#Trouble Capture: Dash

[delphi-shield]

— 「 TOTALITY 」 pt 2

Hugo Vlad x Reader — 3.5k

part 1

summary: He can read through the lines. I'm here. I've been here, waiting. So, of course Hugo slides his hands beneath your shirt. Of course he wedges a knee between your legs. No more ambiguity. No more waiting. He's right here, right where you want him.

content: bottom reader, spit as lube, biting, begging, manhandling, humiliation if you squint, fingering, penetrative sex, gender-neutral reader (use of 'hole', no mention of reader having any specific genitalia)

tags: @hersweetsstrawberry

You're wrist deep in cookie dough when Hugo shatters your world.

“I don't actually like sweets, you know.”

The drag of the wooden spoon against the mixing bowl halts. His ear twitches. He expected more of a reaction, frankly. Hugo had spent the better part of a week catastrophizing this reveal. He spiraled down every way it could go, each one of them ending with your hatred. Even now he expects to hear the spoon clattering to the floor, or whizzing past his head. Your trust shattered, loathing in your eyes, a finger jabbed in his chest as you declared you were done with him and threw him out the door. This was it. The final sugar-spun straw that broke your back.

Instead, you twist at the waist to peer at him. Your eyes narrow - he can place the vitriol there for you, if he tries hard enough, but he knows it's his own.

After a long pause, you condemn him:

“You said macadamia nut was your favorite.”

“No. I only suggested it.” He's not wrong, but now he sees the first flicker of annoyance. Cagey is cute when it's flirty - less so when it's deceitful. “It's Vivian's favorite.”

You set the bowl aside and wipe your hands on the front of your apron.

“Then what's your favorite?”

“I don't care for sweets.”

Hugo gives a limp shrug. Sweeping an arm behind his head, he lets his long hair flow over the arm of the couch. He sinks lower into the cushions. The guilt is less palpable when he can't see all the trouble you've gone to.

You putter in the kitchen, bowls clanging, bag crinkling - a huff of irritation when the wooden spoon clonks back against the bowl. You stir briskly now, aggression beating lumps of butter till creamy. Add one egg, dash of resentment – repeat.

“Scones.”

“Too dry.”

“Shortbread cookies.”

“Bland.”

“Hugo.” A sigh. Your footsteps approaching, your face cresting the back of the couch. There's flour stuck to your cheek. He reaches to swipe it away and you intercept him, capture his wrist in a loose grip. You rattle him. He lets his hand ragdoll.

He slips your grip easily. Trailing his fingers up your palm, he takes your hand for his own. Hugo raises his arm above his head and guides you to the front of the couch.

The truth is trapped behind his lips, choking him. It will never stop feeling like this. Every time he's forced to divulge some truth about his wretched origin, it will feel like detonating a bomb in your living room and standing idly by while you clean up the wreckage. There will be pity in your eyes and exhaustion in your voice. Oh, Hugo, you'll shake your head.

He strokes his thumb against yours. He wants so badly for you to know him. It's too late for Vivian and Lycaon, but there's still time for him to do things right with you. The honest, ugly truth. He wants it so badly that he pushes past the thorns in his throat, kisses your knuckles and starts in with a phrase that you'll grow to dread.

“When I was a boy…”

Evenings at your apartment had become commonplace. He lounges on your couch with increasing frequency, long legs kicked up, hair down and flowing. Divulging the details of his past never quite gets easier, but you give him the space to flounder. He would present it to you in neat little packages. This is why I’m like this, trussed up in a quaint little story. One by one you had picked them open and laid them out before him - never pushing for more, only looking at what had been offered and regarding him with–

Not pity. Not like he had feared. Acceptance, maybe. Something that had felt underwhelming at first. He had expected more. Indignance, a blow up - something more than the gentle nod of your head and a silence that laid over him like a particularly itchy blanket.

But the longer that he sat in that silence, the less prickly it became. The weight of it became a comfort. Oftentimes you wouldn't look up from your task. You flowed about the room while he languished in place. The movement, the little sounds of life, kept him unmoored from bitterness.

Sometimes, though, your puttering drove him mad. You’d share your own stories, casually weaved between your household chores, sweeping up the mess you’d just made. He’d guide you to his lap and press you to the couch, the floor, the bed – wherever, so long as it would keep you from running in place.

“You're like a cat,” you’d yawned one night when both of you were eager for distraction, your fingers carding through his hair. “You keep making passes like you want to brush against my legs. Then you finally do, and it's like you scared yourself.”

He can read through the lines. I'm here. I've been here, waiting. He pushes his head into your hands. Your nails scratch at his scalp and he could purr.

So of course Hugo slides his hands beneath your shirt. Of course he wedges a knee between your legs. No more ambiguity. No more waiting. He's right here, right where you want him.

“Is that what you think?” He huffs. His grip is firm, fingertips greedily squeezing every inch of skin he can reach. “That I'm scared?”

He presses a hand to the curve of your back and you arch off the bed. Pretty. Obedient. He shucks your shirt off quickly. His lips latch to your chest, kissing and nipping at your skin. Your breath catches. “There's nothing wrong with that.”

“I'm not.”

“I kinda am.”

“Of me?”

Your silence freezes him in place. He picks his head up, drops his chin to your chest. His fingers drum expectantly against your hip.

You shake your head. His eyes narrow, grip tightening. You roll your hips against his knee, grind down on him as if your body's reaction is supposed to prove anything.

Hugo draws away. You grip his bicep, try to tug him back.

“Not scared.” You hook your arms beneath his, sit up to drop a kiss against his shoulder. “Nervous.”

He wants to believe that. He wants to think it's not a lie to keep him here, that you aren't bending to him just because it's natural to do so. Your hand tries to smooth the tension from his shoulders in a gentle arc. It sets his teeth on edge. Hugo slides back up your body, thumbs curling into your hips.

"You're just as bad as I am," he mutters, palm cradling your cheek.

You lean into his touch. "Maybe worse."

At least you know it. He kisses your forehead, your nose, your mouth. A sweet peck until you chase after his lips, slot your mouth against his. Your hand lays against his jaw. He presses you back to the couch, his touch tempered to something gentle and cautious.

Your legs fall open, hips wiggling, begging for his knee back between them. His teeth catch your bottom lip - a bite for your impatience. You inhale sharply, mouth falling wider, and he takes the chance to pull back and hear the noises you make for him.

Hugo hums, eyes falling shut. Your desperate little pants are the perfect symphony. His hand slips from your cheek, fingers brushing past your jaw. He lays his palm flat against the side of your neck. Your pulse drives against his palm, hot and hard. He can taste your skin against his tongue without needing to duck his head and try it for himself. He runs his tongue along the back of his teeth, imagines how your heart would quicken when he dragged those sharp points against your delicate throat.

He hooks a thumb into the underside of your jaw. You turn and shift with the slightest pressure. His gut stirs, cock kicking lazily. That familiar haze has blown your pupils wide.

Hugo presses two gloved fingers to your lips. You don't wait for him to tap, mouth dropping open obediently. He clicks his tongue – ah-ah – and stops you just before you can lap against at the leather.

“What a pretty picture you make,” he coos. Your neck extended, jaw dropped to take his fingers, pink tongue waiting. If he kept you there long enough, he was certain you'd start drooling. (Plans for another night, maybe. He’ll need an old camera. A one of one print that he could lock up in the archives of his gallery, first piece in a private collection themed around your pleasure.)

That draws a whine out of you. He shushes you gently. Hugo drums his fingers against the plump of your bottom lip. He flips through his mental catalogue the things he’s dreamed of doing to you, every lurid thought that kept him aching and hard and settles on one with a decisive tap.

“Take it off,” he commands. Poor, dazed thing. You start shucking your shirt off, eyes still trained on his. He coos – “My glove, treasure.”

Without even the sense to show any embarrassment, you nip at his fingertips and tug. If only your teeth were as sharp as his; he needs your bite mark embedded in the leather. His glove dangles between your teeth. So well-behaved, not dropping it without being told first. He cups his hand below your chin and you release it on the word "drop."

He doesn't bother to issue a command; you don’t need verbal instruction for something you’re so practiced at. You part your lips for his fingers at the first intrusion, tongue welcoming them, guiding them to the roof of your mouth. You wet his fingers, obscene wet sounds passing your swollen lips.

He sits back on his haunches, keeps you anchored with his fingers pressing down on your tongue while he shucks the rest of your clothing out of the way. He tugs your pants down to your knees, his impatience straining at his zipper.

It’s unbearable; Hugo fishes himself out of his pants. You hurry to prop yourself up on your elbows at the first clink of his belt, nearly choke yourself on his fingers. He pushes you back down by the point of your shoulder with a snort. The relief of freeing his aching cock was swallowed up by the need that drove straight through his stomach.

He bunches your underwear to the side and strokes the back of his spit-slick fingers against you, prodding, pressing, pushing into you, against you, spreading you wider for him. Hugo mouths along your jawline. He needs to be everywhere, to taste all of you, to be inside of you - consumed, surrounded, cradled. He bites a kiss to the angle of your jaw and drags his tongue lower, finally seeking out your pulse. He kisses you open-mouthed and slow, tongue massaging your skin.

His kiss is soft, but his fingers are insistent, firm, pressing against your hole. Your body pulls him in, one finger pressing into you with a shallow, pulsing little thrust that's quickly joined by another digit. You're too eager for him to be satisfied by just one, and the sloppy rut of your hips guides his fingers into a brutal pace. Pride blazes, melts his stomach into a mess, makes him puff his chest and chase you as you bend back to the bed. Your breath hitches and lengthens into a slow, stuttery moan. He bites harder at your skin, surging forward, pressing you back into the cushions.

“You want me?”

“Yes.” You buck your hips hard. A moan rolls from your lips like thunder, his fingers buried to the knuckle. Your legs twitch around him, begging him closer and trapped his hand.

Hugo batters that spongy spot inside of you that makes you squeeze him again and again. His chest lifts off of you, and you whine. He has half a mind to pop a thumb into your mouth to pacify you. The fingers of his free hand ghost down your chest, caress the curve of your stomach, and smooth around the curve of your hip. His rocks his hips, grinding himself into the bed sheets. Your hole flutters around his fingers. He bites down on a groan, cock aching, twitching against your thigh.

“You need me?”

“Yes – fuck, please,” you whine, head snapping back to the pillow. “Please, please, I can't do this – it’s not enough. I need it.”

Satisfaction erupts in his chest, sends sparks of pleasure fizzling through his veins. He sighs dreamily, his knuckles dragging tenderly across your cheek. How perfectly you'd walked into his trap. How beautifully you begged. His fantasies were more descriptive; he could coach you when he wasn’t starving for your body.

He pulls his fingers free and every part of you protests, squeezing him like a vice to keep him where he is, your whine keening high. Hugo hushes you again, his weight pinning you to the bed. He blankets you with kisses and nips at your skin, reaching between your bodies to stroke himself.

Hugo lines himself up with your hole. He rocks shallowly against you, slick head of his cock slipping into you. His breath catches. Relief fizzles down his limbs; it takes every ounce of effort to pull his tip out of you. Greedy little thing, trying to suck him in before he's ready.

“Hugo,” you whimper, brow furrowed.

He chuckles. He draws his hips away and kisses the pout from your face.

“You'll get what you need when I'm ready.”

If he weren't throbbing, painfully hard and on the verge of dripping all over your sheets, he would enforce that. He would drag this pleasure out. You'd be quaking, kiss-bitten lips parted and pleading for –

“Dick,” you grumble.

His jaw ticks. Maybe there was some brat in you after all. Or maybe, poor thing, you were too hungry for cock to mind your manners.

His hands pinch your hips hard. He flips you onto your stomach in one fluid motion. Readjusting his grip, he drags you to the edge of the bed and kicks your feet apart. You try to lift your head, to turn back and watch. He stops you with his fingers steepled between your shoulder blades, his eyes narrowed to a warning. Hugo rocks his hips against your ass, slow, pointed. His flushed cock slides past where you want him, leaves a sticky trail against your thigh.

Teasing will have to be saved for another time; if he isn’t inside you now then he won’t be able to do anything more than fuck your thighs and cum against your stomach. He presses back to your needy little hole and enters you with a quick thrust.

He buries halfway into you on the first thrust, drives the breath out of you and pulls it into a moan. He pulls back, ruts his tip in and out of you and then presses back in with a slow, deep push. Still not quite ready to take all of him, your hole fluttering and pulsing, his eyes fluttering. Your chest melts to the sheets, your toes curling against the floor. He bends to kiss along your spine, hips driving into you in quick, short bursts.

His hair falls into his face, teeth gritted with the restraint it takes not to plow into you the way he wants. Next time. He will take his time, have you so thoroughly prepared that he'll bottom out on the first thrust, not the fifth. 

He reaches a hand beneath you, roughly shucking your hips up to stroke you. You cry his name and his cock jerks inside of your tight heat. “More– please.”

You’re going to be the death of him. He nearly cums then and there. Hugo draws back and props a leg up against the bed. He drives back into you with a sharp thrust, cock pounding deeper. His balls slap against you, hand stroking you harder. You tighten and pulse around him, open-mouthed moans falling every time he drives into you. You whine his name, tense and clench, knuckles turning white against the sheets and he swears, hips stuttering, heat erupting, showers of pleasure sparking through his fingers.

He pulls out and lays himself against the swell of your ass. A few rough strokes and he cums against your back, your ass, rivulets dripping down to your hole. Hugo engraves the mess he's made into his memory. He thumbs your empty, clenching hole, unable to resist. You make a noise low in the back of your throat, shift your head to eye him like a wary dog. He placates you with a gentle tap to your hip and stumbles back to resist the temptation of your body.

"Let's get you cleaned up," he says, breathless. You start to move from the bed and he stops you with a laugh. "You're going to mess the sheets. Stay just like that."

Hugo’s mind drifts as he wipes down your heated skin. Next time, he swears, he will draw you a bath and lay in it with you against his chest. The time after that, maybe, he’ll lay against your chest. And after that, you’ll lay against opposite sides, face to face, legs twined.

 With all of these next times, he's going to need more than a few more nights with you.

‘Next time’ gets more convenient with a singular stroke of bad luck.

Your apartment building is getting condemned. Oh no, he had droned over the phone. How devastating. It will all work out, he promises. He’ll help you find somewhere to live.

In fact, he already has somewhere in mind. Cheap rent, good view - the landlord is a little nosy, but he’s nice to look at. You’ll love it, he’s certain. As luck would have it, tours will be available within the month.

Hugo had called in every favor at his disposal, tapping friends-of-friends to hastily convert the space above his gallery into a studio apartment. A month’s time was surely enough for the needed renovations. With the talent he had at his disposal, he could make it work. It had been a lot of late nights and a lot of being told ‘no, that’s not possible in forty-eight hours, I need at least a week’, but it had gotten done. It was livable by the time you had walked through for your tour, and by the time you were officially moving in it was almost up to code.

Structurally, it’s sound. He wouldn’t let you move in if he wasn’t certain of that. When he nudges your front door open, though, he still throws a little extra weight into it - just to really be certain it’s sturdy.

“I don't know how to thank you.”

Hugo chuckles as he lowers the last of your boxes to the floor. He dusts his hands against his thighs and leans against the (sturdy, up to code) door frame.

“There's no need for that,” he declares. If he’s honest with himself, the only reason you’re even paying rent is because he knew you would turn the place down if he offered it for free. He thinks of your monthly payments as a ‘tenants improvements and betterments’ fund, already planning to pour it back into the apartment.

You run your thumb along the edge of a box, gaze pointed down, clearly pretending to be sorting through your belongings. He’s intimately familiar with your discomfort. You had explained it to him before, had told him the story of where that particular anxiety began - you hated to feel indebted.

“You sure?” You drawl, playfully spinning your anxiety into flirtation. “I can think of a couple ways to show how grateful I am.”

Hugo tests the floorboards with a strike of his heel, solid thunk sounding through the room. He shakes his head and checks his watch.

"Not during business hours, I'm afraid. I still have soundproofing to do."

There's that pout, begging to be kissed off your face. "There's barely anyone here."

"There's an exhibition in an hour’s time."

"I'll give you an exhibition."

Hugo laughs, ears twitching. You’d become insatiable. He’d created a monster. He pushes off the wall, weaving between boxes.

“I’ll be back to help you unpack after I close up,” he says, kissing your cheek as he passes by. “There really is an exhibition today.” As he shuts your door behind him and heads downstairs, an unfamiliar warmth fills his chest. His heart feels light, floating along on hot air. Tonight, when he comes to see you, he won’t have to slip through the window. He will come home to you from work. He will almost feel normal. It’s not something he’s ever craved, not in large doses - but this slice of peace, he could get used to.

[sfznyxio]

-ˋˏ WITHIN THESE CASTLE WALLS ˎˊ

SYNOPSIS. saving twins from getting killed who turn out to be rulers of the celestia kingdom isn’t part of the plan. neither is being instated as a member of the royal guard as their gratitude. with the alarming increase of assassinations, you’re wary of everyone in the castle. who is your ally or enemy, or who will be the one to capture your heart?

CHARACTERS. albedo, arataki itto, dainsleif, diluc, eula, jean, kaedehara kazuha, kaeya, kamisato ayato, sangonomiya kokomi, tartaglia, thoma, xiao, zhongli

CONTENT. gn!reader. royal au. fluff. 1.3k words. rewrite of within these castle walls [i] at my old main blog @/verxsyon. inspired by fire emblem: three houses. mentions of assassination attempts which many of them failed. assassination attempt (tartaglia). seduction (sangonomiya kokomi).

VERA. can't believe it's been two years since i wrote wtcw. time flies by really fast. i miss this series so much. will i rewrite for the other parts? no, because respectfully, they suck oof. initially, wtcw was supposed to be one part so here it is lol. 

𝄞༉‧₊˚. ALBEDO

a noble descended from a lineage of alchemists. albedo prefers to stay at home to tend to his research and to avoid social interactions. in spite of believing that relationships are bothersome, he’s only interested in you. as an attempt to create a friendship, he brings you flowers which one of his books suggested. he becomes self-conscious that his efforts may not be sufficient, you appear happy when thanking him and complimenting his thoughtfulness. for a split second, an awkward smile graces upon his lips.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. ARATAKI ITTO

a mercenary of oni blood. infamous in his hometown for causing trouble with the authorities with his gang. itto is a popular figure because of his “dashing” looks and abrasiveness. his overconfidence is one reason why you can’t stand him. you never met someone this unbearable. he always disturbs your training by challenging you to a duel, lots of them. comes determined to win the match, but loses every single time. perhaps you’ll indulge him once more, just to see what happens when he finally will be victorious.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. DAINSLEIF

captain of the royal guard and royal advisor to the throne. assassination threats have been circulating throughout the kingdom, so he constantly puts his guard up even though you saved the twins. it’s the fact that they trust a complete stranger with battle experience who can kill them any time. nevertheless, he takes you under his wing in accordance with their wishes. his paranoia is understandable, but you believe he’s too harsh on you. he assigns you extra work to prove your worth as an asset. you hope you’ll survive the initiation process.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. DILUC

head of house ragnvindr, tycoons of the wine industry. everyone swoons over the flame-haired man. one of the girls at the flower shop can’t stop talking about diluc like a knight in shining armor. your opinion of him is that you don’t get the hype. politics are supposedly not that important to him, but it’s a whole different story when the royal guard is involved, opposing their operations. it’s suspicious that his comments align with a vigilante who wears a ridiculous costume at night. for sure, you think he deserves respect to protect the place called home. 

𝄞༉‧₊˚. EULA

exiled daughter of house lawrence, the clan with a tarnished reputation. the twins are gracious enough to grant eula a position of a royal soldier, upsetting the majority of citizens. you admire her dissociation with her clan’s history, wishing everyone sees her past that. she doesn’t deserve hate for something that is beyond her control. you want to befriend her, but her sense of humor is unique in a way that it kind of gives you chills down your spine. if it makes you feel any better, she likes you for seeing her as herself.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. JEAN

head of house gunnhildr. jean dedicates her life to serve the kingdom, to the point where she tends to overwork. more worried about the state of the state more than her own health, she doesn’t know how to reconnect with her younger sister and what romance feels like out of the romance novels she reads. as someone who spends most of their life in one place, you sympathize with her, therefore offering to solve her dilemma. after all, both of you need breaks from interfering with assassinations. she is confused as to why she feels warm when you’re around.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. KAEDEHARA KAZUHA

a former refugee from an insular empire. upon entering the kingdom a few years ago, kazuha was thought to be an assassin which he of course got arrested for, but was pardoned and given the option to live here and serve the crown. in the present, he patrols the seas to fend off intruders. at the end of the shift, he disappears from his crew just to find you. his captain knows that he is smitten with the soldier who was trained as a mercenary. the poems he recites at sea are essentially confession letters in hopes to make you his one day.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. KAEYA

a fellow royal soldier adopted into house ragnvindr. the elderly consider kaeya like their own grandson, but he is so far from angelic. he misleads patrollers to another direction of the crimes and dodges your questions regarding his whereabouts. the citizens might be involved in his antics, avoiding eye contact with you whenever you mention him. apparently, you’re dense, failing to notice the signs of him trying to make a move on you. he’s been doing those things to make you pay attention to him and have you all to himself in private.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. KAMISATO AYATO

head of house kamisato. responsible for managing external affairs, ayato is required to travel, always away for business. although it’s said he goes on trips most of the time, his appearance is a mystery. rumored to be tall with blue hair and a mole near his mouth, everyone joins in the hunt to find him at the royal party, sending his sister and retainer in a frenzy to protect his identity. your dance partner fits the description to a t. when the guests discover that you were dancing with the commissioner, your partner kisses your hand and whisks away into the night. 

𝄞༉‧₊˚. SANGONOMIYA KOKOMI

head of house sangonomiya. kokomi is also its military strategist. having the ability to foresee the tactics and its outcomes of another army, she is a force to be reckoned with and a valuable ally to the crown. you had the pleasure of being invited to her guest room, where she was waiting for you in an extremely thin nightgown. not the type to show emotions, it’s rare to see her amused, and she beckons you to come inside. not only is she well-versed in the art of war, she’s surprisingly an expert in the art of seduction as well.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. TARTAGLIA

a diplomat from a neighboring kingdom, or so he claims to be. there is something about childe that sets him apart from the other diplomats who visited the kingdom. your first encounter with him is not pleasant. a mutual distrust forms between the two of you, yet the space you both share is tense. one night with crazed eyes and a knife at your neck, he reveals that he was assigned to assassinate the twins. you’re in the way, but oddly enough, he doesn’t want to hurt you. it seems like he’s doing this against his will, or it’s the tension talking. 

𝄞༉‧₊˚. THOMA

retainer of house kamisato. thoma is a fan favorite among the royal staff by being the type of servant they needed. honestly, you don’t like him. but you don’t dislike him either. the epitome of perfection, but too perfect for your taste. he’s also too nice for his own good, hearing him apologize things he isn’t at fault for and saying yes to all requests from the staff. as he serves a clan full of swordsmen, he knows how to fight. so when you unleash a surprise attack on him, he doesn’t retaliate. it reminds him of a similar incident in the past that changed his life for the worse.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. XIAO

a deity sworn to protect the kingdom centuries ago as a promise to one draconic god. xiao finds humans strange, but you’re even stranger, as a child who fought against a beast by yourself in the forest, accidentally fulfilling a commission for a mercenary group who struggled to kill it for months. he despises crowds, but decides to pose as a royal soldier to meet you. when you encounter a dangerous creature during your patrol, he comes to your rescue. then he whispers into your ear to call his name in times of desperation before disappearing into thin air.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. ZHONGLI

a knowledgeable historian. zhongli is friendly and enjoys having casual conversations over tea. there isn’t anyone within the castle who has not been invited to his corner of the library. you have been there as a regular you already lost count. from those meetings, you track his mesmerizing amber eyes. you swear that you’ve seen them in some history books of a draconic deity who once presided over this kingdom. it’s impossible, as higher beings perished during the cataclysm, but the glint in his eyes says otherwise.

[redflagshipwriter]

Mamabat 10 part 1/2

Chapter 10 : Calling from Hell just to say the demons are suspiciously absent, is that fine?

masterpost

“Fucking Batman,” Val said under her breath. Her Red Huntress mask muffled the words and made them come out even meaner than she probably meant them. “Years late and too little, even if he’s not working with the GIW.”

