...actually pretty good??? The soda-hater in me was scandalized HAHAHA but it was good!!! I think I prefer Pepsi now.

What do you plan to do on your 21st birthday?  My 21st birthday started out terribly because Gabie’s family didn’t want her to hang out with me on a Sunday (the day my birthday fell on), so we were in an argument the whole day. Angela saved the day when she planned out an impromptu dinner + arcade date for me, and that was the only good part of the day, really. I’d rather forget the rest of it.

Do you have any person in your family with an addiction to beer?  I don’t think so.

Do you take a lot of pictures?  I’m starting to, now.

What kind of face wash do you use?  Good ol’ water.

Does drama always seem to follow you?  Not these days.

Does anybody in your family race?  Nope.

Are you closer to your mom or dad?  Dad, I guess. But I wouldn’t particularly call myself ‘close’ with either.

How much money did you used to get from the ”tooth fairy?”  I never received money from them.

How long do you want to live with your parents?  Maybe up until my mid-20s? Late-20s at the latest. I’m not exactly in the position to move out yet. The money I make at the moment would probably just be enough to cover rent, and just rent. I’d end up starving to death hahaha.

Do you have a laptop or desktop?  Laptop.

Do you like your parents?  Sure.

Do you secretly like someone?  I don’t.

Would you ever date your best male friend?  No. I also wouldn’t do that to Angela.

What are you currently listening to?  Moon by Jin! Such a comfort song.

Do you want to be single?  Yes.

Did you go out or stay in last night?  I stayed in and was knocked out pretty early since I had been up since 1 AM.

Have you pretended to like someone?  No. I don’t see why I would have to that.

How is your heart lately?  Just filled with nothing but Bangtan at this point haha. It’s doing well!

Are you wearing socks?  No. Socks bother me for the most part; they make my feet feel a bit suffocated.

What do people call you?  Robyn.

Do you get stressed out easily?  Yeah, I’m quite the overthinker.

Have you ever been taken to the emergency room in an ambulance?  No, I’ve never actually been inside an ambulance, whether it came for me or for another person.

What is wrong with you right now?  I should probably cut back on the vaping, for one.

Do you own something from Hot Topic?  No.

Would you rather sleep with someone else or alone?  It’s hard for me to sleep with someone else. Even when I had been in a relationship, I usually only got to fall asleep an hour or so after my partner already dozed off.

Do you still talk to the person you last made out with?  No, I cut ties at the start of the year and have been substantially better since then.

Have you ever seen your best friend cry?  I honestly don’t think so. I’m the bigger crybaby between us.

Did you get any compliments today?  My mom thanked me for covering for Cooper’s shots today since they ended up being quite costly.

Have you ever gone to a beach?  Yes, it’s one of my absolute favorite places to be.

What would you say if someone asked you to get high right now?  Pass up on the offer.

Do you believe that everything happens for a reason?  Yes.

Have you ever done volunteer work just because you wanted to?  I’ve never had the ample time to, so no. I’ve always wanted to volunteer at an animal shelter, though.

Do you have long nails?  They’re not dramatically long, but they have started to grow out.

Do you like the gender you are? I don't like or dislike it, honestly. I'm just neutral. < Same.

Do you generally look nice in photos?  I think this is the case these days, yeah. I’ve started feeling more confident and I think it’s able to translate in photos.

Have you ever had a stick insect as a pet?  No.

What colour are your father’s eyes?  Dark brown.

If I handed you a concert ticket right now, who would you want to be the performer?  BTS DUH

Name three facts about your family?  I come from a family of lawyers; many of us are big history buffs; and many are also fantastic cooks so I don’t know where that talent could have possibly gone when it come to my generation hah.

Would you ever get into a long distance relationship?  If I’ve reached a certain level of investment in the relationship, I could probably handle it. 

What’s the most thoughtful present you’ve ever received?  A Punk shirt and Petals For Armor physical CD from Andi this last Christmas.

What’s your favorite hot beverage? Hot chocolate. < Yessssss!

Did you ever play an instrument? If so what?  I don’t.

Would you rather carve pumpkins or wrap presents?  Carving pumpkins sounds fun, especially since I haven’t tried it before.

Do you think you’re important?  Idk. I don’t really like drawing attention to myself though, so that could probably answer your question.

What’s the best compliment you’ve ever received?  Andi wrote a letter for me to accompany the aforementioned Christmas gifts they gave, and it remains to be my favorite letter I’ve received. They essentially reminded and affirmed me that I’m stronger than I think I am, and that I’ve been through a lot and have grown a lot, and that that growth is seen by people around me.

Have you been diagnosed with any mental disorders?  No.

Have you ever moved to another state or country? If so, how did it feel to be new?  Just to different cities, but considering how tiny my country is, the move is quite insignificant lol.

Do you know how to properly eat food with chopsticks?  I’m 100% sure I don’t know how to properly hold chopsticks, but I have my own way and it works lol. Fake it til you make it.

Are you more of a leader or a follower? Definitely a follower, but I can step up in certain situations. < Same. I don’t mind leading, especially considering the control freak I can be lolol.

