#a life that’s full of disappointments trauma
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wavesoutbeingtossed · 11 months ago
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o-i-w-u · 5 months ago
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i feel like we've lost the whole eclipse coming back different and wrong thing here. like yeah hes the same guy but also.... not really? his memories aren't his, he is not that eclipse anymore, and he never was really
iirc a lot of eclipse's redemption arc was about the fact that he wasn't really the eclipse that did all of those awful things, he was just based off of him. like yeah hes still an awful person and he sucks but they're not really the same awful person that did all those horrible things to you.
he acts like he lived through those things and its his fault, but he... didn't and its not??? i dunno man it feels like we're back tracking here and not in a good way
(more ramble silly stuff in tags wowie)
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takano is such a depressing character... stan x
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dollyyun · 1 month ago
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DEVIL'S NIGHT [PART 1] ✧ DEVIL'S KNIGHTS' PREY (EN-)
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PAIRING ✧ enha hyung line x fem!reader GENRE ✧ 18+(mdni), reverse harem, eventual poly, romance, morally grey characters, semi-college au, eventual adulthood, dark themes, strangers/friends to lovers, obsessive male leads (borderline psychos but we love them) WARNING ✧ religious themes, good girl!fem reader, tensions, angsts, toxicity, explicit themes, alcohol and substance consumptions, assault, profanities, corruption, perversion, coercion, usage of weapons, violence, blood, graphic descriptions, traumas, dramas, miscommunication, gore-ish content, mentions of deaths, poor execution in general WORD COUNT✧ 39.9K
SYNOPSIS ✧ As you are in your last year of university, you feel inclined to make a change for once in your life, and so you decide to take a big leap in part of your development by attending the renowned Halloween party that happens every year, which is hosted by the corrupted fraternity of Devil's Knights. Having no real knowledge about what sort of activities would happen behind closed doors, you remain blissfully ignorant of the danger that awaits you once the witching hour commences that may turn out to cause a major change in the trajectory of your life.
NEXT (PART 2) ✘ SERIES MASTERLIST ✘
-smut warnings under cut-
smut warnings: unprotected sex (no!), dom!enha, brief voyeurism, name calling, making out, degradation, manhandling, fingering, spitting, dry humping, clit play, choking, spanking, creampies, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, gangbang, dubcon-ish, uses knife on skin.
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The tranquillity that once cascaded in every part of the campus building is tainted by an unpleasant, riotous commotion from the collective group of delinquents that are otherwise known as Devil’s Knights, and yet none of the professors or even the head of faculty steps forward to make any form of reproach towards their delinquency, closing both eyes and moving about their day normally, because they know better than to disrupt the momentous pre-celebratory of an upcoming festivity, even more so when they lack the power to possess such authority when it comes to any devil’s knights, most especially their leaders.
He is the living proof in the present time of being highly privileged to be entirely free from their clutches as he struts along the buzzing campus corridor with a cigarette stick caged between his teeth. No one dares to glance in his way wrongly, not when his dark, steely eyes that look as sharp as his jawline are enough to make them recoil while the sight of his full-arm tattoo evokes both admiration and intimidation from the crowd.
His ears perk up at the not-so-subtle mention of his name, shifting his attention to a group of seniors huddling a few meters away from him. The moment they accidentally land their gaze on him, they direct their focus elsewhere and change the topic promptly. A smirk touches his lips, revelling in the power he holds over others, even with his mere silence. He continues to make his way to the intended destination, blocking out the commotion from his focus.
“You didn’t bother to invite me to join you? That’s a first from you, Park Jongseong.” His best friend’s voice, which carries a familiar sarcasm, has him sighing out lowly as he reluctantly comes to a stop before turning his head to meet a pair of icily cold eyes that are capable of daunting anyone except a few people. The taller male is leaning against a massive pillar, and his composure looks unusually relaxed with both hands tucked in the pockets of his jacket. ��And here I thought we were smoking buddies, Jay. How disappointing.” His sentiment doesn’t match in the way he casts him an amused smirk.
Jay doesn’t resist the urge to roll his eyes at his best friend’s theatrics, but nevertheless he gravitates towards him as he frees the cigarette stick from the cage of his teeth, now being held in between his fingers. “Spare me your sarcasm, Park Sunghoon.” He grumbles under his breath, but with a head tilt of an invitation, Sunghoon moves off the pillar and proceeds to walk side by side with Jay as they head straight for the campus plaza. “I’m surprised Jake isn’t with you as usual.”
“I haven't seen him all day, not that it bothers me.” Sunghoon says with an unmistakable air of nonchalance while taking a cigarette stick that is generously offered by Jay, but even the latter can see through him how Jake’s sudden detachment for a day has been affecting him. “He’s probably having the time of the month, you know, the usual?”
Jay chuckles dryly as he immediately understands the implication in his statement, knowing all too well that the last time it happened was a year ago, resulting in a nasty confrontation. “Let’s just hope he’s fucking around some girl. I don’t want the same shit to happen again. Fucking Sim Jaeyun—"
“I knew my ears were burning for a reason— you were talking shit about me!” The two Parks release exasperated sighs, not bothering to face the mischievous male when he inserts himself in between them, following them to their spot. They take a quick glance at Jake, raising their eyebrow at the familiar flyer in his grasp. “Look at this. It looks like total shit! I didn’t even approve this design!” Jake exclaims, his face twisting into a scowl as he examines the overall design on the flyer, his eyes drilling holes into it. “Not only can I not trust my best friends to not talk shit about me, but I can’t even trust the design team?”
“What are you talking about? It looks perfect the way it is.” Sunghoon retorts as he snatches the flyer from Jake’s grasp to examine briefly, seeing no flaws in it. He meets Jake’s disbelieving eyes and smirks at him. “Besides, it was approved by me and Jay.”
“It doesn’t matter whether or not the design is flawed. People are already buzzing about it; that’s what matters.” Jay adds before Jake can counter, separating himself from them to move under the shade of a tree with Sunghoon doing the same as he offers Jay a lighter to light up their cigarette stick. “We can expect a full house in three days' time. The more people to hunt, the better.”
Jake grimaces, eyeing his best friends disapprovingly as they proceed to inhale the tobacco before blowing out grey smokes that nearly hit his face, and yet he remains rooted to the ground, standing in their view. “Fine, but I still prefer last year’s design.” He says as he crosses his arms over his chest. “I hope we can also expect something new this year. I mean, you guys have to admit that the past three years have been quite a bore.”
“Agreed.” A familiar voice startles them, drawing their attention to the stealthy male emerging from behind the tree. Jay automatically offers him an opened box that is filled with cigarette sticks, but the latter silently declines it with his hand gesture. “I know what you meant, Jake. Maybe we will finally find our first and official prey this year.”
“You scared the shit out of us, Heeseung. Where the hell did you come from?” Sunghoon asks in disbelief, raising his eyebrow as he watches the aforementioned male lean his back against the tree trunk leisurely with both hands tucked in the pockets of his hoodie.
Heeseung doesn’t respond to his question and instead directs his attention ahead of him; his dark eyes hold masses of mystery that not even his best friends can decipher, while his silence speaks volumes that evoke uncertainty, prompting them to exchange looks.
“You okay?” Jay asks gruffly, taking the initiative to find out what is on his complex mind, and this is not to say that the three of them fear Heeseung and his unpredictability, but out of the four of them, Heeseung bears the most complex qualities.
“Just waiting.” Heeseung simply says, his tone sounding neutral and matching in the way his demeanour appears relaxed, but as they study him for another time, they have a strong inkling as to what his short statement pertains.
“Waiting for who?” Sunghoon tries to sound as disinterested as he can, wanting to know what or who has managed to pique the most reserved and mysterious Lee Heeseung.
The corner of Heeseung’s lips curves into a smirk while his focus ahead never goes astray, and this amplifies their curiosity. “Someone.”
Despite being dissatisfied with his answer, they choose to drop the topic, both Parks proceeding to take drags of the intoxicating substance while Jake continues on where he left off to express his distaste of the flyer’s design to them, even yapping off to Heeseung in spite of his silence, whereas Jay and Sunghoon roll their eyes from time to time.
Eventually, their conversation goes from one topic to another, but their attention is collectively focused on the view in their line of sight, where their respective devil’s house members have now invaded the campus main plaza, either giving out the flyers to the students strolling out and about or throwing the flyers in a haphazard manner that is essentially littering the plaza while also causing a ruckus, but neither of the knights bothers to correct the error of their ways.
Heeseung’s demeanour, which once displayed such impassiveness, shifts into something rather delightful as a soft smirk touches his lips while the burning intensity in his eyes as though something has highly piqued his interest, grabbing Jake’s attention, whereas the conversation between Sunghoon and Jay carries on.
When Jake finally directs his focus at what, or rather who, has completely entranced Heeseung, that is when he sees a familiar figure with a darling face that gives him the weird fluttery sensation in him all over again. Similar to Heeseung, Jake finds himself captivated by the mere sight of the familiar girl in a rather modest yet cute attire as well, standing out for the very specific reason of her being the only girl on campus famously known for her purity. 
Heeseung remains eerily silent without their knowledge, his eyes studying you with a glinting dark fascination that overshadows the obsession, watching your every movement. In spite of your tote bag that is laden with your laptop and other materials, it doesn��t deter you in the way you seem to be rushing to somewhere else, trying your best to avoid bumping into other students, specifically the devil’s knights that are wearing the same designed masks for this occasion.
Jake frowns the instant one of the devil's knights practically chucks a handful of flyers at your face while chortling alongside another knight. “What the fuck?” He curses under his breath, drawing Jay’s attention to him, whereas Sunghoon has been noticing Jake’s unusual silence since the moment you captured his attention.
Jake feels a simmering anger within him, wanting nothing more than to defend you by teaching and instilling some manners in those knights who disrespected you. Just as he is prepared to march over to them to drag them away from you, Sunghoon prevents him from moving out of the shade as he uses his frame to block his way.
“Don’t do anything dumb, Jake.” Sunghoon advises, well, to Jake, it sounds more like a warning, while Jay quickly grasps and understands the situation that involves you, but he simply does not give a fuck as he looks away from you, resuming to inhale the last of his burning cigarette stick. 
“I can’t just stand by and let them disrespect her like that!” Jake argues back, his jaw clenching the same way he clenches his fist as he attempts to subdue his anger. He tries to move past Sunghoon, but the latter is swift enough to block his way again, eliciting another curse from him. “If you don’t get out of the way in five seconds—”
“Are you really going to fight me on this? Over Y/N Kang? Really, Jake?” Sunghoon remains collected, but there is no mistaking his icy-cold demeanour that is parallel to Jake’s blazing fury. “What does it matter to you if her feelings get hurt? Don’t tell me you’ve developed some soft spot for her.” Disgust is written all over Sunghoon’s face.
Heeseung blocks out the ongoing dispute between Sunghoon and Jake, being hyper-fixated on you as he watches you shooting glares at the two brash knights walking away from you before you direct your attention to the one of the flyers that you managed to grasp in your possession. The smirk on his lips widens, finding you adorable in the way your lips form into a small pout with visible confusion contorting in your pretty face as you seem to scan the content in the flyer with confused eyes.
Meanwhile, you are completely oblivious to your surroundings as the flyer in your hand eventually manages to pique your curiosity, but upon grasping the content, your lips downturn into a frown, especially as soon as you recognise their infamous symbol on the top margin. Right, in three days time, the long-awaited yet annual festivity will arrive and spread terror, but you have no knowledge of what the terror exactly entails, not that you were the slightest bit interested to know.
But this time, however, you feel something shift within you, almost as if some part of you is nudging at you to embrace a new change and that it’s about time to venture out of your comfort zone. Too deep in your rumination, you fail to hear your name being called until an arm is thrown around your shoulder, startling you and drawing your attention to your roommate, who also happens to be your best friend.
“What goes on in your pretty head to the point you’re standing impressively still?” Karina asks with a teasing grin plastered on her pink lips, her familiar sweet perfume hitting you in the nostril.
“Babe, is that Devil’s Night flyer you’re holding?” Another familiar voice pulls your attention away from Karina as you look to your left, only to notice two of your roommates, slash, your best friends as well. Yunjin and Wonyoung.
The Devil’s Night flyer that you are still holding elicits different reactions from them — Karina and Yunjin seem to share the same sentiment, whereas Wonyoung lacks the control over her features, clearly expressing her disapproval at your potential attendance at the event, albeit you have yet to say anything about it.
“Relax, girls. I never said anything about going. I was just reading the flyer.” You tell them with a light chuckle, but you notice the sigh of relief that leaves Wonyoung's lips, evoking something unpleasantly sour in your chest, because why is your best friend against you attending a mere Halloween festivity?
“That’s disappointing to hear. We thought that you were finally deciding to move out of your comfort zone and, you know, not be boring for once.” Karina expresses with a pout on her lips, oblivious to the fact that her last few words bring a frown to your face. You know that Karina has no ill intent towards you, and there are some truths in it, but it never fails to sting you in the chest.
“We’re all planning to go, by the way,” Yunjin speaks up after noticing how briefly disheartened you look. You meet her kind eyes as she gives you an encouraging smile. “You can join us if you want. I promise it’ll be fun.”
“Yes! You should come with us!” Karina remains enthusiastic, encouraging you the same, and just like that her previous remark is forgotten from your mind, finding yourself being infected by her excitement, practically buzzing. “Trust it’ll be way fun, especially since it’s your first time, and—”
“I hate to ruin the moment, but I don’t really think it’s a good idea for our girl to come along.” Wonyoung cuts her off sharply, her tone indicating no room for argument. “I know you want our girl to step out of her comfort zone, but I wouldn’t want to risk anything happening to her.”
“Come on, Wony! I didn’t expect you to be the one to suck out the fun!” Karina complains, even pleading with the taller girl with puppy eyes, the most adorable she can muster, but it has no effect on the latter.
“It’s our last year in uni as seniors, Wonyoung. Surely, you wouldn’t want our girl to miss out on all of the fun.” Yunjin, always being the one who does the reasoning all the time, tries her utmost to persuade Wonyoung. “Nothing will happen to her. We’re all going to be there to look out for her too, yeah? The more eyes, the better.”
Seeing how Wonyoung’s resolution wavers, Karina beams with a smile as she draws her attention. “Since we’re on our way to shop for the remaining of our costumes, we should shop for Y/N’s as well! Besides, it’ll be her first ever Halloween, so we need to make her look drop-dead gorgeous.”
In all honesty, you hate how they are talking about you in front of you, albeit they mean well, but this happens almost all the time. It is as though they are treating you as if you are incapable of making a decision of your own at your grown age. But you decide to shrug it off, knowing that even if you voice it, they won’t be deterred.
As they continue to converse among themselves, you feel a sudden chill throughout your body, causing the back of your hair to rise, and that is when you feel as though you are being watched, prompting you to find the source until your eyes immediately lock with a pair of dark eyes. Instantly, you feel familiarly daunted as you freeze while your best friends remain oblivious to you.
Even though his highly attractive best friends are under the same shade of tree as him, you can only focus on him, your heart pumping wildly as you see the devilish curl on his lips, which the bottom lip is adorned by a silver ring. Yet, for some reason, you feel entirely drawn to him, completely enthralled by the unknown and danger he emits, even from afar. 
His dark eyes penetrate into yours heatedly, making you feel like he is reading your every thought, before he briefly looks down at the flyer in your grasp, and somehow, the moment he returns his gaze to yours with a suggestive yet oh-so-inviting smirk on his lips, you have a strong inkling that Lee Heeseung wants you to come to the Devil’s Night Halloween festivity.
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As you stand in front of the full-length mirror, your own reflection stares at you with an abundant clarity of irresolution, mirroring the inner turmoil within you. Your eyes begin to scan your appearance from head to toe with sheer incredulity. Never in your twenty-one years of life have you ever dressed as provocatively as you are now. Heck, you don’t even recognise yourself.
The white cami bodycon corset dress adorning your body feels uncomfortably tight, but it accentuates your curves impeccably and has a designated contrast lace bustier that levitates your breasts and displays your cleavage, while a portion of your torso is conspicuously visible through the translucent material. The length of the dress reaches so far above your thighs that when you attempt to bend down ninety degrees, your white lace underwear peeks under. To you, though, the main highlight of your outfit is the white thigh-high stockings that complement your white-booted heels. 
You're not the type to critique people for how they choose to dress, and you have nothing against people who wear revealing clothes, but you wonder how other women wear them without feeling the slightest bit uncomfortable just as you are now. You hate to say it, but you practically look like a slut. 
Your nose automatically scrunches up at the licentious thought before silently berating yourself for the stereotype. This is definitely not what you had in mind when your best friends decided to drag you with them and buy you a ‘costume’ that fit the theme that they had chosen for you — an angel. It is definitely ironic how the theme they chose for you supposedly requires you to dress decently.
When your gaze finally settles on the silver cross pendant that rests delicately on your chest, guilt coils in your stomach, and your moment of prior incertitude manages to render you completely disheartened while your eyes turn crestfallen.
What were you thinking? You’re supposed to live up to the code as expected of you, including avoiding dressing indecently and acting with grace. But here you are, all dolled up with excessive skin revealing, and yet you still refuse to recognise that the person staring back at you is indeed you. 
If your parents were here to see you now, they would have chastised and disowned you, especially for dressing the way you are now. You shudder lightly at the thought.
Your parents, particularly your mother, are quite religious and strictly abide by the rules and codes of your religion. However, your parents’ love and devotion to the religion were something you truly adored. Growing up, your parents often brought you to the church along with them, and you recall getting so excited just at the mere sight of the familiar divine building situated in your neighbouring area that you even rushed to greet the pastor eagerly. Every member of the church recognised you, and they would always warmly welcome you and your family, especially since your parents were regulars.
You were loved by them, by everyone. As a matter of fact, you’ve been called ‘little angel’ by them because of your kind and sweet disposition, how helpful you were whenever someone asked you for assistance, how obedient you were whenever you were told to do something, how demure in the way you acted, and how you resonated with people by being naturally sympathetic you were.
Everyone used to tell your parents how truly blessed they were to have you as their daughter. Your parents agreed and often thanked the Lord for blessing them with a daughter like you. Not only did you follow your parents’ example in your religion, but you had also been bestowed with the gift of being naturally smart since you were young until now. 
However, as you take in your appearance once more, your coiling guilt becomes tenfold while disappointment creeps up on you. How dare you have the audacity to wear the cross necklace your father bought for you when you are dressed like this?
You shake your head, taking a step back from the full-length mirror. This is not you, but you know that it’s too late to back out now. Plus, you were the one who voluntarily agreed and made a definitive decision to join your best friends for the Halloween festivity that will happen tonight. Initially, your intention was to finally move out of your comfort zone, but who were you kidding? A part of you has always wanted to prove your friends’ collective view of you wrong and that you could be fun when you want to.
But then again, you can’t recall the last time you ever had fun, or maybe you hadn’t, and that probably says a lot about you in the eyes of your friends. Well, at least you aren’t completely clueless about what a college party entails, considering you have seen firsthand what happened to your roommates right after they came back from parties or even clubs, and it certainly wasn’t anything pleasant. Nevertheless, you offered to help them by assisting in holding up their hair while they retched in the toilet bowl and getting them to bed, despite the grimace on your face.
Knocks on the door pull you out of your rumination, sharpening your focus in the mirror before your eyes trail to a familiar face from behind, who is leaning against the doorframe sideways with her arms crossed. Your eyes beam in appreciation at her beauty. The way she does her make-up accentuates her features, and she looks absolutely striking with her overall fit, which she chose to dress up as a cowgirl.