Sam hefted her requisitioned Fenton bazooka and pressed her lips even further together. None of them liked this at all. It stank. It was suspicious. Danny hadn’t sounded distressed, but he’d been out of contact too long for such a short conversation to put her at ease. There hadn’t even been time to update him on what had gone on in Amity Park.

“There.” Sam followed Val’s pointer finger to see the nearly invisible outline of a jet in the faint light. It was landing in the right field. 

“It’s them or it’s a trap,” Sam muttered.

Val let out a mean laugh. “If it’s someone we don’t expect, they’re the ones in trouble.”

Sam huffed and said nothing. She couldn’t disagree, but Val seemed too confident for her comfort. They waited in tense silence to see the jet come to a landing. Not long after, a hatch popped open and the distinctive ears of Batman himself were the first out into the cold night air of a January night in Amity Park. 

He was quickly followed by smaller figures- 1, 2, 3 of them. Sam felt nerves churning in her gut. She tried to channel them into aggression. She had to be tough, tougher than usual. There was no cavalry waiting to help out.

Well, there was Tucker, but he was probably going to be more useful in the wings to feed them information. He was pretty good aim with a thermos but that wouldn’t do jack about Batman and a small flock of, what, junior associates?

“Does Batman work with children?” Sam asked under her breath. One of them was genuinely small.

Tucker snickered on the other end of the line. “Uh,  there’s supposed to be a Robin. Guy in yellow, green, and red I guess? Aside from that, there’s debatably like, 6 former Robins associated with him. But there’s also the Justice League’s junior varsity team, so it’s hard to say.”

She frowned at the lineup. She saw purple, black, and red. There was- yeah, okay, there was quite a bit of yellow when the little guy faced them, but she didn’t see any green.

“Showtime,” Val said. Sam crouched further behind cover as the other girl zoomed out on her hoverboard, effortlessly drawing Batman’s eye. She adjusted the dial on her sound settings to hear Val’s feed just a little louder.

“Batman.”

“You have me at a disadvantage.” Sam cringed at the gravely voice over her sound system. Batman sounded like he smoked a pack a day. She turned the volume down just a hint.

“Not really, there’s four of you,” Val said breezily. Sam suppressed a snort at the dodge. “You wanna meet Jazz Fenton? You’re going to have to prove that you’re not a plant. There’s a GIW facility-”

“Two miles west of here, yes,” Batman interrupted. “I researched.”

“Great. Do you have ground transport?”

“Of course. What is it that you expect me to prove?”

“That you’re not with them.” The subtle whine of Valerie’s weapons started up. Sam only heard it because she was hooked up to the helmet. “They do experimentation and keep prisoners. Show me that you’re not a cop.”

“The police would not support the capture and abuse of people.”

Valerie made a skeptical sound in the back of her throat. Sam couldn’t blame her. “Yeah, but they do.” Her hoverboard’s jet whooshed up in power. “Meet me there, outside the main gate.” She was off like a shot in the dark. 

The four out of towners didn’t take long to get four silent motorcycles out and dash down the lane. Sam thought about what she’d heard as she cut a more direct route on Valerie’s spare hoverboard, taken from Vlad’s deserted mechanics lab. 

Either Batman was a liar, naive, or he was exactly what they were worried he might be. The Justice League was famously affiliated with governments. Wonder Woman was even a member of the United Nations! If someone accepted the claim that Infinite Realms Residents weren’t really people, then they’d say just what Batman had. It wasn’t lying if you didn’t think the people you were hurting were really people.

Sam watched from a distance as the group reached the gated facility. One of Batman's people did something that unlatched the electronic security system. It swung open. 

“Not shabby,” Tucker said quietly. “I coulda done it faster.”

“Not unless it goes off the rails,” Sam reminded him. She clenched a fist against her thigh. They needed to see Batman's real colors before they risked him knowing about their group. It was hard to outplan what you didn't know about, and they'd need every advantage they could get. 

She let them all go ahead before she followed onto the property. It was eerily deserted, tire tracks where dozens of white Vans ought to have been. 

The GIW had deserted Amity Park weeks ago. They were pretty sure there was a skeleton crew stationed out here, but no one came and left anymore. They only occasionally saw an agent wander across the path of a security camera, which were sparse inside the building.

But that didn't mean it wasn't dangerous to be here. Even now, a camera swiveled over the lawn, blinking a clear light that was easy to miss during the day. There was a reason that they hadn't risked a second raid after Danny had barely made it out last time. 

Sam swallowed, hard. The bitterness in her mouth felt a lot like guilt. Who knew what the GIW had been doing? They could have someone else held captive. It was a big building. Danny might have missed someone when he was breaking Vlad out. 

‘We did what we could, and we are making a move now.’ 

She repositioned her weapon and waited, tense with nerves. All she was meant to do now was follow along via what she heard on Val's comms and be in the wings to facilitate an escape, if needed. 

“Left,” said Batman quietly. The comms were quiet for a long moment, then- “clear. Clear. Clear.” 

Sam shifted her weight from one foot to the other. 

“Red Robin.” 

“Got it,” came a response, barely audible. Val must have been hanging close to Batman, then. 

“You think now's a good time to try their computers?” Val said helpfully. 

Tucker snorted. “Could just ask,” he sang to himself, cocky as hell. “I know all.”

Sam rolled her eyes. He didn't know all. About half of the property was disconnected from the security system, meaning they had no eyes on whatever was down there. 

“Six stationed here.” 

That had to be Red Robin’s voice. Sam cocked her head and focused on it, frowning slightly. Did it sound young?

Tucker's computer chair made a click when he sat up too fast. “Wait, what? How'd-” His end of the line devolved into rapid typing. 

“Did you find a schedule?” 

“No, it's not in the system. They're on paper, I suppose.” Seconds passed. “My bet is that labs would be in this wing.” 

“Be my guest,” Val drawled. Sam could all but see her crossing her arms across her chest. 

The line went silent for a while. Then, faintly, there came the sound of a metal door opening. 

“Fu-” A GIW blaster went off. “Intru-”

The alarm was cut off before the GIW goon got out a full word, but odds were good he'd been heard anyway. Sam flexed her hands. Sitting this out sucked. She wanted to see what was happening. How many agents were there?

“Robin!” Batman snapped. 

‘The little one?’

Sam felt vaguely ill. They had to be okay. This was Batman’s team.

[ma1dita]

when the curtains close

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader prev -> love me dry | next -> asking for trouble words: 5.3k summary: (post-tlt) The one where you lose two people in the Labyrinth that day. All strings are cut. (Pollux, Annabeth, Percy, and Mr. D find out the biggest difference between you and Luke.) (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader) a/n: yeah to me this fic sounds and feels like that tiktok of the girl humming to her microwave. depictions of the titular battle of the labyrinth at CHB, some blood/gore, death & grief. the usual. you forced me to by lizzy mcalpine. references to cat on a hot tin roof by tennessee williams if you squint (posted 5/14/24)

—

The first time Pollux has a panic attack, time seems to stop and the world keeps moving on without him.

He’s reminded of a time when you rambled on about how anxiety takes possession of the senses like a moment frozen in a snapshot meant for you to identify. In the memory, you had your feet kicked up on the dash flipping through a DSM-5 while he and Castor took turns speeding up and down Farm Road (totally normal older sister behavior from you, and when a cop pulled you over, the three of you narrowly escaped a ticket by talking in riddles and godly smoke that smelled like grapes). Pollux still remembers the sound of laughter in the car blending like three different chords to an archaic melody (or squawking crows in the strawberry fields)— the bond between you three laid out before time knew limits and was always meant to be.

It’s still his favorite song. You’re their favorite (and only) sister, they love to joke. These are facts that will never change.

“You two have each other, and well, I’ve got this,” you had said, the Zippo flicking open and closed against your thumb in the blossoming darkness of the car. Pink and purple rays of waning light blanketed the old hatchback as it steadily made its way back towards Half-Blood Hill, comfortable silence shared in the way only siblings can stand to be quiet—when there are no words needed to get a point across. But you’ve always set yourself apart from the pack, not needing anyone like how they need each other.

Not since Luke left, at least. The growing distance between you three since your untimely resignation from camp was proof enough. Pollux’s eyes met Castor’s in the rearview mirror as they both noticed your sad smile. His brother’s voice broke through the silence then, having always been the one blunt enough to say what was on his mind, “You’ve got us too if you let us see you more often.” Your fidgeting stops.

“It’s not you two, it’s just hard to be back here sometimes. I see things for what they used to be instead of how they really are now. Now it’s just… it has to be all business.”

Pollux cracked a smile, “S’what you get for growing up. Soon we’ll just be annoying voices in your head like you are to us.” Shutting your textbook, you turned to look at them from the passenger seat, eyes that match theirs darting between their blond heads, “All of us have to grow up eventually. Except maybe you two— I prefer you in my nightmares like the kids from The Shining. Whenever you get sick of Dad, come see me. Gods know that camp deserves a break from the two of you too.” Your knuckles knocked against both of their heads affectionately as he put the car in park, “My built-in bodyguards, huh? Always looking out for me.”

All words and meaning escape Pollux now as he stands in the greenery of the North Woods with battle gear ill-fitted to his large frame. It’s the first siege he’s ever taken part in, the first time he’s had to use battle strategies outside of Capture the Flag and the first time he’s slashed his way through monsters and demigods with the intent to try and kill or be killed. Sword and Shield could have never prepared any of them for this—as his eyes meet Castor’s and then yours with all of you thinking the same thing, the three of you join the sea of iridescent orange through mind-numbing black moving like a sharp three-pronged sword.

This type of stuff isn’t typical for him, he thinks. He and Castor are used to being comedic relief— being the source of laughs and juice boxes for pesky little campers instead of facing the real world outside the boundaries of the Mist. Perhaps your father babied them to make up for the time he lost with you, but there’s a moment where he wonders how being kept soft will keep him alive in a world as harsh as this one.

Childlike innocence is ripped away from them in the bubble they’ve inhabited until this moment. Home is now a warzone and like lambs set up for slaughter, the twins both turn to look at you as a shuddering gasp leaves your mouth at the carnage in your surroundings, monster blood and fallen friends and enemies at your feet. Breaking away from formation to take a deep breath, he looks at the sky and wonders where your father is, but smoke and soot fill his lungs and he coughs desperately for a breath of fresh air.

Pollux thinks he must have stopped breathing before Castor took his last breath. It wasn’t supposed to be a competition, but sometimes life was just funny like that.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

Just like you told him.

Castor was always the more manic one while Pollux knew how to endure. Children of Dionysus are forced to befriend insanity before it makes an enemy out of them—twisting the ugly into what’s real and creating something beautiful out of the deranged. You’ve shown the boys how you detach from emotion by recognizing the details—separating fact and fiction, a methodical process only describable by the blood that runs through your veins. Pollux doesn’t know where to start—everything happens so fast but it plays out in front of him like someone put the pieces together to a stop-motion animation.

He sees Castor’s sword fall to the ground when he gets slashed on the forearm and sees him get clubbed over the head with a metal weapon he’s only seen bad renditions forged for theater practices and hanging on the walls of the armory. Castor falls first to his knees, and then into the dirt with a thud. He never knew there could be that much blood coming out of a person, much less a mirror image of himself. Pollux sees your face come into his line of vision, deep maroon splatters on your face glittering with hints of ichor and then you’re moving because he can’t. The enemy is coming back for him now, and for a moment he wonders if Castor will be mad if he lets him. He sees you turn in an instant, swinging your sword down on the neck of the aggressor, a teenager not much older than he and his brother are—were. It’s funny how his brain immediately makes the switch to past tense, and how he can’t stop thinking about how he’ll now and forever be older than his twin. Pollux then sees you catch the body of the boy you just killed as life seeps out of him slower than it did for Castor.

It doesn’t make him feel any better, though.

His knees hit the ground next to his twin, touching the sludge of dirt soft like quicksand and moist with what he hopes is not blood, but Pollux is not quite sure of what else there is to hope for. His fist is wrapped around Castor’s shirtsleeve, touching faded orange and sweat as he holds on for dear life. Maybe if he tries hard enough his soul will still be intertwined with his. Your hand touches his shoulder, five fingers reaching out to brush the back of his neck and the feeling of your skin helps him refocus a bit, even if you’re saying something he can’t make out. Then the metal of your Zippo lighter feels cool to the touch within his palm and he knows what he needs to do.

The battle isn’t over, but for the three of you, everything stops here. There is no going forward without your brother. You were never meant to be children of war.

Pollux hears the sound of his heartbeat thundering through his ears, blood rushing through his veins and can’t help but notice the silence amid the chaos. There are no words fit for this—and even if there were, Castor and you were always the more talkative ones. He hears the spark of the purple flame between his fingers, blowing the smoke over him and his brother’s body, and their father’s powers blanket them like how you used to tuck them into bed, warm and safe. This is what your family is—unconventional and unending even in different realms of existence. And then Grover’s scream of panic echoes through the air and everyone hears that. Hysteria ensues as monsters and demigods alike run amok, and Pollux realizes he’s stopped shaking.

In his father’s domain, he will always find comfort.

You stand above him now directing campers calmly with a free hand—a brewing storm crackling underneath your skin that he now understands. Hidden by the illusion of smoke, Pollux’s tired bones rest alongside his brother’s dead ones— together as they always were meant to be.

The three of you together, his little family—that is a fact he hoped would never change.

The smell of grapes envelops him as he leans his forehead against your muddy leg… when did the battle end? It almost masks the scent of death that rips through the air as your hand brushes through his sandy hair. Pollux stinks of sweat and you stifle a laugh as you see him smell his armpit. You three were always the same type of fucked up. He doesn’t look down at Castor laid across his lap but knows he would’ve found it funny too. Ignorance of reality even for a moment serves as a comfort. Purple meets purple as he looks up at you with a smile that doesn’t fit his face anymore and he croaks, “Wonder what dad would say about our first battle…”

Glory was never meant to be this bittersweet—it tastes like blood in his mouth until he wipes it away from his cheek and realizes it’s Castor’s. In a way, it’s his too, everything about him and within him is exactly the same down to the star stuff the fates wove them from.

“I’ll be the one to tell him. You take care of Castor,” you answer, as if there’s anything else he would want to do and then he realizes you’re crying— and he’s seeing all of the pieces put together in front of him in this photograph in his mind.

Pollux blinks slowly.

Suddenly the image he has of you is more defined— there is new meaning to the sadness you could never shake off all these years, and he is too young to lose his greatest love, which makes him realize then that so were you.

How long does this have to go on? he wonders, grabbing onto your hand with an eagerness only comparable to the feeling he got when you and Luke whisked him and Castor away from Florida all those years ago. This punishment of living while half of his soul does not—what is he supposed to do next? This was supposed to be the safe place. There is nowhere left to run. His thumb rubs circles into the back of your shaking blood-soaked hand, a secret within the smoke.

Pollux thinks there will always be a part of him frozen in time now, a memory of this day hung up in his mind like a portrait as he holds Castor’s cold hand in his warm one.

—

Annabeth finds you in the middle of the strawberry fields before the sun sets. She knows you won’t be sleeping tonight, not if you can fight it— not when there’s so much to do. You’ve long grown out of your ripped-up and tie-dyed camp shirts, and the one slung on your frame is newly pressed and starchy from the storage room of the Big House, still stiff against your freshly washed skin. When she’s close enough to touch you, you’ve been scrubbed clean of today.

She doesn’t have to be a daughter of Athena to know that you know that she’s there even if you can’t see her, but for once she feels like she has to hide. For once, Annabeth Chase doesn’t know what to say. How can she explain the feeling of guilt that coils around her brain like barbed wire—how can she even begin to apologize for the thing wearing her brother’s skin, knowing that it killed yours? For once, her hubris is crushed by the sinking feeling of humiliation.

“Was your first quest all you thought it would be, Annie?”

As she takes her navy cap off, silver braided strands around her face wave in the wind as a reminder of what Luke put her through. Though as she looks at you now with your berry-stained fingers plucking at stems one by one instead of using your powers, she thinks that your mind is elsewhere—anywhere but here, where everything is a painful reminder of your five years as a camper.

Five years with Luke.

Mourning him isn’t a new feeling for either of you, even though he comes in and out of your lives like a poltergeist you want to bash across the head, just always out of reach. But he’s a constant, even when he’s not here and he’s what binds you two together as you huddle hidden away from the rest of camp.

“He did this for you.”

It’s not a question, more so a fact out of Annie’s mouth when you finally meet her eyes and sigh, “Luke’s always had a way going about things. The most stubborn man to ever live.” You toss another strawberry into the crate at your feet. No one’s working right now, trying to tend to the injured and the dead. Everyone’s doing their best to chase away the nightmares that are bound to come, and she knows you’ll be making rounds with her on the night shift to ease everyone’s anxieties. But there’s a thought so strong it makes her head hurt, bursting at the seams until she can’t stop with her last-ditch effort to fix her found family.

“Maybe if we find him, we can save—”

“He’s been out of time for a while now, Annabeth. We both knew that,” you say, voice firm and unwavering. You’ve never sounded so monotone before, and it hits her as her mouth falls agape, “You’re giving up on him? Why… why would you give up on him?” Anger courses through her veins like fire and she’s mad that she’s at the center of this prophecy, of Hermes’s anger for his doomed son who will love you until the ends of the earth.

And what of her?

What of the hope she has in happy endings, how is it that you’re so damn calm? Annabeth kicks at the crate, strawberries rolling out in different directions and your jaw tightens as you let her be petulant, let her scream and yell until her inner child can catch up with the reality of the world around you.

“How could you?”

Your name echoes as she repeats it, grabbing at your shoulders and she’s as desperate as the truth that shakes her when you cup her face in your hands and wipe her tears.

“You’ve carried the weight of the world Annabeth– you know what it feels like to let it go. It’s time to let him go. There’s nothing I can do or say to fix this.”

Then it hits her that you knew of his fate and yet this was still the outcome. There was nothing else to do but watch him be puppeteered by a Titan and have to fight evil while it wears his face.

“He came to you after he saw me, didn’t he? Why didn’t you tell me? Why don’t you love him anymore?”

Because it wouldn’t have changed a thing, your eyes say. Instead, you grimace as you say, “Wouldn’t that be funny if it were true?” You lean down and pick up the fallen berries, some bruised and covered in dirt, and then you look at her again with teary eyes.

“Some prophecy huh? To lose a love to worse than death. What could we have done besides love him until the end?”

“He’s still in there. I know you know that too. Don’t talk about him like he’s not,” Annabeth insists, and a sad smile settles upon your face. It’s as gentle as the kiss of the breeze on your cheeks.

“I lost a brother today, Annie.”

“Me too.”

—

The funny thing about planning funerals is that with all the fuss it takes to organize one, you still find extra time on your hands. Barely getting any sleep and dragging yourself out of your dad’s bed, Pollux snores loudly next to you after hours of working on Castor’s shroud. Sleep wasn’t expected for either of you, but being unconscious was the only way of giving your brains a reprieve. The both of you have been busy doubling down on the preparations, even if it means Mr. D won’t be back in time while he’s out rallying gods for war.

The faster Castor’s earthly body is reconnected with his soul, the easier his trip will be into the Underworld, Nico says, and it’s funny how comforting the little emo pipsqueak can be when it comes to matters of death.

Perhaps this is the solace you bring to others with things you’re able to control—keeping camp afloat is something you were always good at, and helping every traumatized child that comes up to you for a juice box or a lullaby eases the guilt that follows you. Walking around Camp Half-Blood for more than a weekend made you feel like a judge, jury, and executioner. Though most of the campers from almost five years ago have either aged out, defected, or died—the ones that remain still look at you like you’re trouble.

Perhaps you always will be.

You even found yourself with the time to pray to Hermes last night for your brother’s safe passage into the afterlife, though if he’s angry at Annabeth, he must hate you for letting Luke go. Dinner didn’t seem appetizing enough anyway, so your whole plate was tossed into the hearth. You hope he likes chicken and rice.

But if a god can’t fight fate, what did he expect you to do?

The Iris Message to your dad last night was difficult, to say the least. Pollux’s hands shook as he continued to paint grape vines onto the silk cloth and the both of you didn’t say anything when your father started to cry. He out of all of the gods knows what it’s like to be tested to the limits—to endure pain and it’s a gift you and your brother are grateful for in times like these. Watching the god display the human emotion that either of you couldn’t as freely made it more real though.

There was also the interesting predicament of Chris Rodriguez being locked up in the basement of the Big House. Replacing screaming fits with serenity was almost second nature, and your gentle hands were what got Clarisse to truly respect you again for the first time in years. You could hear her sneak downstairs and talk to him while he slept (and the look in her eyes when you’d greet her with a cup of coffee made it known to you that she finally understands what it means to love someone who’s lost—two demigod daughters filled with a lot of rage and hurt were more alike than they think).

So the morning of your little brother’s funeral, you found yourself on the shoreline of Canoe Lake, setting your Redbull against the post of the dock and looking out onto the water.

You needed to do something with your hands. In the past few days, if your fingers were not occupied by pen and paper, a guitar, supply crates, or anything else that was helpful to others and all the more distracting for you, it’s been so easy to pick at any little thing. Perhaps it was your subconscious trying to reflect the damage on the inside, but today, your nail polish was chipped beyond belief. A small price to pay to not lose it without a signature boyish smile to ease your worries and amber eyes that could help you escape from the routine.

Running camp was always easier back then with your runaway boy and his scarred cheek.

How pathetic.

Crouched over in the sand, you plucked stones and filled your pockets with them. They knocked against each other — weighing your pockets down as you walked closer to the dock. Swinging your feet off the side and chucking them into the water, you could barely achieve a ripple.

It’s so quiet that you end up wondering if the rocks in your pockets would weigh you down to the bottom of the lake. It must be nice down there, to exist away from everything.

Bubbles surface slowly in front of you, then Percy’s head bobs in the water as he squints at you through sunlight.

“You chucked a rock at my head!”

A smile tugs at your lips, almost indiscernible but definitely there, “I was trying to skip them. Didn’t know you were doing water tricks in there, kid.” His grin gleams like freshwater pearls, pulling himself up onto the dock as his hand clasps yours. Shaking his sopping hair, Percy’s gangly frame sits next to yours like a wet bag of sand—all wrinkly and misshapen and sprinkling you with lakewater.

“Maybe next time don’t pick rocks the size of your fist. How many have you got in there? Your aim is scarily accurate,” he laughs and you huff and shake your head when his hand sticks into your pocket and takes out a few smooth ones to roll around in his hand. You mirror him, watching him skip a few stones into the water that reach a good distance before sinking into the depths of the lake.

There’s something sad about feeling comfortable to trauma dump on the teenage son of Poseidon, but with the way he grabs your arm at your third unsuccessful toss of a rock, you can’t do anything else but sigh.

“Why didn’t any of you call me, Percy?”

He was waiting for this question—it’s been banging around in his head since the beginning of Annabeth’s quest, and perhaps her talk with you yesterday didn’t go as expected so once again he’s left with the difficult part.

Things happen to turn out pretty difficult for him a lot, he's noticed.

Many things could have been made easier in the past few weeks: Ariadne being your stepmother and her blessing to you would’ve made the Labyrinth easier to navigate, and having another demigod to fight alongside him instead of a mortal girl would’ve been a plus too. But he looks at you with ocean eyes and a smaller smile that reminds you of how he looked at you when you dropped him off in Montauk the summer you met him and quit your head counselor job.

“You’ve already made a lot of difficult decisions. We weren’t sure if…”

The rotten wood beneath you creaks under your shifting weight as you turn to him, tucking your legs underneath your bottom.

“Didn’t think I could handle it?”

He shakes his head, “The opposite, actually. Annabeth has this notion that you’re the only one that can save him. You know, back on my first quest I met Luke’s dad and he told me something…”

You swallow instead of answering. There’s no way Percy is giving you Hermes’s advice right now. Somehow this feels like karmic retribution after years of spiting that asshole, and what he tells you next is more of a sign that it must be true.

“He said, ‘Do you know what that feels like? To be so close to someone you love knowing neither of you has any choice but to keep hurting each other?’ I didn’t get it then, but I do now.”

“With Luke and his mom?” you ask, picking at the remaining slivers of varnish on your thumbnail.

“With you and Luke. I didn’t call you, because… why would I want to see you hurt after everything?” Percy says this like it’s something he would do for everyone.