What was the first thing you ate today?  I haven’t eaten anything today. I skipped breakfast since I brought Cooper to the vet, and by the time I got back the dining table had already been cleared. It’s fine though, I don’t feel too hungry.

If you could spend the day, doing absolutely anything, with anyone, anywhere, what would it be like?  I’d be with Angela, Reena, and Hans at that insane new photocard store I talked about earlier. IDEALLY, we’d probably pick up a photocard or two if the ones we want aren’t sold out yet (lol a rarity), then we’d have some nachos and stuff right after and just talk about all things Bangtan lol with Hans cracking us up the whole time since he is just naturally hilarious.

If I were to ask you how you are doing, and you were only able to answer completely honestly, what would come out?  Content. Happy. I feel warm and loved and surrounded by the best people.

What is the one thing that you have been avoiding that you should do?  Learning how to cook is one.

Is there anything that you wish you could take back?  Not really.

What, in your mind, could make you truly happy?  Being in the purple ocean with my best friends.

If you could change one conversation in your life, what would you say differently? Would it have REALLY made any difference?  A part of me wishes my final face-to-face conversation with Gabie had been a more solid closure, just so we could finally put a hard stop to that chapter. But at that time I thought we would continue talking, so there had still been some stuff lingering in the air when we called it a day and parted ways. So in a sense we never really got closure when I finally cut ties, which the ESTJ in me remains to be nagged by, but I try not to be bothered by it anymore considering how much better I am doing right now. We didn’t know the future at the time, so it’s okay the way things turned out, ultimately.

When is the next time you’ll change your hairstyle? Will you color it?  I have no clue. It’s not really a priority.

Do people normally say you’re a fast typist, or are you rather slow?  I’m fast.

Have you ever been considered the ‘smartest person in school?’  Nah.

How many drugs are in your system?  Just caffeine.

What’s on your schedule for tomorrow? Werkwerkwerkwerk.

Do you currently have any bite marks/hickeys on your body?  Nopes.

Do you call anyone baby?  I don’t.

What’s your current mood?  I’m prety neutral. I wish I could be out right now, but stupid Covid and stupid quarantine. But I don’t really mind staying at home, either, so. I’m just so-so.

Do you think you are a good person?  I hope so.

What were you doing before filling out this survey?  I watched Sunday mass with my family.

How late did you stay up last night?  Around midnight.

When was the last time you cried really hard?  I cried just a few days ago because period hormones, but the last time I cried hard? I’m not sure. April maybe?

Is your hair longer than your shoulders?  LOL yes it’s soooooooo long already.

[my-darling-boy]

Heyo! So I am thinking about starting to bind, and was wondering if you had heard of the brand Flavent? If so what do you think of their binders? And are there any tips about binding that would be helpful? I don’t really know how to go about any of it. Also I wanted to say that I really love your blog’s aesthetic!!

Oh I have! Flavnt is a great brand actually, I’ve ordered from them before and follow them on ig. Their binders are so good in fact every time they get them in stock, they go out of stock just as quick!

And if you’re a first time binder, I’ve actually got helpful info for you!

Firstly:

NEVER wear the binder while sleeping. Do not go for a full night’s sleep with the binder on. You should always be conscious and aware of how your body is responding to the binder AT ALL TIMES.

NEVER use first aid bandages, muscle tape, or ACE Bandage if you lack a proper binder. Bandages like those are meant to be wrapped around things you do not want to move, and your ribcage needs to expand for you to breathe!! Wrapping your chest with these tight, constricting products not only heavily restricts breathing but you also run the risk of cutting off blood circulation to the rest of your body, rapidly damaging nerves in your breasts, back, and torso, increased chance of tearing your lungs from the lungs inflating with no space for expansion, bruising your back and ribcage, ruining skin elasticity quicker in your breasts which will limit top surgery incision types, and PASSING OUT due to prolonged lack of oxygen and/or blood flow to your brain. I know you see stereotypical drawings or stories of trans people binding with ACE but DO NOT DO IT. I speak from experience as I still have nerve damage in my back and damage to my breast tissue from doing it when I first started binding at 14. (Same risks apply for wearing a binder that is way too tight!)

NEVER use a binder from a non-reputable seller. If the product is simply this strange looking cheaply priced band which goes across the chest or tries to market itself as a “lesbian, tomboy, woman binder” IT IS NOT SAFE. These “binders” can have the same consequences as listed above. If you’re unsure if a site is safe, a simple web search will usually provide some insight in a few short minutes.

With this in mind, here is some info on reputed sellers:

FLAVNT, with their famous Bareskin Binder in a variety of skin tones and sizes, is starting to be a go-to for binders. The company is run by a trans guy and a lesbian if I remember right, and usually proceeds from their products will go directly towards funding select people’s top surgeries. They also have awesome trans/gender non-conforming themed merch to buy too!

Underworks is the brand I have always used. Originally started for men with gynecomastia, they have expanded their products to trans/gender non-conforming people. Unlike the other companies in this list, they use a medical grade mesh layered material for their binders which some find to be more durable/better binding but others find to be uncomfortable/not suited for their body type. It all depends!