“Hey, Jen.” You greet her, trying your best to sound as enthusiastic as the way you beam at her, but the smile on your lips eventually wavers, giving away your irresolution.
Yunjin, who is rarely ever enthusiastic, offers you a wide smile that displays her pearly teeth. “Hey, gorgeous. Are you ready to go?” She asks, her eyes scanning your face, noticing how delicate your countenance appears.
Usually, you would reciprocate her energy, but this time, with the doubts lingering in your head, you cave into your withdrawals. “Honestly? No. I don’t know if it’s right for me to go.” You murmur, your eyes lowering, and Yunjin’s smile falters as soon as you reveal your true mask. You fiddle with your fingers. “I mean, I really am looking forward to the event,” You wince internally, unable to say the word ‘Devil’s’ verbally. “Never mind, I’m just overthinking things as usual.”
You don’t lift your head up, even as you hear her footsteps approaching from behind. You feel her warm hands on your bare shoulders, turning you around and tilting your chin up with her fingers. Your eyes reluctantly meet her hazel-hued ones that are blazing with firm resolution.
“I know that deep inside of you, you actually feel doubtful about this, but trust me when I say that just because you’re attending a party and dressing up like this, gorgeously at that, it does not make you unworthy or any lesser in the eyes of our religion.” Her voice comes out strong yet tinged with gentleness, which you can’t help but acquiesce to. Your heart swells with a familiar sentiment. Your best friend really knows you better than yourself sometimes.
Hun Yunjin, otherwise known as Jennifer, has been your childhood best friend, albeit not enrolled in the same elementary and high schools, and she is currently majoring in international business. You met her when you first started to attend Sunday services at your neighbouring church. You recall sitting next to her and randomly engaging in a conversation with her, despite the fact that you two were not supposed to drift off to your own mini-world. You thought you would never see her again, but the next Sunday service proved you wrong. From there, you and Yunjin formed a newfound friendship, and you declared that she was your church buddy. That remained constant until the two of you hit fifteen, and you didn’t see her as regularly as before.
Just like that, you lost contact with her. Subsequently, you began to wonder what went wrong and questioned your friendship with her, which you cherished dearly. Not many years later, when you first stepped foot in this university, you met Yunjin again, and miraculously, she turned out to be one of your assigned roommates. You assumed that she would not recognise you or even brush you off coldly given her aloof demeanour, but you were overjoyed when she recognised you and immediately welcomed you with a bear-hug while telling you how much she had missed you. The thought of asking her what truly happened years ago did cross your mind, but for some reason, you were afraid and apprehensive of the outcome, noticing how she would tense up whenever you brought up any topic regarding family, and most importantly, you didn’t want to lose her again. So you chose to play it safe. But what matters most is that you have reunited with her.
In return, you muster a faint smile on your glossed lips. “You always have a way with words, Yunjun.” You compliment her before releasing a soft sigh and holding your head up high. “Fine, I’m ready.”
Yunjin’s firm exterior cracks, and her matted-red lips curl into a grin. “That’s my girl.”
“Girls! Are we ready to go─” A gasp pulls you away from Yunjin’s eyes, and when you look at the familiar figure standing by the doorway to your room, you become in awe of how seductively alluring she looks with her theme, dressed up as a catwoman. 
“You look amazing, Rina.” You compliment her earnestly. Genuinely, she knocks the breath out of you, and despite being roommates for three and a half years, her striking beauty often makes you question yourself about whether or not she is indeed real.
Truth be told, you didn’t get along with Yu Jimin, otherwise known as Karina, in the first few semesters of your freshman year. As she’s a fashion design major, it was inevitable that such a heap of mess was expected from her, and you hoped that she would be considerate, but you didn’t expect for her mess to scatter into the shared living room. Out of the four of you, you’re particular about cleanliness, so you disapproved of your roommate being blatantly inconsiderate, especially when you and your other roommates have had to clean up her mess every so often. You recall when Karina overheard you delivering complaints to your other two roommates, and she confronted you on the spot. From then on, she began nitpicking you, resulting in many petty disputes with her. You felt more annoyed than upset whenever she pointed out the fact that you were plain and boring. You swore you thought that you would never get along with her until two years ago, in your sophomore year, you found her alone in the living room at three in the morning as she was drinking two bottles of soju to her heart’s content with tears streaming down her cheeks and her eyes were puffy.
You wanted to mind your own business as usual, but it didn’t sit right with you to leave your roommate alone to reel in despair, so you cautiously approached her, as if you were afraid that she would lash out at you, but surprisingly, she confided in you. That was when you got to know that she had been cheated on by her boyfriend. You listened attentively to her, and even offered comforting words to her, to which she thanked you by giving you a hug before falling asleep on you. Of course, you had tucked her in to sleep on the couch with a pillow for her head to rest on and a blanket to give her body some warmth. You thought that Karina would return to her usual self when the next day arrived, but she took you by surprise once more when she started to become amiable towards you. From then on, you two developed a sense of camaraderie before it blossomed into a newfound friendship.
“Says you! You look drop-dead gorgeous!” Karina exclaims, her red lips outstretched into a wide smile while you detect sincerity in her tone. Her sharp eyes scan you for another time before the corner of her red lips curves upward with pride. “See? I knew that this dress would look gorgeous on you! Plus, your body is to die for!”
“I agree.” Yunjin chimes, casting you a smirk while your cheeks warm from their fond gazes on you. “It looks like our girl will be receiving many head turns tonight. I would have hit you up long ago if I swung for the same team.”
Before you can say anything, another voice joins in the conversation. “Okay, look, I know I agreed for Y/N to join us after much persuasion, but after some thought about it again, I’m taking my words back. There’s no way I’m letting her go with us.”
Your eyes shift from Karina to the tall, raven-haired beauty next to her. Once again, you are captivated by her mesmerising beauty and how truly stunning her overall fit is, in which her theme is a mermaid, and you are not exaggerating when you say that she looks like a literal mermaid goddess. 
Yunjin heaves a sigh, her hazel eyes flashing annoyance. “We’ve talked about this, Vick. Nothing is going to happen to our girl. Don’t ruin this for her.” You hold your breath, feeling the tension mounted between the two glaring girls. You know that Yunjin means serious business whenever she calls Wonyoung by her English name.
Jang Wonyoung, otherwise known as Vicky Jang, is one of the university’s it girls with your best friends being in the same league, and she is also the girl whom you can call your soul sister. You recall the first time you met her when she opened the door to your shared dorm, and you were instantly captivated by her doll-like beauty and were so stunned that you even stammered your words when you reciprocated her warm greeting. Wonyoung is in the same major as you, journalism, and perhaps it also has to do with the fact that you got along well with her in just a few days prior to your first meeting in your freshman year. Despite how peculiar you managed to form a bond with her, you were grateful to have found a friend like her.
Although you are close with Yunjin and Karina, you feel more comfortable and at ease with Wonyoung, even when you are wrapped in silence. The two of you understand each other, even without words. You feel as though the both of you are kindred spirits; whenever you feel down, it affects her just the same, and you two often share your victories together without harbouring any hidden jealousy or ill feelings. There is this special connection you have to Wonyoung that is indescribable. Even your other friends often joke that the two of you are long-lost twin sisters.
Wonyoung’s eyes flicker to yours fleetingly, but it is enough for her to reaffirm her prior intuition before she returns her gaze to Karina and Yunjin, specifically to the cowgirl. “I just have a bad feeling about Y/N going, okay? You guys do know that my intuition has never failed me.” She tells them firmly. “I’m just being a good friend to Y/N and trying to look out for her.”
Yunjin scoffs loudly, her tongue hitting the roof of her mouth with a click of annoyance. “Are you also implying that we’re being bad friends to Y/N just because we want her to join us and have fun? You’re unbelievable, Vick!”
Wonyoung remains calmly collected, but there is no mistaking the irritation in the twitch of her eye. “I never said that, and I don’t want to argue with you, Jen. Just think rationally; attending Devil’s Night is not something we should take lightly. You and I both know that a person’s life will never be the same after the experience, if they even manage to survive the night.”
“Survive the night? What does that mean?” You butt in, both curiosity and incredulity evident in the cadence of your voice, but they simply ignore you, or maybe they are too busy communicating by still continuing the glaring contest, neither of them backing down.
“We’re wasting time here, girls.” Karina speaks up quietly, her eyes darting between them cautiously before settling on Wonyoung. “As much as I love that you’re being the overprotective mom of our group, just please don’t ruin this for us, especially since it’s Y/N’s first Devil’s Night, so we would want her to have a memorable experience, right? We promised that we won’t let anything happen to her, so have faith in us.”
“Yeah, have faith in us, Wony.” Yunjin emphasises with vehemence of mockery lacing her tone. “Besides, how long are you going to shelter Y/N as if she’s some helpless damsel and not a grown woman like us?”
You clench your fist, hating how your best friends are arguing because of you once more, but this time, you manage to find your voice to speak up. “I’m not in the slightest bit scared about attending Devil’s Night,” You pause briefly, internally wincing after having to say the word. “And I’ve always wanted to attend a party with you girls, so can we please not argue anymore and end with a groupie hug?” You state unsurely, seeing as Yunjin and Wonyoung never relent from the glaring contest.
Eventually, the two relax their tense postures, but neither of them utters an apology to the other. Nevertheless, Karina initiates the group hug, forcing Wonyoung and Yunjin to nestle closely while they grumble, but their features soften when you wrap your arms around them.
“Friends, again, right?” Karina asks nervously but covers up with an optimistic grin as she looks at them while you anticipate the same.
Wonyoung’s face remains impassive as she leans slightly forward to Yunjin. “If anything happens to Y/N, the blame is on you.” Her voice is low, carrying an undercurrent of warning.
Yunjin rolls her eyes, not intimidated in the slightest. “You’ll be thanking me instead for when Y/N has the time of her life at Devil's Night.” Just like that, the tension between them subsides, though they still harbour some pettiness over the action and words of the other behind the reconciliation.
“Let’s go, then. At this rate, we’ll be the last ones to arrive and miss out on most of the fun.” Karina says, prompting Yunjin to walk past Wonyoung before Karina follows after her.
You busily proceed to stuff whatever necessity into your white mini leg bag before wrapping the strap around your thigh, securing it fittingly. You look in the mirror to do a final examination of your appearance before turning around to depart from your room. Your eyebrows jump in surprise when you see Wonyoung waiting for you just outside, and her face remains disconcertingly as serious as ever.
“Are you sure about this?” She asks you as soon as you step closer to her, and her voice has a touch of gentleness to it, which makes your eyes soften as you recognise her concern for you. “I just don’t want you to feel pressured by them, which is why you’re going.”
“Yes.” Although you sound decisively certain, you can’t say the same for your churning stomach, but you ignore it since you are genuinely looking forward to the fun. Giving her a smile of final assurance, you begin to loop your arm around hers. “I love you, Wony, but Yunjin’s right, you know? I can’t be sheltered like I used to, and I want to graduate without any regrets.”
Wonyoung seems to believe in the conviction in the way you carry yourself, oblivious to the mask of bravado you put up, but you have to convince your best friend that she can trust you with your own safety without having her hover over you constantly. “Well, if you say so.” She softens with a smile.
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Being the only one in your friend group who passed her driving license, Karina offered to drive the three of you to the venue with her polished purple Porsche, but in your mischief, you were quick enough to occupy the passenger seat, earning an approved grin from Karina, whereas Yunjin and Wonyoung did not look pleased to be seated in the back together.
Though it hasn’t been long since the four of you departed from the dormitory, silence encompasses the car with only an euphonic tune of the latest hit emanating from the dashboard radio, which feels unusual even to you since you value silence most of the time and your best friends would always be loud. It most likely has to do with the remnants of bitterness that Yunjin and Wonyoung still harbour towards each other, judging by the way they seem to be avoiding each other’s eyes. Karina meets your eyes, grimacing before deciding to increase the volume of the radio to override the awkwardness amidst the tension.
You hope that their usual dynamic would return to normal by the time you arrive at the venue. You press your lips thinly together before deciding to shift your focus to the window, where the view of multifarious buildings greets you, albeit most of the buildings appear to be oddly barren. Even the streetlights look eerily dim. It looks like Karina is driving through a town that you are unfamiliar with, and you would actually consider it a ghost town if it weren’t for the other vehicles driving on the same road as you, possibly the other guests.
You focus on the road ahead of you in an attempt to distract yourself from the unease that is creeping up on you, but soon confusion fills your head as Karina continues to drive past the last of the structured villas before entering into a massive road where a boulevard of trees towers on both sides of the road, because naturally, you expected the location of the festivity to be at a typical frat member’s backyard of their villa or even mansion, but from the looks of the road that continues to lead you to the unknown, you hope that it won’t be at a literal haunted building.
Soon, amidst the darkness that ostensibly obscures the road around you, an unmistakable illumination emerges ahead as you squint your eyes. With the velocity that Karina picks up, it isn’t long until the massive surprise awaits you, quite literally. You even have to blink your eyes repeatedly a couple of times, uncertain whether or not you are seeing the exact same thing as your best friends.
Karina decelerates the speed of her car as soon as she spots the vehicles lining up ahead of her that leads to a driveway before coming to a complete stop right behind a BMW. She taps her fingers on the leathered steering wheel that matches the beat of the music, letting the time pass while multitasking to slowly drive forward as the queue ahead shortens. From her peripheral vision, she notices the way your lips go parted and your widened eyes, bringing a small grin to her lips. “Are you liking the view?” Karina asks coyly, even drawing Yunjin and Wonyoung’s attention to you.
“Yeah, I just─” You become distracted when your eyes land on the creepy scarecrows situated in the land of greenery right outside, prompting you to turn your head to meet Karina’s eyes. “I didn’t expect that the festivity would be held at such a massive manor.” For a moment, you had no idea whether or not to utter the word palace, because it perfectly describes the sight that you are viewing.
A knock draws your attention, noticing Karina pushing down a button at the side that allows the driver’s window to roll down, revealing a manly figure with his identity obscured by a mask that is identical to the one you saw yesterday on campus. You observe him with curiosity as he holds the beaming flashlight at the interior of the car, squinting when the light skims your face. For a moment, you become hyperaware of this indescribable tension as he continues his examination of the car before he walks over to the back of the car. As though it is a routine, Karina instantly presses a button that allows him to examine the trunk. Upon hearing two knocks, Karina steps on the gas pedal, allowing the car to move forward, and it’s also when you notice the imposing black gates open, granting access to the territory.
The first thing that greets your sight up close is the grandeur of water fountains situated across the broad front yard, particularly the massive one that stands out in the center. As Karina continues to drive forward, you take the opportunity to marvel at the divine modernisation manor that looks more monumental than any building you have ever seen. It almost looks like a whole palace, making you wonder if the interior structure of the manor also looks similar to a royal palace. Above all, you wonder who is the owner.
“We’ve finally arrived, girls.” Karina announces, as soon as she pulls over on the massive asphalt where different ranges of vehicles are arrayed, before switching off the ignition of the engine, whilst you proceed to unbuckle your seatbelt and exit the vehicle.
The collective movement of the other guests captures your attention, and your eyes sparkle with amazement at the diversity in their costume designs and makeup, but ultimately, you grimace at the unpleasant sight of those who intentionally dressed up horrifically as part of their devotion to tone with the Halloween theme. But you applaud their commitment.
Being driven by the excitement buzzing in you, your feet gravitate you to the main entrance while your eyes continue to scan the manor’s facade. It doesn’t appear as eerie as you expected, devoid of spooky ornaments, but you know better than to judge early. Though you don’t and have never celebrated Halloween, you know that it does also entail unexpectancy, and so you mentally prepare yourself for any potential fright that this manor has to offer on this devilish night.
A poster that has a similar depiction of the flyer from yesterday catches your eyes, prompting you to move over to the grand pillar that has the poster attached to it just outside the main entrance. Though the depiction alone emanates something so sinister that it should have perturbed you, you find yourself being highly intrigued by what makes this festivity notoriously unique that never fails to compel almost everyone to attend.
Your eyes land on the familiar symbol that even you recognise — a human skull with a pair of discordant horns on its head with a long dagger impaled directly into the skull from above, reminding you of the holy cross with the way its t-handle is upside down. The Devil’s Knights’ symbol. Something familiarly unpleasant begins to churn in your stomach.
When you first heard about Devil's Night, you had a strong inkling that the event, let alone the name itself, would bring bad tidings to anyone involved. It is a popular annual Halloween festivity that is hosted by the notorious fraternity of Devil’s Knights, and according to your best friends, the overall in-charge of the event are the four leaders, who technically also dominate the university. But you see them all the same — just a bunch of delinquents who love to flaunt and assert corruption and dominance over Redcrest University everywhere they go. You find it ridiculous how even the board of the university simply overlooks their delinquency, but based on your current knowledge, it has something to do with the fact that the university benefits greatly from the eminent yet influential figures, whose long family line had enrolled into the university for many generations and earned many achievements, thus elevating the status of the university name that eventually earns a notable standing in the high society over the years across SoKor.
You hear your name being called with footsteps rushing from behind before you feel a hand on your shoulder to draw your attention to your best friend, whose countenance is unable to conceal the concern in her eyes. “You forgot your mask.” She tells you as she holds up a white masquerade mask.
You thank Wonyoung with a sheepish smile, but before you can retrieve it from her, she assists you in wearing your mask, securing the lacey material around your head and tying it into a perfect ribbon. You have forgotten that there is a special theme for this year’s Devil’s Night, which is masquerade macabre, wherein all guests are highly encouraged to attend with their own masquerade masks, though you have no idea why, but it’s probably a mere decoration on the guests’ part.
Plus, it is no wonder that you have been getting unpleasant stares from the people in your vicinity because they recognise the only renowned good girl who is practically the emblem of purity on campus, aka you, not that you are proud of it, considering that many view you with such abhorrence despite the fact that you have never disrupted the peace of others, just minding your own business and living quietly while trying your best to avoid drawing any attention to yourself. 
With Karina’s arm locking around yours, the four of you stride forwards towards the main entrance, moving past the two imposing knights that probably pose as the bouncers as they seem to scan the guests for any potential trouble. As soon as you manage to cross past the final border to make it into the manor, you are immediately greeted by the terrifying ornaments in every interior part. You gulp nervously at the sight of the bloodstains that serve as part of the decoration, having no idea whether or not those are indeed blood imitations. Nevertheless, even those fail to overshadow the beauty of the manor, not even the dim lighting that exudes a haunting setting.
Despite your newfound admiration for the manor, there is an agitating turmoil within you that mirrors the way your heart pounds harder in your chest, having zero knowledge of what horror the night will possibly entail. Your fingernails dig crescents in your palm, repressing the cowardly side of you. You hate how you will always be the one with the faintest heart out of them all.
Just when you intend to ease up, your discomposure returns as you and your best friends release blood-curdling screams when four hideous scare actors bring terror upon the bunch of you as soon as you enter the main foyer. Chuckles and murmurs emit from the other guests loitering in the same area as they look at the commotion, but you are too preoccupied with regulating your emotions and breathing as you clutch onto Wonyoung’s arm instinctively.
Is it too early to say that you’re already regretting popping your Halloween virgin cherry?
“Oh, fuck off!” Karina snarls at them, imitating a cat-like hiss that brings a faint smile to your lips at how amusing it is. “That was uncool!” She expresses her displeasure to one of the scare actors with a scowl on her face while Yunjin shoots an icy glare at them as they chortle in unison behind their hideous yet terrifying masks.
“Lighten up, darling~ It’s Halloween!” The scare actor counters jeeringly before high-fiving his fellow associates with derisive laughter emitting from them even as they walk away to find other targets to bestow the same terror.