Perhaps it is, but the knot that forms in your throat feels as heavy as the boulder you almost sunk into his skull. He’s tall enough to lean your head against now, and you don’t mind the water spots that will form along the side of your funeral outfit. The shape of him it leaves will remind you of the little brother you gained through so much loss.

“Plus he has a new girlfriend. Absolute horse of a girl,” he jokes. It slips over your head but you still giggle, “I could’ve taken her.”

“I know, that was Grover’s worry. You’re prettier anyway…” Percy pauses, and then clears his throat, “You’ve always taken care of this place, y’know? Even after….I just think someone ought to take care of you.”

Your shoulder bumps against his as you finally skip a rock. It only bounces across the water twice and you think Percy might have had something to do with it, but you’re not bothered by the help this time around.

—

You wake up in the dark of night to see your dad looming in the doorway to his office. With drool and a post-it stuck to your cheek, he comes over to ruffle your hair in amicable silence.

“Hard at work or hardly working?” he chuckles, leaning over your shoulder to scan over the paperwork sorted into piles for him to sign from his absence.

“Hm. You wish,” you scoff, leaning against your arm as you look at him. He’s not in his usual eyesore of attire, wearing a clean-pressed suit with his hair slightly slicked back.

“You look good. The meeting went okay?”

“Grover will be fine. The Council of Cloven Elders? Not so much. Neither are the gods ready to take sides. Putting out little fires everywhere as we speak.”

The wheels of the office chair roll as you swing your feet, and if you both listen closely enough you can hear Pollux snoring upstairs. Chiron loved the earplugs you gave him.

Your father’s face smooths out a bit at the sight of you and the sound of his son’s breathing upstairs and he asks, “Are you? Good?”

A shrug slides off your shoulders, “How does one be good in a world like this one?”

A startling scream echoes off the walls of the Big House, rattling the floorboards from below as your father grimaces.

The work is never done for you two.

“Don’t look at me like that. It was worse when he first came here.”

“Don’t doubt it,” he mumbles, brushing lint off your shirt before he notices you’re donning neon orange. “Didn’t do laundry, princess?”

“Pollux and I haven’t gone back to our cabin since... I can wake him up if you—”

Mr. D shakes his head and goes to toss his body onto the couch against the window, shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath.

“Dad? Do you think Chris is a bad person?”

A beat passes and you think he may have fallen asleep, but then his voice sounds like gravel scraping up his throat.

“I don’t think anyone can be bad, kid. I think it is more often that people get lost. What Rodriguez needs is someone to take hold of him gently, and hand his life back to him—you…Clarisse… that’s what we’re giving him.”

Now you’re silent, staring at the dust on his name placard at the edge of the desk.

“Do you think otherwise?”

He calls your name again, and you look up like you’re about to lie to him but don’t have the energy to.

“Princess, do you think you’re a bad person?”

He stands up and walks around to your side of the desk, sitting on the edge so you have to look at him.

“I killed someone. During the battle. Didn’t even think twice about it, slashed his neck as soon as Castor went down and…” you sniff. “I kill monsters, Dad, not children. How does that make me any different?”

The last time blood was on your hands like this it was Luke’s in the Garden of Hesperides. All these years later you ended up being right— the only person you vowed to get bloody for is Luke Castellan, and now in a twisted turn of fate, you’ve bloodied your hands because of him.

“Because you did it for your brother. There are no other explanations needed.”

He sees the exhaustion in your eyes, the drop in your shoulders, but your dad also sees the strength in your bones that spans generations and he knows you and Pollux are strong because you are both his.

“Humans believe in life everlasting—glory, as some call it, but they’re too focused on achieving it on earth instead of enjoying what life has to offer,” he scoffs, “Everyone has the guts to die, but no one has the guts to truly live. How sad.”

“His name was Rowan. Son of Hecate. I taught him how to whistle the summer I left. This is all my fault, Dad,” you say shakily as he comes near and pulls you into his side. He shushes you but you relent.

“Luke’s killing all these people to fulfill a promise he made for me. I’m just fucking disgusted with myself for being the cause of it all. What good life can I deserve when wherever I go I leave a trail of blood?”

Love and addiction must be so alike; to know that to be sober you can’t indulge in the vice ever again—not only does it hurt you, but others around you. But through the years you’ve always kept the taste of his name in your mouth, the feeling of his skin under your fingertips, and the knowledge of why he’s destroying the world so he can make you a better one. Insanity stems from fighting for so long that you embrace the pain; feeling something so intensely that when it consumes you you’re able to walk out the other side and wear it as armor.

Not everyone is hardwired to persevere.

There are moments like a night like these where it would be easy to give up. Instead, you pour two glasses of whiskey you’ve conjured and hand one to your dad. You both sip on your drinks slowly, embracing the crawling feeling of the burn.

“Liquor is one way out and death is another,” your dad sighs blissfully. He almost looks rejuvenated by the alcohol he knows he’ll hear about from Zeus later, but perhaps the death of his son is a good enough pardon.

“For some of us, we don’t have to think about the answer.”

Mr. D grabs a pen off the desk and starts signing papers to do something with his hands, and then you speak again, “I think I’d rather die for people I love,” and your dad’s attention whips to your blank face staring at the moon outside the window. “Instead of killing for them. I’ve never been a good soldier, Dad.”

Mr. D looks at you thoughtfully and wonders where all the time has gone that you sit there in front of him with more knowledge than him at your mortal age before saying, “You’re my daughter. You’re a fighter. Death is for chumps anyway.”

He lifts you by the arm to try to usher you up the stairs but you stay in his office chair swatting his hands away.

“Got work to do, you and I. Not getting rid of me until it’s done.”

“When are you going home?” he asks, pulling up a chair next to yours.

“I am home.”

You don’t look up from the papers you were filing, stubbornness leaking through your voice.

“If there is a war coming, I want to be home as much as I can. I’m finishing my last semester and I’ll be here before and after classes. You can’t stop me, dad.”

And he knows that too.

There is no such thing as leaving Camp Half-Blood for you.

Never for too long. Your love for it is scattered everywhere campers can see.

—

In all these years, you never believed I loved you. And I did. I did so much. I did love you. I even loved your hate and your hardness. - Tennessee Williams

[starlightxsvt]

Beautiful Liar | part of the Treacherous Tales Series

pairing ➳ dk x fem!reader

genre ➳ mafia au, dark romance? angst, smut.

wc ➳ 16.8k

synopsis ➳ you have old scores to settle and he's a pretty pawn in your game. but one must remember obsession leads to destruction.

warnings ➳ violence, mentions of mafia, murder, kidnapping & suicide, stalking, breaking and entering, manipulation, gambling, mention of rape, protected sex, teasing, male oral.

playlist ➳ beautiful liar- monsta x, vigilante shit- taylor swift, part goddess part gangster- madalen duke, horns-bryce fox, don't blame me- taylor swift, no body no crime- taylor swift, the hills- the weekend.

"I need him."

Your words dissipate into the cool air inside the car as your gaze remains focused out your window, trained on one certain man.

"What do you need me to do?" Changkyun immediately asks with violence underlying in his tone. You click your tongue in disapproval, not letting your eyes stray from your pretty prey. "You won't be doing anything this time. He is mine."

The man sitting in the driver's seat next to you only grunts in reply.

Through the passenger side window, you keep observing him, as the man smiles and talks to some students before taking his leave, walking inside another building as he disappears from your sight, making you sigh.

"Okay. You actually do need to do something."

"What?"

"Get me his schedule."

-

Theatre and drama were never your thing. Yet, here you sit, in Professor Lee's class as he talks about the history of theatre.

While the lecture itself is boring and definitely not worth the trouble you went through to sneak into his class as you are not a student, the man himself is pleasing to listen to and look at.

There is something boyish and innocent about him and as you watch him give the lecture, his voice so sweet and soothing that it is almost impossible to believe that he is related to the Lee family.

The two-hour lecture is surprisingly quick to pass by as you sit at the very back of the classroom, watching him carefully. With the clock striking 2 pm, the lecture finishes and students clear out of the classroom, leaving you behind who sits immobile in her place.

That manages to capture Professor Lee's attention. He takes off his reading glasses and tilts his head to look at you, blinking as if he's trying to remember you from somewhere.

With an amused smile playing on your lips, you stand up from your seat and strut to the podium slowly.

"Good afternoon, Professor." You greet, holding out a hand. He takes a look at your face and then your hand before softly shaking it. "Good afternoon. I don't think you are a student of mine."

Up close, the man looks dashing. Perfect sharp features; prominent cheekbones and a sharp nose, soft plump lips on his slightly tanned skin. Covered up to the neck with a white turtleneck underneath a black cashmere suit, he looks far from what he truly is.

So innocent, so deceitful.

You grin. "You are absolutely correct, Professor Lee. I am not."

He looks amused as well, raising a brow with the expectation that you are going to explain yourself.

"I am just a fan, you could say."

"Oh really?"

"Yes. I came across your presentation at the Royal Opera House this July. I have been a fan ever since."

"Well...I am pleased to hear that. I hope I have managed to inspire you in some way."

"Oh, you have. Plenty." You can't refrain from a grin.

"I am glad then." He pauses for a beat as he takes a look at his watch. "You'll have to excuse me now. I have a meeting soon."

"Of course. I just wanted to say hi. Have a nice day." You take a step back.

The man nods, giving you a small smile as he starts walking out of the classroom, his shoes clicking on the floor. He looks gorgeous even from behind, the afternoon sun streaming from the windows in the hallway casting around him in an angelic glow.

Just as he is about to fully exit the classroom, he stops and turns his head. "I didn't get your name, though. Where are you from?"

You can't help but smile diabolically. "From the wrong side of the tracks, professor."

-

Professor Lee has a pretty house, made up of a rustic brick structure and well furnished black tiles for the roof, a perfect blend of modern and old. The wooden fence around the perimeter of the house is not hard for you to cross as you make your way through his yard, careful not to step anywhere that would leave a trace.

The perfect time to break into his place is now, midday, as he is currently busy teaching a class. Changkyun is keeping an eye on him, camped outside the university, ready to inform you if his position changes as you take your time combing through his house.

The front of his house has a CCTV camera, which is precisely why you broke in through the back. Carefully crossing the yard, you tiptoe along the side of the house and turn right where there is a window. Making sure that you are in a blind spot, you pry the window open after a small struggle and gingerly make your way in like a sneaky cat.

His house is beautiful, exactly fitting his image. The floors are made of dark wood as well as most of the furniture; a dark yet soothing vibe emanating from his abode. The window you used to get in leaves you in a small hallway and after looking around a little, you get a general sense of direction.

Straight from the hallway, there is his bedroom which is where you head first. You are somewhat disappointed when you find it so sterile. The room, composed of a queen sized bed, a dresser and a closet is pristine. Everything is neat, not a hair out of place as if no one lives here. There is no decoration, no trace of personalization like a picture or a painting which you find odd because you expected something that would indicate his ties to his dear family.

Not letting the disappointment get to you, you walk out of the bedroom, heading for the closed door on the left; twisting the knob, you open the door to find his study and a smile spreads on your lips.

It's a fairly large room, the walls on both sides surrounded by large mahogany shelves containing books about art, literature and others. You carefully step in, heading straight for the large desk in the middle.

To your utter disappointment, it doesn't contain any schedule or indication about the life of crime that he comes from. There is not a single sign that would tell anyone that he is the younger brother of the notorious ruler of District 1.

Instead, aside from his computer on the desk, there are only a few books related to theatre on one side and a few lecture sheets on the other. It is so unexpected that you are stunned to silence, standing in the middle of the room, almost starting to think that you came to the wrong house.

Changkyun's sudden voice from the bluetooth disrupts your thoughts. "___, he is leaving early. He just got in his car. I'm following him. You have about 15 minutes to get out of there."

"Fine," you mutter.

There is still enough time. But by the looks of this, you could have all the time in the world and still not find anything that would tell you he's one of the heirs to District 1.

Grunting you lean down and start checking the drawers only to find nothing; no secret meeting location, nothing that you can use to blackmail him or anything that will lead you to the main culprit, his brother.

Sighing, you stand up straight and look around the room. Maybe he is being extra cautious and doesn't keep any evidence here. Maybe he has a secret hideout for his life of crime.

The idea, however, doesn't make sense because you have been stalking him and the only place he frequents is the university.

It's odd.

It almost feels like he doesn't have any connection with District 1.

No, no. That doesn't make any sense.

"___, you have 10 minutes!"

"I know, I know!" You snap, annoyed.

Walking over to the bookshelves you gently drag your fingers over the spine of each book, hoping maybe one of them would be the key to opening a secret room behind the shelves.

Nothing like that happens.

Accepting your defeat, you come out of the house but not before placing a bug underneath the table in his study with the hopes of getting some information by spying on him. Crossing the fence, you take special care to make sure you didn't leave behind any trace of entry before finally exiting the perimeter of the house.

Once safely out of the range of his house, you stand on the opposite side of the road and watch Professor Lee pull up a few minutes later. Changkyun's car follows him half a minute later as he drives straight to where you are standing, before coming to a stop in front of you.

You tug open the door and get in on the passenger side.

"Why the long face? Find nothing?"

"Shut up."

-

A change of plans is the only way.

Your second plan is to court him which isn't really a problem given the man is as pretty as a doll and toying with him would be absolute fun. With the decision set, you begin phase two of your operation, stalking him.

Well, you were stalking him before too but now, you start to follow every single footsteps of him, quite literally.

You follow him everywhere, discreetly, of course, getting to know his schedule as precisely as possible before striking.

His routine is rather bland, he wakes up, goes to work, then goes to the gym and then comes back home. It is something you find odd, once again. No matter from which angle you consider, the equation does not add up. Still, you try to make the best of whatever little ammunition you have at hand and pretend to bump into him randomly.

Like, one sunny afternoon you pretend to wait for someone in the parking lot of his university right when he is to leave for the day. Surprisingly, he's the first one to approach you, as he gently grabs your attention. "Hey. We uh, met the other day."

"Oh, hello, Professor Lee. Glad you remembered. One of your biggest fans."

"Have you enrolled here?"

"Ah, I wish. I'm here to...meet a friend's daughter."

"I see. What's her department?"

You blink, not expecting that question but recover quickly. "You ask too many questions professor. Let me ask you one instead. Can I have your number?"

You see the tips of his ears go red.

So adorable.

He blinks, taken aback as he searches for the right words. "Well, uh, why?"

"Why? You're hot and intelligent. I want to go out with you."

"Well, I don't think it's a good idea."

"Why?"

"Just because." He replies, almost unsure, looking at you as if you are a bizarre creature.

You take a step towards him, an amused smile on your face from his reaction. Leaning close to him, you slowly fix the lapels of his jacket. Perplexed, he looks at the motion of your hands before moving his gaze to your face.

"Please, professor? One date is all I ask." You give him puppy eyes.

There is a sharp inhale as his pupils widen just a little bit while you gaze into his eyes, unblinking. The proximity is intense, you can smell his perfume, feel his breath on your skin and from the way he keeps looking at you, there is an urge to kiss him building within you.

Just when you are sure you can sneak in a kiss, he breaks the moment by taking a step back, out of your reach. Clearing his throat, he says. "I can't. I have a girlfriend."

Liar.

Not waiting for your reply, he opens the door to his car and gets in. As his engine fires up with a hum, you walk near the vehicle and lean in to look at him through the half open window. "Don't lie professor. You don't have a girlfriend."

He looks at you silently for a moment, his hands resting on the steering wheel. "This is why I won't go out with you."

You are confused.

"You seem to know too much about me and I don't like that."

With that, he pulls out of the parking lot, leaving behind a trail of smoke and your baffled self.

It's fine.

You know you are on the right track. He is definitely attracted to you so it is not over yet. In fact, it is only the beginning.

This is going to be so much fun.

-

For the next week, you make it your mission to pop up in front of Seokmin while he is out and about. You first pretend to run into him at his favourite coffee shop, acting delighted when he notices you. He seems wary upon seeing you and since it was only the first day of your mission, you let him off easy, saying that this is fate telling that you two are meant to be.

The next time you pretend to run into him again at the car park of the university, once again announcing that you are waiting for your friend's daughter. He keeps the conversation short, simply by nodding and getting into his car rather hurriedly. You, however, don't forget to throw him a compliment, looking as innocent and genuine as possible; like an innocent young girl who has been rejected by her desired man and now longs for him from afar.

That seems to work a bit.

The lesser you speak and the more innocent your attitude becomes, the longer your encounters last. Seokmin would start initiating the conversation and then ask formal questions as if to keep the conversation going or maybe, to test you and see what your true intentions are.

Either way, you don't fall for that.

Instead, you act detached, like a damsel who failed to capture the eye of the man she loves.

Finally, one morning, when you are walking out of the coffee shop, he stops you on your way by extending his hand to touch your elbow softly. You have to hide your smile before turning around.

"You know, I never got to see the girl." He says.

"Which girl?"

"Your friend's daughter. The one you come to the university for."

Ah.

"Oh, you didn't?" You blink innocently. He looks at you for a beat, before giving you a knowing smile. "You know, I think we both know that that's a lie."

You avert your gaze, acting like you did not hear him.

"As much as you seem to be enjoying this, I need you to stop following me around." He says, voice soft but firm and you know it's a command.

It's a shame you don't take commands well.

Tilting your neck to a side, you pop a muscle before giving out a loud exhale, composing yourself. "Have a nice day, Mr Professor."

You walk away.

-

You were getting tired of playing around. The man may be attracted to you but you are coming to a realization that it will not be enough for him to give him. He is cautious and given who he really is, he will never let a woman like you get close to him, no matter how much he may like you.

"I told you, we should have just kidnapped him. His brother would show up immediately." Changkyun complains out loud. The two of you have been sitting in your study for the past hour, trying to come up with a plan.

"You know I don't work like that. It's too easy. And too risky."

You have a bad habit. You always end up getting emotionally involved in every case you encounter. This one should not be an exception. In fact, this is the best place to get emotional because his brother hurt you by hurting your family. It is only fair you do the same to him now. And along the way, you get to tease a pretty man like Professor Lee. It is a win-win situation for you, almost.

In your world, betrayal is the sweetest revenge. If you can betray Professor Lee after earning his trust, that will be the sweetest revenge.

"I don't give up so easily, you know," you whisper, planning your next move.

-

"No teacher needs that much muscles, professor!" Your voice echoes through the empty gym at night.

Dokyeom whips his head around, dropping the dumbbell that was in his hand, eyes wide at your sudden voice. "You! How did you get in here!" You don't appreciate his accusatory tone.

"I come to this gym as well." You shrug, strolling towards him with your hands behind your back before plopping down next to him on a bench. He gives you an exasperated look. "Really?"

"Mhmm." You smile.

"Liar. What do you want? I told you to stay away from me."

You shrug. " Mhmm, can't do that professor. I miss you."

His lips thin, a sign that he is clearly not amused by your antics but it's a shame. You find all of this way too amusing.

You find him amusing.

"I know you are after something else. I am not stupid, ___." He turns to face you properly, his eyes carefully watching you.

A soft smirk plays on your lips. Of course, he is not stupid. Heir to the Lee family, he is the farthest thing from stupid.

"Did you have someone look into me, professor?" You ask nonchalantly.

"Look into you? What is that supposed to mean?" He asks, leaning closer to you.

You're treading in dangerous territory. You cannot give yourself in so quickly.

"I mean a smart, famous man like you has a lovesick stalker. I'm sure you had a detective or someone take a look into me, no?"

More like an intelligence member of the mafia. Maybe even his dear brother.

"So you are admitting that you are a stalker?"

"Oh, not just any, though. A lovesick stalker." You blink innocently at him.

He remains silent making you wonder if he is buying your words.

"Since you are asking me what I want, I assume you asked around and couldn't find anything, then?" You tilt your head, tone playful as you continue the conversation. You are not going to leave today until you are successful.

After a moment, he admits. "Yes. You run on the wrong side of the tracks, that is all I could find."

You chuckle. "There is nothing else to find, professor. I'm just a bad girl infatuated with you and your words and your passion for art."

"You? I am not buying that."

"Me? What is that supposed to mean?" You feel a little offended. "Can a girl not be a gangster and love theatre? Not every one of us gets to chase our dreams, you know."

You see his eyes soften as he remains silent, pondering your words. You watch him, carefully leaning closer to him before dragging a manicured finger over his bicep flirtily.

"What do you want?" His voice comes out breathy this time, those deep pools of chocolate in his eyes boring into you and oh god, do you love your name on his lips.

It would be even better to hear him say that in bed.

"A date with you, professor." You whisper, inching your face closer to him, your lips a mere few inches away from his and you don't miss the way his gaze drops to them before coming back up to your eyes.

"And if I say no?" He swallows. You pout, snaking a hand over his chest, feeling the strong muscles beneath your palm, pleased that he lets you touch him. "Why would you say no, professor? I am really good in bed, you know."

He watches you quietly once again and you hate how you cannot tell what is going on inside his head. Is he falling for your words or is he simply piecing things together and trying to uncover you? There is a slight flush on his cheeks but you don't know if it's because of you or his workout.

His hand comes to grab your wrist, breaking your train of thought as he takes your hand off his chest and places it on your lap.

"Tell me something you have never told anyone before."

"What?" You are perplexed.

"Tell me something, anything, a secret, a wish, that you have never told anyone before. Then, I will go on a date with you." He replies.

Wait, what?

You blink, absolutely baffled at his words as he sits in silence, looking at you expectantly. His gaze is sombre and sincere, like he really wants to know you and for the first time in forever, your heart skips a beat, making you feel out of place and vulnerable. Quickly, you break eye contact with him and stare at your boots as you think of a reply.

"Don't think of making up a lie. I can tell, you know." He adds.

A soft sigh escapes your lips as you internally roll your eyes at him. "I...I have this urge to leave everything behind and just go to an island. Or a place near the sea and spend the rest of my life there, where nobody knows me, where my past doesn't haunt me."

A long silence follows after your words and you cannot make yourself look at him, afraid of what you will find in his eyes, afraid of how they would make you feel and at the same time hating that these thoughts are bothering you.

"I am free this weekend." He murmurs standing up. You look up, surprised, excited. He puts on his hoodie, acting like he did not just agree to a date with you. As he starts walking out of the gym, completely ignoring your presence, you yell. "I'll text you!"

He turns around to look at you as if to ask how you have his number but simply gives you an exasperated look which you reply with a cheeky smile.

"I'm only free after noon." He declares, continuing on his path.

"No problem, professor." You grin.

-

You agree on an evening library date which is not really an ideal date for you but because of the facade you are holding up, you agree. The library is situated near his campus, an old architectural piece, with dimmed yellow lights and gold details and large windows, radiating a little bit of a gothic energy. He chose the library because of your (fake)interest in theatre, saying that the library would be the best place to discuss these things and you agreed because other than that, it is also not crowded and you can have his full attention.

Dokyeom hand picks a few books on the topic with pure enthusiasm as you follow him around, nodding to whatever he is saying. For the most part, you observe him, watching him with rapt attention, the details of his face, the change of his expressions as he talks, the movement of his hands—

And you have to admit, he has very pretty hands; long and bony, perfect to suck on.

Shaking your head at the ridiculous thought, you follow him to a private study room.

He pulls a chair and helps you sit down, making you smile at his manners. Once he is sat, he turns to you and asks. "Okay, then. What would you like to talk about today? Let's start with plays. What is your favourite play?"

"I don't know, what is yours?" You ask, blinking innocently at him as you rest your chin on your palm. He frowns. "What do you mean you don't know?"

"My favourite play is whatever your favourite play is." You reply sweetly, making him throw an exasperated look at you.

"Is this how you are going to be?"

"Deeply infatuated with you? Yes, professor."

Shaking his head, he opens a book, murmuring something under his breath but you see the soft hint of a smile playing on his lips, making you smile as well.

This should be easy.

Your date goes smoothly, with him discussing his favourite plays, playwrights and whatnot and you nodding along and watching him, throwing in some pointless questions here and there to appear interested. All the while in the back of your mind, you keep planning your next move. Seokmin isn't a stupid man and you know deep down, he sees through your pretence but seeing how he is still entertaining you means that you have captured his interest. And you have to use this to your benefit.

Fate seems to be on your side as on the way back home, Dokyeom suddenly asks if you are free for dinner.