Gc2b has been the go-to for binders for a long time and people are usually really happy with their order! I can’t say too much about them cos I have admittedly never ordered from because cloth binders never seem to fit me correctly? But the reviews are great!

Shapeshifters is one I have encountered recently from this article from a plus-sized trans person about binding as a plus-sized trans person! They offer custom sized binders with a variety of designs and sites like these are often the best option for people who have trouble with finding the right fit among the limited industry sizes!

On sizing/fit:

-BINDERS FROM EACH COMPANY HAVE DIFFERENT SIZE CHARTS. Things like the brand’s fit, material used, and your body shape can all affect how a binder fits. A small from one company will not always be a small from another one. A lot of the time, only chest measurements are used to determine your binder size and some find that alone not to be enough to find the right fit. Thence, some people opt for custom sized binders like Shapeshifters as mentioned above.

-The most important thing is that you are able to breathe in it! If you have any numbness or tingling in your limbs or under the binder, or feel light headed/short of breath (that is not caused by anxiety) TAKE OFF THE BINDER. You may need to order the next size up and continuing to wear a too-tight binder is dangerous.

-During your first times wearing a binder, you may feel it to be almost too snug, and this is because you need to break it in, so some pinching, discomfort, tightness is to be expected at first. However, if it persists beyond your first few wears, your binder may be too small. But do know there are some people who end up always having a bit of pinching/cutting due to their body shape/weight, even if their binder is compressing nicely. If you’ve never used a binder before: take it in small time frames. Wear it for an hour or two at first, remove it, then up the time from there to see how your body fairs with each time you wear it. Don’t start out wearing it the full eight hours.

-If you are in between sizes, DO NOT ORDER A SIZE DOWN. Often, the size is not going to be a little smaller but dramatically smaller.

-Binders come in two lengths: cropped and full torso. It doesn’t always matter which one you buy, but some people find if they have a larger waist, they like the full torso binders whereas I can’t wear them because my waist is way too small and my chest slips down, so I only order cropped binders to focus the compression on just my chest

-If you have a problem with your chest slipping down in the binder, some people like to wear sleeveless undershirts beneath the binder itself to prevent this

-You’ll generally know the binder is too tight. But if you’re still on the fence: if you cannot fully take a deep breath in, the binder is too small!

On safety concerns, effects from binding, and other little tips:

-Avoid wearing it for longer than 8 hours. Some people are able to wear it a little longer than this time due to much less compression from their binder. Regardless, DO NOT bind for more than 8+ hours ON A FREQUENT BASIS even if the binder still feels comfortable. We all get stuck in situations or unexpectedly long work days in our binders sometimes but PLEASE try to avoid wearing the binder for any longer than you need to. Take it off when there’s no need for it. Take entire rest days from the binder if you find yourself in it for long periods of time. YOUR BODY NEEDS REST FROM YOUR BINDER NO MATTER YOUR CHEST SIZE. Trust me.

-Avoid doing any prolonged, strenuous activity such as intense exercise. While I have worn it to the gym for basic workouts and barre classes plenty of times with zero chest/back soreness or issues, I obviously didn’t do this every day and I wasn’t doing this for collectively more than 40 minutes and didn’t wear the binder for the rest of the day because I was home. But again, it is SAFER if you DO NOT wear it during gym time. Opt instead for sports compression bras and shirts that make the chest area ambiguous when you exercise.

-Avoid wearing it on airplanes. This one is often disputed, but it is generally believed that wearing a binder on an airplane will cause restricted breathing due to high altitude even in a pressurised cabin. Yet, I have worn my binder on four 11 hour flights (removing halfway through for sleeping) and had ZERO issues with breathing/comfort. It’s possible that people being unable to breathe comes instead from claustrophobia in the cabin, anxiety with flying, sitting position, or preexisting medical conditions and they attribute it to the binder. Personally, I think it’s safe to wear binders on airplanes because every time I’ve flown, I’ve had no issues, and trans guys I know personally have also had no issues, but this doesn’t mean it’s right for EVERYone. Wear it at your own risk.

-Additionally, avoid wearing it on turbulent/fast rides as the high velocity can increase compression on your chest. Again, I’m a Bad Boyᵀᴹ and I’ve worn it on plenty of upside down rides, including wearing it on that fair ride that spins you around so fast, gravity pins you to the wall. In all these situations, I again felt nothing and even forgot I had the binder on.