“Devil’s knights. How typical,” Yunjin scoffs out as she crosses her arms over her chest, but her eyes wander to you with concerned intent, considering your scream was the loudest out of the three of them. You release a shaky sigh, relaxing a tensed muscle in your shoulder. Of course, those scare actors were the devil's knights.
“You guys finally made it!” A high-pitched squeal diverts your attention to the familiar blonde, who is dressed up as Annabelle from the famous Conjuring film, but she manages to pull off the look rather adorably instead of ghastly. Her eyes instantly meet yours, greatly surprised yet delighted to see you. “Y/N?! Are my eyes deceiving me right now? You came!”
You don’t have time to process when she crashes into you, her arms latching around your figure and steadying you while breathy chuckles elicit from you as you reciprocate her eager hug. “You’ve just seen me yesterday, Minjeong.”
Minjeong, who also majors in journalism, is a part of the circle and a trusted friend to you. She is like a bolt of lightning. Despite her ebullient disposition, she can be fierce and intimidating when needed.
“We knew those screams sounded familiar.” This time, another voice grabs your attention with its familiar mirth, and at once, the rest of your familiar group of circle has gathered around you, greeting you with heartfelt hugs and gushing over your look that makes you feel rather bashful at their generous compliments.
In your line of sight are Kazuha, Chaewon, Liz, Rei, Yujin, Giselle, and Ningning. Whereas Kazuha, Chaewon, and Yujin are majoring in arts and entertainment management, Liz, Rei, and Ningning are majoring in economics. Giselle, on the other hand, is in the same major as you, Wonyoung, and Winter. Despite the fact that all of them are highly regarded as the it girls of the university that falls in the same league as your roommates, not once have they ever left you out and made you feel an outcast, especially considering that most of the student body dislikes you for reasons you deem irrational.
So what if they hate you just because you did not hail from an esteemed, affluent family? You managed to pass an entrance exam with a perfect score, and you even earned yourself scholarships over the years of your education here. Frankly speaking, you are not bothered by the fact that there are students who dislike you for your status ranking, because at the end of the day, your GPA remains a perfect 4.0, and you are on the director’s list of exceptional students. Plus, your future is all set. You just need to maintain your GPA and graduate and get the hell out of university without involving yourself in any trouble for the next few months.
You mentally detach yourself from the ongoing chatter from your group of friends, your eyes scanning every part of the crowd, searching for a certain leader who had his eyes on you yesterday. The memory feels fresh as it is embedded in your mind. But he is not anywhere in your line of sight.
Yunjin, who notices how you seem to be distracted in searching for someone, nudges you with her elbow, which has you meeting her curious eyes. “Anyone in particular you’re looking for?” She asks, her voice low, as she knows that you’d hate for the other girls to pester or even tease you if they heard her question.
“No one. I was just admiring the place. It looks similar to a grand palace, don’t you think?” You hide your disappointment behind a smile, without knowing that it does little to convince Yunjin, but she decides to drop it.
“Okay, girls, gather around." Karina announces, and the group of you huddle in a circle, with giggles and banter emanating from your friends. “While we’re here to have fun, we must never forget to keep Y/N in our sight at all times, especially since this is her first time attending Devil’s Night. Plus, it would really ease Momma Wony, who has been awfully worried for our girl.”
“Hey, I’m not a kid! I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself!” You assert strongly, but your demur goes unheard by them as they continue to quickly run through what to look out for, or rather who to look out for — the Devil’s Knights’ leaders.
“It’s for your own good, Y/N.” Wonyoung tells you softly after noticing the sour expression on your face as soon as they begin to disperse while you remain by her side, dragging you with her. Your best friends seem to know their way around the manor, pushing their way through the bustling crowd as they venture deeper.
“You girls really don’t have to worry about me.” You remain adamant while reluctantly allowing yourself to be dragged by Wonyoung. Your eyebrows furrow, and your lips downturn into a frown. “I know how and when to steer clear of trouble.”
Despite being the same age as them, your best friends and the others who are in the same circle of friends as you often coddle you, including protecting you from anyone who has ill intent towards you, especially from some of the frat members who have tried to approach you in the past. Of course, you feel much gratitude for your friends, and you are blessed to be surrounded by feminine love and support, but there are moments when you do feel overwhelmed by them and frustrated as they seem to think that you are incapable even when you prove yourself to them, but according to them, your innocence is highlighted as crucial and needs to be protected. Sometimes, it feels as though they feel obliged to shelter you from the cruel reality and want you to remain the way you are. Pure, and a literal saint, but you hate it.
“I know, but you have to understand that this Halloween is different.” Wonyoung asserts firmly, to which you can’t help but resign. “Trouble is everywhere here, and no one is immune to attracting trouble. Not even you.”
“What is so different about a mere Halloween party?” Still, you mutter with a sass of attitude, but audible enough for Karina and Yunjin to hear that has them raising their eyebrows at this attitude of yours.
“It’s different because each Halloween hosted by the devil’s knights differs from the previous Halloween.” Karina answers as though she has recited this before, and when you look into her eyes, you see uncertainty shine through them. “Really, we can never predict what they have up their sleeves. But one thing that remains constant is the fact that Devil’s Night is not meant for anyone faint of heart.”
“Ironic, because here we are, dragging Y/N with us.” There is a familiar bite in Wonyoung’s tone, but you frown at her as she impliedly agreed that you are one of those with a faint of heart.
“Nothing is going to happen to Y/N as long as we stick by her side.” Yunjin reassures Wonyoung firmly once more, annoyance filtering her voice, but your attention drifts to the new scenery before you.
It appears that you haven’t been paying attention to your surroundings earlier, as you now find yourself entering what looks like a club. Incredulity buzzes through you the way the blasting music does. You definitely did not expect that there would be a club inside the regal manor. The club looks lavish with a B-stage right at the very front and a bustling crowd enjoying and dancing to the music that has obscene lyrics, which brings a grimace to your face, but you know that you have to get familiar with being in this environment if you want to step out of your comfort zone. 
You follow Wonyoung closely while marvelling at your surroundings. You have no idea how enormous the venue is, but you can’t deny the fact that you find it impressive, and there are even two separate bars on each side of the venue. Yunjin grabs you by your forearm and drags you with her and Karina to head over to the bar while Wonyoung trails behind you. Thankfully, there are not many people by the bar, but even so, you become conscious of the way you look as more eyes latch onto your form, making you feel as though you are naked.
“Do you want a non-alcoholic drink?” Yunjin asks you as soon as the four of you settle on the high stools where you are facing the bartenders in their element, serving other guests that are seated by the booth as well.
“I actually would like to try some alcoholic cocktails, maybe a margarita?” Your statement elicits genuine surprise from them. You bite the inner cheek, holding back a smile that displays your pride. Of course, they did not expect you to know the name of a single alcoholic beverage, but you did. You had done some research last night, skimming through the internet and memorising the alcoholic beverages. Plus, you didn’t want to look like a complete amateur at your grown age, wanting to impress your best friends.
“How did you know?” Yunjin asks, speaking for the other two who have the same question in mind, and yet Yunjin seems proud with the way her eyes sparkle.
You give her a sheepish smile. “Just because I don’t go places like this often doesn’t mean I’m an amateur. i know things too, you know?” You tell her coyly, eliciting amused chuckles from them.
“A margarita for the angel right here.” Yunjin chirps to the bartender while pointing her finger at you, and being a natural flirt, she winks at the bartender, who, in return, blushes but quickly proceeds to make your order.
“Are you sure about drinking?” As always, Wonyoung’s worry for you is evident when the glass of margarita is served to you. “You might get tipsy after a few sips since you have never drunk one before.”
“Don’t discourage her, Wony.” Karina says with a disapproving frown on her lips. “If Y/N says she wants one, she will have one.” Wonyoung rolls her eyes at her, but acquiesces.
The three of them watch you in anticipation as your fingers wrap around the delicate stem of the glass before raising it to your lips and taking tentative sips. As soon as the cocktail hits your tongue, you decide to drink it wholly in one go, surprising your best friends once more at how natural you are at it.
“How is your first-ever drink?” Karina gives you a grin, her eyes glittering with approval, entirely impressed by this new side of you. 
The cocktail that you drank surprisingly isn’t too strong, but you feel oddly energised. You lick at the seam of your bottom lip before a grin spreads across your lips. “I’d like to try other drinks. Any recommendations?” You ask the girls, specifically Karina and Yunjin, as they enthusiastically introduce you to the drinks on the menu board.
Yunjin proceeds to inform all of your orders to the blushing bartender once more, including Karina and Wonyoung’s. As the three of your best friends are engaged in a conversation, you decide to look over your shoulder with your body tilting to watch the ongoing performance from a live band, and the music seems to be getting to you, influencing your body to sway to the rhythm. Your eyes skim over the sea of partygoers dancing among themselves and with each other, tempting you to join in the dancing yet intoxicating crowd.
Your lips curve into a small smile, finding yourself relaxed, totally at ease for once, probably thanks to the alcohol that has now invaded your system. You take sips of your drink again, relishing in the addicting flavour before placing down the half-empty glass on the table. Deciding to keep yourself occupied and entertained whilst your best friends are still having a conversation about a topic you know nothing of, your eyes wander around as you are lost in your thoughts until they land on a particular figure that stands out to you in a place full of partygoers.
Though he is seated on a velvety couch across the side of the club from where you are at, his visual is so outstanding that you simply cannot look away. Still in a trance, your eyes roam around the entirety of him before locking eyes with him, and just like that, you are struck by the dreadful realisation that you are staring into the eyes of the man who you used to have a crush on. From the way he raises his eyebrow attractively at you and how the amusement curls on his plump lips, you know that he has been staring at you.
His gaze is sharp as he continues to hold your gaze, seated leisurely on the couch with his legs spreading invitingly as though to tempt you to come over to him, rendering you flustered, and yet you find it hard to look away from him, wanting to feast your eyes on him for as long as you can. His lips tip up in a smirk as he takes sips of his drink, scanning you from head to toe for another time before the handsome view of him is blocked by an incessant group of partygoers.
But you have a feeling that you’ll be seeing him again, especially after recognising the patent desire burning in his eyes that parallels the desire pooling within you sinfully.
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Humour manages to slither its way to your dazed mind that is tainted by the intoxication from the number of drinks you had, eliciting drunkard chuckles from you, and yet you don’t feel fully inebriated, just the slightest bit tipsy. A scoff follows after the chuckles that leave your lips before you tip your head to the back as you drink the last of your cocktail. You take a glance at the empty seats next to you that were previously occupied by your best friends. It is definitely ironic how your best friends, particularly Wonyoung, were insistent on keeping their eyes on you to prevent something from happening to you, but they are nowhere to be found now. Even so, you know yourself that you didn’t need any form of babysitting at a party despite this being your first time. 
Maybe this is the alcohol that is intensifying the feelings you buried deep, but frankly speaking, you have had enough of your best friends treating you like you’re a helpless, incapable damsel who is in need of supervision at all times. No, this time, you will prove to them that you can have fun without any restriction or anything happening to you. You will prove to them that you are far more capable than they think.
You decide to abandon your seat, nearly losing balance as dizziness strikes you in the head, but you swiftly regain composure, now standing on both feet steadily. Your eyes feel magnetically drawn across from the side of the club, expecting to see him, only to feel sheer disappointment to see no sight of him at where he was just seen earlier. Just when you feel confident to approach him, that is driven by the impulse of intoxication.
Nevertheless, you refuse to allow his absence to deter you from experiencing the fun by the dance floor with other partygoers, and so you gravitate towards the bustling crowd with red and purple LEDs in motion illuminating every part of the club that exudes such sensuality. You venture deeper, and instead of panicking and getting overwhelmed by the crowd around you, you feel oddly liberated with your body moving to the infectious rhythm instinctively, in which the DJ is currently playing Waka Flocka’s ‘No Hands’ as it reverberates throughout these walls.
You know that it has to do with the alcohol buzzing in your system that has completely relieved any rationale and any saintly quality from within you, rendering you unrecognisable as you go all out without any restriction, giggling and dancing fluidly as though you are a natural at it, but not a single regret comes to mind. 
Unbeknownst to you, he has his eyes fixated on you from the moment you venture onto the dance floor, completely mesmerised at the sight of you revelling in the abysmal toxicity. With the people in his vicinity recognising his unmasked face, they immediately give way to him, allowing him to make his way to you with ease. He bites down on his plump lip, enjoying the way you are flaunting your moves that accentuate your curves a little too much. 
You got him in a complete trance, enticing him to roam his hands all over you. Your giggles sound melodious yet seductive to his ears as soon as he nearly reaches you from behind. His eyes darken with each passing second as your body sways with fluidity, and your back is arched with your head tilted up, immersing yourself in the music while a sultry smile smears across your lips. He can feel his cock hardening beneath the slacks.
Fuck, he has no idea there is a side to you that he gets incredibly turned on by, and it has been so long since anyone has managed to make him as enragingly turned on as he is now. Flashes of images of you being fucked relentlessly by him appear in his mind as he fantasises, and how he can already imagine your taste that probably won’t satisfy him, utterly insatiable.
Without thinking twice, he places both hands on your waist from behind, his fingers tingling at the sensation of your body as he allows his hands to roam around your curves with perverse intent. Your body feels so undeniably right in his hands, as though you were always meant to be held by him. Instead of feeling alarmed, you remain relaxed and loose, swaying along to the music with the supposed stranger behind you.
You allow him to pull you closer until your butt cheek hits his hardness, causing your breath to hitch in your throat at the solid sensation, and yet you can’t seem to stop dancing. You unintentionally grind yourself back against him, eliciting a sound between a low groan and growl from the back of his throat that shocks you to the core. Your heart pumps rapidly with anticipation as his hot breath fans the shell of your earlobe while his strong arms snake around your waist, locking you in his possession.
In your delirium, you tilt your head up and lean on his shoulder lazily, allowing him to guide your movements instead. His strong cologne is intoxicating as it infiltrates your senses. You hear his low, ragged breaths next to your ear, as though he is struggling to control the bestial side of him before you feel him dipping his head in the curve of your neck, his nose burying in your skin as he inhales your sweet scent that has automatically been engraved in his mind.
A startled gasp leaves your lips when you feel his warm lips touch your skin before he proceeds to kiss your neck sensually. You should be pushing this stranger away, but instead, you allow yourself to fall weak and succumb to the allure of his kisses on your neck. Soft moans leave your lips unabashedly as his lips assault the sensitive spot on your neck, causing his arms to tighten around you at your sweet noises. “You sound just as exquisite as the way you taste.” You hear him murmur those words, or you assume he murmurs those words, since the music is overpowering, but you swear you recognise his voice. 
In a blink of an eye, he spins you around, his hands remaining on your waist. Though the lighting in the club is dim, the LEDs allow you to catch a glimpse of his face. Recognition glimmers in your eyes that is soon followed by mortification at the realisation that you were being brazenly intimate in the middle of the dance floor, as though most people around you weren’t grinding and making out lewdly in the open from earlier.
“Jake.” You utter his name, feeling both confused and aroused while your breath sounds shaky, but the view up close of his fine glory has you foaming at the mouth as your eyes roam around the entirety of him. He looks sinfully attractive in all denims with his chain necklace hooked around his neck, and his long raven hair has been styled impeccably with a few strands hovering over his chiselled forehead. Your eyes catch a sight of a unique inked tattoo of a snake on his collarbone area peeking due to his loose white tee that hangs a little low on his frame.
“The one and only, sweetheart.” You meet his eyes, nearly melting into a puddle when his kissable lips arch into a smirk. You don’t make any protests as you remain numb in his possession. Everything feels surreal, making you doubtful if the man you once had a crush on finally notices you in the way you wanted, but you continue to dance with him, taking him by surprise when you throw your arms around his neck.
You feel your arousal pooling in your womanhood as you see him licking his lips sensually before leaning down and assaulting your now-arched neck with his addicting lips. “I’m glad you came. The party was getting boring without you here.” He says in between kisses while the wet, smacking sound of his lips arouses you greatly. He groans huskily in your ear before nipping your earlobe with his teeth gently. “You look so fucking gorgeous, sweetheart. I can’t get enough of you.”
Your legs nearly go jelly, prompting you to lean dependently into his body, and for a moment, just when you succumb to his dark allure, the truth hits you hard, which propels you to push him away, but he holds you firmly, depriving you of any escape. “You can’t be calling me ‘sweetheart’.” You protest weakly, wanting nothing more than to submit yourself to him completely. He seems to ignore your protest as he leans in to press a sensual kiss on your cheek. “And you definitely can’t be kissing me.”
Jake shrugs his shoulders indifferently. “Why can’t I?” He asks, feigning curiosity in his tone, but the devilish curl at the corner of his lips betrays his mask. 
“Well, you should only be kissing someone you like.” You murmur, your eyes crestfallen as you feel familiarly crushed by the hard truth that he probably doesn’t recognise your voice as it’s been years since you last interacted with him, not that you expect him to. Plus, your masquerade mask obscures half of your identity, so there is absolutely no way he even bothered to remember you. “You probably don’t even recognise me, let alone know my name─”
“Y/N,” Jake tilts your chin up with his fingers, forcing you to meet his firm eyes, his gaze holding genuine integrity and recognition. Upon seeing your eyes widening in surprise, his features soften as he caresses your cheek tenderly. “How could I not recognise you?”
You immediately recover by relaxing your muscles and allowing him to pull you closer until his prominent bulge presses into you. Your heart races at his dark gaze that smoulders with an unmistakable desire before he looks down at your lips. “We really shouldn’t be like this, and you can’t kiss me again.” You try to reason with him, but you lack tenacity, as evident in the way you bask in his warmth.
For a fleeting moment, you wonder what goes on in his mind as you notice hesitation in his eye before the familiar mischief that you recognise returns to his countenance. With one arm locked around your waist, he uses the other to cup your cheek. “It’s okay, sweetheart. We’re at a party, so there are no restrictions. It’s completely normal for us to be kissing, especially on the dance floor.”
You fall into the deceit he covertly orchestrates, his voice a mellow in your ears that renders you nearly bare your soul to him. “Really?” Your tone holds such pure innocence; it is a calling to his corruption, bringing a smirk to his lips, loving how gullible and adorably naive you are as you stare at him with sparkling eyes.
“Of course it is. If you didn’t know it yet, this is my domain, so we can do whatever the fuck we want, and no one would dare to question what you do.” Jake says with an attractive drawl in his voice before leaning in to whisper in your ear, his husky voice intensifying the need pooling in you incessantly. “Besides, I do like you.”
“You do?” Your eyes widen while butterflies awaken in your tummy. “Why?” You can’t help but feel doubtful of his declaration, fearing that he is being a total Casanova, as he always has been throughout the years you have known him.
“You’re a nice and sweet girl, so, so perfect for me. How could I not like you?” Jake gives you a charming smile, and just like that, you fall for his irresistible charm. He presses his body into you, feeling you up while the distance between your lips slowly decreases. “My sweet girl.”
If you could verbally purr right now, you would, but instead, you lean closer to him, your head resting on his shoulder, basking in the newfound comfort and safety in his arms. You feel him pressing his lips on the side of your head, causing your lips to twitch into a content smile, oblivious to the devilry he has been keeping at bay.
“Someone as pure as you shouldn’t have come here,” Jake whispers softly, almost inaudible due to the overpowering music, but there is no mistaking the darkness lacing his once-mellow tone. “Now that you’re here, there is no way I’d ever let you go after this.”
Instead of being fearful of the discernible obsession in the way he speaks, you snuggle into him, loving the idea of being his forever. “Don’t let me go, Jake.” You plead softly, but even you know that you are not entirely in your right mind. In this moment, you simply don’t care, only wanting his attention and affection.