You have to work very hard to mask the huge grin of satisfaction on your face when you say yes. Your response pleases him, visible from his reaction as he excitedly turns the car around and selects a restaurant.

Dokyeom goes all out for dinner, as you are guided to a private dining room upon entering the restaurant. You have to say that his effort impresses you. And of course, it solidifies your belief that he is falling for you. Smiling, you strut behind him.

He pulls out your chair for you, helping you sit down before ordering some appetizers and wine for you to get started.

"I'm a bit surprised you agreed to come." He speaks after a small pause.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing. I- I just had a thought that you were not serious about me. It almost felt like you lost a bet. I had the impression that you were just playing with me and wasting my time the last few weeks but I'm surprised you pulled through."

You only give him a smile in reply.

"You know, I believe you are one of two things. A weirdo who wants to bed a professor just for fun or, someone with a hidden intention, playing the long game."

"Aren't you smart, professor?" You grin condescendingly, resting your cheek on your palm.

"I know you are bad news, yet..." He pauses for a beat, sighing at himself. "Yet for the past week, I could not stop thinking about you. I'm in deep trouble, no?"

"You are," You smile. "In the sweetest trouble, I promise you."

He scoffs, a faint smile appearing on his lips. "Let's order the main course, shall we?"

The dinner begins with casual small talk as he tells you about his work and you listen, asking casual questions here and there. When you are taking your second serving of the alfredo pasta, he asks. "Tell me about yourself. Why do you do what you do?"

"Come again?" Your movements halt as you look at him.

"Your... profession." He seems to not find his words. "Killing people, threatening them, weapon business, fraud... whatever you do."

"Hm, I do a little bit of all of that but," you set your utensils down, looking up. "Interesting question, professor."

"Is it like a family business?"

Your eyes fly to his, looking for a sign in them of whether he knows your background or not. For a moment you tense up and hold your breath but his face remains the same, looking at you curiously as he sips his wine.

"No, not really." You reply before finishing your glass of wine. "Parents died early. They knew a few people who were in this business and I got involved."

"What business is it exactly?"

"Aren't you curious, professor?"

He shrugs, looking at you in silence, waiting for you to continue. You sigh, dropping your cutlery down and leaning back into the chair.

"My father was in the weapons business. After he passed away things were messy for a bit and I realized dealing with weapons was not my strong forte. Now I'm in the loaning business and I also do contract killing."

Dokyeom's eyes widen significantly and you can't help but laugh at his reaction. He is acting like he hasn't heard something like this before, living in the world that he lives in.

He looks around before lowering his voice and asking. "So you are like a thug that lends people money with high interest?"

"Yep."

"And you beat them up if they fail to return the money on time?''

"Precisely," you grin.

"And what was that about contract killing? What are you? A hitman?"

"You can say that. But I have clients of various ranges. I kill for politicians, for local gangs and even for civilians."

"For civilians?" He hisses.

"Yes, professor." You take a sip of your wine, swirling the bitter liquid around in your mouth. "Three months ago, the news of a young girl getting raped by a senator's son broke out. I'm sure you have heard of that. The girl was only seventeen and the guy came to her birthday party without any invitation, caused a ruckus and raped her that night because she refused to drink with him. The mother of that girl ran around tirelessly for help while she recovered at the hospital. Everyone she went to, told her to drop the charges for her own good. For one, it would take months, even years to complete the investigation and during that time they'd only get harassed, and two, they could never win the case."

"One day, the mother came to see me. I don't know how she found me and I didn't ask. She offered me her entire life savings and begged me for justice for her daughter. I didn't accept her money but I promised her I would avenge her daughter."

"Then...the death of that senator's son, you were behind it?" Seokmin whispers.

"Yes. I castrated him and then slit that bastard's throat."

"And the incident of the senator that came on the news, were you behind that as well?"

"Yes. He was equally at fault. He let his son go astray and then covered up his crimes. He did not deserve to speak another word so I cut his tongue. Fun, no?'

He doesn't reply to you but falls into a deep state of thought as you continue your dinner.

"Did I scare you, professor?" You ask, seeing him so silent.

He blinks a few times, coming out of his reverie. "No."

"Hm, doesn't sound like that."

Once more, you are met with silence as he watches you from the opposite side of the table, the look in his eyes serious, almost as if he is scrutinizing you. You start to grow uncomfortable under his stare, slightly worried that he might piece two and two together and see through you.

Surprising you, he says, "Looks like I misjudged you, ___. I shouldn't have. I apologize."

"What?"

"Not all actions can be boxed into black and white. What you did may be illegal but it was necessary and right. It won't undo everything that the girl went through, but it still makes the whole thing a bit fair."

For probably the first time in your life, you find yourself speechless. You open your mouth to reply but you realize that you are incapable of forming a reply to what he said. So, you just sit in silence, mirroring him.

"I don't know your past and I don't know what your struggles are but you are a good person, ___.''

Your throat has dried up by now as a weird sensation starts settling in your heart. It is uncomfortable and your appetite is ruined.

The man can probably sense your discomfort because he lets out a soft chuckle and leans back into his seat. "I just thought you should know that. I was not trying to woo you or anything."

You swallow a lump in your throat and force a smile. "Let's order dessert, shall we?''

Soon after that, you finish dinner and Dokyeom offers to give you a ride home and you accept it but only after a little internal debate.

Your own attitude baffles you. Why are you hesitating to let him drop you home? Is it because you have started feeling weird things under his company and now you want to avoid them?

No, that's outrageous. You are just tired from a long day of playing pretend.

The drive to your house is silent as you actively avoid having any conversation with him by facing the window and closing your eyes, your arms crossed as you pretend to go to sleep.

A good amount of driving later, you reach your house and tap in the code number for the main gate to open.

"She's a beauty, isn't she?'' You ask upon noticing his reaction; wide eye and mouth slightly open as he drives into your compound, coming to a stop in front of the steps that lead to your main entrance.

The house resembles a haunted mansion in many ways. It is at least a hundred years old, huge but empty, creepers growing around the black tiles, surrounded by dead trees and an abandoned garden. This is where you used to live with your family a long time ago and after your father's death, you left, letting that house collect dust. It is only recently that you started living here after you formed your plan to take the Lee family down.

"She is." He agrees with a nod before undoing his seatbelt. Before you can do that and open your door, he rounds the car and holds the door open for you.

The chilly night air hits your skin as you step out of the car. Dokyeom's gaze travels past you, marvelling at your home.

"Would you like to come in?" You surprise yourself by asking. He immediately nods with a sheepish grin. "I would love to see the interior."

"Well, it is a mess and full of dust but come along," You lead the way as he follows you closely. Holding the door open, you let him step in.

The door opens to a large space in front of a staircase leading upstairs. This area used to be for sitting, and now it is barren of anything. There is a large floor to ceiling window by the staircase, pouring the moonlight inside the space which is dimly lit by an antique chandelier.

"I see you didn't renovate." Dokyeon comments as he walks around, eyes scanning the space in wonder.

"Moved in recently."

"Hm, I like the style. If you end up renovating, I'd say don't change it too much." He advises. Humming, you start climbing the stairs. "My bedroom and the dining are upstairs. Wanna take a look?''

"Sure," he enthusiastically trails behind you as you come upstairs and show him the dining first and then the second bedroom before leading him to your bedroom.

"And here is my room," you hold open the door for him as he walks past you, the same look of wonder constant on his face.

"Wow," he walks straight to the open balcony, the night breeze flowing in strong, making the curtains dance. You slowly follow him, "I know right."

"I almost want to live here. Do you want to trade places with me?'' There's a boyish charm in his eyes and a genuine hint of glee in his voice as he looks at you with a smile.

"No thanks." You cannot help a small smile yourself.

A silence settles, a comfortable one in fact as you watch the view by his side in the cool night air.

"I had a good time today," he confesses, voice soft. You try hard not to acknowledge the funny feeling that spreads inside you upon hearing his words. Softly, you say. "Me too."

Your gaze moves to him and you find him looking at you, the look in his eyes is something you are unfamiliar with. Something that threatens to make your heart skip a beat, and make you forget what you are set out to do.

While you are lost in your thoughts, Dokyeom seems to have moved closer to you. His gaze has deepened and his face is suddenly mere inches away from you, taking you by surprise.

"Can I kiss you?" He whispers.

Fuck it. Part of your mission is to get him to bed, no? You will have to do it sooner or later.

You press your lips to his and fireworks go inside your head. It feels right, his lips moving against yours as you grab his jacket to pull him closer. By the time you two separate, you are breathless, your mind hazy. Dokyeom keeps looking at you like you are the most magnificent thing on this planet, his hand softly caressing your cheeks as your fingertips dance on his neck.

"Should I stay the night?"

There is a cheer of satisfaction within you. You let out a soft hum of acknowledgement which immediately brings his hands to your shoulders.

His lips are the epitome of temptation, your hooded gaze trained on it, stuck in a trance of pure desire. His fingers brush over your back in tantalising touches as he drops your coat from your shoulders, his eyes never straying from yours. Your hands move in a rhythm as you unbutton his blazer and reach for the hem of his turtleneck, helping him to get rid of it with a tug while simultaneously moving back inside your room and towards your bed, discarding the clothes messily on the floor.

His body is like an ancient Greek sculpture, lean and toned and you don't hide the hunger in your gaze. In silence, you push him towards the bed as he drops down to the mattress while you peel off your top along with your bra and then reach for the pants. Once you are left only in your panties, you strut towards him, a small smile on your lips because of the way he keeps looking at you, full of desire and burning passion.

Your hands move seductively as you take off his pants along with his boxers, making sure your nails scrape his thigh. With the fabrics gone, you see his cock for the first time, and my god is he blessed.

"What do you think? Will it please you?" He asks, making you smirk.

"Lie back professor," you order, standing up as he moves back into the bed, half lying against the headboard. You climb on the bed on all fours, positioning yourself on top of him. Leaning down, your lips tease him as your noses brush together softly. You whisper. "Let me give you a time you will never forget."

Something flashes in his eyes for a brief moment which you don't get to observe because his lips crash into yours, ensuing a fierce kiss. You moan into the kiss as his hands come to cup your neck and jaw, his lips pressed against yours relentlessly.

When you realise he is about to press you down into the bed, you break the kiss and inhale deeply. "Mhmm, no, professor. Let me take care of you first." You throw a wink at him and move down, your lips softly dragging against his skin, down his abdomen before reaching his half hard cock.

You take him in your hands, rubbing the base of his dick at a slow pace and watch his face raptly for reactions. As he grows hard against your hand, you lean down and take him into your mouth with one big swallow that makes Dokyem grunt out loud.

"Fuck!"

You smile as you continue your ministrations, moving your mouth up and down against his length while his body grows tense beneath you. Your tongue laps around his entire length, tasting him, teasing him as his breaths become shorter and shorter.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come soon."

His words work as a motivation for you as you increase your pace, swiping your tongue over his leaking tip before he finally explodes inside your mouth with a throaty groan.

You swallow every drop of him, a few trailing down the corner of your lips and you make a show of licking it with unwavering eye contact. Dokyeom lies flat on his back, panting harshly, hooded eyes watching you in an intense stare.

"Good, professor?" You grin, licking your index finger.

Exhaling loudly, he tugs you by your arm. "Come here!" Pinning you underneath his body, he kisses you, his tongue prodding into your mouth, tasting himself. You don't hold yourself back either, kissing him with equal passion until you forget where you end and he begins.

His lips meet your neck, kissing and sucking softly before trailing down to play with your sensitive nipples. As your whines grow in pitch and you grow restless, trying to break free from his grip and take over, he sits over your thighs, spreading his legs on both sides and resting on his knees.

"Do you have a condom?" He asks.

"Multiple," you reply, reaching for the bedside drawer.

As he puts the rubber on, you take the moment to appreciate his figure, his beautiful face, his bed-messy hair, his toned chest and abdomen and of course, his monster of a cock.

"You are one fine man, professor." You find yourself saying. You hate how you genuinely mean it.

"You are not too bad yourself." He flashes a grin before aligning himself with your pussy. As you take a deep inhale, he pushes in, making your body rise as you grip the sheets tightly in reply to the intrusion.

"Fuck, you're so tight."

Your response is to squeeze him tighter as you wrap your legs around his ass, pushing his body closer to yours. Delirious with pleasure, you start chasing his hips right away in a desperate rhythm of your own.

"Harder," you tempt, slinging your arms around his neck to pull him close. His breath fans your face, the slight perspiration on his temples clearly visible in this distance. In the yellowish hue of the room, his skin glows, giving him the appearance of a god, his messy hair tying everything together.

Dokyeom takes you up for the challenge as he increases his pace, making your head fall back as you let out a deep moan from the pits of your belly. He hits the perfect spot every time, driving you wild, bringing you deliciously close to the edge.

"Fuck, I need to come," you pant, hands reaching between your legs to touch your clit. Dokyeom, however, stops you by grabbing your both wrists and pinning them on top of your head, a cocky smirk on your face as he leans into your ear and whispers. "Say please first."

"Never," you immediately reply.

"Then you don't get to come."

"You asshole!" You hiss, trying to writhe free from his grasp but every time you move, his dick goes deeper inside you, amplifying the pleasure that makes you shudder.

"Come on sweetheart. You know you want to come."

"Ugh, no," you grunt, squeezing your eyes shut in a futile attempt to tone done your need for release."

"It's just one tiny word," the devil keeps whispering in your ear, continuing his ruthless thrusts as you teeter on the verge of begging.

"Fuck! Okay, okay!" You yell. "Please!"

"Hm, that didn't sound nice." The bastard complains, making you furious.

"I swear to god—" He interrupts you with a fierce kiss, pushing his tongue so deep inside your mouth that you forget to breathe. Letting go of your hands, his fingers move down, trailing along your skin before reaching between your legs and flicking your clit. That action is enough as you come, fireworks going off inside your body as you twist to a side, your toes curling in pleasure. Dokyeom's body shudders on top of yours as he comes, continuing to kiss your mouth, your chin and your jaw.

Soon, a silence settles in the air as his body rests on top of yours. You don't find it in you to push him off so you let him be, comfortable in his warmth and embrace as you close your eyes, soon to be overtaken by sleep.

-

Days bleed into weeks that turn into a month as you start dating Seokmin. He grows fonder of you each passing day, the look in his eyes and his actions mirroring what he holds for you in his heart. He starts accepting your obsessive tendencies along with your profession, which pleases you immensely. You have your enemy where you want and things seem to be going your way.

Except one thing.

After you started dating Dokyeom, you have stayed over at his place only a few times. Of course, you made use of those times, snooping through his house in hopes of finding something that would lead you to his brother or at the very least, tell you of his ties to the mafia family of District 1. You never found a single thing. When you asked him about his family, he replied that he is an only child whose parents passed away because of a car crash.

A lie, of course.

Your plan is in motion but at the same time, you feel stuck. You have Dokyeom in the palm of your hand, you just need to get to his brother for everything to come together. You had dramatic plans for a reunion but at this stage, that looks quite impossible.

Maybe you should have just kidnapped him.

-

One weekend he invites you to his house for dinner as a celebration of him securing a contract with one of the biggest publishers in the country for his next book.

You put on your nicest dress and your fanciest heels for the occasion, your lips painted red as you strut to his front door with a bouquet of flowers.

Dokyeom opens the door looking a little more gorgeous than other days; his black hair brushed back sleekly, and wearing a cream coloured Ralph Lauren sweater with black pants. Tying the look together is his steel framed glasses which he looks fantastic with and which you adore seeing him wearing.

Whenever he wears those glasses you two end up having the most mind blowing sex.

Dokyeom remains rooted in his spot as he watches you, his eyes moving over your full frame with a look of appreciation and desire. You flash a grin, "Good evening, professor."

He blinks before smiling, "Good evening, ___. You look absolutely stunning."

"Thought I should dress up to celebrate you." You shrug. "May I come in?" You smile teasingly and he lets you in with a flustered laugh.

"Dinner is cooking in the oven. I will set the table up," he supplies as he helps you to take off your coat once you are inside. "Would you like some wine?''

"Sure," You follow him to the kitchen which has a soft aroma of the chicken roast, making your stomach rumble slightly. One of the many delights of dating Dokyeom has been his exceptional culinary skills. You watch as he pours wine into two glasses before offering you one, "The chicken will be done in ten minutes. Make yourself at home."

"Thanks," you receive the glass from him and stroll around the house, looking at his decoration, in the back of your mind thinking if any one of these plain items hides the key to his other identity. A phone call echos in the kitchen and you realize Dokyeom is getting a call. He accepts it with an apology directed at you before going to the porch to speak.

In the meantime, you sneak into his study. It is not even sneaking in, to be honest, because he has given you full access to every inch of his house and in fact, encouraged you to visit his study and take a look at his little library. You found it odd at first because his transparency shows that he has nothing to hide and as days pass by and you come up with no leads, a sinking feeling has started appearing in your belly. Not to mention that the bug you put underneath his desk has picked up nothing of importance, no conversation or phone call about District 1 or his mafia family.

Maybe you have made a huge mistake. Maybe he is some random innocent guy who just looks like the youngest son of Lee family and has fallen to your prey.

Still, you step inside his study with the hope of finding something new. Like every other time, your fingers comb through the shelves of his library before moving towards his desk, shuffling through the papers carefully to not disturb the arrangement. You also peek beneath the desk to make sure the recorder is still there and active before going through his drawers. It has become a routine check at this point, your fingers moving through his stuff in experienced movements as you hold your breath in anticipation of finding a lead.

It goes futile, of course.

With a defeated sigh you stand up to find Dokyeom standing at the entrance of his study with a completely foreign look on his face.

Shit.

A gasp of surprise and terror leaves your mouth as your eyes meet his and for several moments, a gut-wrenching feeling wreaks havoc within you. You hate how you feel, guilty like a criminal or even worse, a person breaking the trust they were given and getting caught red handed by the person who trusted them the most.

"What are you doing?'' His tone is flat and cold, something you are hearing for the first time. It takes a second for your brain to start functioning properly. "Just looking around, professor. You know I get snoopy sometimes." You tilt your head to the side, giving him a coy smile.

Dokyeom gives no reaction. He takes a few, slow steps towards you, his footsteps matching the beat of your heart as he comes to a stand in front of the table.

Then, his hand reaches below, searching for something beneath the table before coming back up with the bug in his hand.

Ah, fuck.

"What is this?" He asks.

"A bug? Who would do that to you, professor?" You ask innocently.

He keeps staring at you, the look of disappointment growing permanent on his face as you realize you are caught for good.

Fuck it, you had to reveal yourself one way or the other anyway.

With a loud exhale, you ask, "When did you find out?"

"Last week," he replies, tone clipped. "I was baffled when I found it. Nobody visited my place in the last few weeks except you. Stupidly, I told myself it cannot be you so someone must have broken in. I looked through the CCTV footage but I found nothing there was well." He blows out a long breath, shaking his head dejectedly, "I still prayed it wouldn't be you but the reality says otherwise, ___."

Hmm, it does.

"It was me," you announce, plopping down on his chair behind the desk while he watches you unamusedly. "And you are right. Someone did break in. That was me as well." You flash him an evil grin.

Whatever colour that was left on his face drains out as he keeps staring at you, unblinking, for a long period. You return his stare with one of your own, except you are curious to see his next reaction. There is also a feeling of dread somewhere within you but you decide to ignore it.

Dokyeom's palms come to rest on the table as he hangs his head low, remaining motionless. Finally, when he looks up, the look in his eyes has completely changed and his jaw is tight, giving you the first glimpse into the mafia heir that he really is.

You watch as he reaches for the scissors in the stationary holder sitting on his desk, and rounds the table before coming to stand right next to you, holding the tip of the scissors right against your neck as he leans down and hisses. "Should I slit your throat right here or should I hear you out?"

You must admit that you find this look on him very attractive.

You cannot help the grin, "Finally, you are acting like the youngest heir of District 1, professor. I like it."

His eyes widen slightly as the scissors move just a bit away from your skin. "What do you want?"

"To tell you that, I have to tell you a long story." Your smile drips with venom as you stand up and walk over to the sitting area. "Sit down. It's a long story." You say, motioning towards the sofa in front of you. He isn't enthusiastic but he follows your direction, sitting down in front of you, the scissors still in his hand.

You lean back into the cushions throwing one leg over the other as you look him in the eye.

"Once upon a time, six years ago actually, there was a man who used to deal weapons. His general clients were not high profile but one day he got orders from the mafia family of District 1. They had some issues with their regular supplier so they chose that man for a quick supply."

"The man had two daughters. One who was 18 at that time and another who was 16. Their mother passed away a couple of years ago and their father was always busy with either work or gambling so the sisters only had each other. The older sister took very good care of the younger one, making sure she was happy and protected all the time."

"Then one night, the mafia barged through the door, surrounding their house with armed men. The eldest and the youngest son of the Lee family also came. They dragged the father and the older daughter outside on the porch where they killed him with a clean shot in the head. Then they grabbed the older daughter and dragged her into their car, making her disappear forever."

"Meanwhile, the younger daughter watched all this from far away as the father's right hand man told her to remain hidden to save herself. After some digging around, it was found out that District 1 went to war with the Russians and they lost that war while also losing the head of the family, the father of the two brothers, Lee Jihoon and..." you pause before looking him dead in the eye and whispering, "Lee Seokmin."

Thick silence stretches in the air.

Dokyeom keeps looking at you, his fingers intertwined under his chin. "So, all this was a grand plan of yours to what, fool me? Betray me after making a joke out of me?" He asks. making you chuckle.

"You were only the beginning of my plan. I wanted to mess with you, of course, but I thought I would find out about your brother's whereabouts through dating you. I initially had a fun plan that I would show up uninvited in one of his business deals and ruin it, damage his reputation for good. However, that plan failed because I found no information about him or your family from you. You really hide that part of you well, no Professor?"

He remains silent.

"Now that my initial plan has failed, I think I will have to kidnap you, hm? Ask your brother for ransom. He would have no choice but to show up then."

Your words make Dokyeom scoff as he shakes his head, the corners of his lips turned up as if you have said the funniest thing ever. You don't like his reaction.

"You want to see my brother? I will arrange that."

"What?" You must have heard wrong. "What game are you playing now?"

"I'm not playing any game."

"Then why?" You narrow your eyes on him, your hand reaching to your back pocket to pull out the switchblade if necessary.

He looks at you for a long moment before letting out a breath. "I am impressed, that's all. I have to acknowledge your talent, no? Also, you deserve to know the truth." He looks you in the eye. "The real truth. Not some bullshit your father's right hand man made up."

"Don't you fucking tell me what is the truth and what is the lie, you murderer!" You seethe, clenching your fists.

You should just gut him right here.

Once again, he just smiles. "I will text you when he is available for the meeting. However, it will be one on one. If you bring someone else, he will not show up."

"I could still kidnap you."

"You are welcome to try but I guarantee you, that plan is going to fail. You are a smart woman. I'm giving you a good option. Just take it." He stands up.

"Well if you think that I alone am not a threat to your brother then you are mistaken. I can make his blood spill if I want to," You stand up and take a menacing step towards him. "If you find your dear brother dead after the meeting, don't blame me, hm?''

You don't wait for a reply as you turn on your heel and march out of the room. On your way out you find the dinner served on the table, the chicken cut nicely into pieces along with vegetables. Picking up a fork, you stab a few pieces of chicken, shove them into your mouth and then take a sip of the wine.

As always, his food tastes great.

With your coat slung over your shoulder, you pull open the door and yell behind you, "Thanks for the dinner, professor!"

You slam the door loudly behind you.

-

Lee Jihoon agrees to have a meeting with you one day later. Initially, you wanted Changkyun to drive you there but Dokyeom sent a text saying that he would pick you up because outside vehicles are not allowed entry into Jihoon's compound. Reluctantly, you agreed and after an absolute silent drive later, you reach the mansion of the mafia family of District 1.

The compound is stunning and heavily guarded, with checkposts and watch towers set at certain distances as well as multiple security screenings that you have to pass through. Once Dokyeom passes the final gate, the gorgeous mansion comes into view. Just upon entry, there is a large compound surrounding a giant water fountain in the middle of neatly trimmed rows of trees. Dokyeom stops the car at a small parking space near the front yard where the meeting will take place.