-I mention the “less safe” ways I have bound before for a reason. Please don’t think Binder Horror Stories happen to everyone. I used to spend so much time worrying about how Dangerous my binder could be, afraid to wear it even, but guess what? When I felt the binder needed to come off? I took it off. When I thought it might be actually unsafe to do something in my binder? I didn’t do it. I LISTENED to myself and my body, and that is overall the SAFEST thing you can do. This is how I’ve avoided binder complications for 7 YEARS. Even the general rules have a bit of relativity to them. I’ve met people who think they can bind for 8 hours safely when they were in horrible pain at just 4 hours, but continued to wear it because “It’s safe to wear for 8 hours because a trans guy told me so!” ONLY YOUR BODY sets how long and in what situations you can bind in. Bind in a way that is safe and comfortable for YOUR BODY. Additionally, most negative affects from a binder happen over prolonged periods of time after CONSTANT situational misuse, so if you wear it on the rare occasion when you think you shouldn’t have, it’s not the end of the world. Check back with your doctor if you are concerned with how your binder may be affecting you. Even binding using—or not using—the general accepted avoidance rules can prove risky if you do not listen to your body first and foremost. Everyone’s experience and limits vary considerably!

-Binding for roughly over 3-4 years, your chest may begin to droop because of the constant compression slowly wearing down the skin elasticity of the breasts. This could potentially negatively affect chances of minimal incision top surgery. For example, I have been binding for 7 years and now have a tiny chest from T which would’ve made me perfect for keyhole, but alas, binding for 7 years gets me double incision

-Keeping your binder clean is important, as you can get very hot in it regardless of the weather. Be sure to keep it washed in cold water and hang dry to keep its form or use low dryer heat to restore some of the “stiffness” if you find it getting a little loose fitting. A dirty binder will cause body acne as well

-In hot weather, avoid wearing it as much as you can to avoid overheating, or wear light and airy fabrics to reduce the chances of profusely sweating in the sun with it on

-Preexisting medical conditions that affect the lungs, nervous system, or muscles/bones in your arms, chest, neck, or back may cause you a series of unique difficulties other binding people do not have so please be aware of this

-Sometimes panic attack + binder = increased panic attack because you think you can’t breathe. If the space permits it, pull the binder down from your chest area to allow you the fullest breaths possible

Lastly, getting the binder on:

Everyone has different ways to get it on, but the most widely used is this method. Start by making it so the binder is wrong-side-out and upside down. Step into the opening (straps towards the ground) and slide it up your body. Once you get to about your waist, you’ll want to get the binder right-side-out by slipping your wrists in through the straps and “flipping” the garment up your torso as the you slide the straps up and onto your shoulders. You also want to make sure your chest is basically shoved Upwards and Outwards under the binder towards your underarms. To do this, I lay flat on the floor/bed and lift the right and left sides of the binder briefly to allow my chest to naturally fall back towards my underarms. DO NOT flatten your chest downwards by smashing all of the tissue and your nipples down towards your sternum for it will cause your chest to droop faster on top of being painful. I made a handy little doodle to show you what I mean!

Anyway, I hope this helps! x

Anyone who has some other tips that may be helpful for binding, feel free to add on!

[leechonspeeddial]

Midnight Shift: The Serpent at Burger King - A Seduction of Kevins Summary: The Devil comes disguised as everything you want, Alice Cullen comes with fondue fountains and Bugattis. wc: 1.7k Read on ao3

There was one simple lesson I learned from a young age and quickly internalized while living as a Cullen.

Never play chess with a psychic.

You think a mind reader is a problem? No, you just have to add on geographical distance and then you're back on an equal playing field; as long as you keep apart, you can use your best strategies and winning is still possible. A psychic though, there is no distance you can go to be hidden from their sight. Once they get their teeth in you, your odds at winning are – for a lack of a better word – shit. So, as I held Alice's gaze at our local Burger King, I reminded myself this one very important rule.

Never play chess with a psychic.

Too late.

If you did find yourself playing chess with a psychic, the best course of action would be to become irrational and flip the board. You might not win, but neither would they and you'd save yourself the effort. I took a deep breath and assessed the situation. There were currently five humans with ten pairs of working human eyes at the restaurant; flipping the board would be disastrous, either people would die or they'd bear witness to vampiric activity. So that's out of the question, next strat.

Though Alice had gotten used to reading around the blind spots caused by me, she hadn't totally mastered it yet. My best choice was to act without thinking and take over the conversation as much as possible. That, well, that I could manage no problem.

"Well, well, well. What do you have to say for yourself, Mr. Assistant Manager?" I addressed Gay Kevin, hoping to also neutralize Jasper. Mr. Emotional Roofie was another obstacle here, trying to goad my coworkers so that they emotionally overwhelm him was my best shot. "Showing up two hours late to your shift with no warning?"

Gay Kevin looked exhausted.

"Please, not in front of the customers," he sounded embarrassed. Not Kevin snorted and took the interruption as an opportunity to make Milkshake boy his drink and get away from Alice. Meanwhile, Straight Kevin hopped over the counter and directly headed towards the old fries – if we didn't do our duty to eat them, they would be thrown out.

I also took notice of the guy that came in with the Kevins; he was shorter than Gay Kevin but slightly taller than Straight Kevin, he had thick black hair, but more importantly, he carried a video camera with him. He observed us, brown eyes full of amusement, and I sincerely hoped he was a vlogger.

"They aren't customers," I chirped with a predatory smile.

"I am a one though," Milkshake boy frowned. I waved him off.