Jake smirks at you, his eyes glinting with devilry and satisfaction, successfully having you, the renowned Y/N kang and the emblem of purity, right in his possession. “Be careful what you wish for, my lovely dearest.”
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Your face twists into a grimace as you feel your head throbbing, but your steps never falter as you continue your search for any restroom in this broad club, wanting to cleanse your hands as well as to recuperate yourself after spending all of your energy on the dance floor. You recall how disappointed you were when your moment with Jake was cut short as he had to leave in a hurry for some reason, not before giving you a kiss on the cheek. Maybe what happened between you and your first crush was purely in the heat of a moment, and just maybe the words that left the casanova’s mouth weren’t genuine, but you have never felt as contented as you were earlier.
You release a sigh of relief upon seeing the washroom signage after ten minutes of walking around in confusion, and it looks like this is the only washroom in this club. You hope that there is no one inside, but just as you push open the door, you are greeted by a strong yet odious smell with smoke wafting in the air in an enclosed space, causing your nose to automatically crinkle in disgust.
The moment your eyes land on four figures occupying the corner part of the washroom, you freeze, because not only do they have their attention fixated on you, but also because you recognise the masks that obscure their identity. They appear to have finished smoking some sort of substance, but whether or not it’s illegal, you can’t bring yourself to care about it, because the only thing you are very much hyperaware of is the danger that emits from them, and the red LED that surrounds the place only seems to make them appear more villainous than they already are.
You try to find your voice, to utter an apology or anything that can excuse your unintentional intrusion, because as much as you despise the Devil’s Knights, you know better than to be on your high horse in their territory, but you tremble with fear as they begin to approach you, similar to predators toying with their prey, no doubt having ill intent towards you. Your mind is screaming at you to flee, but your entire body feels paralysed to even move back an inch.
Before you can even silently utter a prayer, the door behind you is pushed open in a manner that suggests that whoever it is, they seem to be barging into the washroom urgently. Just as you are about to turn around and see who it is, his voice startles you greatly. “You guys just love to piss me off. How many times do I have to tell you bastards that no smoking is allowed in the washroom?” His voice is devoid of any warmth, sending a familiar yet unpleasant chill down your spine. “If I see you pulling this shit again, you’ll have Heeseung as well to deal with. Get out, now.” 
Without a word, the four knights waste no time in departing the washroom, sparing you no glance as though your presence is merely non-existent. Despite the disconcerting chill you feel in being in the same vicinity as him, you find it a tad humorous how he seems to have saved you from his own underlings, even though you doubt that it was his intention. Yet, you can’t help but be in awe at his commanding presence alone, managing to overpower theirs all together.
Their final departure now leaves you entirely alone with the guy you never want to be anywhere near his vicinity. Painful awkwardness envelops you amidst the disconcerting silence, but you force yourself to take steps forward, albeit unsteadily, as the alcohol in your system returns to delay your reaction time and the fact that you feel his gaze burning into your figure. Somehow, you manage to find your voice. “Just so you’re expecting a thank you from me, I didn’t need your help, Sunghoon.”
You ignore his degrading chuckles that sound like painful shards of mirrors cutting through you. “Sure, you didn’t. You looked perfectly capable of defending yourself even when you were practically trembling.” His sarcasm causes your eyes to twitch in annoyance, but you try your best to ignore him as you proceed to wash your hands in the washbasin.
Though you are somewhat still under the influence of alcohol, you feel conscious enough to avoid any further unnecessary confrontation with him. Plus, there is absolutely no way Sunghoon knows who you are because of your masquerade mask and the fact that you haven’t formally interacted with him in your uni years until now. But when you accidentally meet his eyes in the mirror, you want nothing more than to bury yourself deep 6 feet under at the cruel recognition in his eyes.
You don’t dare to move an inch as he stalks you from behind. “You know, you made a big mistake by coming here.” He says in a sinfully attractive drawl. “It’s funny because I never would have thought that you would dare to step foot in a place that is not suited for someone like you. Guess you proved me wrong, princess.”
Maybe you were wrong, because from the implication in his remarks, you have a strong inkling that he knows who you are, or maybe you are just reading it all wrongly. Still, you turn around to face him, masking a bravado that you hope will convince him that you are someone else. “You think you know me?” Your tone holds an unrecognisable confidence in your ears. “I couldn’t even be bothered to prove you wrong, out of all people.”
“Careful with how you speak to me.” Sunghoon nearly growls out, unconcealing his true feelings towards you that feel rather on a personal level for reasons beyond your comprehension. He is unrelenting in each step of torment towards you, prompting you to back up until your lower back hits the sink behind you, preventing you from any escape as he is closing in on you. “You think you can act all mighty and arrogant just because you’re wearing that mask? Are you seriously taking me for a fool?”
His strong cologne hits you like an intoxicating wave, sending mixed signals to your brain as you feel both fear and attraction towards him, eliciting an inaudible whimper from you. You hate how he looks sinfully attractive up close with the red LED that enhances his impeccable visual that complements the menacing ambience he exudes.
Your heart pumps harder as his lips curve into a devilish smirk while his eyes look more callous than they did before. “Let me tell you something, princess. I don’t give a fuck whether or not you decide to prove anything to me. Even the way you dress up like a slut has no effect on me.” His voice is laced with venom, holding an unmistakable hatred for you that you can’t help but feel a stab of hurt in your chest.
Before you can muster any possible comeback, voices approaching the restroom from the outside render you alarmed. Sunghoon looks indifferent, but he takes you by complete surprise when he grabs you firmly by the arm before practically shoving you inside the only cubicle this restroom has. For a moment, you feel thankful to him when you manage to hide away at the perfect timing when they enter the restroom. 
But any gratitude to him is short-lived when Sunghoon pushes you up against the side wall with his palm covering your mouth while his dark eyes are glaring into yours heatedly, silently commanding you to shut the fuck up, and you do. The close proximity between the heat of your bodies barely manages to register in your head when familiar voices echo in the restroom, causing your eyes to widen in panic.
“Did you see the bitch getting all handsy over her as soon as she noticed me? It makes me feel whole lot better knowing that my ex-girlfriend obviously could never find anyone better than me.” There is no doubt that’s Kim Minjeong, aka Winter, her voice burning with resentment and arrogance.
Sunghoon feels your lips trembling in his palm before even noticing the entirety of you trembling with visible fear and anxiety in your eyes, and it is much worse when the girls outside clearly need to use the cubicle, as evident by their remarks in between the conversations. He knows that he’s supposed to take great pleasure in your fear of being discovered by your friends, but instead, there is this maddening sense of pity for you and the disbelieving fact that deep down, he feels inclined to help you with this inescapable situation, especially since one of them is already knocking on the door of the cubicle.
“Hello? Care to hurry up and help out a girl in need to use the toilet here?” Sunghoon rolls his eyes at the familiar sass that belongs to Giselle’s voice. “Seriously, are you taking a huge dump or something?”
Before you can panic further, your heart only pumps harder when Sunghoon leans in next to your ear, his breath caressing your earlobe. “You gotta trust me on this, princess. Just follow my lead and play along unless you want to get caught.” He whispers softly, but his tone holds an undertone of warning while his demand makes you feel instinctively submissive towards him.
Since you obviously have no choice but to comply, you give him a head nod, only to be rendered flabbergasted when he swiftly hoists you up against the wall with his hands, carrying you by the thighs with ease before he begins to grind into you, allowing you to feel something vulgar that is relentlessly in contact with your womanhood. Little do you know that in order for both of you to fully convince the girls outside, he needs to be really into you, and he finds it insatiable yet surprising by the fact that his cock manages to get hard because of you sooner than he thought.
Well, to be fair, Sunghoon knows that he cannot deny the irresistible beauty in his arms, all dolled up gorgeously that no doubt have many heads turn to you in one night. The skimpy white dress that accentuates your curves does nothing to help abate the salacious fantasy that has been playing in the back of his mind ever since he saw you from afar earlier. His ego flares when he notices you biting down on your lips, knowing that he is making you feel good in the pleasure contorting your angelic features.
You feel good, sinfully good, as his now-bulging erection hits you distinctly in the clit, your eyelids fluttering between closing and keeping them open to focus on him. You lean the back of your head on the wall, presenting your bare neck to his dark eyes, and your chest heaves heavily from the intensity of this newfound pleasure. This should be considered blasphemous to you, and yet you can’t resist stopping as you put in effort, rubbing your clit harder against him while he feels entirely smug to witness how pathetically desperate you are.
An accidental moan leaves your lips when you feel your clit being stimulated at a new height, making you highly sensitive as both of you continue to hump dry against each other like desperate lovers. The last of consciousness slips, and eventually you can’t be bothered to hide the sounds you have been keeping at bay. 
“What the fuck?” Giselle utters loudly in disbelief while the other girls make noises and remarks that express their disgust, especially as they assume that there is indeed a couple doing the deed with the way there is a continuous thudding sound against the wall. “I don’t know about you girls, but I definitely do not want to use a cubicle that’s been used by couples who fucked, like seriously, out of all places?”
You barely notice the girls’ departure from the restroom, only focusing on his extremely hard cock that continues to press and grind into your clit deliciously while moans continue to spill from your lips. He smirks down at you, his fang-like teeth peeking from his lips, feeling both aroused and amused at how pathetic yet adorable you are being highly sensitive and loud just by getting your clit stimulated. Oh, he is definitely going to have so much fun toying around with you.
“Sunghoon, we can stop now. I think they’re gone.” You manage to utter breathlessly in between moans after gaining consciousness, hearing nothing but only the sound of your moans that echo off these walls. Your cheeks flush in embarrassment, having no idea that you could get awfully loud.
Instead of agreeing with you, Sunghoon doesn’t seem like he has any intention to stop as he continues to grind his cock against your throbbing clit, intensifying the pleasure that courses through your body. You try to push him away by the chest, but you lack the conviction as you fall weak, succumbing to this twisted pleasure as you grind back on him. Your hips begin to stutter while your stomach tightens at the sensation of something delicious yet inevitable, feeling your bundle of nerves threaten to implode.
“Sunghoon.” His name sounds heavenly coming out from your moaning mouth, and the control he has over the remnants of his restraint finally snaps the same way any ill feelings he has towards you dissipate, being replaced by a driven need to ruin you.
Just as you nearly reach your climax, Sunghoon halts his movement, eliciting a needy whine from you, but you know that he is not done with you when he manhandles you into a position where you find yourself being bent over with your palms on the wall supporting your body, presenting half of your vulnerability for him to manipulate with perverse intent.
You gasp at the intrusion of his fingers sliding underneath your white lace underwear from behind, feeling them travelling further down until they make real contact with your aching womanhood while your clit throbs. “Damn, princess. You got this wet for me?” He asks smugly as his fingers continue to play around your sticky slicks sensually, causing your senses to heighten by the fact that you are evidently wet. “If I knew you were a pathetic, needy whore, I would’ve had my fun with you before anyone could.”
If anything, his degradation and dominance over you only turn you on painfully as your pussy is aching to be relieved. “Sunghoon, please.” You find yourself pleading with him, hoping that he would either cease this torment or give you further pleasure.
“My needy, slutty princess.” His voice drips with cruel mockery, and before you know it, his fingers plunge into your tight hole, eliciting a gasp from you at the painful intrusion. He hisses lowly, marvelling at how tight you are as your walls clench around him. “Don’t tense up. You’d only be hurting yourself if you don’t relax.”
For a guy who clearly despises you, he is actually capable of giving you advice as you follow, slowly yet unsteadily unclenching your walls around his fingers, but you still feel tight. Nevertheless, he resumes his assault, his strong, unyielding fingers delving rhythmically into your wet cunt while moans tumble past your lips. You have never felt anything like this — sickeningly and intimately invasive, and yet you never want this pleasure to end as you fuck back into his fingers.
It is mesmerising in the way you move, fuelling his fantasy with you that awakens the beast within him. Sunghoon scoffs as you express your desperation with your body before he deprives you of reaching the heights of your pleasure. You barely have time to register anything when he grabs you by the neck, his fingers circling around your throat and pulling you up roughly until your back hits his chest.
“S-Sunghoon—” You let out a sound between a gasp and a moan when his sticky fingers that are coated with your slick come in contact with your clit from the front, making your eyes roll to the back while you fall weak in his unyielding hold, your back arching off his front.
“I’m not stopping until you make a mess on my fingers, princess.” Sunghoon chuckles darkly in your ear, his fingers rubbing your clit in a maddening precision that has your thighs trembling from the onslaught of pleasure. “It’s cute how you could cum just by getting your clit played. You’re so fucking sensitive, and it’s pathetic. Imagine if people see you now? They’d be seeing how much of a needy slut the renowned good girl is for me.”
Sunghoon continues his insult and degradation while expertly multitasking in hurtling you to the edge of ecstasy, making you feel as though you have found a different type of heaven. You don’t miss the way his lips would graze against your jawline while his fingers around your neck tighten, sending you an odd fluttery sensation to your heart amidst this heady cocktail of lust and intoxication that surrounds you.
You can feel the knot forming in your stomach while your clit is aching tremendously for it to implode, and with the last of your moans echoing in the enclosed space, you finally come undone violently with a shuddering release, your lips parting at the delicious onslaught of pleasure while your body convulses in his hold. You begin to feel overstimulated when he continues to rub and press the padding of his fingers into your clit, eliciting a whimper from you, before he travels further below where your slick cum is prevalent, prompting him to deliberately coat his fingers with your wetness.
Still reeling in the aftermath from your high, you feel dazed, allowing him to manhandle you again as he turns you around to face him, only for him to shove his fingers covered in your cum into your mouth. You snap out of it when a certain yet foreign taste hits your tongue, feeling utterly revolted, but his dark eyes penetrate into yours, warning you that there would be consequences if you refuse to comply.
“Suck on them, princess.” Sunghoon commands, his voice sounding huskier with a patent lust. You obey despite the unpleasant sensation of the slick’s thickness, your tongue swirling around his fingers sloppily yet sensually while you maintain eye contact with him. He groans internally while he feels his cock hardening even more upon seeing how innocent you look with your pretty eyes staring up at him as you continue to suck his fingers messily, and yet there is an air of seduction emitting from you, your eyelashes fluttering and your head bobbing back and forth.
Eventually, Sunghoon pulls his fingers away from your mouth with the string of your saliva connected to them, and yet he doesn’t seem the slightest bit bothered by it as he inserts those same fingers into his mouth, tasting the remnants of your cum. You look at him with your cheeks flushed warmly, completely flabbergasted at the fact that he is tasting the mixture of your saliva and cum. You expect him to utter another insult or vulgar remark to you again, but instead, he casts you a smirk, his eyes glinting with danger and lust before he makes his departure from the cubicle, leaving you entirely breathless and wondering what the fuck just happened.
You stagger a step back before leaning your back against the wall, trying to wrap your head around the fact that it was far more intimate than what you had with Jake earlier. The realisation of the heated moment that escalated between you and him hits you like a brick, and the worst part is the fact that you don’t even feel any regret or remorse over the loss of your innocence, albeit it wasn’t the actual genital part. If anything, you want him to give you another mind-blowing session of being fucked purely by his fingers alone.
You immediately snap out of your sinful fantasy and force yourself to pull together. You can’t allow something like that to happen again, because you know that deep down, you would fully succumb to it with no way out. You shake your head and release a sigh before making your way to the washbasin to wash your hands, and if only it would be possible for you to cleanse your entire body. Your eyes examine your tousled appearance in the mirror, only to be taken aback by the smudge of your lipstick. 
Thankfully, you bring the lipstick with you, and you reach out for your mini leg bag that is attached at the side of your thigh. You reapply the lipstick on your lips after wiping any possible wet excess on your face and fix your appearance to make yourself look as decent as possible, because frankly speaking, you looked like a woman who just had mind-blowing sex with a hot stranger.
You proceed to make your way back to the bar, but you feel uncomfortable as you can feel the remnants of your wet slick smeared on your panties. Nevertheless, you put on a facade just as your best friends turn to you, finally returning to the bar that they left first earlier.
“We were looking for you, babe.” Yunjin tells you, carefully observing you as you take a seat at your original stool. “Where did you go?”
“To the restroom.” You simply reply, your tone betraying none of the whirlpool of emotions within you. “Felt a little overwhelmed. You know me; I’m not a fan of big places, but I’m trying.” Thankfully, they seem to have bought your excuse.
“So we were planning to have a shots challenge.” Karina tells you with a grin, a mischievous one that has you arching your eyebrows at. “I’ll explain later, but are you up for it? It’ll be fun!”
“Of course.” You say without any hesitation, causing Wonyoung to look at you with doubt in her eyes, but you ignore her. If this challenge could help you to forget whatever happened in the restroom, then you are more than willing to participate. Not minutes later, the challenge begins to take its place as you stare at the small shot glasses in front of you. Just before you can take your first shot, another realisation strikes you hard, because you remember the look in his eyes and how he speaks to you as well as the words he spoke — he knew who you actually were.
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The cacophony of revellers and resounding music gradually ebbs in the background as he ambles along the sombre corridor, where the lights illuminating in every corner seeming ominously dim, heading towards the main meeting room where it is situated in the prohibited part of the manor, his shadow following closely like a spectre of menace. Jake, who was previously in denims, has changed into practical attire in preparation for the upcoming launch of the main event. He busily zips up his black bomber jacket while his face is devoid of the usual mirth, but his mind occasionally drifts off to you as though the memory of him holding you close is taunting him. 
A muscle jumps in his jaw. Jake had no intention of leaving you high and dry, but he was needed in order to stabilise the final foundation that will affect everything in the town where they will soon wreak havoc and spread terror, leaving no hope to shine through. It took every strength to fight off his temptation to snatch you away from the place and bring you to one of the rooms with the intention of giving you the best fuck of your life as well as leaving you with his marks on your skin. He forces himself to block you from invading his mind, not wanting to get a painful boner again as it’ll only be a bother since he is already running late for the briefing.
Jake’s ears pick up footsteps approaching from behind him, and yet he doesn’t bother to look, knowing that it is his best friend in the way he doesn’t feel the slightest bit threatened. “You’d usually arrive in the meeting room earlier than any of us. Been busy partying like the rest too, Hoon?” 
Silence is the only response from his best friend, not that he was expecting any from a guy who often zones out. Unbeknownst to Jake, Sunghoon’s mind is occupied by you and you alone. The only difference is that he has no intention to recall his encounter with you, but his mind is taunting him with the sinful memory of your sweet, seductive sounds while you voluntarily fucked yourself back on his fingers, and above all, the sweet taste of your cum that remains tingling on his tongue. He knows that he should not allow something like that to happen again, but even he has to admit that one taste of you is never enough.
Sunghoon pulls himself together before getting further into his salacious crave for you as they are nearly arriving at the official territory where it breeds corruption and toxication, not limited to the secrets hidden behind walls after walls.
They halt their steps, standing in front of the door that is made out of steel. Sunghoon gives Jake a head nod, prompting the latter to punch in the correct code on the digital padlock before the door chimes as it automatically opens for them. They are greeted by the familiar sight of a fairly lengthy corridor with separate entrances arrayed on each side of the walls as they step inside. Hearing the door behind them closing with an ominous thud, they begin to make their way to the main meeting room, where soon multitudes of voices are teeming in the cold atmosphere.
Without announcing their arrival, they stride into the main meeting room with an air of confidence and arrogance, drawing everyone’s attention to them as they recognise the familiar dominance they exude, rendering those beneath them to be prudently heedful to the power they wield with the same hands that had done an unthinkable amount of vicious damage.