As the car comes to a stop you notice a small table and garden chairs set up underneath a large umbrella that is surrounded by multiple guards— the place of your meeting. With a deep breath, you step out of the car, along with Dokyeom who comes out of the driver's side door. Surprising you, he leans against the car with his arms crossed and starts looking around.

"You are not coming?''

"No."

You are perplexed but don't ask any further questions, busy with the task ahead of you. Tilting your head side to side, you pop your neck before marching towards the garden. Spotting you, one of the guards speaks into his comm. Throwing a mock smile at him, you drag a chair out and sit down, waiting for him to arrive. Out of curiosity, you turn your head behind to see Dokyeom in the same spot, staring off into the distance.

Weird.

A maid comes to serve two cups of tea before hurrying away and soon after, the man arrives.

Dressed in full black, Lee Jihoon steps out of the mansion and walks towards you, closely followed by two bodyguards, his body language is relaxed as he pulls out the chair in front of you and sits down. Taking off his shades, he looks at you, his eye contact calm yet unwavering along with something very powerful and dark brimming underneath as you come face to face with the man behind all your misery.

"Good morning, ___. My brother informed me about our interesting past." He speaks, his tone light, his facial expression laced with amusement as if he is catching up with an old friend.

"Then you know why I am here." You cut to the chase, trying to keep your tone as even as possible. Just hearing his voice irks you to your core.

"Remind me again." He hums, wiping his shades with a piece of cloth.

This motherfucking bastard.

"You killed my father! You kidnapped my sister! What—" You inhale deeply. "What did you do to her!" You hiss, unable to keep your voice from raising as your hands form fists, violent rage bubbling within you. There is a knife hidden underneath your bra and you consider pulling it out and stabbing him.

You can be quick but it wouldn't cause enough damage.

Besides, you need to know if your sister is alive.

"I see you are furious and I understand that feeling." Jihoon begins, throwing one leg on top of another as he links his hands together, leaning back to sit comfortably.

You hate how nonchalant he is about all this.

"Since I'm in a good mood today and my younger brother has asked for a favour after a very long time, I'll answer your questions. Let's begin with your father's death, shall we? My family had a deal with your father. He was to provide us with weapons and artilleries for a year because our usual supplier got murdered earlier that year and we chose him as a temporary replacement. In November of that year, a war broke out between us and the Russians. We went to war with those weapons. Guess what happened?"

You remain silent, staring at him in rage.

"The weapons stopped working. The guns would either jam or misfire. Hundreds of my men died and we lost that war. Your father sold us weapons that were crap. They were a batch of second grade weapons that he had lying around." Jihoon pauses for a second before resting his arms on the table and leaning closer to you. "You know why he did that?''

"Because he had gambled away the initial deposit we gave him. That led to an argument with his manufacturer who said the deal would be on hold. He could neither get the weapons nor cancel the deal with us so like a fucking coward, he sold us those shitty weapons."

"You are lying." You hiss.

"I was hoping you would say that. You see, I don't care whether you believe me or not, ___. You asked for the truth and here it is."

Bullshit.

Lee Jihoon is the master of manipulation, there is no way he is being honest right now.

"Then where is my sister? What did you do with her?"

His eyes darken at your words.

"She is alive. That is all you need to know." His tone is clipped.

You are immediately on your feet, the chair scraping backwards by your sudden motion. "Where is she, you fucking son of a bitch!" You bang your fists on the table, ready to jump on him. His bodyguard starts to come to you but Jihoon raises his hand as a signal for him to stand back.

"Sit down, ___." He remains unbothered. "Wherever she is, she is safe and well."

"Like I believe a word that comes out of your mouth! If she is really alive why won't you tell me!" You scream.

"Because your sister told me not to."

The ground slips away from your feet as your heart starts galloping. "What— what you talking about, you fucking liar!"

Jihoon gets up and walks towards you, fixes the chair back in its place and forces you to sit down by grabbing your shoulders.

"Look, ___. I am doing you the favour of explaining everything which I never do for anyone else. You can either act civil and stop calling me names or I have you escorted out right now." He threatens in your ear, his body leaning against the garden table. Your hands form tight fists in your lap as it takes everything within you to hold yourself back from punching him.

He says, "A word of advice for you, don't believe everything you see. Your sister has her demons that she had been hiding for a long time. She had them when we took her and she still has them. When she overcomes all of them, she will come find you."

You are stunned to silence.

"I- I don't believe you. You are making all this up." Your brain is scrambling, trying to fit the pieces together that you seem to have missed.

"Alright then. I'll contact your sister and tell her to write you a letter, maybe even attach some pictures. How about that?"

You remain silent.

Jihoon sighs and sits back down on the chair, before reaching for his phone inside his jacket. Swiping through the device, he finds what he is looking for before turning the screen towards you.

A gasp escapes you as your hands come to cover your mouth. It is a picture of your sister. You recognize her immediately despite the change in her features throughout the years. She sits by a window, a very subtle smile on her lips as she looks at the camera.

You could look at that picture forever but Jihoon takes the phone away, putting it inside his pocket as you blink away the tears from your eyes.

"You are all murderers. You ruined our lives." You whisper, your head hanging low as you stare at the green grass below your feet suddenly overcome with a feeling of helplessness.

Has she really been alive all this time? Has she been well?

"We never said we weren't. Our world abides by some rules and your father was well aware of those rules. His greed got the best of him and in a perfect world, his family wouldn't have suffered for his crime but in our world, that is the rule."

Tears brim in your eyes as you are overwhelmed with distraught.

"Thousands of people in district one had to die for your father's greed. It is only fair that he died. We didn't even make it painful and that is something our men were not blessed with." His tone becomes dark by the end.

"If you still don't believe me, I will mail you some of the investigation reports on that case. But this is as far as I'll entertain you, ___ and this is the last time I wish to see you in my premises unless I call you." Jihoon stands up, putting his hands in his pockets as you keep glaring holes into the ground.

"One final piece of advice, if you aren't serious about my brother, leave him." His words make you look up at him. "Me and Seokmin don't talk to each other anymore but for you, he contacted me after years, leaving behind his pride. He seems to have serious feelings about you. If you don't feel that way about him, leave. You got what you wanted."

Did you? Did you really get what you wanted?

"Goodbye." He puts on his shades and strides out of the garden, his bodyguards trailing after him as you are left alone with your thoughts and the tea which has now gone cold.

You get back into Dokyeom's car in silence. The man does not ask any questions or acknowledge you, mutely starting the car almost as if you are not even here.

You sit still, stuck in a trance as Jihoon's words replay in your mind over and over again. Now, you truly do not know what is the truth and what is the lie as you spiral into a dark pit of hopelessness. Could it truly be that Changkyun and his father lied to you? But why would they do that? Why would Jihoon lie to you either? He has no reason to. He is not afraid of anyone and he has no benefit from lying to you.

Your mind starts to numb from the continuous onslaught of thoughts. When you finally take a break from them and focus on your surroundings, you realize the car has come to a stop. It is parked on a small cliff that overlooks a mountain range far away. Seokmin looks at you expectantly, almost as if he is waiting for you to step out of the car. Without much thought, you do that and he follows you as you both silently tread towards a small bridge nearby. Resting against it, you take in the view for a few minutes, the man next to you doing the same.

"I heard you don't speak to your brother anymore." You decide to speak. It caught you off guard when Jihoon first mentioned it but you have been too preoccupied with other worries to address it. It is making sense to you now as to why you could not find anything at his house.

After a moment, his soft voice floats through the silence. "I used to be really close with my brother. I looked up to him ever since I was a child. In a world as grim as ours, he was a source of hope and a shelter for me." He breathes, his eyes focused ahead, clouded with memories. "It was a given that he was going to be the next don since he was the oldest but he always told me that I'd be a better leader, that I should be prepared to take over if anything were to happen to him. Sometimes, it felt as if he trusted me more than he trusted himself and I didn't want to let him down."

Seokmin comes to a pause as his gaze shifts from staring straight ahead to coming lower and lower, finally stopping at his shoes. With his head hanging low and a dejected posture, he whispers. "Everything changed after that war. Our father died along with so many of our men. The bloodshed was too much for me. I tried to suck it in by telling myself that I will overcome this. I will get used to it but the thing was, I didn't want to. I didn't want to get used to the violence, to the bloodshed, to that life and finally, after killing your father and taking away your sister, I gave up."

There is a heavy pause in the air. Your breath is trapped in your lungs as you watch him, waiting eagerly for his next words, urging him to continue while failing to find your voice.

"That night, I told hyung I was going to leave. I was going to denounce everything. My title, my inheritance, everything. My final gesture of loyalty and love for him was to aid him in killing the man that caused all the mess but my brother...He was...livid. He punched me, yelled at me and finally begged me not to leave. When I still said no he looked at me for a long moment." His breath shudders as he pauses shortly.

"I remember it so vividly. His face went completely blank as he ordered his men to escort me out, not even saying goodbye or looking back. That night I left and I never saw him again until...today. To the members of District 1, it was like the Lee family expanding their territory by having me step into the world of art under a new name. You also thought the same but now, you know the truth."

His eyes finally move as he shifts his position, leaning against the edge of the rail to look at you.

"Our world isn't fair, ___ and you cannot judge our actions based on the laws of the normal world. I do not like bloodshed or violence but I've realised that sometimes it is necessary to keep the balance. Killing your father was such a moment and—" he pauses, his brows furrowing as he looks at you desperately, almost like he's in pain as he searches for the right words.

"I do not regret it. I regret a lot of things but do not regret his death. I'm sorry that you lost your father and I'm sorry that you had a tough life. More than anything else, I'm sorry that you harboured all these negative feelings inside you only to realise that the truth was something else entirely. I'm sorry it had to be like this, ___."

You swallow, blinking to hold back tears. His eyes shine, mirroring yours as you both stare at each other in silence. You want to scream, yell at the top of your lungs that he is lying but you know that if you open your mouth, only sobs will come out. So you opt for watching Seokmin in silence as a gust of cool breeze flows by, messing your hair while you pray that it takes away your despair along with it.

"I'm going to leave you alone now. I'm sure you need some time to process everything. I just wanted to say my part." He whispers, slowly taking steps away. He pauses for a beat on his way to see if you say anything but you keep staring at the sky as if hypnotised. As his footsteps get farther away and the car's engine roars to life, your tears fall, cascading down your cheeks in endless streams.

-

Sleep doesn't come easily to you that night. With the rise of the sun, you get some shut eye before waking up and lying in your bed for hours, sinking deep into the hollow in your chest that feels like it's devouring you whole. Beside you, your phone rings multiple times with Changkyun's calls but you ignore them, not prepared to face him, not prepared to confront your best friend that he has been lying to you. When the growls of your stomach finally grow too loud for you to tolerate, you get up to eat something.

Inside your large house, you float around like a ghost, the emptiness and coldness of the structure mirroring how you feel on the inside. Your brain is too broken to think yet thoughts overflow, numbing you.

As you eat some cereal you finally decide to check your phone and you see Changkyun's message.

I dropped by your house this morning. You didn't open and you are not picking up.

Come to the seaport when you see this. We need to talk.

Your first reaction is to put your phone face down, ignoring the text. But as time ticks by and you see the afternoon sun going lower and lower in the sky, you change your mind. You need to talk to him. You deserve to know the truth from his mouth. Besides, the sooner you get this over with the better.

Maybe it's finally time to retire to a city by the beach, you think to yourself as you drive to the seaport.

-

The wind is high and the sun is about to disappear beneath the horizon when you reach the port. Parking your car, you walk along the edge of the platform, letting the cold her blow into your face as you watch the ships nearby get loaded with containers. As you stop to watch the sunset, you soon hear footsteps behind you and years of familiarity let you know it's Changkyun.

Sure enough, a few seconds later he comes to stand next to you.

"I have been trying to reach you all morning."

"Hm."

Your response probably comes unexpected to him as he shifts his position, turning to look at you, eyes intensely boring into you.

A gust of a particularly strong wind flows, disrupting your hair, covering your face with a few strands, almost as if shielding you from his scrutiny.

"Well?" He prods. You remain silent, staring ahead, racking your brain for the right words to start this conversation.

"___, what did that murderer say?" He asks again, his pitch rising.

"Not what I expected to hear." You give in with a sigh, turning your head to look at him in the eye. Changkyun's eyes widen just a fraction, a look of alarm settling on his face.

"I think we were not completely innocent, either." There's a coldness in your voice but he misses it, hissing. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

You tell him how the meeting with Jihoon went before posing the million dollar question. "Is that really the truth, Changkyun?"

With every word leaving your lips, you see his expression change, going from disbelief to betrayal to anger and then, to guilt.

A silence falls as you wait and watch him, holding your breath as his head hangs low, his hair covering his face as he stares at the ground. The remnants of your hope fade away with every passing second.

"Tell me the truth, Kyun! Did my father really gamble away the money?" Your voice is a desperate plea.

"So what if he did!" He scowls at you.

Your whole body freezes as your fears get confirmed. It takes a good moment for you to speak. "Why did you and your father lie to me? You said he was completely innocent, that he did nothing wrong yet got murdered by Ji—"

"For revenge! I lied so that we could take revenge!"

"Revenge for what!" You cry, frustrated. "You and I know very well what the rules are in this world. You would not spare me either if I did to you what my father did!"

"They took your sister, ___. God knows what they did—"

"She's alive." You whisper.

Changkyun's eyes widen, his mouth opening to say something yet failing to do so. He brushes a frustrated hand through his hair, exhaling loudly as he processes the information.

"What is the plan now?" He asks, his voice muted, looking at the ground.

"What do you mean what's the plan!" You cry. "Did you not hear me? There is no plan, Kyun. This is as far as I can go!"

"You do not mean that, ___!" His voice booms, eyes wide with rage. "They killed your father, ruined his empire, ruined every one of our fucking lives! They have your sister locked away for fucks sake!"

You say the words you never thought you would. "My father did not have an empire. What he had was a gambling addiction and a business built on a house of cards." Your voice grows meek, eyes shining with tears of pain and exhaustion. "As for my sister," you take in a deep breath. "Jihoon said he would make her write me a letter. He said she has reasons for hiding but she is safe. I have decided to trust his words for now."

"You—" Changkyun looks at you, baffled. "You are a fucking coward, ___! What about the work we put on all these years? What about us? What about my father? Who's going to avenge him!"

You sigh, rubbing your forehead. Blinking back tears, you try to compose yourself by taking in a deep breath. "I had a harsh wake up call that made me realize that all these years you were lying to me and using me to quench your bloodthirst. Who's going to avenge your father? Maybe you, if you are crazy but not me. His addiction led him astray and he committed suicide. What is there to avenge?"

"___! He ended up like that because the Lees killed your father and ruined our business!" He's like a madman as he steps closer to you, yelling. You yell back, "Just stop it, Changkyun! What do you want me to do, huh? March into Jihoon's house and start firing? Do you know the levels of security that place has? Whatever men we have, he has ten times more and I do not want my team to walk into a suicide mission without any cause. And most importantly, I will not jeopardise the safety of my sister! Jihoon knows her whereabouts and I need him if I want to see my sister again!"

"You... you—" Changkyun has turned red with fury as his words fail him.

You do not like how this conversation is going and your exhaustion makes you take a step back.

"We were carrying their sins with us but I have realised, we don't need to. Our parents...they made their decisions and paid the price for it. Let it end with them, please. I don't want to drag this any more. I am tired, Kyun." You whisper, praying the words to reach him.

Years of hunting and planning the destruction of one man has left you tired to your bones along with a general disdain for the world you have been living in. You were alone all along, chasing a ghost.

It is time to stop.

"No. You are not tired. You are a coward. A brainwashed coward." Changkyun sneers, venom dripping from his eyes.

"If that's what you would like to believe, then so be it." You conclude, not finding the energy to argue with him anymore. Your indifference irks him as he scowls at you, his hands clenched into fists.

You announce. "I am going to retire. You can take over from here on but I suggest you look into doing something new. Our business—"

"Don't you fucking dare give me advice!" His voice booms as he charges towards you. In the blink of an eye, he grabs you by the collars, livid. "Don't utter a single fucking word, you traitor! You fucking liar! You got some dick and decided to switch sides huh!" He seethes, gripping your collars tight and violently shaking you. The headache you already had intensifies but that isn't the thing that's hurting you.

His words hurt. Despite his lies, you considered him your best friend for the past six years. And maybe it's the attachment or the nostalgia of all these years that prevents you from fighting back.

You are done.

You have done enough fighting for a lifetime.

Mean words roll off Changkyun's tongue as he pushes you to the ground in a fit of rage, throwing his legs over your torso as he wraps his arms around your neck.

The next moment there is a click of a gun and you manage to peek over Changkyun's shoulder to find Seokmin standing behind him, pointing a revolver at the back of his head.

Your breath catches in your throat.

What the hell is he doing here?

Changkyun's grip on your throat loosens when he feels the presence behind him as he attempts to turn around. However, Seokmin presses the nozzle of the gun harder into his head, hissing. "Let her go. Now."

"Changkyun, please. Stop." You whisper, finally finding your voice. You do not like the look in Seokmin's eyes, something you've never seen before, something lethal and untamed and paired with the gun in his hand, you do not trust what he might do.

"Speak of the devil." Changkyun scoffs, looking at you, still holding a steady grip on your neck. "The boyfriend is here to save the day."

"Let. Her. Go." Seokmin repeats.

Changkyun looks torn, fury blazing in his eyes while also being aware of the gun being pointed at his head. With a frustrated grunt, he loosens his grip on your throat and you use that fraction of a second to tackle him by grabbing his arms and pinning him to the ground as you come on top. "Stop it, Kyun." Your plea is a whisper that is met with eyes full of wrath.

The next second Seokmin abruptly tugs you behind by your arm as he takes a step forward, becoming a barrier between you and Changkyun. The gun is still in his hand, pointing towards your friend.

"Seokmin put the gun down. It's fine." You try to step forward and pry the weapon out of his hand but he doesn't let you, holding you behind protectively with an arm outstretched.

"You may trust him, but I don't," Seokmin replies, eyes fiercely trained on Changkyun who has sat up. His eyes are equally furious with an underlying hint of challenge, as if he's daring Seokmin to shoot.

And he just might.

"For fucks sake, both of you! Enough!" You holler, clutching onto Seokmin to drag him further away from Changkyun who slowly stands up and brushes the dust off of him before looking at you with a deathly stare. Seokmin's grip on your arm tightens, the gun still in his hand but not pointed at him now.

You can almost physically feel the air thicken with tension.

"Don't try to contact me, ___. If I see your face ever again, there will be a bullet hole between your eyes." Changkyun grits out, sparing one last look of scorn at you before marching away.

With the kaleidoscope of colours of the dusk sky, you watch your best friend of years walk away, experiencing heartbreak and a weird relief at the same time.

Silence settles with the sun dipping below the horizon. Seokmin let's go of you, putting some distance between your bodies. Your eyes meet his as you exchange a silent look full of turbulent emotions.

Emotions you can't quite name yet feel overwhelmed with.

"How did you find me?" Your soft inquiry breaks the silence. He removes his gaze from you and looks at the ground. "Went to your place this afternoon. As I was pulling up I saw your car leave and I just...followed you."

"Why?"

"I... don't know. My gut told me I should." He replies calmly.

You sigh as another beat of silence fills the air. The sky is now fully dark, spread wide with different shades of purple. The wind has gotten significantly colder and you feel like if you stay out too long, it will settle into your bones.

Like the echoing coldness in your heart.

"You should not have interrupted. I was dealing with him."

Seokmin frowns. "Dealing with him? By lying still and letting him choke you?"

"Like I said—"

"Forget that,'' Seokmin interrupts you with a huff. "I went to your place because I had to tell you something." You look at him inquisitively as he fishes out something from the breast pocket of his trench coat.

Extending his hand towards yours, he pushes something into your palm.

A ticket.

"What is this?" You find yourself asking.

"Remember how you said you wanted to go to a place by the sea." He begins, his voice soft like his gaze. "Well, this is it. Now that everything is over, you can go and live by the beach. This cruise leaves tomorrow afternoon. It'll take a few days to reach Barcelona."

You look at the little piece of paper in your hand, letting his words wash over you.

"Think of this as an apology for everything. For what me and my family put you through." He adds when you don't reply.

"I see." Your voice is almost inaudible.

Seokmin says nothing for a few moments, as if waiting for you to speak but when you don't, he continues. "I am going as well. To Barcelona, I mean."

You move his gaze to him and blink inquisitively.

"I felt like taking a break after everything. I haven't been on a vacation for a very long time. I, too, wanted to see the ocean. When I got tickets, I thought I'd get one for you. We don't have to go together or see each other if you decide to go, that is..." He trails off.

You gaze at him for a while, memorising his features. Swallowing a sudden lump in your throat, you force a smile and give him a shaky nod.

"Well, then. I'll get going." He takes a few steps back, rubbing his palms together.

"Bye."

"If you don't come tomorrow, this is goodbye, no?" He asks as he continues to take small steps away from you, still facing you.

"I guess so." You reply. He stops and takes a long look at you before saying. "It was really nice knowing you, ___. Despite our history, despite the short time, I don't regret meeting you and... loving you." The last two words fade into a whisper, making you doubt if he even said them.

You don't get a chance to reply. You don't even get a chance to wholly process his words before he gives a wave, a small smile on his face before jogging away.

You stay rooted to your spot.

I don't regret meeting you and loving you.

-

The sun is shining stronger than any other afternoon when you step out of the taxi with nothing but a small bag pack on your shoulders. Receiving the boarding pass, you walk into the deck which is now empty because the ship is set to leave in just five minutes.

It is not fully empty, however, because one person stands, looking anxious, his eyes skirting around wildly.

When his eyes land on you, a smile of relief seems to appear on his face, triggering the corners of your lips to rise slightly as well. In silence, you walk to him.

"You came." His voice sounds glad but also as if he is trying to school his excitement.

"Did not want to waste a free ticket." You shrug, looking away.

Seokmin nods. "Right. Well, you are just on time."

"I know." There's a pause for a second as he looks like he wants to say something. A staff gives out the final boarding call which makes you continue your way into the cruise, followed by Seokmin.

Once you are boarded, you walk towards the front of the vessel, glad that it is not too crowded. The whistle of the cruise booming in the air signals the start of its journey as the sunlight and the warm breeze kiss your face.

"I'm glad you decided to come," Seokmin says, making you turn around to look at him. In the soft glow of the sun and the wind playing with his hair, he looks breathtaking.

After a moment, you whisper. "Me too."

Giving you a nod and a friendly smile, he walks away with his suitcase into the upper deck and out of sight while you stand and watch him go, the sun warming your skin.

-

1 month later

The evening air has a slight chill, not uncomfortable but just pleasant. You walk barefoot on the sand, hands crossed over your chest as your feet carry you down the edge of the ocean with practised ease. Around you, people enjoy the beach after a hectic day, children playing around laughing, parents taking videos, friends flying kites, couples walking hand in hand. The sound of the waves crashing to the shore along with the remnants of orange hues in the sky sets up a wonderful atmosphere, which, after almost a month, you have become used to but certainly not bored of.

You have never felt so much at peace.

This getaway was truly what you needed as you learned to spend time by yourself, alone with your thoughts, isolated from the world yet watching it pass by. It has been a palliative experience so far. You came to terms with your life, your past, your actions and your feelings for a certain individual.

Just one day into your getaway, a letter was brought to your room by a hotel staff and upon opening it, you realised Jihoon kept his promise.

It was a handwritten letter from your sister, along with a picture of her, sitting next to a large painting that she created. She looks different, not how you remember her, a different glow on her face that you did not remember because she was almost always melancholic.

You now feel a little guilty because you never asked her why.

Dear ____.

It has been a long while, no? I am sorry for being out of touch. It is unforgivable, I know but I finally found the courage to write to you after you came to visit Jihoon. When we were first separated something was chasing me that made me want to run away from everything. I put off connecting to you for your own good when I heard you were living with Changkyun and his father and just like that, years had passed. I occasionally looked into your whereabouts and I knew you were doing fine but I never found it in me to get rid of the guilt and just write to you.

I tried hard not to show it but life was not so kind to me before the last six years and getting taken away from our dad was probably the best thing for me.

It is a story for another day and there are still demons that I need to defeat. After that I will come to see you and ask for forgiveness. Until then, live well and rest easy knowing that I have been doing better for the past few years.

Your sister.