"You're Not Kevin adjacent. You don't count," Gay Kevin looked increasingly irritated despite Jasper's attempt at giving chill vibes. He crossed his arms.

"So, what's this? You decide to throw a party while I was gone?"

I was about to retort when Alice interrupted me. I glared.

"There IS a party involved, but not here and not right now. Alice Cullen, nice to meet you, I'm –"

"Resentment's sister," Alice scrunched up her nose but nodded.

"Yup! And I came here to personally invite you, other Kevin, and Not Kevin to Nessie's party"

"You said you were born on 9/11," Straight Kevin's said accusingly with a mouth full of fries.

"It's not a birthday party," Alice tried to clarify, only to be drowned out by Not Kevin.

"You were born on 9/11?" I turned to address him and realized he was making Milkshake boy a chocolate shake, ruining all the hard work I put into my performance. Today was definitely not my day.

"I mean, yeah, but not like 9/11 9/11. I'm only 16," Not Kevin nodded but then his eyes widened as a realization seemed to hit him.

"Oh fuck. I forgot that was 20 years ago…"

"I wasn't even born 20 years ago," Straight Kevin added and it seemed to act as a punch to Not Kevin's gut.

"God, you guys are babies. I remember my parents picking me up from kindergarten early and being glued to the news for the rest of the day," Gay Kevin's statement also appeared to have a negative effect on Not Kevin, making him look even more miserable. Camera man looked like there was no place he rather be. Alice, well, she looked endlessly irritated.

"I feel so old" Not Kevin whispered, shell-shocked.

"You are old. What are you, like 50?" Not Kevin glared at me.

"What's 9/11?"

I blinked. Everyone went quiet and stared at Milkshake boy, who looked very confused. No one spoke for a full beat.

"Jack's 19 and, uh, Canadian," Not Kevin shrugged helplessly and said as if that explained everything. He handed the kid his milkshake.

"Hey, I thought there weren't any Oreos –"

"ANYWAY," Alice said loudly and we all looked at her, "it's not a birthday party. It's more like a celebration of Nessie's first job. Our family would love to have all of you for dinner"

"She means that we'd love to have you at the event. Not that we want to eat you for dinner," Jasper added unnecessarily and made me want to face palm. So, I did.

"I wasn't worried about possible cannibalism when she said it, but now I am," Straight Kevin took a wary step away from Jasper. Alice rolled her eyes.

"There will be plenty of free food and you can take as many leftovers as you want with you," Straight Kevin seemed to seriously consider this.

"I'm in," Alice handed him a pink envelope and smiled. Fuck.

Improvise.

"Speaking of customers. We have one right now," I pointed at Camera man, "so we can't deal with you right now," I tried to push Alice out the store but she held her ground.

"I'm also not a customer," he shrugged, "I came for the rats"

Shit.

"Tài…don't do this" Gay Kevin pleaded.

"My hands are tied. I promised my audience," so he was some sort of vlogger. This was admittedly the only good thing that has happened today.

"See, he's not a customer. I can stay," I groaned at Alice's smug tone.

"Technically, you're both loitering. So, neither of you should stay"

"I agree with the Assistant Manager"

Alice and I stared down at each other while Camera man and Gay Kevin had a silent conversation with their eyes. For the next while, the only sounds that could be heard in the restaurant were Straight Kevin loudly chewing, Milkshake boy slurping, and Olivia Rodrigo's drivers license playing on the speakers.

Suddenly, Not Kevin snapped his fingers, drawing our attention to him.

"You know, it occurs to me that since both Kevins are finally here, I can take my break. Come on Jack, I'm taking you home," he quickly made his way around the counter and grabbed Milkshake boy. "I'll make sure to call if I'm somehow two hours late," I smirked at Alice as her eyes narrowed. I greatly encouraged any action that made her look like that.

Milkshake boy tilted his head and didn't let himself be dragged out of the joint. I had half a mind to help Not Kevin.

"But dad said to –"

"Your dad will be ok with this as long as you don't set the house on fire. Again" Milkshake boy frowned.

"It happened once. I said I was sorry"

"Yeah, yeah. Come on bud, time's ticking"

Finally, that seemed to get Milkshake boy moving and heading to the door.

"Don't forget your invite!" Alice called out.

"We're good," Not Kevin responded with a hand on the door and the other pulling the teen along.

"Did I mention there will be a fondue fountain?"

Not Kevin hesitated by the door and I could only feel horror as my stomach dropped. Not Kevin was weak for cheese and cheese related by-products.

"Chocolate or cheese?"

"Both," I held my breath. It wasn't fair, it wasn't fucking fair.

"Shame, I'm on a diet"

"You aren't –"

And they were both gone before Milkshake boy could finish calling out Not Kevin's blatant lie. I fist bumped the air and stuck my tongue out at Alice, fully intending to gloat over this minor victory.

That is, until I saw Alice smiling.

Fucking psychics.

"What's got you so smug," I snarked, hoping to get a hint of whatever vision she just had. She smirked and I could tell she could see right through me. So much for not playing chess with psychic.