A small smirk touches Jake’s lips as he takes delight in receiving the attention, practically thriving off it, whereas Sunghoon appears coldly indifferent with his hands tucked in his pockets, but they merely ignore the underlings from all four houses as they are settled and organised in their respective houses while their chatter and hilarity persist in a blending discordant. 
“I expected Jake to lack the decency in arriving at the meeting on time like always, but I didn’t expect you to be following Jake’s footsteps so soon, Sunghoon.” Of course, the only person in this room that loves to get on Sunghoon’s nerves is none other than Jay. “Don’t tell me you’re already hopping back on the fuckboy agenda? I thought you’d long since retired, buddy.” Jay casts a smirk at Sunghoon, casually lounging on a leather swivel chair with both legs settled on the table, and no doubt his signature smirk would make anyone swoon, but to the latter, it is simply infuriating that he is seconds away from delivering a punch to his face.
“Don’t piss us off, Jongseong.” Jake clicks his tongue in annoyance before throwing himself onto an empty swivel chair and making himself comfortable. “Better late than never.”
Jay’s smirk falls, only to shoot Jake a scowl. “Stop calling me that. You know how much I hate being called that.”
Jake, completely undeterred by the potential wrath he might face from his short-tempered best friend, retorts with a taunting smirk. “Then stop being an annoying dick. And you wonder why you can’t get into relationships with how fucking mouthy you are.”
Jay clenches his jaw, taunting with tension. “Says the guy who fucks girls on a daily basis. Probably a walking STI by now.” Sunghoon finds himself amused by their quarrel, but he replace his chuckles with a cough as soon as Jake shoots him a glare.
“The last time I checked, I was clean and safe, so fuck you—”
“Enough.” A firm voice is resonating enough to conquer the tumult of disarray in the massive room, instantaneously silencing everyone and shifting their attention to the only person in the room who has not uttered a single word since he stepped foot here, including drawing attention from the three leaders gathered by the conference table.
Heeseung’s figure remains eerily still as he is seated by the window sill, one hand tucked in his pocket while the other sporadically toys around with his prized melee, and something appears to have captured his high interest in the way his gaze is fixated on the opened window with a cryptic darkness shadows his princely features, but it disappears when he shifts his gaze to the entire fraternity, his gaze alone that is enough to assert dominance over them, especially since he is the oldest out of the four leaders by a year. “It doesn’t matter whether or not you're on time for the meeting. Devil’s Night is far from over, and it’ll only be over until I say so.”
“Classic Heeseung. Playing favourites when it comes to—" Jay grunts at the impact of being elbowed by Sunghoon, who has taken a seat next to him, but he remains disgruntled, casting a glare at the latter.
Heeseung disregards Jay’s remarks as he saunters towards the conference table, where there are ranges of knives displayed for any of their choosing. “Now that everyone is present, let’s begin the briefing. I want to start off by letting you know that the Devil’s Night you thought would be similar to the past years will be different tonight.” As expected, most of the knights erupt into murmurs, a blend of confusion and excitement. “For this year’s Devil’s Night, we're following the tradition of preying whoever you choose to prey on. They’re yours for taking, no matter the duration you want them to be in your possession. They’re yours and yours alone. No exchanging of prey is allowed, and no stealing of prey.”
The knights express their contentment and anticipation, evidently prepared to kickstart in reigning terror on the oblivious crowd in a jovial element currently. But they lower their volume when Sunghoon raises his hand to speak up. “Let’s not forget that we have another goal in mind: Kim Namgil and his crewmates.” Sunghoon looks over to the knights of each house, specifically his. “Do not forget to alert us if there are any movements from them, and remember that they’re ours to deal with.”
“Remember that your main goal is to wreak havoc and terror like you always do on Devil’s Night. Regarding the prey thing that I mentioned earlier, take it like it’s your reward for successfully becoming one of us.” Heeseung says with a smirk. “For those of you who are new recruits and this is your first ever Devil’s Night, the law enforcement should be the least of your worries, so don’t panic if you see a police car in town. They’re only here with the sole purpose of establishing the roadblocks to prevent our guests from escaping until Devil’s Night is over.”
“In short, you can do whatever the fuck you want for the next twelve hours.” Jake grins deviously with his hands clasped together. “In other words, unleash your inner devils like you always wanted.”
At once, an uproar emanates from the fraternity before Jay begins to dismiss them. “Don’t forget your masks and weapons!” He reminds them as they proceed to make their way out of the meeting room disorderly, eventually leaving the four leaders alone in the room — the very same leaders who have been successfully leading their respective houses with pride.
The notorious Devil’s Knights fraternity consists of four houses — North, South, East, and West — chosen names that were established way before their time. Each house has its own respective leader to oversee the houses, as there are more knights than two classes combined in each house. However, their goals are aligned. This has always been the system, as each year there are numerous new recruits, and they do have to dominate their respective territories on campus and even in town. Almost everyone is knowledgeable about and conscious of the notorious Devil's Knights. 
Redcrest University favours the Devil's Knights fervently, especially considering the fraternity was founded many years ago by four individuals whose blood now flows in the current leaders and the previous leaders before them, who are now affluent figures in high society today. Redcrest greatly benefits from Devil’s Knights for many years, including earning fame as it is ranked two in the Best Global University. Many speculated that Devil’s Knights may be a literal cult with an uncountable amount of graduated knights in all those years that are now scattered across the globe, some making their names in various industries, some working for the most powerful people on earth, some even earning seats in diplomacy, but one thing that remains indisputable is that with the depraved principles that had been instilled in them and how deviously smart they are academically, they could easily infiltrate their corruption into the system and reign over every corner of the globe. Or maybe they already have for a long time.
Aside from the deeper, darker part of their world, Devil’s Night is an annual tradition that has been going on since their founders’ times and happens on every Halloween. This tradition is also supported and endorsed by the mayor of Seoul and other influential figures that are highly regarded in the eyes of the government. Hence, there is no denying that by permitting Devil’s Night to be lawful on every Halloween, it proves that the government and its system have long since been corrupted.
All knights would gather in this specific meeting room for briefings and other important matters pertaining to the annual Devil’s Night content and planning, et cetera. However, there are some rooms that are restricted to any knights, be they lower or higher ranks, unless they are the leaders themselves. Furthermore, this very manor is officially owned by the four leaders, considering that it was those from the same bloodline as them whose blood runs deep in this very soil, the ones who invested and established the foundation of this manor, and many years later, the manor, including authority, has been bequeathed to the current leaders.
North: Sunghoon
South: Heeseung
East: Jake
West: Jay
These four powerful delinquents have proven their worth in many aspects of being the ideal Devil’s Knights and have successfully led their respective houses for the past years with their skills, and they were impressively the youngest leaders to have been appointed when they were just freshmen. Though they have different personalities, they get along well, considering that their fathers are best friends as well. But very few people know that they grew up together, and no one knows the burdens they each carry.
“So, I have something to share that might interest you, well, at least one of you.” Jake breaks the silence once the last few knights exit the room. His lips curl into a boyish grin. “Y/N is here; she’s actually here on Devil’s Night. I know, I couldn’t believe it either at first.”
Sunghoon raises his eyebrow inquisitively, feeling something so foreign burning in his chest that he immediately brushes it off. “You saw her?” He asks with disinterest while wearing a mask of indifference.
“I danced with her at the club.” Jake tells him smugly, his grin never faltering. “Even held her and felt so right in my arms. I couldn’t resist her after seeing how she looked like an absolute doll. A gorgeous angel in need of some company. Her friends probably ditched her.”
Sunghoon holds back a smirk from forming on his lips. For a moment, he thought that he might lose to Jake, but in actuality, the real winner is him, as he managed to taste you first and probably the only person to ever taste you.
For some reason, Jay’s body language shows interest in the description of you from the casanova’s mouth. “Let me have some fun with her first before the main event starts. I need to see her with my own eyes. No way am I missing out on a beauty like Y/N Kang, and it’s the Y/N Kang on Devil’s Night.”
Before Heeseung can say anything, one of the windows swings open, followed by an eerie howl, allowing the gust of wind to enter. The four leaders watch, completely unfazed by their dramatic entrance in a supposedly clandestine way, as a familiar figure wholly in familiar dark, practical clothing emerges as he climbs into the meeting room, followed by two figures that donned the same.
The three figures who have yet to make their identity known stand tall in their line of sight, and one of them even manages to tower over the four leaders. Simultaneously they proceed to remove their designated masks, now revealing their faces. Jake is the first person to greet them with a lopsided grin. They are known as the Devil’s Knights’ honorary members, above any lower and higher rank Knights, and they are only in their second year in Redcrest, skilful and perceptive sophomores more than any of their peers. Every Knight knows that these three are appointed to be leaders next year once the four current leaders step down and graduate from the university. Kim Sunoo, Yang Jungwon, and Nishimura Riki.
“We’ve already covered all the perimeters as you ordered. The roadblocks have been established too, and our team did their part to warn the people in town that are not part of the Devil’s Night’s guests to stay indoors.” Jungwon informs them, speaking like a true leader, as the ambience he exudes makes the current leaders feel a sense of pride.
“Spit it out.” Sunghoon says as he eyes Sunoo knowingly, causing the latter to roll his eyes at him. “Roll your eyes at me again and they’ll fall out. I can’t even count how many times I let you get away with this attitude of yours.”
“I was about to say it, but then you just made me not want to say it anymore.” Sunoo scoffs, albeit he is merely being playful, but his remark is not appreciated by the four leaders, who deadpan at him, causing him to sigh. “Alright, fine. Kim Namgil managed to sneak into our grounds with the rest of his crewmates, but we can easily overpower them. Oh, and Riki managed to place a tracking device on their vehicle, so it’s easier to track wherever they go.” Sunoo pats Riki on the shoulder with a proud smile while the latter grunts from the impact, his face a cold mask of nonchalance. 
“I don’t even want to ask what Namgil did to piss you off to a certain degree until you want to hunt him down.” Jungwon mutters, pausing briefly before continuing with a not-so-discreet guile. “So what did he do, anyway?”
“Simply put, he broke one of our rules.” Jay’s answer is short and comprehensible, yet the three musketeers are sharp enough to notice that there is actually more than what they let on, but they choose the safer ground instead, knowing that as much as the current leaders adore them in their own way, even they know that there are lines not to be crossed.
“So is Namgil the main hunt for this year’s Devil’s Night?” Sunoo asks with genuine curiosity. “Just asking since you guys were hell-bent on finding him for 2 years after he got transferred to another uni. It makes sense that he’s the main hunt.”
“No.” Heeseung���s voice is firm with conviction, drawing their attention to him with collective confusion. A smirk touches his lips while his eyes darken with primal danger. “Our main hunt is Y/N Kang.”
“Oh, yeah, I saw her, and she looks like an absolute darling—Wait, what?!” Sunoo looks puzzled and borderline horrified. “Out of all people? I’m begging you, just this once, please don’t kill her. She’s too pretty to be killed. I haven’t even gotten her to be my friend yet!”
“Sunoo.” Jungwon rolls his eyes at his best friend’s theatrics, whereas Riki gives him a side eye.
“No, Sunoo, we’re not killing her, and we have no intention to.” Heeseung heaves a sigh, tempted to rub his temple at the younger’s theatrics. “But we’ve decided that she’s our prey for the night.”
“You mean you decided.” Jake corrects him, his lips downturned into a frown because as much as he likes the idea of hunting you, he feels the same confusion as the other two. “Why Y/N, specifically?”
Heeseung doesn’t answer; instead, his smirk widens while the familiar cryptic danger shadows his features once more as he looks at the three leaders. “I trust that there are no objections from you, so you can do whatever you want with our prey, but do not in any way harm her that might put her life at risk.” He shifts his eyes to the three sophomores. “You may scare our prey and offer us any aid, but you are not allowed to make her your prey.”
“Roger that, bossman.” Jungwon salutes to Heeseung before signalling Riki and Sunoo to leave. The leaders do not expect anything less when the three proceed to jump over the window instead of using the door to leave like any normal human would.
“Don’t forget to inform your respective house members to steer clear of Y/N. But remember this, she may be your prey and yours to claim—" There is an undercurrent of warning and predatory claim in his voice as he nearly growls out his words to them while his eyes darken. “But at the end of the night, she’s mine.” The three exchange looks of understanding because somehow, they perfectly understand what he meant.
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You hate to admit it, but you are falling deep into the abysmal depths of toxicity faster than you planned. What was once the intention to taste a minuscule fragment of Halloween fun turns into something that has consumed you completely, rendering you addicted to whatever sorcery they put in their beverages and music. 
As you are free from those little voices in your head that often judge anyone that isn’t suited to your moral compass, you can definitely understand the rationale of those who had been to Devil’s Night and the ones who were vocally hyped for Devil’s Night. The content and activities being hosted here are so diverse that no one can simply miss out on anything. Well, you did miss out on the famous cliché game of truth or dare, not that it bothered you.
Presently, you and your group of friends, including Winter, Giselle, and the others, are making your way back to the backyard once more after getting some refreshments earlier, needing some respite after going nearly all out for the first rave. With the drinks you ingested that recharged you and your friends, all of you decided to participate in the second rave, and according to them, it is the last rave of the night. But you have no idea what happens after, and your friends don’t either. Nevertheless, you are looking forward to having more fun with your friends, marking this the most memorable night you ever had.
The B-stage in the backyard is bigger than the one inside the manor at the supposedly club room, where you and Jake happened, and the crowd is now tenfold compared to the previous rave, which enlivened the night at its peak while the ambience is vibrantly teeming with the pink and purple LEDs flashing across the sea of crowds and into the starless sky. The bass-boosted music of Rihanna’s ‘S & M’ reverberates throughout the expanse of the manor and possibly even further, and you wonder if the residents in the same town do complain about the noise.
“Look at Y/N go!” Giselle’s remarks draw attention from your other friends to you, watching you in a vivacious element as you flaunt your moves alongside Chaewon, having long since let go of your inhibitions. Your face is now devoid of the white masquerade mask, not remembering where you threw it haphazardly. You’re not even sure if you are dancing with your cunty bob friend or grinding against some stranger, lacking spatial awareness.
“Okay! I need a break!” Chaewon laughs out, halting her movements, but you pout your lips at her, to which she giggles and pecks your cheek. “Sorry, babe, but you’re on your own now. Anyone want to head back to get some refreshments with me?”
A few of your friends do, and they proceed to depart from the bustling crowd as they follow Chaewon while the rest are either too drunk to notice that they are apart from each other or getting immersed in the upbeat music. Eventually, you blend into the crowd, making it impossible for your best friends to find you in this sea of people.
The thought of other warm, sweaty bodies coming into contact with yours doesn’t bother you in the slightest. There is a wild look in your eyes as you dance with a random couple, giggling and succumbing to the exhilaration brimming in your veins like white-hot fire; your body moves with fluidity to the pulsating beat of the music.
Being completely absorbed in the music, you fail to heed the incoming predator, who has his eyes fixated on you as soon as he manages to find the beauty that was described in detail once more from his best friend. Besides, it’s nearly impossible to look away from you even just for a second, because damn, you got him in some sort of spellbind. Just as he expects, you accidentally bump into him from behind, but just as you are about to turn around, his firm hands grip your waist as he pulls you back to him, allowing your back to hit his solid chest.
For a moment, your lips curl into a smile, a familiar giddiness bubbling in your chest while a sense of déjà vu hits you. “He’s right. You look so fucking gorgeous, like a doll, my doll for the night and many more to come.” His hot breath fans the shell of your earlobe while everything in the moment reminds you of Jake earlier, but this time, his touch has a hint of roughness, whereas there was gentleness in Jake’s, causing you to falter. “Now, why did you stop, babydoll? It’s just me. Don’t tell me you don’t recognise me.” He hums seductively while you can feel the vibration from his chest.
“Jay.” You breathe out as you finally recognise his voice in the haze of your mind. His hands remain on your waist, sending you goosebumps with the sensation of his warmth and danger as your primal instincts manage to get a hold of you to evade him, but it just feels so right to be close to him.
“Hey, baby.” Jay greets you affectionately, causing you to nearly melt against him, but the undertone of deceit in his way of affection is not lost on you, and yet you feel tempted to bare your soul to him with your head resting on his dependent shoulder. You tilt your head to an angle where his sharp jawline and handsome side profile greet you. Your eyes flicker to his pink lips, finding the silver ring hooked around his lower lip in the corner an attractive look on him. Your heart flutters when he gazes at you, his head angling in a way that his nose brushes against yours as he leans down.
Just when you are prepared for his lips to meet yours, he grabs your hand before raising it to give a sensual kiss on the back of your hand. “Don’t get all weak on me now, babydoll. You still have to show me your moves.” The signature smirk on his handsome face is all it takes for you to comply with his command, and you know better than to refuse him.
So you pull away from his warm embrace as soon as you feel his arms loosening around you. Like a natural, you immediately grasp onto the upbeat rhythm that pulsates through your body, allowing it to influence the alluring sway of your body, intentionally enticing the very man you were supposed to evade as his dark eyes roam around you with an explicit desire, almost ravenous, almost as if he wants you — one of the Devil’s Knights’ leaders wants you.
The realisation that this man, who wields the corruptive kind of power, is in fact a Devil’s Knights’ leader nearly has you faltering, but he deprives you of the chance to rethink your choices when he pulls you by the waist with a hint of roughness before taking you by complete surprise as he slams his lips into yours, kissing you with a sense of urgency. You moan airily into his mouth as he practically devours your lips with raw passion; your hands go winding in his hair while his hands are all over you, insatiable.
Jay groans lowly into your mouth as your fingers give a pleasurable tug on his strands. He knows that he should not be kissing you first, not when Heeseung hasn’t even yet, but time is running out, and he couldn’t just leave for his post without having a taste of your luscious lips. He smirks against your lips, feeling you arching your body into him and attempting to grind against him not-so-discreetly. He fucking loves it when you are being cutely desperate for relief.
Eventually, Jay breaks the liplock, allowing you a brief moment of respite, only for him to turn you around until your back hits his chest again, swaying to the music with you audaciously grinding your ass against his really prominent bulge, eliciting an attractive low groan from him at the sensation while you continue to tease him. A giggle leaves your lips upon feeling his breath tickling your skin when he buries his head into the curve of your neck. Instinctively, your hand ascends to brush your fingers through his soft strands, getting intoxicatingly immersed in the heat of the moment.
“Fuck, babydoll. I should’ve brought you home with me sooner. We could've had so much fun," Jay murmurs near your ear before he places a sensual kiss on your pulse, and just like with Jake, you feel the need to purr at his relentless affection over you. “The things I want to do to you right now.” He whispers in your ear huskily, igniting a pool of desire in your lower tummy. “But duty calls. I’ll see you later, baby.”
You frown at the loss of his touch and warmth. “Jay, don’t leave─” But as you turn around, Jay disappears as though he never existed, leaving you high and dry just like Jake did. Birds of a feather flock together indeed. You scoff in disbelief with the need pooling in your abate. 
“Y/N, for the love of God, do not ever disappear like that again! You got me so worried!” Wonyoung’s exclamation can easily be heard over the commotion as soon as you spot her just a few meters away from you.
Your face twists into a grimace at how visible the annoyance and frustration written on her face is, but you feel unease at the way her eyes hold a blend of apprehension and panic. Soon, you spot Karina and Yunjin gravitating towards you with the same apprehension on their faces. Just like that, you become conscious of your primal instincts, warning you that something big is about to happen and it is inevitable. You take a step forward to your best friends, but the music instantly dies out while the LEDs that were previously in motion go still in the air, eliciting confusion and anger from the crowd.