Reading the letter was bittersweet, the first emotion invoked within you was hurt and longing as you shed a few tears seeing your sister's picture, mused about the old days and wondered what she went through all by herself.

Initially, you had thought of writing back a reply but you decided against it because the words you wish to utter can not be confined within a paper. Instead, you sent out a prayer to the universe, hoping you would get to meet her sometime soon.

From a distance, someone calls out your name, calling your attention back to the present and you turn instinctively to find Seokmin jogging towards you through the sand, two cones of ice creams in his hands. A smile appears on your lips as you take a few steps towards him, reaching your arms out. Wrapping him in a soft hug, you plant a sweet kiss on his lips before taking an ice cream from his hand and reaching for the other as well.

"Both of these are for me right?"

The poor man looks conflicted. "Well, uhm, no but if you want you can have them."

You snort a burst of laughter. "You can have it, Min. Maybe save a bite for me."

Hand in hand, you two walk a little closer to the shore and sit down, letting the flow of the waves occasionally touch your feet.

Your relationship with Seokmin developed surprisingly but quickly after coming to Barcelona. Initially, you did not expect anything, too overridden with the guilt of your tricks and the history of your families to make any attempt to talk to him. Two weeks went by as you did not see each other, except for occasionally bumping into each other at the beach or the hotel lobby because as fate would have it, you two shared the same hotel. It was hard and uncomfortable, pretending not to see him when you ran into him and it would make you wonder if he felt the same.

It all changed one night when you were returning to the hotel after dinner and some drinks. Tipsy and wobbly, you focused extra hard to not bump into anyone as you made your way into the lobby of the hotel.

And there you bumped into him, quite literally.

"Hey there, easy," The man's hands hold your shoulders to stop you from falling on your ass. You look up and find Seokmin. Thinking that you are seeing things, you blink two more times before coming to terms with the fact that it was indeed Seokmin in front of you.

"Someone had a lot to drink," He says as you try to regain your balance. "Can you go to your room by yourself? Should I come with you?"

With a huff, you push him away, trying to appear independent as you take wobbly steps. Seokmin decides to escort you, as he follows closely behind all the way, one hand outstretched, ready to catch you in case you fall.

When you reach your room, Seokmin assists you in unlocking the door. Once the job is done successfully, you pause in the entryway to look back at him. He stands there, somewhat awkward and you consider whether to shut the door on his face or ask him to come in. Neither of them sounds like a good idea but still, you kick the door to open it a little wider and murmur as you walk in, "Come in, if you want."

You don't look behind as you head for the small fridge to retrieve a water bottle and chug it down. Seokmin steps in, a bit hesitant, closing the door behind him. You take a seat on the edge of your bed as Seokmin gingerly sits down on the couch placed in front.

A small moment of silence passes by as you two observe each other. He is dressed in running gear and judging from the pristine condition of his hair, you assume that he was on his way for a late night jog.

"We keep bumping into each other," Seokmin tries to break the silence. You nod, "Must be fate." You are not quite sure if you said those words genuinely or sarcastically. Seokmin does not reply, probably thinking that you are being sarcastic.

You find yourself asking, "How have you been?"

"Good."

"How long do you plan to stay here?"

"A couple more weeks maybe."

"Are you having fun?''

"Yes."

"Am I making you uncomfortable?"

He takes a moment before replying, "Not really. I'm more worried if I am making you uncomfortable."

"Hm," you hum and with that, the conversation dies down. You have a lot to say on your mind but your mind is not in its top condition right now as you have had a few drinks, which makes it a bit harder to arrange your thoughts and address them accordingly.

"I should get going, I suppose," Seokmin says, rubbing his palms on his thighs.

"Wait," the words slip out of your mouth in urgency and you are not even sure why you are telling him so.

The man blinks at you.

"I—" You don't know what you wish to say. "I guess I just wanted to say...I'm sorry."

Seokmin appears a little surprised hearing you say that as he sits up straighter. You huff out a long breath, looking down at the empty water bottle in your hand. "What I'm trying to say is that...I am sorry that I played with your feelings. I- I am sorry for using you. You are a nice person, professor."

You calling him by his old title makes him smile as he says. "I just realized I missed you calling me by that name."

"Professor?"

"Yes, ___?"

A small smile appears on your face as well as you bite your lip to stifle it.

"___?" Seokmin's soft voice makes you look at him. He looks unsure but also hopeful. "Hypothetically, if I told you that I still miss you and that I still long for you, what would you say?"

"Your breath stalls as you watch him, wide eyed. There is a sudden lump in your throat that makes it impossible for you to speak. You are scared you might start crying if you do so. Still, you breathe, "Hypothetically, I would say that I feel the same too.''

"And would it be a lie this time, my beautiful liar?"

You swallow as you watch him take slow steps towards you. When he stands right in front of you, his hands gently cup your cheeks, carefully tilting your head upwards so that you can meet his eyes. They shine with emotions unsaid, just like yours and the look on his face makes your heart soar, makes you forget everything, makes you want to be selfish.

"No," you whisper.

You get to see the slightest tilt of his lips to a smile as he leans down and presses his lips to yours, softly at first before you eagerly chase his lips and he reciprocates, moving the hair away from your face and holding your neck with one hand and stroking your cheek with the other.

The kiss is full of passion but also slow and sweet, an addictive combination that tells you that you are done for. With another kiss on your forehead, Seokmin lets go, stepping away from you.

"Will I see you tomorrow morning or will you declare this as a drunk mistake and start hiding from me?" He asks cheekily.

You can't help a smile. "I will expect you to pick me up at 9 am sharp. We will have breakfast together."

You will take it slow this time.

"Whatever you wish," He flashes his beautiful smile, heading for the door. As he is about to close it behind him, he turns his head around. "Goodnight, ___. Sweet dreams."

"Goodnight, Seokmin."

-

Fast forward a couple of weeks later, you two moved out of the hotel and instead rented a small villa near the coast for an indefinite amount of time. You have no plans of going back home but you know that Seokmin's nature of work will require him to leave sometimes which you are fine with.

"So, I got an invitation to a seminar in London." Seokmins words jolt you out of the thoughts running in your head. "I don't think they are going to accept a no." He adds sadly.

"You don't have to say no." You reply. "Just go and attend it. Share your expertise with the world."

"Mhmm," he hums, looking at you in a contemplating gaze. "Would you consider coming with me?"

You blink. "Well..."

"It's a one-day seminar. We can stay a couple of days more and look around the city. It would be fun, I think."

You consider his words. It would be fun, actually.

You have no reason to hold yourself back from having new experiences now. You have punished yourself enough.

"It's a good idea." You reply with a soft smile that makes your boyfriend grin as he puts his arm around your shoulder, gently pulling your body closer to him. You let your head fall on his shoulder as you watch the sky grow dark.

No more lies now, it's just peace.

Your story that began with lies painted in red will end in red too, but this time the red will paint love.

A/N: Thanks for reading it till the end! I would like to apologize for the delay as this was supposed to be posted two weeks earlier but yk, life happened. The other two stories of this series are in the making but the next story will not be out before May. Also, I am planning on making a standalone for Jihoon's story which will not exactly be a part of this series but it's in the same timeline. It will be posted after all the stories of this series are completed. Anyways, stay safe and toodles!

Also, please leave a comment and reblog! It really motivates me to create more!

© startlightxsvt 2024 | All Rights Reserved. Do not copy, repost, translate, adapt, or repurpose any of my works.

[deluluwrites]

Florist!Barbie x Ken

✨Part 2

🌸💖🌷🌺💐🌸💖🌷🌺💐🌸💖🌷🌺💐

Once upon a time in the colorful world of BarbieLand, there was a lovely Barbie named Florist Barbie. She had her own little flower shop, “Blooms and Petals," filled with beautiful blossoms of all colors and varieties.

Every day, the doll inhabitants of BarbieLand would come to her shop to buy flowers for their loved ones, and Florist Barbie would take pride in arranging the most enchanting bouquets for them.

Unlike the other Barbie dolls, Florist Barbie had a unique passion for flowers, and her shop was known for its enchanting arrangements and delightful fragrances.

However, there was something that set her apart from the rest of the Barbies in town - there was a hint of sadness in her eyes because, unlike many other Barbies, she didn't have a Ken of her own.

Every day, like clockwork, Stereo Ken strolled into "Blooms and Petals" to buy a bouquet for Stereo Barbie, the girl of his dreams.

Florist Barbie couldn't help but feel a pang of longing whenever she saw them together, as she secretly harbored feelings for Stereo Ken.

Stereo Ken was dashing, with his perfectly coiffed hair and chiseled features. He came to “Blooms and Petals” every morning to buy flowers for Stereo Barbie.

Every morning as Stereo Ken walked into her shop. She'd watch him carefully as he perused the blooms, helping him choose the most meaningful flowers that he believed would win Stereo Barbie's heart.

Florist Barbie's stomach would flutter uncontrollably as she admired Ken from afar, secretly pining for his affection. She knew she could never reveal her feelings, for she feared it would ruin their friendship and Ken's admiration for her floral expertise.

Despite her own longing for him, Florist Barbie couldn't resist helping him. She knew she was trapped in a bittersweet situation where she had to be the silent supporter of his romantic pursuit.

One day, Stereo Ken entered the shop, looking a bit troubled. "Hey, Barbie," he greeted her with a hint of sadness in his voice.

"Hey, Ken, What brings you in today?" she replied with a warm smile. “I need your help," Ken admitted, glancing around the shop nervously. "I want to get the perfect flowers for Barbie today. I've been trying so hard to win her heart, but I just feel like I'm not good enough for her."

Florist Barbie's heart sank, "Ken, you are an amazing person," she said sincerely, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You are kind, thoughtful, and caring. Anyone would be lucky to have you."

Ken sighed, "I don't know. Barbie is so perfect, and I feel like I can never measure up to her expectations." Florist Barbie felt a mix of sympathy and frustration.

She wanted to tell him that he deserved someone who appreciated him for who he was, but she couldn't reveal her true feelings. Instead, she focused on helping him find the perfect flowers for Barbie.

"Let's pick out some flowers with special meanings," she suggested, leading him through the shop. "How about these roses? They represent love and admiration, which perfectly captures your feelings for Barbie."

Ken nodded, his face brightening a little. "That sounds good. What else?" Florist Barbie went to another display, “Oooh! Lilies, represent purity and devotion, which can be perfect if you want to show your sincerity.”

She went to another display and picked some more flowers, “Or these Orchids could signify beauty and admiration, which is an ideal choice to convey your admiration for her grace. And then, there are the sunflowers, symbolizing warmth and happiness, a great way to express the joy she brings into your life."

Ken listened intently to her words, nodding slowly. "Those are all wonderful choices, Barbie. But you know what I just realized? Aren't all these your favorite too?"

Florist Barbie blushed, unable to hide her secret any longer. "Well, yes, they are," she admitted, her voice a soft whisper. "I find beauty and meaning in all of them. But enough about me, let's focus on helping you choose the perfect bouquet for Barbie."

They continued their search, and Florist Barbie carefully selected a bouquet that conveyed love, admiration, sincerity, warmth, and happiness, hoping that Stereo Barbie would see the depth of Ken's affection.

As Ken hurriedly gathered the bouquet, he turned to Florist Barbie with a grateful smile. "Thanks for all your help, Barbie. I don't know what I would have done without you. You're such a good friend."

Florist Barbie's heart sank as she forced a weak smile in return. "You're welcome, Ken. I'm glad I could assist you. I hope Barbie loves the flowers."

Ken nodded enthusiastically, seemingly oblivious to the turmoil within Florist Barbie's heart. "I'm sure she will. They're perfect, just like you always say."

With that, he dashed out of the flower shop, leaving Florist Barbie standing there, feeling the weight of heartbreak and unrequited love.

She watched him go, struggling to keep her composure, "That's what I do, Barbie," she sighs whispering to herself, forcing a smile. "I help others find happiness even if it's not with me."

🌸💖🌷🌺💐🌸💖🌷🌺💐🌸💖🌷🌺💐

The next day, BarbieLand was buzzing with excitement as Stereo Barbie announced she was hosting a Big Blowout Party.

Florist Barbie was attending the event, feeling a mix of excitement and sadness. She chatted with her friend Allan, who could see the longing in her eyes whenever Ken was mentioned.

Ken approached them, looking anxious. "Hey, Barbie. Allan. Can I talk to you for a moment?" Allan looked at Florist Barbie curiously. "Sure, Ken. What's on your mind?" Florist Barbie tried to appear composed, even though her heart was racing as she replied almost instantly.

"I'm thinking of asking Barbie(Stereo) to dance tonight. Do you think she'd say yes?" he asked, nervously running his hand through his perfectly coiffed hair and scratching his neck nervously.

“Well I think-“ Allan begins wanting to give his buddy advice but Florist Barbie musters smile and interrupts. "Absolutely, Ken. You should go for it! I'm sure she'd love to dance with you."

Ken thanks them giving Florist Barbie his wine goblet joining the dance floor leaving Florist Barbie feeling a mixture of happiness for him and deep sorrow within herself.

Allan, seeing her distress, took her aside. "Barbie, you can't keep this to yourself any longer. You need to tell Ken how you feel."

She sighs throwing the goblet behind her, "I can't, Allan. It's too painful. I'll only end up losing his friendship too."

Allan placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "You deserve to be happy too, Barbie. You never know how Ken might feel about you if you don't confess. Take a chance, or you'll always wonder what could have been."

Despite Allan's words, Florist Barbie left the party heartbroken. She found solace near a shimmering pink water fountain. Sitting alone, she felt a deep pain in her heart as she stared at her reflection in the plastic water.

Suddenly, to her shock, a human-like tear trickled down her porcelain cheek. "What is happening to me?" she wondered in astonishment. Shocked, she touched her face, wondering how such a thing was possible. Little did she know that her genuine emotions and the depth of her feelings had brought her to life in a way she had never experienced before.

Part 2….?

[xi4oyan]

May I request both Nezha and Erlang Shen x monkey yaoguai reader HC's pls?

Hope you like (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · · Nezha and Erlang Shen x Monkey Yaoguai Reader

🔥 Nezha

🔆 Nezha initially saw you as a threat, a mischievous yaoguai that needed to be dealt with. You, on the other hand, found his impulsive nature amusing and provoked him until he lost his patience.

🔆 Fights between you two are common, but instead of hatred, they’re filled with pure energy and fun. He finds it annoying how fast and slippery you are, and you enjoy running away just to tease him.

🔆 You love stealing his Cosmic Ring or his spear and dashing off just to make him chase you. Nezha always catches you, and when he does, he holds your wrists and grins challengingly: "Do you really think you can escape me?"

🔆 After a while, Nezha starts enjoying your antics and even joins in. If there’s a plan to cause chaos and laugh about it later, he’s willing to take part—so long as it’s with you.

🔆 If he sees another god or spirit trying to get close to you, Nezha immediately joins the conversation, throwing an arm around your shoulder with a smug smile: "Oh? Trying to steal my troublemaker? Good luck with that."

🔆 Even though he’s a celestial warrior bound by duty, Nezha admires your free spirit. You are untamed, and he loves that, even if he never admits it out loud.

🔆 Nezha loves testing your reflexes and combat skills. Every time he suggests training, it turns into a game of chase. You’re one of the few who can keep up with him.

🔆 He acts like he doesn’t care, but he’s always watching out for you. If anyone tries to harm you, Nezha won’t hesitate to set heaven and earth on fire to protect you.

🔆 He never laughs as much as he does when he’s with you. No matter how tough he tries to appear, it’s impossible not to have fun when you’re around.

🔆 One day, after a particularly difficult battle, Nezha looks at you and, without his usual arrogance, speaks with pure sincerity: "I don’t want a world without you in it. So… try not to get into too much trouble, okay?"

Erlang Shen

🔆 Erlang Shen saw you as a wild yaoguai that needed to be tamed. You, of course, mocked his seriousness and made it your new pastime to test his self-control.

🔆 You try to escape, but his third eye always follows your movements. No matter how fast or sneaky you are, he always knows where you are.

🔆 Calling him "General Stiff" or "Mr. Rules" has become your favorite hobby. He pretends not to care, but he always counters with subtle remarks that make you blush.

🔆 Erlang Shen will never openly admit he worries about you, but if anyone threatens you, he takes care of it before you even realize it.

🔆 You try to pull pranks on him, but Erlang Shen is extremely difficult to fool. On the rare occasion that you succeed, he simply raises an eyebrow and says calmly: "Enjoy the victory; it won’t happen again."

🔆 You constantly push his limits, but you’ve never seen him truly angry. Erlang Shen has almost unshakable self-control, which makes it even more fun to try and break it.

🔆 When you’re sad or exhausted, he doesn’t push you to talk. He simply sits beside you, waiting for you to open up in your own time.

🔆 He acts like he doesn’t care when another god flirts with you, but the way his third eye glows intensely gives him away.

🔆 Erlang Shen isn’t one for grand declarations, but when he finally confesses his feelings, it’s in a calm, definitive way: "No matter where you go, my gaze will always find you."

🔆 After a long time, you realize he never actually tried to capture you. Deep down, he just wanted to understand why you, with all your freedom and chaos, were the one thing he could never push from his mind.

[docochocart]

DOCORONPA R2 CAST

( 3 - 16 )

ULTIMATE RACER

One windy morning in a small, unassuming midwestern town, a legend was born. By the time she'd depart for college, Racer would leave her mark on this unremarkable town.

Raised alongside 5 rambunctious older brothers, competition was a consistent feature of her early childhood.

She was no stranger to rough-housing, action figures, and other "boyish" activities growing up. While she would never be judged for her interests at home, school was a different story.

In elementary, Racer found herself passed over by most of her female peers on account of her tomboyish interests. Most of the boys weren't too kind to her as-well, hurling homophobic slurs her way in her early years. It would quickly stop when she started throwing punches in return.

While her knack for fighting got her into plenty of trouble with school administration, it's what was able to finally score some friends: The bad kids.

At the age of 11, Racer would get behind the wheel of her first car. It was a sleepover turned parental car-jacking.

They only took it for a couple laps around the block that night, but Racer realized her life's purpose in that 2001 Subaru Outback:

She was a car girl.

From then on, Racer would beg her oldest brother for driving lessons almost every day. It wasn't long before he caved. Racer would pass a mock drivers test with her brother before her twelfth birth day.

From then on, secret rides to fast food joints and grocery stores was common place for Racer. Her brother would kick back on his phone, happy to have a personal driver. These short trips filled the void for now, but Racer always craved more.

At 15, Racer would be arrested for speeding without a license after sneaking out with her mom's car. While the law would let her off with a slap on the wrist, her parents would be less forgiving.

Racer would be grounded until her 16th birthday, which interfered with her rapidly growing popularity with her female peers.

The girls seemed to have taken a heel-turn on Racer in the later years of high school. Her tomboyish demeanor and rebellious ways scored her a lot different attention than it had in previous years.

Meanwhile, at home, Racer's mom had assigned her one task during this 6-month-long grounding:

Become a responsible driver and earn her license.

Replacing her brother in the passenger seat, her mother acted as a strict driving instructor. They would go on nightly drives around town, following the same route each night. This would continue until Racer's grounding finally reached its deadline.

On her 16th birthday, Racer would earn her liscence without a hitch.

The following week, Racer would go on 5 different dates with 5 different girls. To her it was like making up for lost time. However, this pace would continue for her.

For the next year, Racer gained a reputation amongst her classmates as a player of sorts. This wouldn't stop her from landing dates, so it didn't weigh on her much.

Outside of school, Racer's rebellious streak had reached new heights. Every Friday night, she would tell her mom that she was going over a friends' place. Obviously this was a lie.

Racer would drive 40 minutes out to the nearest city for the greatest thrill of her life, drag racing. She would reach speeds of 110 MPH in her janky station wagon alongside reckless strangers.

She had installed a dash cam to capture the thrills and spills, saving the videos to a hidden folder in her phone. She'd rewatch these clips late at night, yearning for her next near-death ride.

She'd never felt as free as she did behind the wheel with the pedal to the metal. She began to make a name for herself amongst the local drag racing punks. It wasn't long before she cemented her name with law enforcement as-well.

After her second arrest, it seemed the law was going to be a lot less kind with her. Her mom revoked her keys, threatened to sell her car, and grounded her for another 6 months.

With now-infinite downtime and a looming court case over her head, Racer only had her dash cam clips to live vicariously through.

Inspired by online creators, Racer began spending her time at home chopping up and editing these videos. Upon uploading her first edit, she'd reach massive success.

Seeing an opportunity and this and having nothing to lose, she continued posting edits online until doomsday was finally upon her.

It was the day before her court date that a near get out of jail free card would arrive in the mail: A letter from Hope's Peak University.

It seems her reckless posting had actually done her some good, and even the massive fines she'd endure the following day couldn't bring her down.

She could be a Hope's Peak alumni someday.

Ignoring the fines completely, Racer immediately invested in a wardrobe more befitting of her new title.

She'd make the money back and then some anyways, right?

[bird-in-the-space]

Echoes of the Unknown

You put your plan into action. Now, will you escape, or be captured by the cons?

Warnings: Cursing, near panic attack, Emily sweet-talking Knockout, shocking Knockout, and escaping.

Chapter 19

----------------------------------------

Fuck! 

Shit! 

Fucking!

Hell!

Dammit! 

You were trying your hardest not to have a panic attack after watching Soundwave take Emily away to somewhere they might torture her for information. How the hell did it go this wrong? You just needed to figure out the ground bridge controls, wait for Emily, and then get the hell out of this ship. 

What are you gonna do now? 

You took a deep breath, trying to calm down your panicking mind. Alright, (Name). Calm your shit down. You can’t help Emily if you start panicking and give yourself away. There has to be something you can do to get her and yourself out of this. 

You knew Knockout. He’s the medic of the Decepticons. The bots also described him as someone who did not like his paint job getting ruined. As the medic, he had to be at the med bay, so that’s where Emily was currently taken toward. 

You knew where the ground bridge console was. You could go to the med bay, grab Emily, and run for the ground bridge console. But what would you do when they sound the alarm? You would then need a diversion to keep the attention away from you. 

Your eyes widened when you remembered something. The drills! You could code the drills to start automatically and use them as a distraction. But what if they turn off the drills before you could use the ground bridge? Then what? 

You then grabbed the Holly out of its hiding place. You stared at the little device while organizing your thoughts into a fully formed plan. It was a bit of a long shot, but if you were careful and timed everything right, you and Emily would get off this ship without further issues. You could use the Holly to trick the cons when needed. You just needed to do a few more scans. It was a good thing the vehicons shared the same face as you. 

Attaching the Holly around your wrist, you left the ground bridge console to prepare your plan for action. You just hoped that Emily could hold on till then.  

Emily stayed quiet while still being held by the metal tentacle thing. Soundwave quietly took her somewhere. She tried to start a conversation, but the mech was silent like a rock.  It was actually a bit unnerving—- even you weren’t this quiet. 

They then arrived at what seemed to be the med bay. Emily saw a red bot waiting there. 

Soundwave dropped her off on the metal table. Emily yelped and grunted from the fall. She quickly checked on her camera, seeing no damage to it, before returning her attention to the two cons who looked down at her. 

“So, this is the Autobot pet that caused poor Airachnid some trouble? You can leave Soundwave. I’ll take it from here,” the red bot said, and the faceless con left without a word. 

Emily cautiously looked at the red bot. She had seen him a couple of times while hiding in the vents and guessed his name to be Knockout, the medic of the cons and assumably the crazy doc. 

“Now, doll face. Since you know the location of the Autobot base, I suggest you start talking. I would hate to ruin that pretty face of yours,” Knockout said, turning his arm into a spiral saw. 

The sight of the saw unnerved her, but unwilling to share the information and desperate to cause a diversion, she quickly went through her mind for ideas. Only one idea seemed worth the shot. 

“I… uh… Sorry. I was stunned for a moment because you certainly are the most dashing con I’ve seen on this ship so far,” Emily started. 

Knockout turned his arm back to normal with interest in his eyes. “Oh?” 

“Yeah! This place is so dark and gloomy. There’s barely any color and here you are, standing out in your cherry red paint like a polished ruby among these plain rocks,” she continued, quickly observing his form and the wheels on his back. 

“Is it safe to assume that your alt form is based on Aston Martin? I heard it's one of the best sports cars to this day, really pretty and really fast,” she asked, emphasizing the pretty and fast words. 