"I had a sudden revelation that everything will be alright," her eyes twinkled with mischief and, not for the first time, I was very jealous of Edward. Why the fuck did he get the mind reading powers? Tactile thought projection was so stupid and useless the majority of the time.

"You're so fucking annoying"

"I prefer the term persistent," I'd prefer if she was set on fire. "Which reminds me, hey boys"

Camera man and Gay Kevin stopped doing whatever the hell they were doing and paid attention to Alice, who was holding up one her dumb little pink envelopes.

"What do you say, a chance to eat fancy rich people food and see some fancy rich people cars," Camera man turned to Gay Kevin.

"Babe"

"Is this like, appropriate. Professionally speaking," Gay Kevin scrunched up his nose trying to figure out the etiquette of this weird ass situation.

"I'm more than happy to take you guys on a spin in my brand-new Bugatti"

"Babe"

"Why does this feel like bribery?" Gay Kevin narrowed his eyes at Alice, he seemed incredibly suspicious.

"Because it is," I growled and attempted to set Alice on fire with my stare.

"And I fully admit it. I just want to throw a good party, and guest are a very important part," she stretched out her hand towards Camera man, "think about it, that's all I ask"

Camera man and Gay Kevin shared a look, and Camera man grabbed the envelope. Ugh.

"Wonderful! Remember to R.S.V.P., we'll leave you to it," she waved and grabbed Confederate hubby.

They walked away and I could hear Alice speak, her voice far too low for human ears, but just the right volume for me.

"There's been a change of plans, we're meeting up Esme"

I scowled. I knew it was bait, I knew Alice wanted me to hear her, and it was driving me insane. Why would they need to see Esme? Why would Alice want me to know this?

I fucking hated my life.

[thedevilsruby]

Blood Ties (Clierra multi chap fic)

The official sequel to Business, Torture and Pleasure. Cliff and Sierra are finally married and happy when Giovanni rears his head in and threatens their lives once again. Will he succeed or will Cliff and Sierra defeat him once more?

(Chapter One) (Chapter Two) (Chapter Three) (Chapter Four) (Chapter Five) (Chapter Six)

Chapter Seven: Finally Safe

Sierra laid on the bed, her eyes devoid of life or emotion. She had been here for three days. 

Three days of hitting, barely eating and Giovanni trying to insist she give him a child.

Which she obviously refused. She had Aurora. Aurora was all she needed.

Her thought never stopped when it came to Aurora and Cliff. Were they okay? She hoped that they were safe. She hoped they knew she was thinking about them all the time. 

That’s all she could do that this point. Hope.

Cliff bit his lip as he sat in the back seat of Spark’s car, Jenny and her squad behind them. He remembered the route to the beach house well when Giovanni showed him, Arlo and Sierra to show off his wealth and what he could afford.

His large hand gripping Aurora’s little one, he hoped that’s where they were.

Sure enough, they found the house, Giovanni’s expensive car in front.

Cliff was tempted to go over and smash the windows and flatten the tires but right now, getting Sierra out was the only thing on his mind.

Sierra jumped from near fright when sirens blared all around the house, then it hit her and she smiled when her window caught sight of Spark’s car, Cliff and the others exiting.

“Cliff!!” She squealed, her heart filling with delight as she saw Blanche exit the car, holding their niece in their arms. “Rory!”

Panic gripped her heart when Giovanni slammed the door open, storming over and roughly grabbing her ankle. She winced but let him unlock her anklet, then gasped as he pulled her into his arms roughly.

“Let me go!” She screamed, trying with all her might to fight him, she couldn’t help but wonder what the point of those self defense classes was when he seemed immune to her punches and kicks.

“No!” He snarled, dragging her to the door, her kicking with all her might to get away.

The police officers had their guns drawn as he kicked the door open. Cliff gasped when he saw a gun drawn to Sierra’s head. “SIERRA!��� He screamed, resisting the urge to go over and rip her out of Giovanni’s arms.

“NO ONE MOVE OR I SHOOT HER BRAINS OUT!” Giovanni yelled, almost insanely. The police froze, afraid of harm coming to Sierra is they didn’t comply.

Sierra was frightened for a second, but seeing Cliff and Aurora filled her with a new energy. An energy full of love and hatred at the same time. Love for her family and friend who risked so much to save her, a hatred for the madman holding her, ripping away her daughter’s innocence and ruining her family’s sense of security.

She hated him.

With her newfound energy, she grabbed the hand that was draped tightly around her shoulders and bit down as hard as her jaw would allow. 

With a pained scream, Giovanni released her and gripped his wounded hand. Sierra took advantage of her new found freedom to sprint to Cliff, laughing tearfully as she jumped into his arms at long last. “DARLING!” She screamed, tears flowing down her cheeks.

“Sierr-” Cliff was about to scream her name but then he saw it.

Giovanni lifting his gun back up as officers tried to dive in. The insane glow in his eyes was intense.

“IF I CAN’T HAVE HER, NO ONE CAN!”

Sierra had no time to react as Cliff shoved her behind him and the gunshot was heard. She covered her mouth in horror as Cliff screamed in pain. 