“What’s happening?” “Hey, DJ! We weren’t finished raving!” You hear commotions around you, making your already pounding head spin lightly. But what happens next throws you completely off guard, and subsequently, you become fully sober miraculously.
The deafening sound of a siren rings through your ears, which is akin to the purge, shattering the night of riotous jollity instantaneously. Despite the perpetual blaring siren, you can discern a dissatisfactory chorus of groans and clamours amongst the crowd. The LEDs begin to dim before it changes into crimson, but you manage to catch glimpses of your friends' contortions with confusion and collective percipience.
Before you can open your mouth to speak with the intention to enquire, a stentorian voice that belongs to a female startles you, as it is resounding enough for you to absorb her emphatic words into your mind despite the ongoing siren in the background.
"Announcing the commencement of the annual devil's night sanctioned by the mayor of Seoul. Weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorised for use during Devil's Night. All other weapons are restricted. Commencing at the siren, any and all crimes, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours. Blessed be the four leaders of Devil's Knights."
At once, the tumultuous crowd begins to disperse in a haphazard manner, and some can be seen running as though they are being hunted down by unknown sources. Despite the fear in their contortion, you can't help but notice the glimpses of excitement and an eccentric ambience of thrill that pervade the haunting atmosphere that you find perplexingly odd.
Apprehension courses through your veins while your heart is palpitating wildly. You swear you can hear your pulse drumming loudly in your ears. In the midst of the ambiguity, your intuition is sending you a message that what may escalate next is not something you expected on a purported Halloween night routine, or rather, assumed.
"Ouch! Hey!" Annoyance bubbles within you upon having been shoved roughly by some people, resulting in you nearly plummeting to the ground if it weren’t for Yunjin, who swiftly and steadily supports you as she holds you against her.
"What is going on?" You ask in a demand, pure confusion reflecting in your eyes. You notice how Yunjin looks oddly collected, but as soon as her gaze runs over you, her eyebrows pull together before a low cuss is elicited from her. “Yunjin, nothing bad is going to happen, right? You promised.” You accuse weakly, your voice trembling as fear has you in a tight grip.
"I told you that it was a bad idea for her to come along!" Wonyoung startles you greatly with how she sounds genuinely irate, but when you take a glance at your gorgeous mermaid goddess, your stomach sinks even deeper at the apparent distress written across her delicate features. "We need to get her out of here before any of the knight members get to her, or any of us, for that matter! We survived Devil’s Night last year and the year before that, so there is no way we’re not surviving this year either!"
Yunjin clenches her jaw, her hazel eyes flashing brief annoyance. “Not now, Vick! You can be mad at me once we find someplace safe.”
“What we actually need is to get out of here!” Wonyoung retorts with vehemence before grabbing your wrist in a tight grip, causing you to wince. “Oh, and Jen? You’re to be blamed if anything happens to Y/N.” The irate mermaid reminds the disbelieving cowboy.
"Let’s argue a little less and find our way out of here?!” Karina raises her voice over the cacophony of chaos, her face displaying sheer annoyance for the two glaring women. “We have approximately five minutes to get the hell out of here!"
"It's no use even if we try to escape. By now, the whole town is scattered with their devil’s lackeys." Yunjin sighs in frustration, running her fingers through her red-dyed hair. "They're not letting us out until it's over. You know that."
"I don't care." Wonyoung snaps at Yunjin, making you grumble moodily as she begins to pull you with her with force. "We will find a way to get out of here, even if it means that I have to use violence to fight off the knight members myself."
"I don't freaking get it!" You exclaim, finally voicing out the tumult of chaos in your head, your eyes darting between your best friends in a frantic motion. “I just don’t get why we’re supposed to be running for our lives as if danger really is heading towards us like you can’t possibly be serious.” Denial shines through in the sarcasm of your chuckles.
“What part of it don’t you understand? The announcer just stated that any and all crimes, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours! And it’s not just anyone committing those crimes, but it’s the whole of Devil’s Knights!” Karina exclaims, displaying her exasperation. “So unless you want to get attacked by them, you better get your ass moving—”
The blasting sound of a shotgun pierces through the air, shocking you to a higher degree that has your entire body paralysed, but with a forceful tug on your arm, you find yourself being dragged by Wonyoung, with Yunjin and Karina following closely in haste. Your eyes widen at the sight of raw brutality that you manage to witness, weapons being utilised and blood spilling as a result, uncertain whether dead or alive but with the screams of terror and agony, you fear the worst.
In the pursuit of your only possible ride of escape, Karina’s car, some of the notorious knights reign terror on your best friends, even attempting to attack them with the weapons they wield, and thankfully, the girls manage to evade them. But you notice how those same knights seem to be avoiding you, as though you are invisible in their eyes. Still, they bring out the screams of fright from you with tears prickling in your eyes.
By the time you have arrived at the parking lot, your eyes widen in horror at the gruesome sight of two knights displaying violence upon a student who, you presume, attends the same university as you, soaked in his own blood as he makes a pitying effort to crawl away from them, his face looking slightly distorted. In the way they are jeering and taking cruel delight in diminishing his life, you wonder if the devil’s knights kill for fun or do they have personal vendettas against the ones that they’re after. 
"Come on!" Karina shouts, making you snap out of it. You head straight for the passenger door and throw yourself onto the seat before closing the door and locking it. You try to focus on what matters first now, but when you do, you struggle to buckle up safely with your trembling hands.
“Seatbelts.” Wonyoung reminds sternly from the backseat with Yunjin, totally not helping you as you feel the weight of pressure from everything pressing you down, causing you to panic while your chest feels painfully tight. “Y/N! Seatbelt, now!”
“I’m trying, damn it! Stop being such a mom!" You cry out angrily, gritting your teeth in frustration at your uncooperative limbs. From the corner of your eye, an imminent danger heads for the car, eliciting a shriek from you before you look at Karina frantically, who has just started the ignition of the vehicle. “Drive!”
As soon as you yell, there is a loud knock on the window next to you, prompting you and the girls to see a Devil’s Knight holding a golf stick. You automatically duck as you protect your head with your hands just when he raises his golf stick and swings to the same window, causing it to finally shatter. The girls and you scream as he intends to repeat his action to completely shatter the entire window, but Karina immediately slams her foot on the pedal gas, prompting the vehicle to accelerate forward. No doubt if Karina hadn’t done that sooner, that knight could’ve easily reached out for you.
You never once doubt Karina’s driving, but as she is driving at an alarming speed while expertly avoiding other vehicles and people on the road ahead, you fear that you might get into a car accident instead of being a victim to any Devil’s Knight.
Your heart remains pounding hard in your chest that feels tight from the prior hysteria. You don’t bother to buckle up safely, only depending on your fingers to hold on tight to the handle above the glassless window. When you scan the road ahead, you squint your eyes to get a better look before noticing stouts of red barriers arrayed by the exit of the road alongside three policemen leisuring on the other side of it. 
“Shit! Not the fucking roadblock!” Karina exclaims annoyedly as she steps on the pedal brake hard, putting the vehicle into an abrupt stop that has all of you nearly lurching forward. Their heads snap to you as you open the door. “Y/N! What are you—"
But you are too focused on the new hope that ignites in your chest as you rush towards the policemen. “Excuse me, Sirs?!” They stop whatever they’re doing, turning to you with an unsettling calmness at your frantic display. “We really need to get out of here. They’re committing atrocious crimes and—” You cease your pleading as soon as a smirk forms on one of their faces.
“Sorry, honey. We can’t let you go out until Devil’s Night is over.” The policeman says, his nonchalance and words diminishing all hope in you.
“Please! You can’t do this!” You plead again, ignoring your friends’ calling to you. “You’re supposed to be protecting us! You people pledged to protect us from harm!” But your plea falls deaf to their ear as they exchange words with chuckles that sound mocking to you.
Your once pleading countenance now displays a glaring resentment at the corruption that influences even the law enforcement. You turn on your heels, prepared to head back into the car, but you falter just slightly when four bikers emerge from around the corner, speeding towards where you are with their exhausts blaring loudly as they reverberate throughout the desolate street. 
For a moment, you think that they are the guests just like you and your friends, but your primal instinct is on high alert, prompting you to rush back into the car while your friends stare at you with confusion. “Go!” You scream at Karina as soon as you slam the door shut, and the latter complies with your hysterical command.
Karina drives around the other way, steering the wheel expertly before she increases the acceleration upon noticing four mysterious bikers tailing them not far behind. “Who the hell are they?!” She exclaims, but her focus on the road as well as multitasking in operating the vehicle is immaculate, nearly convincing you that she might be an undercover street racer.
“They’re the leaders!” Yunjin answers as she still looks over her shoulder. “No idea why they’re after us— did any of you girls piss them off?!”
“How were you able to recognise them while we don’t?” Wonyoung shoots her a bizarre stare, but the latter doesn’t meet her eyes.
“My cousin’s motorbike.” Yunjin simply says, eliciting gasps from Karina and Wonyoung. “He likes to announce his dramatic arrival right outside of the main family’s villa whenever our families decide to host a get-together barbecue party.” She adds, rolling her eyes at the recollection.
“This whole time, you had a cousin?! And he’s one of the leaders?!” Karina blanches, getting distracted from the road that she nearly drives onto the pavement instead before regaining firm control of the steering wheel. “And you didn’t even think to let us know?!”
“We don’t like people to know that we’re related.” You hear Yunjin say unapologetically while you are occupied by other things, your eyes staring in the side-view mirror, watching two bikers getting alarmingly closer to the car, and yet you feel inclined to admire how criminally hot the bikers actually are in spite of their obscure identity. 
“Can you, I don’t know, maybe tell your cousin to stop chasing us?!” Wonyoung’s sarcasm goes unappreciated as it earns her a glare from Yunjin.
“What makes you think that he’d listen to me?! The asshole hates my guts!” 
Your head begins to throb at their incessant screaming and petty disagreements, and you divert your glare to them. “None of this is helping us to outrun them!”
“Buckle up, then, ladies.” Karina instantly proves you wrong as she picks up velocity, and before you know it, your body nearly lurches forward at the precipitated speed while adrenaline rushes in your veins. “Ha! So long, devil suckers!” She lets out a chortle after having successfully put a significant distance away from them before eventually leaving them in the dust.
But the victory is short-lived when the vehicle loses its velocity, slowing down unsteadily before Karina decides to step on the pedal brake, putting her unstable car to a final stop. At once, a series of profanities emit from your best friends. With the ignition still active, Karina presses her foot on the gas pedal, making an attempt, but her car remains stagnant.
“Something’s wrong with the tyres.” Karina comments as she unbuckles her seatbelt before exiting the vehicle, with the rest of you following suit wordlessly. “What the hell? The tyres got punctured!” The apparent anger in her voice prompts you to move over to the other side of the car before catching sight of Karina crouching down as she examines the punctured tyre with the flashlight on the back of her phone. “How the fuck did this happen?!”
“I think we have our answer to that, girls. Look.” Wonyoung’s remark draws all of your attention, her finger pointing out the road behind before you look over to see galvanised nails being scattered all over the road. “This is obviously part of their sick plan.”
“So what’s our plan, then?” Karina asks with unconcealing annoyance, exasperated by the current situation. “Either way, we’re probably gonna get fucked over if we don’t at least get out of this part of town.” As soon as she says that, the familiar exhausts blaring faintly alarms you.
“We find a place to hide until we’re sure enough that they’re completely gone. If they manage to find us, we separate and run like hell.” Yunjin suggests, her tone indicating finality that nudges you and the others to advance, silence settling over your group as you walk side by side.
The view in front of you is an eerie tableau of a desolate district with only the source of light deriving from the moon above, barren of any life form despite the array of building structures on each side, not even a single vehicle in sight. Your eyes glance over at an apartment-like building, observing how all the curtains in every unit have been drawn close. It is almost as if every resident in the building is laying low, choosing not to be seen on this wicked night and hiding in the safe confines of their home. You’re almost jealous of them.
“Hey, I think we should—” Wonyoung is cut off by the distinct blaring exhausts that sound as if they are near the district where you are at while you look around you to spot any of the four bikers. “We need to find a place to hide, now!”
“Over there!” Yunjin points her acrylic finger to the three-story villa that looks evidently abandoned with its skeletal structure. Without waiting for your responses, she makes a run for it first, and the three of you follow suit with your heels producing different clacking noises on the pavement.
Your heart pumps harder as the sound of their exhausts sounds as if they are near, propelling you to put more energy into your speed before you finally make it past the gate, but you don’t falter as you head towards the opened door where Wonyoung is waiting and beckoning you to hurry. Once you enter, Wonyoung pushes the door firmly closed.
“Seriously, Jen? You thought that hiding in a creepy abandoned villa with no lights was the better option?” Karina whines to the cowgirl while you slowly make your way over to them, your calves muscles burning from the running.
Yunjin brings out her phone to use it as a flashlight. “It’s either a creepy abandoned villa or surrendering yourself to them. Besides, they sounded close. Now stop your whining, or they’ll hear us.” She hisses lowly at the pouty Catwoman.
You don’t bother taking out your phone to use it as a flashlight since Wonyoung has already done the same as Yunjin, finding yourself gravitating closer to her. Soon, your eyes manage to adapt to the darkness, with the moon hanging outside aiding in its light to stream into the stained, broken windows. As your group slowly advances, you take your time to observe every inch, and the condition of this villa looks beyond saving, which is a pity to you because you are certain that this villa was once beautiful.
“Did you girls hear that?” Wonyoung asks in a hushed tone, stopping dead in her tracks, her face showing no traces of frivolity, but the concern in her eye is perceptible.
“Stop trying to scare us, Vicky Jang!” Karina nearly snaps, but the fear is palpable in the tremor of her voice.
“No, seriously. Listen.” Wonyoung instructs with a strong emphasis, leaving you and the other two no choice but to listen, and you listen carefully until you finally hear voices sounding frantic in pleas. “It’s coming from upstairs!”
Wonyoung bolts for the massive flight of stairs before the three of you follow after her, expressing none of the complaints and protests; even Karina remains lip-tight because those voices sounded like they were calling for help.
You ignore the burning sensation returning to your calves as you push yourself to make it to the final flight of stairs before finally reaching the second floor, and this time, your group is able to hear the screams of help clearer. You jog after Wonyoung and Yunjin as they guide you and Karina towards the source.
“Oh my God! Liz?! Rei?!” Wonyoung exclaims in horror, causing your eyes to widen at the mention of your friends before you finally enter what looks like a desolate library. Your eyes immediately land on ten girls, two of whom are part of your circle of friends, seated in a circle with their backs facing each other, but what shocks you is the tear-stricken look on their countenances with some bruises that look fresh.
Sobs and hiccups can be heard from the ten ladies. Some are stuffed with cloth in their mouths, but all of them have their hands and feet tied by cable ties that seem to mar their skin. Clearly, they have been held hostage, but why? And who?
“It’s a good thing that I brought pocket knives.” Karina takes out three pocket knives from her mini leg bag before passing two each to Wonyoung and Yunjin while you offer your assistance to those with cloth stuffed in their mouths.
“We didn’t do anything at all.” Liz sobs out to Wonyoung while the latter steadily yet quickly cuts the cable ties that bound the blonde’s limbs. “We were trying to escape and find someplace to hide, but we encountered these guys, and the masks they wore were different from devil’s knights.”
“They attacked us and brought us here, told us that we were hostages until their target got alerted, which made no sense!” Rei continues to rant in a rage despite the tears staining her cheeks.
“We should hurry to leave! They left not too long ago, but they’re coming back!” One of the girls, who has a nasty gash on her arm, urges, her voice carrying a sense of urgency and fear. “They said they’re going to kill us if the leaders didn’t rescue us by the time they came back!”
“What makes you think that the leaders would rescue you? The same heartless leaders who destroy everything in their path, especially on Devil’s Night?” Karina asks as she raises her eyebrow at the fearful girl, her tone holding a bit of humour. “And who is this ‘they’?”
“He said his name was Namgil.” Another girl answers, her voice timid. “And there were more of them compared to us combined.”
“Let’s get going, then.” Yunjin announces firmly; her confidence seems to allay the girls. “Grab any item that you can use as a weapon to protect yourself before we head out of here.” The girls waste no time in scurrying as they search for potential weapons around them, including you.
“Y/N!” A girl, who you recognise is in the same major as you, calls out for you just aisles away from where you are, her back facing the ominous shadow of shelves. She holds up a sharp wood while the other is occupied with the same type of wood. “Do you need—”
Before she can finish her sentence, a sickening sound of flesh being stabbed can be heard while a scream instantly tears from your throat, watching as she splutters crimson, having been stabbed with the pointed blade protruding from her stomach. She looks at you with glassy eyes while you watch tearfully in horror as the life in those eyes slowly diminishes before her body is being thrust forward, as though she is being pushed by someone, falling to the ground with a loud thud, completely lifeless.
At once, screams and cries emit from the rest of the girls upon having to watch the murder happen in real time, but they are easily overpowered by an unrecognisable voice that belongs to a man, deep and mocking. “And here I thought the infamous bastards had been the ones to rescue the girls.”
The girls collectively make an attempt to run, but masked men mysteriously emerge from the shadows around you, wielding different kinds of weapons. You shriek and duck your head as soon as one of them swings a metal bat at you. Your worry grows as you hear your best friends fighting off and throwing curses at their aggressors, but you are too busy saving yourself to even help them. But your lacking skills in combat lead you to be captured by one, your arms being twisted behind you as he holds you deadly tight against him while his blade comes in contact with your neck.
“Kim Namgil? What the fuck? I thought you were gone for good!” Yunjin snarls coldly as soon as the previous man who spoke removes his mask. She has had enough of her aggressor before doing an effective roundhouse kick to him in the head, successfully knocking him out cold. 
“To simply put, I’m here for revenge, aside from honouring someone else’s revenge, but you don’t need to know.” You watch as Namgil toys with his butcher knife, a smirk forming on his lips while his eyes remain fixated on Yunjin. “Tell me, is your dear cousin doing well?”
Yunjin looks more furious than she was previously. “How the fuck did you know he’s my cousin?!”
“Heard from a pretty little birdie, but she’s dead now, thanks to your cousin and his bastard line of friends.” Namgil’s smirk drops and is replaced by a nasty snarl. “I’ll kill him; I’ll kill them all, and you won’t even be there to deliver your goodbyes to him because you won’t be alive by then.”
You become both intrigued and shocked at the sheer protectiveness in your best friend’s countenance while you momentarily forget about being held at a knifepoint. “I’ll kill you before you even get the chance to lay a finger on him!” She yells at him, but she instantly gets knocked down by another attacker while you scream her name worriedly.
“Boss.” Your attacker calls out, drawing Namgil’s attention, who instantly has his eyes fixated on your figure. “Those bastards won’t be coming. We should still take one of these girls as a hostage.”
“You’re right. We do only need one.” Namgil says with a sickening delight in his tone while he roams his eyes all over you, recognition glinting in his dark eyes. You struggle in your attacker’s arm, wanting to get away as Namgil gets closer, but you can only feel the prickling pain of the blade in your skin. “We haven’t met, but I know you. The renowned church girl, Y/N. You’re close with Jake, right?”
“What?” Confusion written across your features despite the fear that is pressing you down when he uses the tip of his butcher knife to trace down your sternum tantalisingly. “I don’t know what you’re on about, but I’m not, and I was never close with Jake.”
The smile on his lips disappears just the way his personality takes a turn, and in a blink of an eye, he has you in his bruising grip, glaring into your eyes as he holds you close. “Don’t fucking lie to me! I remember that I saw you and him before!”