“You have a good eye, human, and a good taste,” Knockout stated. 

“I admire beautiful things. I’m afraid not even the Autobots can compare to your looks,” Emily said, causing him to grin. “You must have a meticulous paint care routine. So, what’s your secret?“ she asked 

“I’m glad you asked. I rarely get to talk about my care routines with anyone on this ship,” Knockout said. 

“Then talk away. Perhaps we could exchange secrets, one car enthusiast to another,” Emily smiled. Knockout started talking about his supposed care routine while Emily hoped it would buy you enough time to form up a plan to save her. 

Walking past vehicons, you used the Holly to scan them while they were walking. You were careful enough to cover the scan light to avoid catching attention while making your way to the mining storage. 

You arrived at your destination and to your luck, no one was in the room. If you remember correctly, Steve, Carl, and the others were on their breaks. You quickly grabbed a data pad and climbed to the nearest drill. Remembering how Raf did his coding tricks, you opened the drill’s panel and attached the wires to the data pad. You connected the datapad to the drill and opened the coding terminal.

You put your complete faith in remembering what each of the codes did and how to write them in cybertronian letters, adding them to the drill’s system and giving you a way to activate them remotely. After succeeding, you placed the panel back and jammed the controls so that they would start moving after activation.

You then went to the next drill and repeated the progress. You programmed three of the drills and decided it would be enough for the diversion. 

Now, it was time to get Emily. 

Emily nodded along as Knockout continued on about his paint job and complaints about working with the Decepticons. She kept up with an interested face, but after some fair minutes, it started to get a bit tiresome. However, it was necessary to keep him talking about his interest because it would buy you time to figure out a plan to save her. She had faith in you — you were smart and creative when it comes to solving problems. 

She checked the time on her camera. It had been twenty minutes now. Hopefully, you have already come up with something to get you both out of this mess. 

“Anyway, even though I enjoyed this brief discussion about my life. I think we have to get back to the real business, which is you telling us the location of the Autobot base,” Knockout suddenly stopped talking, turning his attention to her. 

“Hold on! I was enjoying listening to you talk why stop now?” she asked, hoping he would keep talking. 

“Because, dollface, I have a job to do, and Lord Megatron would do something much worse to me than scrap my paint if I do not bring him results sooner than later,” he answered. 

“Okay, I understand…” Emily’s eyes suddenly noticed you arriving behind the doors of the med bay. You were looking at them through the opening. 

“But— I must ask. If working with the Decepticons is so rough and most of your colleagues treat you badly— why do you keep working with them?” Emily asked. “From what you were saying, it’s nearly impossible to satisfy their expectations,” 

“It is challenging I admit, but there are certain perks of being a con which makes fighting for the Decepticon cause worth it,” Knockout replied. 

Emily kept Knockout talking while you surveyed the med bay, trying to think of a way to get Emily out of there without causing an alarm. Your eyes then landed on what seemed to be one of those shock rods. It gave you an idea. It would most likely set the alarm, but the other options also involved setting off the alarms, so this was probably something you just had to do. 

You dared to enter the med bay through the automatic doors. You walked slowly while watching Knockout and Emily talk. She glanced at you a few times. 

“Anyway!” she started, raising her tone, and keeping Knockout's attention on herself. 

“Knockout. I get it you have a job to do. “ she slapped her hands together, causing Knockout to raise his brow curiously. “Working with Megatron seems hard enough so I won’t put up a fight,”

“Hmm. Smart choice, Emily,” Knockout said with a pleased tone. 

“But! Before we start with my interrogation. Can I take a few pictures of you? I’m actually a photographer and I think it would be a waste not to capture a beauty like yourself in my camera lens,” she asked. “Be my model for a moment, please. I will then start talking about the Autobot base,” she said, pleading innocently with her eyes. 

You stopped to see if Knockout agreed to it. 

“Hmm? Well… I guess I would not mind getting photographed if it gets you talking. Make sure to get my good sides, doll face. You won’t get an opportunity like this for the second time,” Knockout said, flaunting his claws. 

“Lovely!” Emily slapped her hands together. 

You quietly sighed in relief and rolled your eyes at the con’s ego. Emily— you one hell of a sweet-talker. 

You turned your attention to the shock rod as it was within your reach. Quietly grabbing it, you then turned toward Emily and Knockout as he prepared to pose. 

“Alright,” Emily held up her camera after setting in. 

“Ready…” 

Knockout waited but then you pushed the shock rod between his neck, causing him to yell as he was electrocuted. He then dropped down on the floor, smoking from his openings. You and Emily stared at the unconscious con for a moment. 

You sighed then dropped the rod, extending your hand toward Emily. 

“Come on. It’s time for us to leave this place,” 

Emily hopped into your hand and you quickly left the med bay. 

You move through the hallways, taking calm deep breaths. You try to keep a steady pace while walking past the vehicons. They paid you no mind except some nods as a greeting, which you returned. Your nerves and spark pulsed with anxiety as you were actively hiding something from the cons. When you felt the weight inside your chest move again, you made a quick stop at an empty room. 

You opened your chest. “Em! Stop moving! “ you said as she was hidden in there. 

“Sorry, it’s a bit cramped here,” she said, trying to get into a better position. 

You then heard what you suspected to be an alarm. 

“Troopers. An infiltrator with a similar face as yours has released the human prisoner and is attempting to escape. You are to find and capture them immediately!” you heard Megatron order through the com. 

“Seems like our time is running out,” Emily remarked. 

“Then It’s a good thing I prepared a diversion,” you said then pushed a button in your arm, sending the signal for the drills to activate. 

In the mining room, the three drills activated. The baffled vehicons watched and ran away when they saw the drills move, hitting each other and the walls. The vehicons quickly fled the room and avoided getting torn to pieces by the drills. 

The ship shook beneath you and you could hear the drills in the distance. You saw the passing vehicons turn their attention toward the mining room and run over there to stop the chaos. 

“Alright. Time to go,” you said, closing your chest. 

After seeing the last vehicons run past you, you used a shortcut to run for the ground bridge console. To your relief, the ground bridge console was empty. The cons would be too busy to stop the drills, so you had time to set the coordinates. 

“Squadron in the east hallways. The pretender is at the bridge console,” you heard the voice say and then noticed what seemed to be a surveillance camera watching you from the ceiling corner. You quickly shot the camera with your blaster. 

You then heard running in the distance. 

“What are we gonna do now?” Emily asked through your chest, having heard the speaker and your blaster fire. 

Your mind wanted to panic but then an idea popped into your head. 

“I have an idea,” you said, inputting the coordinates and activating the ground bridge. The green vortex appeared beside you. You then powered up the Holly, just in time when a squad of vehicons arrived at the ground bridge console. 

You looked at them as they saw you.

“Halt!” 

You ran inside the ground bridge. They gave chase, following you into the vortex, unaware that they were following a hologram version of you. 

After they ran in, you appeared from the wall, having figured out how to use the Holly to camouflage with the environment. You stepped to the console and deactivated the ground bridge, trapping the vehicons to the random location you inputted. You then added your intended coordinates, opening the ground bridge and running through — escaping the Decepticon warship with the ground bridge closing behind you. 

Driving on the road in your alt-mode, you speeded without stopping. You did not want to take chances of the cons catching up to you or tracking you down even though you had the locator long removed. The adrenaline makes you go even faster as you and Emily finally take a breather from the tense escape. 

Emily laughed. 

“That was brilliant! That was awesome! You actually tricked them!” she exclaimed with the biggest grin on her face. 

“Yeah! But let’s not do that again!” you replied through the radio. 

“But still! That was awesome!” she exclaimed, laughing and resting against your car seat. 

“You know. You are much braver than you let yourself believe,” she said. “You’ll make a one fearless Autobot,” she added.  

“I was actually terrified the whole time. I was afraid it would fail and we both end up as hostages,” you replied. 

“But we didn’t thanks to you,” Emily smiled softly. 

“Thanks for coming after me. I do not know what I would have done if I was on my own with them,” she said, looking through your windshield. 

“Of course. I couldn’t just stand there while they took you, especially someone like Airachnid,“ you said, thinking about the spider con. 

“I care about you too much to let anything happen to you,” you said. 

Emily smiled. 

“I love you too,” she said, patting the top of your dashboard. 

“Now, let’s call in the bots. They must be dead worried about us,” she said. You then called in the bots and asked for a ground bridge, which they happily activated. You were glad as you both were finally out of danger. 

[jenosbliss]

Hey for your requests opening Can you do enemies to lovers female reader x Vampire Yuta, + 11,13,17,19 with ᵃ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ angst then fluff & smut =)

pairing. siren!reader x vampire!yuta | genre. angst, fluff (a dash of it) | wc. 1.8k | warnings. mentions of blood, tying up with ropes, that's all i guess

summary. there was an ongoing battle for dominance over the forests of Eldoria between the vampires and werewolves, which resulted in you being kidnapped. Yuta came to save but what truth is he hiding from you?

a/n. hii anon! i'm really sorry i couldn't add smut to it :((

“You cannot manipulate me like this,” declared the man as he bound your legs with ropes, a glint of pride in his eyes. The rope cut into your skin, drawing blood, causing you to groan in pain, though the sound was muffled by the cloth in your mouth.

The power of a siren's voice was their strongest weapon, and your current inability to speak left you feeling utterly helpless. The man, unmistakably a werewolf with his thick hair and bright amber eyes, had captured you and gagged you securely to prevent any manipulation.

The ancient struggle for dominance over the forests of Eldoria between werewolves and vampires had raged for centuries, with sirens playing a crucial role in aiding the rulers. The werewolves, eager for power, were willing to go to any lengths, even resorting to kidnapping a siren.

“Touch her, and you're dead.” a voice filled with disdain warned. Yuta, the future leader of the vampires, emerged from the shadows of the forest, his pale skin and emotionless eyes a chilling sight.

“What? You think you can stop me? A mere vampire like you?” the werewolf taunted with a devilish grin. “Don't pretend, Yuta, you desire the same thing. Your leader craves it too!” he growled, baring his sharp fangs.

Terror gripped you at his words. Yuta had never been your protector; in the past, he had often been the cause of life-threatening scenarios you found yourself in. Your attempts to influence him through your voice had always been futile, adding to your frustration.

Your grandmother had once been an ally of the vampires, supporting them, until Yuta's father ascended to the leadership and ordered the eradication of sirens, deeming them a deadly threat to Eldoria's throne.

The sight of Yuta filled you with even greater dread for your safety.

“You are mistaken, my dear lupine companion. We have no intention of harming an innocent siren,” Yuta stated casually, approaching where you were bound. “Coming from a vampire, that doesn't sound convincing,” the werewolf sneered. “Especially considering your history of siren slayings,” he added, advancing towards Yuta. “since their charms don't work on you.”

““None of the matter right now. Our reputations and resistance to their charms,” Yuta smirked, gesturing towards the sky. “What matters is that your pack probably needs you now. It seems there may be trouble, there might be a  little fire in their den.”

Sudden howls reverberated through the forest, causing the werewolf to snarl at Yuta. Through clenched teeth, he vowed, “You will pay for this.” Then, turning to you, he remarked, “He won't come to your rescue,sweetheart... but we shall cross paths again.” With that, he transformed into a wolf and vanished into the trees on all fours.

As he departed, Yuta swiftly made his way towards you, urgently releasing you from your restraints. "Are you alright?" He inquired, taking the cloth ball from your mouth. "Stay away from me!" You cried out, causing the trees nearby to sway vigorously as if caught in a storm, yet Yuta appeared unaffected by it.

"I can save you." He exhaled a small sigh as he moved closer to you. "Do not believe his words. I am here to protect you, Y/N."

You scoffed at his promise to protect you. "How could I trust you? When your father sought only to harm my people? Do you think I'm a fool?"

"No, I understand his actions were wrong and I can never erase the pain he caused you, but please, Y/N, I swear things have changed."

"Then how are things now? Huh? Are you pretending to be my savior, manipulating me into believing your facade?" You stepped back, widening the gap between you. "We need you... I- I need you," he admitted with a touch of resignation in his voice.

"What?" You halted, gazing at him with wounded eyes. "I love you. I know it may be hard to believe, but I do. You may see me as a threat, but trust me, I have always tried to save you in some way."

His words prompted you to recall those moments when you found yourself on the brink of death. Amidst the recent feud between the two factions, you always assumed he was out to end your life, but perhaps it was quite the opposite.

"I have endeavored to save you because I love you. I know I should not harbor these feelings for you, but I cannot resist! Please let me save you," he implored, drawing nearer and tenderly cupping your face in his hand.

"Do you trust me?" He murmured softly, peering into your eyes. For the first time, you detected a glimmer of something in his lifeless eyes... a glimmer of love and resolve. You desired to flee and shun him, to despise him, yet a voice within you responded, "Yes, I trust you, Yuta."

He grinned, pulling you in a warm embrace as he whispered, "I will fight anything and anyone for you... for us." He pulled back slightly and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Always believe in me, never let go of that trust.”

Hesitantly, you nodded, feeling a deep sense of truth and passion in his gaze. Leaning towards you, he pressed his lips to yours softly, his gentle touch caressing your cheek as he drew you closer with his other hand.

Bathed in the gentle moonlight, both of you shared a tender kiss beneath the towering trees. Embracing Yuta meant challenging the age-old regulations set by your forefathers - a siren was never to love a vampire. Their relationship was meant to be purely political, but his proximity and protective nature made you yearn to defy your own kind.

Yet, to Yuta, it was all a charade, a mask he wore to trap you in his desires to  fulfill his father's mission - the eradication of sirens. He had no intention of harming you, only of weakening your community by turning you into a traitor, ultimately leading to their downfall.

He was not a savior, but a harbinger of destruction.

masterlist. nct dream | nct 127 | wayv

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[kotegiris]

[Butler Story - Nac] Nac’s Secret

previous chapter ✧ all

Chapter 3

-A little later-

【Espoir - Back Alley Warehouse】

Men: Gwah…!

Men: Urgh…!

Thud, thud…

Nac: There we go.

Nac: That’s everyone.

Men: Urguuh…

Nac: Are you really assassins from the Stein family?

Nac: The famed family of assassins seems to be on the decline…

Men: T-This guy’s too strong…

Men: We didn’t land a single blow on him.

Men: He’s a stick. How is he so strong…

Muu: Amazing, Nac-san!

Muu: You beat so many people so fast!

Nac: Ahh~ That’s right. Before I forget, let me clarify one thing…

Nac: Everyone I’ve defeated is still breathing.

Nac: Rest assured, I avoided hitting anyone’s vitals.

Nac: I’ve already decided to stop taking lives.

Nac: You should treasure people’s lives too.

Men: D-Damn it…

Nac: Now that you’ve learned the hard way…

Young Man: Damn it!!

Young Man: It’s not over yet!

Nac: !!

Muu: Oh no! He’s going for Aruji-sama with a knife…!

Muu: Aruji-sama, dodge!

> Dodge to the right > Dodge to the left

Young Man: I knew you’d go that way!

> He knew…!? > I-I can’t dodge in time…!

Stab…

Muu: Aruji-sama!!!

Muu: W-Wait, what…

I thought I got stabbed, but I didn’t feel any pain.

I lifted my head, and in front of me, I saw Nac.

Nac: Kuh…

Nac: Aruji-sama… Are you alright…?

> Nac…! > Why did you…

Nac: Guh…

Muu: Nac-san, there’s a knife in your back…

Nac: …Oi

Young Man: Hiie!

Nac: Attempting to lay a hand on my Aruji-sama…

Nac: Seems like you’re asking for death.

Young Man: U-UWAAAAA!

Men: R-Run for it!!

Dash…

Nac: Hah… They’ve escaped.

Nac: I intended to capture and hand them over to the guards, but…

Nac: It’ll be difficult with this wound…

Nac: …Urgh… Aruji-sama, are you injured?

Nac: My apologies for letting you experience something so dangerous.

> Worry about yourself first!

Nac: Oh, this?

Nac: No need to worry. I wasn’t stabbed in a vital area.

Muu: I-I’ll get some water and something to stop the bleeding!

Nac: Sorry to trouble you, Muu-kun.

Nac: Hah…

> Are you okay?

Nac: Please don’t make that face.

Nac: You look lovelier, smiling.

Nac: Well, I guess it’s hard to smile in this situation.

Nac: My apologies for scaring you.

Nac: …Urgh…

> You got injured because of me…

Nac: I’m used to getting injured like this.

Nac: My body is littered with scars anyway.

Nac: This is just another one.

Nac: And…

Nac: I’m quite proud of myself right now.

> Proud?

Nac: This body bears many scars, but…

Nac: This is the first one I’ve received from protecting a loved one.

Nac: This wound is nothing to be ashamed of.

Nac: Rather, it’s something I take pride in.

> Even in this situation you’re still so smug

Nac: Fufu. That’s the type of person Nac Stein is.

Nac: I’m truly glad you’re safe.

END

[theladyofshalott1989]

Art Commission by @myokk + a Sneak Peek of Next Week's Chapter of "You Cannot Put a Fire Out" on AO3 and Wattpad

A massive thank you to the amazingly talented @myokk for the beautiful artwork of a scene from next week's chapter of "You Cannot Put a Fire Out," the third long-fic in my "Like Moths to a Flame" series. This perfectly captures how I envision the scene in my head; it's uncanny (in the best way)!

⭐  ⭐ ⭐

Sebastian and Damien are visiting Cornwall, where Sebastian and Anne spent their formative years. They've been bickering, as old married couples are often wont to do. Sebastian is doing his utmost best to hold it together, and perhaps even manage to kiss and make up with his dashing husband. But sometimes, even the best-laid plans can go awry...

Sneak peek excerpt (+ more after the cut):

"Enjoying yourself?" Damien murmured softly into Sebastian's ear as he guided him into a secluded alley, away from prying Muggle eyes. Though the music had dulled to a distant hum, its rhythm still pulsed faintly in the air.

Sebastian offered a noncommittal nod, reluctant to cast a shadow over the moment. With Damien's arms wrapped around him, they swayed in sync with the lingering melody. Perhaps sensing Sebastian's reticence, Damien came to a sudden halt.

“What’s troubling you?” Damien asked.

Damn. 

“It’s nothing.”

"Bash." Damien didn’t break contact, but he leaned back slightly to meet Sebastian's gaze. "I thought we agreed to be honest with each other."

Sebastian heaved a sigh. "It wasn't exactly thrilling to see you dancing with those women."

"Sebastian, I have no interest in women. You're aware of this fact. And I'm married to you."

"I know," Sebastian said darkly. 

Understanding flickered across Damien's features. "This is about Jack, isn't it?"

Sebastian nearly said no, but he surmised that Damien would see through the lie, so he clamped his mouth shut instead, remaining stubbornly silent. 

"It is!" Damien let go of Sebastian and stepped away. "I suspected as much. Your tasteless joke the other week—it wasn't just a joke, was it? You honestly believe I've been unfaithful."

“I’m not sure what to think.” He crossed his arms across his chest.

"I've never been intimate with a woman, Sebastian. How can I possibly convince you otherwise?"

Sebastian let out a breath. "I truly don't know."

[ AO3 Link ] [ Wattpad Link ]

[unclegrumbles]

ULTIMATE DANNY PHANTOM

EMBER McLAIN

Early adolescence is hard. It's hard for kids, it's hard for parents, and it's hard for filmmakers to accurately capture in movies and TV. The pressures of life are piling up. Some kids feel directionless, like everything and nothing lies before them. Others feel trapped on the course of a future designed for them by their parents, reinforced by expectations of culture and tradition. Amber MacClaine was one of countless kids, spanning past, present, and future, who feel lost at this pivotal moment in life.

Amber's anxiety manifested in a fear of being left behind and forgotten by her peers. After high school, some of her friends set their sights on college. Others planned to enter the workforce right away. Some even planned to move to Hollywood to make it big. They all seemed to have their futures figured out, even though they all felt the same pressures and anxieties she did. Instead of opening up, Amber's fear made her lash out at her friends. One by one, they distanced themselves from her. Amber saw this as her fears coming true, unable or unwilling to accept her role in her isolation. Her fear became paranoia. If her friends had all abandoned her, her family would be next, so she started pushing them away as well. The only thing that never left her was her music, and Amber retreated into the records of her favorite artists.

And then the fire happened. Faulty wiring sparked an inferno that razed the MacClaine family home to the ground. Amber hurt herself trying to escape and was trapped in the burning house. She saw her family escape, and she thought she had been left behind. Forgotten by friends, now by family, doomed to die alone. In that moment, Amber's fear erupted in a psychic scream and tore through the dimensional fabric into Zero Space. In that moment, Ember was born.

Ember spent the next several decades traveling Zero Space's ethereal plane and honing her newfound abilities. In this new world, supernatural powers were a dime a dozen. Ember didn't stand out. But if she could find a way back to Earth, her powers would garner fame and recognition beyond her wildest dreams. Getting back to Earth was no easy feat. Naturally occurring tears in the dimensional fabric were rare and appeared seemingly at random. It would be years before Ember found one she could use. Her persistence paid off, and Ember finally returned to Earth in the late 1990s, almost 20 years after starting her afterlife.

Using her strange new powers, Ember assembled a team of media professionals unlike any the American music industry had ever seen. After a carefully cultivated and wildly successful grassroots indie career, Ember McLain entered the mainstream music consciousness with her hit debut single, Remember, in 2003. Her tour through the American Midwest was interrupted by a strange offer from an anonymous benefactor - an all expenses paid detour to Amity Park, and a bonus of several million dollars for her trouble, all up front.

When an offer sounds too good to be true, it usually is. Ember immediately drew the attention of Amity Park's rising ghost protector, Danny Phantom. Despite his youth and inexperience, Ember's antics would trigger a domino effect of mishaps culminating in a devastating battle that nearly saw her killed. Only with the combined efforts of Sam, Tucker, Dash, Kwan, Paulina, Star, Jack and Maddie Fenton, and their unlikely ally, Skulker, was an enraged Berserker Danny Phantom defeated.

Ember accomplished what she wanted all along - nobody would be forgetting the name of the first villainous ghost musician anytime soon. Unfortunately for Ember, she wouldn't be able to enjoy her newfound notoriety. Another occupied Fenton Thermos now sat on a shelf in Danny Phantom's basement.

Powers and Abilities

Fame Empowerment: Ember thrives on fame. When attendees at a concert start chanting her name, her power swells. This psychic energy sustains her in the absence of ectoplasmic energy. She can channel this power into physical strength, into the pyroplastic flame atop her head, or into her other supernatural powers, enhancing and diversifying their potency.

Symphokinesis: To an outside observer looking in, Ember's music is... quite unremarkable. At the beginning of her career, her lyrics were, at best, derivative and, at worst, obvious and devoid of nuance. Her singing was off-key and grating. She could barely play the scales on her guitar and her playing was full of wrong notes and poor technique. But Ember's early career saw astronomical success. In the few short years before her demise at the hands of Danny Phantom, Ember's technical skill as a musician did improve, but she was, by all measures, still quite average. Attempts to cover or replicate her songs were bafflingly terrible and poorly received to such an extent that no artist would even consider covering her music. Even her albums seemed to lack a certain je ne sais quoi. It added to Ember's mystique - you had to see her live to really get it. This was due to Ember's ability to manipulate music itself. No matter how poorly she sang, no matter how badly she played her guitar, no matter how lazy her lyrics were, it would always sound amazing to Ember's fans. Ember's power both changed the auditory frequency of the music she played as well as the mental perception of the music by live attendees. Ember never quite figured out how to transpose this effect through recording technology - Ember's albums never sold very well and many radio stations either played her songs in scarce rotation or outright refused to play them at all.

Siren Song: Ember's ability to manipulate music doesn't end with making it sound good. She can make it sound so good that the music compels its listeners to act in accordance with the lyrics. Ember's hypnotized thralls will do anything she commands them to do. This power doesn't seem to work on other ghosts, and certain frequencies can cancel out the effects of her sonic manipulation.

Pyroplasm: The flaming ponytail on Ember's head is more than just decorative. Ember can control the flame to attack targets at range, surround herself with a flaming shield, or project it into constructs like a ring of fire to trap enemies who can't fly away. In her concerts, Ember uses her ponytail like a special effect to wow her adoring fans. The strength of the pyroplastic fire is directly proportional to the amount of psychic energy Ember has accumulated. If her fans stop chanting her name, and/or if they stop adoring her, it withers and dies.