“NO!” Sierra shrieked.

~

People surrounded the coffin in tears and mourning. The skies above were gray and lifeless, almost mourning with the people gathering for the one who would be missed.

The priest read a eulogy written for him, reading as loudly as he could over the sobs and cries. 

Then it faded to black. 

“Those soap operas get so dramatic, Robert wasn’t even that important a character.” Cliff groaned with a roll of his eyes. He then eyed his wife, who was giggling and leaning against his side. “How do you watch those and not get bored?”

“Some of them aren’t so bad, dearest.” Sierra stated, kissing his cheek.

Two months had gone by since the incident. After Giovanni fired on Cliff, police had no choice but to fire on him as well. Giovanni was pronounced dead on the scene.

Cliff had gotten away with a bullet in his shoulder and was recovering. Sierra and Aurora never left his side, Aurora doing her little drawings for him, hoping it would make him feel better. It was tremendous help, making Cliff smile when he needed it.

Aurora climbed into Cliff’s lap, hugging him. “I’ll help you not be bored, daddy!” She squealed.

Cliff chuckled, ruffling his daughter’s hair. “Thanks baby.”

Aurora attended therapy for her trauma every Tuesday and Thursday, while Sierra and Cliff attended therapy themselves every Friday afternoon. Sierra was reluctant about going herself at first but now that she could talk about what Giovanni did and not feel judged for it, she felt so much better. And it definitely helps that Aurora’s nightmares went down drastically after her therapy sessions started.

About a month ago, Sierra had gotten a call from Giovanni’s lawyer, saying he had left her something in his will. Cliff didn’t want her to go, thinking it was another trap but she needed to go. Sierra assured him she would be okay and once she got there, learned Giovanni had left her a hefty sum of money for her before she and Cliff started dating. Not wanting anything to do with his cursed money, she donated all of it to a cause that supported kidnapping victims and sexual abuse victims.

Not that she and Cliff needed it anyway, they made enough to support themselves with Valor Mystic Instinct.

That’s when it hit her, she needed to tell Cliff something. “Baby?” Sierra asked, poking Aurora’s nose.

“Yes, mama?” Aurora asked, peering up at her mother curiously.

“You think you can go play in your room? Mama needs to talk to daddy.”

Cliff’s interest was piqued. What did she need to talk to him about? 

“Yes, mama!” Aurora piped up, giving her mother a quick hug before grabbing her Ledyba plush and running off.

“What’s up, gorgeous? Is something wrong?” Cliff asked, cupping Sierra’s cheek in worry.

She smiled at him. “I went to my doctor the other day.” She said.

“And? Did he find something?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Cliff...” She said softy, taking his hand and guiding it to her stomach. It hit Cliff then and there, his jaw dropped. Her smile grew as she watched his reaction. “I’m pregnant.”

“W-What?! Are you serious?! How along are you?! Oh my stars!” Cliff’s heart was pounding and he found himself hugging Sierra as tight as he could.

She giggled, holding his cheeks. “I’m a month along. But that’s not all they found...”

“What?” What else?” Cliff asked.

Sierra sighed and leaned down to his ear.

“I have three heartbeats in me. I’m pregnant with twins.” 

Sierra hadn’t seen Cliff so happy since the day she agreed to marry him. 

Things weren’t the same, yes, but they were going to move forward. They would lead happy lives now that Giovanni was gone for good.

This was going to be a brand new beginning for them.

--

That’s it! The Business, Torture & Pleasure and Blood Ties stories are done! Complete! Finito!

HUGE HUGE HUGE thank you to @bloodcountessbathory for helping me so much with this, I owe you so much!! And thanks to everyone who supported me!! Y’all are amazing!!

[grandpasessions]