You don’t bother to hide your disgust as his breath hits you in the face. “That was probably back in freshman year, which was years ago. Are you sure you’re living in the correct timeline now?” You accidentally blurt out a sarcastic remark, being driven by the simmering adrenaline in evading your new aggressor. 
Namgil smacks you in the face, sending your head flying sideways from the impact. You barely make a run past him when he grabs you by the arm again, which you are sure is bruised, before dragging you with him. “Kill and dispose of the rest. We’re taking this one as our hostage instead.” He announces loudly to his men, some of whom are still attacking the girls.
Namgil rids you of the opportunity to call and look over to check on your girls when he hastily drags you out of the library, rendering you worried and helpless before you decide to pray silently for your girls to be safe and win against their oppressors. “This is great! Now that I have you instead, they’re going to come and rescue you.”
“You’re wrong.” You manage to utter in between light pants, having to keep up with his pace as you have finally reached the first floor. You spot two of his men waiting for him. “They’re not going to save me. You’re making a big mistake.”
“Then I’ll just have to kill you, right after I use your body for my pleasure.” Namgil whispers in your ear, rendering you completely revolted at the idea of him doing a despicable act to you. “Or better yet, I fuck you now and let my boys have their turn before we kill you slowly and painfully in front of those bastards.”
Without thinking twice, you step on his foot hard with the heel of your boot, hearing a crack before you find yourself getting pushed by him, resulting in you falling to the ground while his screams of agony sound like a delight to you. You attempt to get up, but Namgil is quick to get you on your back with his fingers curled around your neck in a deadly manner, depriving you of oxygen. “You fucking bitch! I’m going to kill—"
“I thought you knew better than to mess with someone else’s prey, let alone our prey.” A very familiar voice speaks up, but his voice sounds deeper than you had heard him. “But your mistake is the moment you entered our zone where you were not welcomed anymore.”
You expect more talking, but instead, you hear a commotion involving a series of screams of agony and cusses. You inhale loudly as soon as someone has pulled him off you, coughing out from getting your windpipe nearly crushed before you attempt to raise your body vertically, but you falter when a tall figure looms over you, prompting you to look up for your eyes to meet a pair of black sockets as his identity is obscured by a white mask with a horizontal red stripe. He is adorned in all black with a vest and a hoodie covering his head.
Without a word, the mysterious man, who you call 'White’ in your head, helps you to get back on your feet, feeling how gentle he is with you despite the firm grip to steady you. Your eyes never stray from him as he caresses your neck gently with his gloved fingers. “You’re hurt.” His voice, his very familiar voice, causes your eyes to widen. “Are you feeling fine, my beloved?”
“I-I’m okay.” You stammer, flustered by the endearment when you should be fearful of him as he wields a knife in his other hand. Though his demeanour is gentle and his voice holds a familiar mellow that allays your nerves, you heed your primal instinct to evade him. “I need to go—”
His arm wraps around your waist faster than you can comprehend, locking you in his possession while you can feel his body heat. “There’s no rush in going anywhere, love. Besides, wouldn’t you like to watch the bastard be beaten to death?” You can imagine him smirking while there is a sickening glee in his tone.
You find yourself going speechless when his fingers grip your chin firmly and tilt your head up, the gesture sending flutters to your heart, before he turns your head to the side, only for you to be stricken by horror at the spectacle of savagery. “I don’t like this.” You tell him shakily, feeling sick in the stomach upon seeing one of Namgil’s men, whose head is nearly mangled from his lifeless body with blood pooling around him.
But White remains undeterred by your protest as he continues to force you to watch as the other three leaders are now circling an injured Namgil, like predators toying with their prey before devouring it. “Shhh, it’s alright, love.” He whispers in your ear rather affectionately. “Don’t feel bad for him. He deserves it.”
It isn’t that you feel bad for the death that undoubtedly awaits Namgil, but you just simply lack the tolerance to watch such gruesome gore that is happening in real life. Your whole body trembles while tears fill your waterline as one of the leaders in a red mask swings the metal baseball bat to Namgil’s head, eliciting a loud, sickening crack.
“You fucking dared to touch her?!” Red growls out as he grasps the metal baseball bat that is tainted with Namgil’s blood, allowing the one in a grey mask, who is holding Namgil’s butcher knife, his turn to wreak violence on him. “You deserve to die a slow, painful death, Namgil, not just for touching what’s ours, but for what happened three years ago.”
You hear Namgil attempting to speak, but he can only produce gurgling sounds. A horrifying gasp leaves your lips when Grey brings down the butcher knife to slice Namgil’s arm clean, tearing screams of agony from him while blood spluttered everywhere. You are finally able to look away, closing your eyes shut, but it feels useless when you can still hear his screams when Grey does the same action to his other arm, severing it.
“Alright, love, you’re trembling so much.” White heaves a sigh before looking down at you, his hand goes cupping your cheek while you flutter your glossy eyes open. “I can’t go anywhere until I’m done with him, so I need you to wait for us by the stairs, alright? I’m trusting you not to run away, beloved.” He says sternly that has you nodding your head quickly before he slowly releases you.
Your legs tremble beneath you as you walk towards the familiar massive flight of stairs, still feeling his eyes on you, but you are no fool to obey a killer’s order, and so you gather any remaining strength within you, including the willpower, before bolting off in another direction, your legs carrying you as fast as they can. You know that you’re in big trouble, but you’d rather risk your life running than surrender to any of them.
“Leave her be. We still haven’t finished our business here yet.” Black says to White upon hearing the latter sighing as he watches your figure getting smaller, but to be fair, he already expected you to grasp the opportunity to run.
You manage to climb over a window before resuming your pursuit of escaping your not-so-new predators, now running on the desolate road, hoping to at least find another place to hide. After what feels like forever, you cave into exhaustion as your lungs burn while your legs ache, and you swear you can feel blisters forming in your feet. You look over your shoulder, only to feel disheartened to see the distance between the villa and where you are at.
You refocus ahead, mentally prepared to run again, but your eyes immediately land on a car parked by the pavement curb. You briskly move forward, ignoring the pain your body is sending signals to your brain. You notice a figure seated in the driver’s seat, igniting hope in your chest.
“Excuse me, but could you—” You don’t get to finish your words when a scream escapes you, your eyes widening in horror at the sight of the now-dead girl with blood oozing from the nasty slit on her throat before you notice another dead body outside of the car on the other side, most likely her friend.
You force yourself to recover before using your might to get the dead body out of the car while goosebumps remain constant on your skin as you drag her over to the pavement where her dead friend is sprawled. You mutter a quick apology when you let her arm fall with a thud before you head over to the driver’s seat, only to get startled when an explosion erupts from afar, eliciting a gasp from you as the villa is being engulfed by ferocious, massive flames. 
Your ears pick up on the faint blaring exhausts, and your eyes are drawn to the four bikers emerging out of nowhere from afar, prompting you to get into the driver’s seat. You ignore the knife that is stained with blood resting on the passenger seat. Your hand instinctively switches on the ignition, heeding your muscle memory, but your brain goes short-circuited as the blaring exhausts get louder from behind.
“It’s okay, Y/N. Remember what Dad taught you.” You tell yourself in an attempt to calm your nerves and focus deeply, your hands gripping the steering wheel firmly. Though your father taught you how to drive many years ago, the memory remains fresh in your mind.
With a newfound confidence, you step on the correct pedal gas, propelling the vehicle to finally move off the curb before you increase your speed in the nick of time when the four bikers are nearing you. You continue to drive at an alarming speed, trying to outrun them, but you remain tailgated by them relentlessly. You nearly go unfocused, overwhelmed by the whirlwind of emotions within you, but you are quick to gain the momentum.
You change the direction of the steering wheel, now entering a new territory where there is what looks like a massive park ahead of you, and you pick up the velocity. Just as you nearly reach the park, you fail to realise an incoming vehicle heading towards you from the right. Your reaction delays when you are being pushed by another car that’s been wrecked before realising that it is being pushed by a black van, completely unrelenting.
But the macabre soon comes to a stop, giving you time to recover from the impact that thankfully did not give you any major injury. You unbuckle your seatbelt with trembling hands and grab the knife on instinct before kicking the door open and exiting the vehicle. Your legs nearly give out, your body aching all over, and you hold onto the car to steady yourself when your head throbs.
Despite knowing that you still need to escape, anger boils in your veins, wanting to give whoever drove that black van a piece of your mind, but the thought is immediately replaced by apprehension when footsteps approach you. You lift your head, only to be intimidated by the one adorning a black mask as he trudges towards you while his comrades are behind him, busily dismounting from their bikes.
You back away from him as he gets unrelenting, prepared to use the knife to protect yourself from him, only for him to expertly snatch the knife from you in a blink of an eye before he throws it away. You let out a yelp when he turns you around and pins you against the car, holding your hands in one strong grip before he bounds your hands together with a handcuff.
“Naughty, baby.” Black whispers huskily in your ear as he presses his body into yours, eliciting a gasp from you at his body warmth and familiar voice. “You made us chase you down twice. Do you like playing a chasing game with us?” He groans deeply, igniting a familiar desire in you before you feel his prominent bulge against your bum. “Because it’s turning me on more than anything, babydoll.”
“We’re sorry! We didn’t know it was her in the car!” You hear another familiar voice that compels you to look over to Jungwon, speaking to the other three leaders.
“In a way, at least we helped you in finally capturing her.” Sunoo adds, and that is when you also notice another brooding presence next to him, Riki. The three sophomores you know are a part of the fraternity.
“We got her. So let’s go, and stop rubbing your dick on her.” Grey snaps at Black, causing the latter to growl under his breath that has your womanhood responding instinctively to the attractive sound before he pulls you with him to head towards the park.
Your face flushes warmly when you are needed to walk past the other three leaders, because instead of feeling fearful, you feel a sense of diffidence as you can feel their eyes on your figure, making you self-conscious of how you look now, probably a mess. 
Black guides you deeper and deeper into the park while the others follow from behind. A confused frown touches your lips upon seeing an entrance gate before noticing a large number of people gathered inside for some reason, including the knight members. You shudder as you see different types of weapons in their grasp.
All the while, you have been trying your utmost to ignore the exertion in your legs and how your body still aches from the previous impact, springing tears in your eyes, but you suck it up, knowing that crying changes nothing. 
The sound of gates rattling open welcomes you before Black gently pushes you forward for you to start walking. Your eyes scan for familiar faces in the crowd, and miraculously, Wonyoung spots you instantly. “Y/N!”
“Wonyoung!” You reciprocate, feeling relief to see your best friend in one piece in spite of a few minor wounds on her skin. Just as you attempt to make a run towards her, Black tightens his grip on you. “Let go of me!”
The once-relieved expression is replaced by sheer anger on Wonyoung’s countenance before she marches forward. “You let her go this instant! Bastards!” But two knights immediately prevent her from going to you, eliciting curses from the enraged mermaid.
“You’re with us till the end, babydoll.” Black tells you with a lull as you remain looking at Wonyoung tearfully and helplessly before he guides you to where the other leaders are, facing the anxious crowd.
You manage to scan your surroundings briefly, noticing that they have brought you to a massive labyrinth garden, which appears to have a multitude of mazes that also seem endless. You also spot the divine palace in the background, but it looks further away from you than it looks. As soon as you arrive by the leaders’ side, you lower your gaze, hearing whispers among the crowd that pertains to you.
“Just so everyone is clear, you see this beautiful angel here?” White speaks up loudly as he grabs your arm and pulls you closer to his side while your cheeks continue to burn. “She’s our prey and ours alone to deal with. This is a warning to you if you dare to mess with what belongs to us.”
You so badly want to scream at him that you belong to no one, let alone to a man, but you remain silent with your head hanging low.
“Congratulations for making it to this stage.” Black speaks into the microphone this time, garnering everyone’s attention while you muster the courage to look up and stare at him. “However, Devil’s Night is far from over, and unfortunately, whether you’ll survive this stage or not depends on you.”
Black passes the microphone to Grey. “Yes, we’re aware that this segment is new for those of you who have been to the previous annual Devil’s Nights.” Grey explains. “For this stage, all of you will be given seven minutes to run and find the exit of the labyrinth garden.”
“Seven minutes?!” A guy from your cohort barks out his discontent. “Seven minutes is impossible for us to make our escape! Look at this maze! It’s fucking massive!”
“Too fucking bad.” You hear a smirk in Grey's tone. “So you better be running for your life once we hit the countdown.”
“And what happens if we don’t make it to the exit in time?” A girl asks loudly, and when you look at her, you frown at the discernible excitement in her eyes. Why is she excited when she should be apprehensive just as you are now?
It’s not just her, but the palpable tension of excitement emanating from some of the victims is hard for you to not notice. It is as if they have been expecting this adventurous thrill that may or may not cost their lives. Your face twists into a slight grimace, finding them odd and mental.
Red snatches the microphone from Grey. “For those of you who successfully manage to find the exit on time, congratulations in advance. You are free to leave and enjoy the rest of Devil’s Night with what we have to offer.” Red pauses before he lets out chuckles, a hint of darkness in his tone. “But for those who fail, you’re ours to kill, ours to toy with, ours to torture, and ours to fuck once we find you. We’ll do whatever we want to you. So when we tell you to run, you run and don’t ever fucking stop.”
You see White beckoning for the microphone, which Red passes to him. “As for our fellow knights, don’t forget to stake your claims if you haven’t. Remember to hunt down only what is yours.” As he says this, you can feel his gaze behind his mask fixed intently on your face. “The last part of the hunt starts now.”
On his command, everyone, with the exception of the knight members, erupts into squeals and tumultuous commotion as they make their way to the multitude of mazes haphazardly. You manage to catch Wonyoung looking at you ruefully before she heads in the same direction as some. You hold back your tears, watching as your best friends leave you behind with those in power.
“What are you going to do to me?” You manage to find your voice, albeit there is a palpable tremor of fear in your voice as you look at the four leaders with glossy eyes, and fuck, you look so pretty in tears as they marvel at your beauty. “Don’t kill me, please.” You beg softly, slowly backing away from White as he approaches you.
In one long stride, White grabs you by the waist and pulls you to him. You look up at him pleadingly, shivers running down your spine as he caresses your cheek lovingly. “We have no intention of killing you, my beloved.” He utters softly, a deception you become familiar with. “What’s the fun in killing you when we have better plans for you?”
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You remain seated on the ground with the cloth beneath you, a barrier preventing your bums from being poked uncomfortably by the turf’s texture, courtesy of Grey, who wordlessly gave you the cloth after seeing the look on your face as you stood on aching legs, responding with a grunt after you had given him a timid utterance of your gratitude.
You wait, and you have no idea what you are waiting for, waiting anxiously as you observe the four leaders ambulating every so often, but not once did one of them ever reveal even a glimpse of their faces, though you already have the idea of who is who since you recognise their voices.
You feel the perpetual cold settling in your bones, and you instinctively attempt to hug your slightly shivering figure, but your handcuffed hands are a hindrance that you have forgotten. You flinch when you hear the shrill screams that pierce into the cold, foreboding atmosphere once more, leaving you to wonder what sort of brutality those Devil’s Knights choose to strike them with. But you worry most about your friends, hoping that they’ll make it out alive.
You try your best to avoid squirming when a pair of eyes burn straight into you, and from your peripheral vision, White is leaning against the concrete wall with his arms crossed, watching you with disconcerting ease. You don’t want to admit it, but since your encounter with White, you feel this magnetic attraction towards him that feels inevitable, and it’s ridiculous, but there is an enigmatic connection between you and him that is simply indescribable. You know that he is a far more dangerous individual, and yet a part of you feels an instinctual need to seek comfort in him.
“What—” You begin to speak, faltering when the four of them react instantaneously to your voice. You put on a mask of bravado, but the tremor in your voice is palpable. “What do you want from me?” Your firm demeanour lies in exasperation because it is killing you how they obviously have ulterior motives.
You watch them with scrutiny as they seem to communicate telepathically, looking at each other in total silence before White gives a head nod. You tense up as Black approaches you, stopping in front of you before he pulls you up from the ground and holds your wrist. You eye him with visible confusion when he uncuffs you, but nonetheless you feel relieved because the metal handcuffs were making your wrist sore.
“We’re giving you two options, sweet thing.” Red says, his voice carrying a familiar allure. “You can either leave this place and go back home safely or stay and experience the thrill we have to offer.” You can imagine his charming grin on his plump lips. “It’s up to you, sweetheart. No judgement if you choose either.”
This is insanity; it is pure madness because this prolonged, twisted dance of devilry should have pushed you to choose the first option, but you feel entirely compelled as the second option resonates with you. Deep down, you know that you are every bit as twisted as them, desiring to uncover what sorts of diabolical schemes they might execute while a part of you keens in being the vulnerable prey in their predatory eyes. 
You glance over at the gates where you first entered to get here, having no desire to leave even when they are being lenient in offering the easy road to freedom, and so you remain rooted to the ground, your decision being as clear as the starless sky above you.
“Last chance to change your mind, princess.” Grey tuts, his demeanour seems to be taunting you. “Because if this is really your answer, it also means that you are giving consent to us.”
You have no idea if your trembling hands denote apprehension or twisted excitement. You bite your bottom lip, attempting to wet it with your tongue, but your mere action seems to elicit a not-so-inaudible growl from White. “I’m not that much of a coward as you think I am.”
“I didn’t say anything, princess.” Grey chuckles coldly, and yet those sounds from him bring an unexpected flutter to your heart. “Although, I can’t help but think that either you’re putting on a brave act or just being a dumb princess.” You hold back your tongue from retaliating.
“You better start running, love,” White says softly, his words rousing the excitement to send you into an adrenaline rush. “Because once we catch you, we’ll do whatever we want to you, and we’re not going to stop until we say so.”
You don’t spare any seconds as you take off in the direction of the maze where most of the guests were previously running into. The prior exertion begins to burn in your legs; your calf muscles are imploring for respite, but you push on, determined to get further away from your predators, albeit you have no intention to find the exit anytime soon.
Once you are certain that you have managed to drift far from them, you succumb to the exhaustion that you have been repressing, slowing down before you come to a momentary stop to take a breath. Subsequently, your perception of your surroundings heightens as you come down from the high, allowing you to pick on different ranges of sounds that send the same chills to your spine — shrilling screams that are either agony or thrill, roarings from the Devil’s Knights, and et cetera.
You force yourself to master equanimity before moving forward. You distract yourself by scanning your surroundings, surprised to see how tall the hedge walls are that it is impossible for anyone to look over to the other side of the wall. You feel the dread creeping up on you as you look ahead at how narrow yet hollow the route is. 
Eventually, you reach the end of the route, only to be daunted by the sight of a labyrinth containing infinite pathways to the unknown. You stagger a step back upon witnessing a guy limping with his injured leg to one pathway from the other, obviously running away from a Devil’s Knight as the masked man follows him with a long dagger that is dripping with blood.
You enter the pathway that resonates best with you, walking as stealthily as you can to avoid drawing anyone’s attention. Just then, you are suddenly reminded of your phone, prompting you to whip it out from your mini leg bag and go through your contacts, but confusion hits you when you see the ‘no signal’ on the top left of your phone, which is weird because just way earlier before the whole thing went down, your internet connection was working perfectly fine.
You grumble under your breath as you shove your phone back in your bag. You have no doubt that it is part of their doing, considering they wield the power of unpredictability. After what feels like an hour, you turn into a left corner, only to feel a huge relief upon seeing Wonyoung ahead of you.
“Wonyoung!” You call for her as you rush forward, forgetting the fact that you are supposed to go about discreetly. 