Guitar: Ember's heavily modified Gibson Explorer is as iconic as her flaming blue hair, pale blue skin, or the little skull faces on the toes of her boots. Ember's power would enable her to excel with any instrument - piano, flute, drums, even the didgeridoo if she so fancied. In interviews, Ember claimed the guitar had sentimental significance. While that may have been true, the real reason was much simpler. In the heat of battle, Ember reveled in wielding her guitar as a battleaxe to great effect.

---

On the day Ember was born, Amber MacClaine almost died. But she didn't. Her father braved the inferno and suffered severe burns pulling her from the building. Amber spent some time in a hospital where she met with a child psychologist. She continued her therapy after making a full recovery, and overcame her fears of being forgotten and abandoned. She repaired her relationships with friends and family and went on to pursue a degree in psychology with a new passion for helping kids struggling the way she did. Amber was a pioneer in music therapy and went on to lead a successful practice in her hometown of Seattle. Amber and Ember coexisted on Earth, though neither was aware of the other's existence. The truth would eventually rock both of their worlds to the core.

[strawberry-daiquiris]

AO3 Wrapped!

nobody tagged me in this hahahah i just wanted to keep a record like i did last year so this is a mash up of a couple of different versions (not figg as i first posted lol)

Works Published: 26 (including 1 anon fic)

Comment Threads: 791

Word Count: 222,139 (took jump right in out of the total because most of it was written/half was published in 2023 but ao3 includes it in the latest updated year for stats)

Top 3 Kudosed Fics:

(again... ignoring jump right in... sort of)

🏆 hard on the brakes

🥈 lay your open hand

🥉 something dumb to do

Top Word Count:

🏆 lay your open hand (51k)

🥈 still reserved for me (35k)

🥉 girls just wanna f1 tumblr fics (15k)

Top Ships:

🏆 landoscar

🥈 🥉 a tie between piastrell and piastrella, as it should be <3

and then some additional questions, cutting this for dash length purposes...

What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?  this one is so hard... last year i had a stand out because jump right in was (and still is) such a huge accomplishment. i guess i'm proud of still reserved for me because it's a continuation of a world i feel so happy in, and even though the readers have dropped off a lot i feel like i'm writing for a group of people who really Get and Love the two of them. it makes me proud to have managed to build something like that!!!

i'm also just proud of the sheer word count... insane... stupid... get a grip.

What work of yours got more feedback than you expected? oh 100% the piastrells... really didn't think anyone else apart from about 4 certified fellow freaks were going to be into them as a pairing, but i've had some lovely, insightful feedback about them and their relationship that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside!!!!

What work was the quickest to write? just like last year i've got a few fics that were one session wonders. sun down and i'm feeling lifted aka help i think i fancy some driver's sisters, this (maybe not so now) anon when i was hit by the Future of F1, the tarkov nortrell and all of the andrea/oscar fics that were basically me working through my sport emotions, lol.

What work took you the longest to write?  i started the gdoc of what became lay your open hand in april and posted it december, but i was only properly working on it from some point in september. still reserved for me took the best part of two months as well. next year i have 3 wips i'd lke to actually finish that could steal the title tbh.

What’s your most common “Additional Tags” tag? rule 63 babyyyyyy!!!! closely followed by age difference and magical realism, which tracks.

Your favourite character to write this year? toss up between oscar and max fewtrell, which explains nicely why the brittle fics are my highlights of 2024.

The character that gave you the most trouble writing this year? lando still stressing me out to this day... i think i am nearly there with the voice (although frightened of over using in case i fall into it sounding forced) but the rapidly changing state of mind on that man... i think i love him so much it's hard to feel like i ever capture him properly, the wriggly little wormy thing.

What’s one pairing you want to explore next year? i think there's a jendo in me bubbling below the surface.

Favourite work you wrote this year? oh i think i have already answered this by going on and on about it, but brittle it shakes, closely followed by something to sink your teeth into and a podium finish for float away like vapour.

ok sorry if you read this because it was LONG... i'm also going to make a few new years resolutions...

i'm going to get better at replying to comments and not feel shame if i go back and respond to ones from a while ago

stop being hard on yourself, stop deciding a fic is rubbish and then hate it/want to delete it, stop holding yourself to DEADLINES... it's not that deep, it's not a job, it's supposed to be FUN

i'm going to read more - i will stop saving fics for 'the best time for them' and start reading them when they come out so that i don't miss my chance.

[spookymystery67]

I Wish I Could Walk In Heels

AN: This chapter is short and sweet. And mainly just filler. I just wanted to get something out for you all while I figure out the RE6 lore lol. I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter 31:

It had been one week since that helicopter ride. Since the mission ended with the Amber in yours and Ada’s possession instead of Wesker's. It was always the plan to keep it away from the man, but after hearing what it was and what he had planned to do with it…. 

Well, the stakes were higher than you both had originally thought and expected.

What Ada had done with it, where she had put it, you didn’t know. And you didn’t want to know. After a long discussion between you both, it was decided that you being clueless would be for the best. She would go off somewhere undisclosed to you to hide the Amber, using whatever trustworthy connections she had to make sure it was actually well hidden from Wesker and anyone else who might want to get their hands on it. You would stay in different hotel rooms that only Ada knew about while she was gone, under your fake names that have changed many times over the years.

Ada was reluctant to leave you alone for the few days it would take for her to hide it, and even more reluctant to not share where she planned to put the Amber. But after much thought, you concluded it was better that you didn’t know. 

If the worst case scenario happened where you get captured by one of your foes, whether that be anybody from Wesker to whatever government you end up pissing off somewhere down the line, then you not knowing the whereabouts might save billions of lives. You weren’t sure you would be able to handle whatever methods of interrogation they would inflict upon you to keep it secret. You liked to think you were strong willed, but you were no Ada Wong. It felt better to play it safe, rather than be sorry down the line.

Only if the worst happened, of course. This was all just precaution.

So there you sat in the hotel room in another part of Spain, going on day four of Ada’s departure. You assumed it would take a while. She must have flown to some other part of the world to be extra safe with the hiding process. Even so, the paranoia and worry building up within you as more and more time passed was getting increasingly difficult to ignore. Annoyingly so.

Frustrated with yourself, you mindlessly decided to pace the spacious room to pass the time, having nothing better to do. Your anxiety refused to settle enough to allow you to read. Or go to sleep for the night. Or really do anything other than worry about Ada. Logically thinking, she should be fine. No, she is fine. She is Ada Wong afterall. The master of thinking quickly on her feet to get herself out of trouble.

Well… she is also the master of getting into trouble.

You groaned loudly at your treacherous mind, knowing full well that thinking like this would not ease your worries. But clearly you couldn’t help yourself.

With your back turned away, you did not hear nor see the door to the room open, with the source of your worries herself quietly entering immediately after. 

“What’s wrong, love?” 

You gasped, or more so squeaked, a choked sound of surprise. The spin you did toward the door was nearly dizzying as you faced the voice head on. Noting it was Ada, with a worried look of her own, you immediately sighed with relief and dashed into her arms with a speed that could probably make a cheetah jealous. 

Ada nearly toppled over with the force, but impressively managed to keep both you and herself upright. She huffed an amused laugh, and worry softened to love and affection. 

“I always enjoy your enthusiasm. Makes me feel loved and wanted.” She teased.

“Always.” You muttered back with a soft laugh. You held her tighter by the waist, burying your face into her neck. “I was getting worried.”

“For me?” You remained silent, which she correctly took as a confirmation to her question. She held you closer to her, if that was even possible, for a more comforting embrace. “Dear, you didn’t need to worry yourself over me. I’m fine.”

“Well, I see that now.” You muttered, slightly embarrassed for working yourself up to what felt like a constant state of anxiety over the last few days.

She pulled away from you just a little, enough so she could bring her hand up to your face and look you in the eye. She smiled reassuringly, “Don’t be embarrassed. I understand. I admit, I was worried about you too. I wanted to get that little errand done and over with as quickly as I could to get back to you. Just to make sure you were still safe.”

“You were only gone for four days.” You told her, eyeing her with minor skepticism.

“Exactly. Would have been longer if I wasn't in a hurry.” She half joked, making you both laugh at how ridiculous you two were for overthinking. There were many plans and precautions in place to prevent any trouble. The nerves were unnecessary, yet inevitable on both parts. 

Eventually, you both pulled apart, sitting down on a small sofa. You pulled your legs up to settle on the cushion, laying your head on Ada’s shoulder as she beckoned you closer. Her arm rested across your shoulders as she rested her own head on yours in a sort of embrace. You sighed, feeling content. 

“Did it go okay?” You questioned, reluctantly breaking the silent and comforting atmosphere that surrounded you.

She nodded, mindlessly caressing your shoulder. “Everything went according to plan with no incidents. In fact, it was very boring compared to other missions.”

“Hmm. Must be because I wasn't there.” You mentioned sarcastically. Every mission you joined had something go wrong in one way or another.  

You felt her laugh against you rather than heard, shoulders and chest shaking slightly as she pulled you to lay on top of her with your head on her chest as she laid back on the small sofa. Two pairs of legs became tangled to each other and dangled over the armrest, but neither of you wanted to stand up and get ready for bed quite yet.

Ada hummed in contemplation. The hand that once caressed your shoulder now caressed the length of your back, up and down in soothing motions that relaxed and soothed you both. “I think you might be onto something. Things only get interesting when you come along.”

“I wouldn’t call it interesting. I'd call it dangerous.”

“Which is what makes it interesting.” Ada countered, amusement clear in her tone.

“I must be a jinx or something if the deadly things only happen in my presence.” 

“Not true. They happen away from you too. I got shot at once or twice while I was gone.” She nonchalantly shrugged. You sat up and shot her a wide eyed glare, appalled. 

“You said nothing happened!”

She laughed and pulled you back down to lay on her, hand resting on the back of your head as she gently squished you to her ample chest. “I said it was boring. I get shot at all the time, dear.” She reminded you.

“You said that there were no incidents.” You corrected with a sigh, relaxing back into the warmth of her comforting embrace after you realized she wasn’t planning on letting you go any time soon. 

Not that you were complaining.

“Hmm, I guess I did.” She admitted, resuming her caress up and down your back. “Sorry. I didn’t really think it was a big deal, seeing as they missed. By a lot actually. They had the aim of a stormtrooper from those Star Wars movies we watched a while back.”

“I would still like to know when someone shoots my girlfriend please.” You declared. “Did anything else life threatening happen on your little vacation?”

“Nope. Not that I could go into the details either way, dear. You're the one who made it clear that you should be kept in the dark for this one.”

You pulled away briefly to look down at her, frown still in place. Partially because of concern. And partially because she was right. “Too late to change my mind?”

“Yup.” Ada smirked as her finger gently tapped your nose. The action was a bit surprising coming from Ada, and you couldn't help but laugh.

“Fine. I guess I'll let it slide. Just know we aren't making a habit of this.” You told her.

“Of cuddling?” Ada asked, genuine confusion at what you meant behind her tired and slow blinking eyes.

“Of secrets involving your wellbeing, Ada.” You sighed fondly, gently running your fingers through her slightly mussed hair. “I think it's time for you to get ready for bed. As gorgeous as you look, you're not sleeping in that dress. And this couch isn't as comfortable as the bed.”

Ada sighed, not wanting to move yet. “Five more minutes?”

You nodded in agreement before resting your head against her once more. “Five more minutes.”

[helloiamadrawer]

A Distraction U-2048 x Red Blood Cell! Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Trigger Warnings: germ attempts r@pe on reader(I gave it him/it pronouns cause in the anime hes a male) (don't worry he gets his later), cursing, 2048 being a bit of a dick when you first meet

a/n: my first cells at work fic ahhhh!! hope you enjoy!!

"Ahhhhh!!! Someone help! Anybody please!"

"Well, well, well lookie what we got here~, a red blood cell. All I had to do was wait til nighttime and now that I captured you, I can finally get what I want!"

The germ that was looming over you was no other than a streptococcus. You knew that pink hued monster ever since you were born in this body but mostly they were dead by the time they came here so you only saw their corpses. However, this one was alive as he already slammed you into a capillary room and now has held you captive. Your whole being was trembling in fear before the germ, your heart quickening with every bated breath as he snatches you up with his spear-like arm, grinning at the sight of you trying to squirm out of his grasp.

"..now, let's get to the point of why I'm here, where's your oxygen and nutrients since I was the one in that box of carbon dioxide? Answer quickly or there will be consequences little one.." the monster demanded in his evil tone.

Quickly, your eyes scan the area try to look around and see what you could hit the thing with in the room but to your misfortune, nothing is in here except boxes and a lit up grid floor. You couldn't lie, that would get you instantly killed. You couldn't kick at him except for the air around you, if only you were at his face level, but it was useless. But you'll be damned if you ain't telling no germ the source of where all the oxygen and nutrients were.

"I..I only had some Co2..w-when I got here.." you stammered. The fuchsia colored being narrowed his yellow eyes at you then lowers you to face him, his sinister smile seeming to fade quickly as he started to grow impatient.

"Well, at least that's the obvious truth, where's the source you get it from in this world?"

If being above him wasn't scary enough, being face to face the deformity of the monster was just horrifying, his height basically dominates you by a couple feet, and his eyes burning into yours in anticipation. "Spit it out dammit! I ain't got all night!" he growled, throwing you against a wall, nearly knocking the wind out of your lungs as you gasp for it back.

"..Never!" you yelled back in sudden defense. Ther's no way you're going out this easily!

You grit your teeth and grunted as you launched both of your feet into the the streptococcus' stomach, kicking the thing with all the strength in your legs. Landing a little harshly , you see that your heavy kick made an impact, seeing the germ holding the lower half of his body and cursing from the pain. Now you could finally escape! A hopeful expression lighting your face, you make a dash for the exit door....

Until you realized the knob has been knocked out of the hole of the door.

Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach as regret creeps to your mind, of course it's not gonna be easy getting out now! Since your first attack did not last long on the germ before you heard a low, sinister chuckle chuckle from behind, slowly, you turned around, the fuchsia monster now towering over you and dangling the lost door handle from above you, his smile grew bigger and fangy as he looked all around pissed now. "Looking for this?, I knew you would try to escape eventually..now then, since you didn't answer my question in time, i'm going to have to punish you, won't that be fun~?" the strep germ snickered. Bracing against the door for impact, you squeeze your eyes shut, in mere seconds you find yourself being slung into the air again but then being smacked across the face as you hear he germ laughing evilly at your helplessness.

Why do you always have to run into trouble like this? Is this how it's going to end for you, getting tortured by a mere germ?

Well at least you tried to defend yourself for the body the best you could..

Why couldn't you be a white blood cell? You could kill this bastard in seconds the first time he caught you!

What form of management doesn't let us red blood cells have one weapon to have on hand if we have to be the ones in peril?!

Suddenly, now you're on the bright floor and you could feel your airway constricting as you watched the pathogen's head limb squeezing around your neck, along with your vision becoming a little hazy.

"Nice..very nice, there's not a better image than suffocating the weak, makes me feel all sorts of things~..not that you would know..or do you?" the pathogen hums in satisfaction, his toothy grin still plastered on his face, leaning closer to admire your defeated state.

What is he going to do to me now? Take my innocence..he wouldn't!

"plea-please..stop, I'll..tell you where it is-" you begged, choking on your words whilst trying to move out from the monster's grip as his extra set of arms pin down your fraile wrists.

"Too late, little red. Fortunately, I'm not gonna take your life..but something more precious than your life if you know what i'm saying.." the germ implies as he licks his lips as if he's found a meal right from under him.

"no....no!..no not that!" you cried, almost gagging to retain air. Tears started to stream down on your face. His head appendage releases from your neck than rests behind his cranium, you can breathe again finally for what seemed like forever.

"But yes.. your virginity is about to be stolen by a genuine streptococcus," he strokes a stray hair out of your face, revealing your frightened expression. You felt your whole body cringe beneath him, "Don't worry, since you're such a pretty girl, i'll be slow at first, yeah?"

You scrunched your brow in disgust, "Fuck you..that's a damn lie. Helllppp!!"

Smack!

The germ strikes you again, the pain stinging on your cheek.

"Who told you to speak, bitch?!" the male germ scolds at you, as he slips his second set of arms to open your legs, his claws lightly lightly scraping the insides of your thighs and then almost sliding into the inside of your shorts . "Screaming won't get you anywhere, so shut your trap or I might scratch your pretty face next time."

Being in this predicament mentally pisses you off cause you can't do anything else except throw your innocence away for none other than a creepy germ. All because you were pretty, sometimes you wish you could die ugly these days!

CRASH!

The door was busted down by a figure in all white, two knives gripped in each hand as he hollered out,

"Stop right there you filthy ger--what the hell?!"

Silence finally fell into the room, the germ and the white blood cell were at a standstill, both staring at each other intently until the streptococcus broke the silence saying,

"Well, this is awkward."

Within seconds, your pathogenic assailant was stabbed in the back and thrown out the room. Instantly, you got up on your feet so you could get a better look at your rescuer. He had white skin,side bangs with a undercut and grey eyes that were fueled by rage as he had the monster under his boot currently smashing his head whilst dismembering it's arms, he was so brutal, violent and...was it weird that you were liking what you were seeing? The bloodshed of it all? Although, the because the damned creep deserved it after all.

"You wanna prey on red blood cells just fro your own pleasure, huh? Well not when i'm here, scum! DIE!!" he screams as he plunges a knife into the streptococcus' throat as blood sprayed in all directions splattering all over parts of his uniform and almost splashing on you in the process. The neutrophil speaks something into his receiver. You then come out of the entrance of the room sweeping off your disheveled clothes as you approach the dead corpse, poking it with your red shoe. Thank the stars the white blood cell made it in time before the germ could inseminate you, you would be sent to the spleen for sure!

"Hey, are you okay?..That germ looked like it was-"

"Yeah, thank you for saving me Mr...?"

"U-2048 at your service." The neutrophil introduced himself, tipping his hat with a wink.

Whoa, it's like he switched sides!

"Right. So...do those kinds of germs act like that?..'cause why did it want my...virginity?" you ask 2048, shuddering at your own question.

"No idea, usually they don't really get that desperate.." he glowers at the germ's dead body and tears off the head appendage, "sounds grotesque form what I've seen now...wanna break it? I can sense your anger oozing from you." You back up an inch as you raise an eyebrow in suspicion.

What's he planning? You scoffed,

"And what're you? A white blood cell who's side job could be a guru?-"

"Guess that's a no~" 2048 shrugs, slinging the appendage over his shoulder, smirking to himself as he turns away to head off in his own direction. What's this guy's deal? First he was all violent and bloodthirsty and now he's all..cocky and thinks you can't handle a little blood? "Hey! 2048 ain't it?" you begin to follow up to him, it's not usual for you to run up on someone to prove a point. But for once in your lifetime you can prove a higher up your actual strength! By the time you were about to touch his shoulder, the appendage comes flying at you, your hands catch it before it could scathe your face as you crash on the ground butt first, damn how is that thing so heavy??

"Oops. Sorry, ma'am I thought you were walking the other way than towards me~here let me help you." the neutrophil teases as he chuckles at your attempt to lift it off yourself. His arms wrap from under your legs and the back of your head , holding you bridal style. If steam could exhale out of your ears and nose cause you were getting so pissed, it could. "Mr. 2048..I don't think this is necessary, I only wanted the germs' limb off of me!" you exclaimed, your face turning red from how close you were to brushing 2048's side bangs touching your cheek, no to mention the blood on his outfit looked strangely enticing to you, it's a great contrast to the white-oh no! no way you think this asshole is attractive! He's a neutrophil for god's sake, you're supposed to be attracted to your own kind!

2048 laughs, "Ooh, never heard that name for me in a while, maybe if you could ask more nicely maybe I can put you down and walk with 'ya where you need to go, yeah? Unless you want to be another pathogen's cocksleeve.." he coaxes with his smooth tone of voice.

Oh my God, he's so blunt and straightforward!

"No, no, no!" you panicked as you then huffed out a sigh, "Can you please put me down..."

"Hmmm?"

"..Mr. 2048?" you sighed begrudgingly.

"Alright, down you go." 2048 smiled as he put you down back on your feet, "So where to?" he asks as he drapes the organ over his shoulders again.

"Well, let's see I was carrying some carbon dioxide but since that's gone, I'll just have to do the next delivery which is nutrients from the small intestine." you explained, pulling out a delivery slip out of your mini jacket pocket and showing it to him.

"Well ain't that something, I'm actually heading there myself for patrols, huh, it's like the universe is telling me something.." 2048 jokes as he shoots a mischievous smile at you.

"Really?" you groan at his feeble attempt at throwing your words right back at you.

2048 turns on heel as he happily comments, "hey, you said I could be a guru, why start now?"

"I meant it as a-- nevermind, let's get going, the nutrients aren't gonna deliver themselves." You start to counter but you give up as you gained up to join the neutrophil further down the hall.

-------------

A couple minutes later as you were close to the small intestine, suddenly you two went from being a little awkward silence to laughing your heads off about something you said about your kind having some sort of defense weapon and turned into a joke thus making 2048 almost breathless with your humor.

"Oh my god!...You are such a riot! That B Cell mace joke was so priceless but it's so true!" the white blood cell cackled, not really caring if he has woken up a whole community of cells trying to sleep.

"Haha! Right? I mean once you use it, there is no use cause the bonehead has to make another type." you add with a snicker, cracking him up even more. Hearing a neutrophil laugh like this is a rare occurrence, even more rare when it was you who was making him laugh. Sure, maybe he was annoying at first, but now that you got to know more about him along the way, he doesn't seem so bad..well aside from his bloodthirsty side at work.

It made you smile, but deep down you wanted to slap yourself for having a soft spot for white blood cells. If other cells could just think of them differently aside from being insane and crazy for killing, maybe they wouldn't get the wrong idea about them. Eventually, you both calmed down by sitting down on a bench and sipping on tea that 2048 offered you. Never in your life cycle you imagined chilling with an immune cell even for a minute, it felt nice doing something different for once.

"Are you seriously going to wear that thing like a piece of clothing?" you curiously asked as you point to the germ's limb that's been draped around 2048's neck like a boa now. "I know, doesn't it look great on me?" he stands up and strikes a fashionable pose, causing you to snort over his silliness, "Stop it, you already killed me once."

"Okay, alright, no more..anyway, we're at our stop, safely protected by yours truly." he proudly states, unraveling the limb off his body followed by, "So, you want to break this piece of the creep for me? Please?"

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, you actually forgot all about that damned pathogen that tried to...do things to you and ever since 2048 crossed your path, he was such a cute but arrogant bastard that it was nearly like a diversion...to reverse tat icky feeling inside of you.

If that's what he's trying to d, you'd be damned if you said he didn't succeed in it.

"Not being rude or anything but can't you cut it in half yoursel--nevermind." you hold out your arms as you grab the appendage and stretch it with all your might, it breaks easily with only a little blood pouring out of both ends of it. You give the pieces back to 2048, a little awestruck from your strength but thanks you anyway.

"Well, I should get going on this order, thanks for saving me 2048 I really could have been another germ's..uh.."

"Pleasure slave?" the neutrophil fills in.

"yeah..that."

"No problem, see ya then." the white blood cell wave to you as he walks to the closest migration tube which was a laundry chute but just when he was about to launch himself down, a feeling nagged at him one last devious idea sparks in his head.

He wanted to see you blush like a idiot one more time, for the road.

"Hey! Y'know, that pathogen was right about one thing!" 2048 hollers, you turn your head to him as you yell, "Oh, really? What's that!?"

Little did you know, this neutrophil says the unthinkable..

"You are pretty hot." He slyly flirts with a smirk, his half lidded eyes not prying form you for a second to see how you react. As that said second passed by, you were red in the face like your uniform and running back to snatch him, maybe throttle him in the process. To hell with getting wrote up!

That's all the reaction he needed before he took his cue and launched himself down the chute, laughing as he did so. Grunting, you threw your cap down in frustration before putting it back on momentarily. How dare he be so bold like that! In the public that is!

"Grr..stupid neutrophil..thinks he's hot stuff..dumbass." you grumble as you stomp off, the blush still burning on your face from the image of 2048's smirk invading your head once more.

Yep, he was a distraction alright..