'There was nothing left for us here, everyone I knew felt reluctantly guilty for feeling lost, as if being lost was hesitantly, but most definitively, part of who they were.' 'The atomization had gone further than anyone ever thought it would, our own identities had fragmented into various abstractions of consumption; brands, shops, sexualities, traits, habits, software stacks, video games, TV series, cinematic universes, foreign food, reading lists, alternative spiritualities, ironic adherence to tradition, theological LARPing, this is what remained, ashes of reality scattered into the simulacrum for us to pick and choose from. Every morsel of personality and ego had become tethered to a commodifiable life-choice. I no longer knew any-one, only assemblages of pithy statements, purchases, and vices; what was anyone except a culmination of their hedonistic desires and shallowly pronounced social virtues?' 'Once your understanding has been replaced everything else falters rather sharply; meaning in general collapses and everything is transferred into a system of third-party checking, as opposed to personal investigation and belief. Nothing felt as if it were ever mine, nor as if I'd ever earned it, and that's because what was earned was backed by nothing.' '... It just did not stop, not for a moment; the clearest symptom of modernity is that all time was to be filled, and it didn't matter what filled it, as long as there was continual noise, static to be utilized as ignorance of [a] cosmic predicament.' 'Can it be considered sleepwalking if it encapsulates one's entire life? If one is asleep for the entire [e.d], then that quickly becomes one's reality.' 'The reason people purchased things relied on another abstract reason ad infinitum; the reason people did anything likewise relied on the will of another, rarely did one witness a man take it upon himself to act, buy or say something which arose from his wellspring of authenticity, there was always something else controlling his strings. And that's what modernity is, a material labyrinth of puppet-masters who are all interconnected and cordial, a multiplicity of effects trying to hide their causes, because once you get to the cause you can start to question it, until that moment of apprehension, anything you attempt to grasp immediately disappears. At all turns, man is left with another turn.' 'There is a difference between knowledge and understanding and the academy laps up the former without paying a moment's notice to the latter. To understand something is to take one's time, it is to draw its breath, and potentially act in accordance; the academy is bodies without souls, vessels to be filled, and upgraded. Graduate, post-graduate, and lecturer are beings of their own kind, molded by the suffocating atmosphere of strict interpretation. How can one talk of interpretation if there is only one?' 'I could not stand the paths I needed to take to supposedly acquire that which I desired, what I desired among all things, or so I believe at the time, was to gain an understanding of the world which allowed contentment, a teleology towards a personal peace. ... into the heart of familiarity I desired to go.' 'To think for oneself had become increasingly difficult, every structure and institution since birth had been constructed in such a way as to covertly remove all personal responsibility for individuals, and from there had since set up a monopoly where a heart and vision once laid.' 'The plan was a form of neo-asceticism, strip it all back; throw it back in their faces by way of refusal.' 'And therefore those who took interest were these [weird, odd, strange, peculiar] things also, and as such, status did the rest; eventually, all that came of the academy was an acceptance of those alike those accepting, dry, strained, professional and meek; I could call it a racket, but that would be too exciting, for its reality was one of a waiting room, the texts I once loved became cheap magazines strewn over its floor whilst I waited for my bureaucratically monitored acceptability rating.' '... one should only laugh at those who proclaim that truth is on the side of misery, for what can misery be but only understood as a solely human affair; the cosmos doesn't understand misery as much as we don't understand the passions of a boulder. To align misery, suffering, and decay with an abstract bleaker-than-thou truth is to make the same anthropocentric errors as those which you proclaim to hate. Many, myself included, wish there was more horror, for at least then there would be interest in the world.' 'To betray the pro-herd is to revere the anti-herd.' 'What the herd yearns for is not a life, but a pen. Who could blame them? With a pen comes purpose, something easy to moan about. Lyotard was right in Libidinal Economy when he declared that the working-class desire their subjugation - 'the English unemployed did not become workers to survive, they - hand me tight and spit on me - enjoyed the hysterical, masochistic, whatever exhaustion it was of hanging on in the mines, in the foundaries, in the factories, in hell, they enjoyed it, enjoyed the mad destruction of their organic body which was indeed imposed upon them, they enjoyed the decomposition of their personal identity. ... man finds his meaning in the collective in the very same way he finds meaning in masochism, by perpetually perusing his mandatory service, he seeks a greater and greater denial of his desire and potential. Yet, even if he were to go looking for it he'd be too scared to confront it.' 'This is what is comforting about the collective for your common drone, the ongoing, incessant, and indulgent whining and moaning, the oh-so-cumbersome depressions and anxieties brought about by the most minor of stresses and tensions, the adherence to a blank slate of tranquility and extravagance a priori. Lo-and-behold the user finds a shit-smeared socius, bulging at the seams with repressions, constraints, containments, rules, laws, taxes, usury, masters, cutbacks, limitations, diminutions, and attentuations, all of which are gorged upon by willing individuals, not in moments of begrudging compliance, but as purpose, as meaning.' 'I had no connection to nature, to family, to tradition, to root or stem, I was -- as all are now -- my own personal atom of modern ecstasy, economics, and envy. You could state with ease that this was some form of nihilism personal to me, or my immediate surroundings, except it wasn't, that's not how nihilism works. Nihilism is behind it all, there is the gloss of objects and apparel and the illusion of the subject. ... If there is such a thing as nihilism it's so indiscernible from the actions of the average modern man that it eventually begs no division of definition.' 'Where everyone was headed was precisely nowhere, but this too was an empty truism that helped precisely no one.' 'Also, one must cast off all material pleasures, a feat easily achieved for it feels like a virtue, but one must too cast off all material sufferings, the ones they most enjoy, depression, anxiety, malaise, melancholy and despair, those sufferings which are so indulged in on an almost constant basis, so much so that they covertly become pleasures; there's little meaning for modern man other than a common depression; Oh, the suffering! Oh, the despair! Oh spare me your shivers and whines and submit your body to all that is chthonic.' 'I found nothing that could offer me suffering, let alone relief or contentment.' 'I had burned through life's most basic settings at the rate of modern man in overdrive; I wanted more of the more. This had left me feeling alienated and lonely and listless. People who want something have a direction, those who have lost something do too, any cessation can give man meaning rather quickly, but what about an apathetic cessation of apathy brought about by apathy?'

The Methodology of Possession // James Ellis