“Y/N!” Just as Wonyoung turns around, a figure decked out in black attire and a grey mask that obscures his identity emerges from the shadows of the entrance next to Wonyoung, swiftly grabbing her with his arm around her waist while the other covering her screaming mouth as she thrashes against his hold.
“Wonyoung!” You cry out for your soul sister as you step forward with the intention of getting her back despite lacking the right skills to protect her, afraid of what might happen to her. But the moment you attempt to reach out for her, the masked man turns to look at you and shakes his head.
“Don’t, Y/N. Unless you want to end up on the wrong side of my knife.” The wicked intent in his voice is resounding, rendering you frozen in your spot as you recognise his voice. Jungwon. “Luckily for you, you’re not mine to kill.” He says before dragging your helpless friend until they disappear from your sight, leaving you alone and hopeless.
Tears are welling in the rims of your eyes, while the trepidation that courses through your veins is starting to feel overwhelming. You sniffle as you quickly wipe away the fallen teardrop on your cheek before you force yourself to advance forward, mustering whatever courage and determination are left within you. The regret over your decision is there for you to grasp it, but you refuse to admit it.
You continue to venture into the unknown until you hear a familiar voice that kindles hope in your chest. “Yunjin?” You call for her, moving forward while your eyes dart everywhere as you walk past different entrances. You become startled when you spot one of the knights holding a chainsaw chasing after two girls who are screaming in terror before you quickly mind your own business and resume searching for your childhood best friend.
“Yunjin─” You immediately halt your steps as soon as you hear faint moans emitting from your very own childhood best friend. Your face contorts into a mortified confusion as you listen to how she is moaning pleasurably while there is a faint sound of skins slapping.
A part of you knows better than to indulge your curiosity, but you find yourself advancing forward once more. As soon as you turn your head, the vulgar sight greets you, rendering you completely shocked to the point where your body feels paralysed, unable to move.
There is your childhood best friend on top of a masked man as he is seated on a wooden bench, and their lower regions are completely stripped off of any layer of garments. Her back is facing you as she bounces continuously on him with her hands draped over his shoulders lazily.
As your gaze falls down, that is when you finally notice that Yunjin is indeed fucking down on the masked man, causing your cheeks to flare. You can see how lewd they are, fucking into each other with a series of moans and groans emitting from them. You should feel disgusted, and you should be looking away from this obscene spectacle, but you become enthralled by the sight of his cock disappearing into her pussy each time she bounces.
Oddly, your heart is racing at a pace that feels foreign, and your throat becomes dry the longer you watch them get immersed in the debauchery. You stagger a step back, panting lightly while feeling a familiar sensation pooling in your core. The warmth all over your body feels odd, bothering you greatly.
“Fuck, just like that.” The masked man throws his head to the back, holding Yunjin by her ass cheeks to assist her. “You’re doing so well, baby. Keep fucking on me like the desperate whore you are.” He says with a grunt before carrying your best friend over to the hedge wall where he pins her against the bushes behind them, depriving you of the vivid image of their fucking.
You squeeze your thighs together to suppress the sensation that becomes oddly unbearable in your core, getting undoubtedly turned on by the degradation, albeit it is not directed at you. Just as you stagger a step back, your back hits a solid chest, causing your heart to sink in the pits of your stomach.
Before you can run away, an arm slithers around your waist, locking you in place. A disapproving tut leaves his lips. “Was searching for you, baby, and imagine my surprise to see you watching your best friend getting fucked.” He hums, enjoying the way you squirm. “Naughty girl. Do you like watching people fuck? Or do you imagine yourself being in her shoes?”
“N-No.” You protest weakly, tearing your gaze away from the sight, but he uses his gloved hand to grip your jaw and turn your head, forcing you to keep your eyes trained on your best friend with sheer pleasure written on her countenance.
“Don’t lie to me, baby.” Black speaks next to your ear while your breaths get heavier and your mind is tainted with forbidden thoughts. “I know you love it. You’re probably wishing that was you, but no one gets to fuck you except me.”
Your breath catches in your throat as he gropes the flesh of your breast with earnestness, while his other hand trails downward on your stomach before his fingers go underneath the material of your dress. You gasp inaudibly at the sensation of his fingers teasingly grazing across your clothed pussy, and you swear you can feel some form of essence leaking between your folds.
“N-No.” Your weak protest does nothing to stop Black from his assault on you while you watch with hooded eyelids as your best friend continues to fuck the masked man vigorously while the sounds emanating from them become pornographic.
“Fuck, you’re nearly soaked, angel.” Black nearly growls as his chest vibrates against your back, sending you shivers down your spine.
Light pants leave your lips as your mind is relentlessly infused with impure thoughts, and your hips buck, as though in an attempt to entice Black, but he continues to tease you by stroking the outer part of your womanhood, occasionally bumping your clit.
The sound of a feminine scream pulls you out of the lustrous trance as you blink your eyes. Mortification hits you like whiplash while guilt shrouds you. Gritting your teeth, you muster willpower before slamming your elbow into his stomach hard, resulting in him releasing you while a painful groan emits from him.
“Y/N!” You hear Black roaring from behind; the sheer anger is palpable in his tone while you run as if your life depends on it, despite the blisters in your feet sending you signals that it needs medical attention as soon as possible.
Your hair flail behind you, soaring in the wind as you run while a few strands stick to your face as you perspire. Your heart is pounding harder against your chest, and your chest begins to tighten with anxiety at the worst possible outcome after angering one of the leaders, whose temperament is known to be the worst out of them.
A scream leaves your lips as soon as two lower-ranking knight members emerge from the bushes with different weapons in their grasp, bringing fright upon you. You run to the opposite side, and when you do, other knight members wreak terror upon you with their weapons, but they don’t do anything to you. It is also as though they are forcing you to go in the intended direction by scaring you relentlessly.
You choke back a sob, tears stinging in your eyes. You wish that this was all just a mere nightmare, but the exertion, the aches, and the pain all over your body say otherwise. You find yourself yearning to return to your beloved parents and the cosy ambience of your home, where you feel safe and loved.
A genuine scream of terror rips from your throat when Grey emerges from a shadow, holding an axe that is dripping with blood. “Where do you think you’re going, princess?” He asks mockingly, stalking towards you.
You nearly trip over before you pivot on your heels, running in the other direction. You keep going, even when your lungs are burning and tears blurring your vision, resulting in you tripping over a hard log that has you falling to the ground with a thud. You wince painfully as you feel your kneecap burn. You look back at what exactly caused you to trip, only to scream as you see a dead girl staring at you lifelessly.
That is when you finally gain awareness of your new surroundings, tearing out a sob from you as you are greeted by dead bodies scattered around you. You force yourself to get up on shaky legs, your teary eyes taking in the blood and even severed limbs in your line of sight.
You turn around and run again, wanting to erase the gruesome tableau from your tainted mind. You crash into a figure that is strong enough to stabilise himself from the impact while you blindly seek comfort and protection in whoever this is, sobbing out.
“Shhh, it’s okay, sweet thing. You’re safe with me now.” Red speaks above you while he strokes the back of your head tenderly, making you recoil from him instantly and allowing him to have a look at your beautiful face being tainted by tears streaming down your cheeks. “Come here, lovely.”
You shake your head, refusing to go anywhere with him as you grapple with your emotions that are in disarray. You run again, and it seems to be the only thing in the face of peril you are good at. You force the tears to stop, including the sobbing, as you are set to find a good place to hide. Your sharp eyes catch a sight of a relatively smaller pathway, and you head in without hesitation. You ignore the hedges of leaves grazing against your skin as you venture further into the dark.
As soon as you step outside, you are greeted by a whole new scenery that looks akin to an actual park, but the air thickens with a palpable dread, as though it is a telltale sign that an imminent danger will terrorise your temporary sanctuary. You don’t doubt the inevitable that the leaders will find out where you are.
Nevertheless, you explore further before a shadowy yet fairly big structure captures your interest, where it is situated above in the massive tree. You tilt your head up, squinting your eyes to get a better look before finally making out what looks like a whole treehouse, and it feels odd as you can immediately discern the undertone of adolescence emanating from the haunting-looking treehouse.
Your attention drifts to the tree trunk, where there are initials carved directly at your eye level, and you have a strong inkling that the two-letter initials belonged to the first letter of two people’s names. ‘H’ and another letter that matches the first letter in your name. You ignore the familiar throb in that specific part of your head again, grimace slightly before you turn around, only to let out a startled shriek at White’s looming figure over yours.
You immediately back away from him, establishing a safe distance, but your back hits the tree trunk, and yet you can’t seem to move around the tree and make a run again, noticing how White remains rooted to the ground in his spot.
“The boys and I used to build this treehouse on our own.” White speaks up, his mellow tone lacing with nostalgia that captivates your interest. “But it wasn’t for us that we were building it for.” He takes a slow step forward, causing you to tense up. “We built it for her, the girl who managed to capture our hearts without her knowing, but we lost her. I lost her.”
Something burns in your chest, and you have no idea if it’s jealousy or admiration, because in the way he speaks about her with pure reverence, this mysterious girl must’ve been his first love. You gulp nervously, your stance remaining in a fight-or-flight mode. “I’m sorry for your loss.” You say softly, uncertain if what you said would anger him.
You can feel it, the air shifting around you into something melancholic. “That’s okay because I’ve finally found her.” He says rather ruefully as he continues to close the gap between you until he stops in front of you. Your heart thumps loudly when he caresses your cheek tenderly. “But she couldn’t remember me, or any of us. I don’t blame her, though. It isn’t her fault for not being able to remember anything about us anymore.”
You stare into those hollow socket eyes of his mask while your heart remains in a thumping mess, because why does it feel like he is making it seem that his words are directed at you in a personal way? Even the way he is standing close to you with one hand on your waist feels intimate.
You open your mouth to speak, but as soon as Red emerges from the same entry you came from, your fight-or-flight instinct kicks in, prompting you to shove yourself past White, making a run for the other entry that is near the huge gazebo meters away.
You think that White is letting you go freely, but in a blink of an eye, you feel his hand grabbing you by the arm and pulling you roughly to him. Before you know it, he deftly carries you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes while you are left kicking your feet in the air and throwing weak punches at his toned back that have no effect on him as he continues to advance towards the gazebo.
“I was going to be nice, but you decided to hurt my feelings.” White snarls, shocking you at how evidently pissed he is after having ever heard him speak with a distinct softness throughout the years you know him. “I’m going to mark my claim on you, and you’re going to take everything I give to you like the good fucking girl you are.”
Your head goes dizzying from the way White manhandles you as he has you settled on what feels like an inflatable mattress before you find yourself lying on your back, your eyes blinking at the dark ceiling of the gazebo in a dazed state. You attempt to get up, only for White to push you back down before he goes straight for under your dress, his fingers moving at your waistband and pulling it down.
“I meant what I said earlier.” White says as he expertly removes your underwear in one go before hovering above you while you are locked by the sensation of being paralysed underneath him, lacking resolve to fight against him because deep down, you know that you have been looking forward to this. You hear him unzipping his pants, which arouses your bundle of nerves. “I’m going to fuck you first, my dearest.”
Something so twisted preens inside of you when White spreads your legs open before grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head despite your lack of protest. You barely feel the wave of embarrassment by the fact that the other three leaders are under the same gazebo as you, watching the obscene spectacle with a disconcerting nonchalance.
You gasp at the sensation of something solid and heavy sliding up and down on your cunt before you lift your head just slightly and crane your neck to get a better view of his assault. You nearly foam at the mouth upon seeing his cock with its bulbous head swollen. A whine escapes you as he aims the head and taps it on your clit repeatedly, causing you to arch your back with your hips bucking wildly at the delicious sensation of your aching clit being highly stimulated while this action of yours only turns on the other leaders at how alluring you look.
“I know, love, I know. You need my cock, yeah?” White utters softly, and yet he sounds sinisterly smug as he enjoys how desperate you are. He finally and slowly penetrates his length into your pussy, causing your walls to stretch painfully, but the pain is surprisingly tolerable. “Fuck, you’re so tight.” He growls under his breath, unable to fight off the temptation before he begins thrusting his cock into your already sopping cunt, bringing a smirk to his lips at how easily wet you are.
You moan out at the sensation of your walls being relentlessly stretched by his cock with each thrust, your face contorting into ecstasy as the pleasure is building up in your lower abdomen. Your hands are clawing at his vest, desperate to cling onto him before he grabs both hands and pins them above your head with one hand again. He uses the other to reach down your swollen clit that has been aching for attention, his thumb rubbing your sensitive button with maddening precision.
Your head is filled with nothing but him and his cock; the desire to be reduced into nothing by the time he’s done with you has you producing more moans and whines of plea that sound pornographic in the ears of the other leaders as they wait with practiced patience while getting boners.
“No one will ever get to see you like this, all fucked out. You’re fucking mine.” White snarls possessively, delivering thrust after thrust with unbridled yet ruthless passion that has your eyes rolling to the back; the pleasure from getting bullied by his cock and your bundle of nerves being relentlessly rubbed by his thumb is absolutely delirious, and you swear you feel your tummy bulging with each thrust of his cock.
“H-Heeseung-” You finally moan out his name as you force your eyes to gaze deeply into the hollow sockets of his mask, your eyes glistening with such desperation and yearning. He nearly falters, utterly hypnotised by your mesmerising beauty, staring into his soul, and he wants nothing more than to engrave this moment on his mind.
His eyes fall to your luscious lips with the sweet sounds escaping. He takes his fellow leaders by surprise when he removes his mask, finally revealing his handsome face to you while his fallen hoodie reveals his disheveled hair that makes you want to run your fingers through. Your eyes meet his dark, possessive ones, and before you can marvel at his haunting beauty, he slams his lips into yours while the pace of his thrust changes into slow and hard, as though he is taking his time to savour every inch of you.
You whine needily into the kiss as his lips move against yours sensually, kissing you as though you are something so precious while you feel the cold metal of his lip ring caressing your lips. You feel his hand gripping your wrists loosening before he grabs one of your hands and lowers it next to your head, only for his fingers to interlace with yours affectionately. He slips his tongue into your parted lips, licking and memorising every inch of your hot cavern tenderly. You feel butterflies in your stomach at the overflowing affection from him.
“Hee, I-I feel—” You moan as you gasp into his mouth, feeling the pleasure in you that reaches its peak, your bucking hips nearly stuttering as he rubs your clit skilfully fast while his thrusts feel like a telltale sign of his own peaking pleasure.
Heeseung pants hotly into your moaning mouth, his tongue meeting yours in a swirl before kissing you again. “Me too, my love. Let go for me anytime now.” On his command, you tumble over the edge of ecstasy as you come hard on his cock, your body trembling with the intoxicating waves of pleasure rolling over you.
Heeseung grunts against your lips, delivering one last thrust that nearly has you seeing stars before slamming his hips into yours and pressing you down while you feel a copious amount of his release deep inside of your womb, your back arching at the pleasurable sensation of his cock burying to the hilt in you as it twitches. He is quick enough to recover that prompts him to withdraw from you, eliciting a whimper at the way his cock slides from your sensitive cunt and disappointment as he slowly backs away from you.
You meet Heeseung’s eyes again, noticing the way they darken at the sight of his cum leaking from your exposed cunt before they meet your eyes with a soft smirk unfurling his lips. “I’m not the only one claiming you tonight, love.” Just as he says this, Red strides past him, drawing your attention and causing your pussy to clench in anticipation when he unzips his pants, allowing you to see a visible bulge straining against his brief.
“Don’t worry, sweet thing. I’m gonna make you feel good.” Red says huskily as he hovers above you with one hand supporting his weight while the other frees his erection from the confines. You don’t look down, stunned by the heaviness of his cock as he taps just the head to your clit that instantly renewed with vigour. “This might hurt a little. Just focus on my voice, yeah?”
You dismiss the smugness in his tone, too distracted by his huskily attractive voice that awakens the butterflies in you before a gasp leaves you when he slowly inserts his cock into you, inch by inch, allowing you to feel the painful stretch at the sheer thickness of his girth. Upon hearing your quiet whimper, he lowers his hand to your clit and rubs it with his thumb in calculated yet tender strokes, alleviating the pain.
“I got you, sweetheart.” His voice sounds strained, relishing the way your velvety walls snugly grip his cock like a lover. He nearly wants to press a kiss to your mewling lips, forgetting that he isn’t allowed to remove his mask under Heeseung’s order. He continues to deliver sweet nothings to your ear while you clench around his cock every so often at his attractive voice, eliciting a deep groan from him.
The entirety of his cock is now buried in you, but he doesn’t move just yet, his thumb remains stimulating your clit, which enables you to feel nothing but pure pleasure despite the stretch from his girth. Your hips buck up lightly, bringing a grin to his lips before he begins to pull back his cock that is glistening with your arousal and plunges deep into your cunt, repeating the action.
“It’s so—” You gasp as your body shakes from the impact of his thrust, prompting you to latch your hand on his forearm as he has his hand planted next to your head. “It’s so big!” You moan out, your hips moving to meet his in a perfect tandem that allows you to feel his cock at deeper heights.
“Oh, yeah? I’m big for you, sweetheart?” Red smirks down at you, his eyes tracing your every nuance as you are evidently in a state of bliss. “You’re taking me like a champ, like I know you would. Fuck, I’ve always wanted to be buried in your sweet pussy like this.” He groans when you clench hard around him, causing his cock to throb. “Keep clenching around me like that. You’re doing so well for me.”
His praise ignites something in you as you preen; his affection and how tender he is in the way he fucks you turn you on further. He continues to utter sweet things to you without losing his momentum, and you can’t help but compare how different he is to Heeseung despite them fucking you similarly.
“You like your clit being played with, sweetheart?” Red utters softly, enjoying how sensitive you are as he continues to rub your clit in addicting strokes, making you roll your eyes to the back with your hips chasing for both his cock and thumb. “You’re so fucking cute and so, so perfect for me. It’s like your pussy is made for me.”
You moan softly at his words, your hand gripping his forearm tight. The consistency in his thrusts immediately falters when he lets out a sound between a groan and a growl, sending waves of pleasure through you, and before you know it, he slams his cock into you with unbridled fervour, instantly bringing you to newer heights of ecstasy.
Tears prick in your eyes at the roughness he sets in his pace, a stark contrast to the previous loving stroke. Being conscious of how loudly you moan, you turn your head to the side and bury your mouth into his arm, snuggling your face into his warmth, rather adorably, that enhances his possessiveness, his cock lodging deeper to the point you are seeing stars. 
“I’m getting close, sweet thing.” He rasps, his thumb rubbing your clit at a maddening stroke that drives you to the edge of delirium while the intensity of his thrusts is slowly reducing you to nothing. “Come with me now, sweetheart.”
You don’t need to be told twice, because with one last thrust, Red matches the crescendo of your release, his own washing over him in a torrent of ecstasy with his sticky essence spilling in you, mixing with your cum. You whine and squirm under him as he delivers slow yet brief thrusts for his cock to relish the last of your sweet pussy that is pulsating around him.
Red slowly pulls away his cock that is glistening with your union of release and backs away from you, only for his figure to be overshadowed by Black, the latter closing in on you faster than your brain can comprehend.
“You got me having a painful boner, babydoll.” Black says, his voice thickening with a palpable desire as he looms over your weak figure, his hands moving to unzip his pants. “By the time I’m done with you, you’re going to be ruined, and your pussy will yearn for my cock constantly.” Your pussy clenches with both excitement and fear at his words.
Black groans, holding back the beast within him from devouring you wholly as you lie beneath him with your pretty eyes sparkling with the familiar innocence and how he gets turned on by the translucent stockings wrapped around your legs. His hand rubs on the side of your leg, feeling you up before taking you by surprise when he hoists your leg over his shoulder.
You marvel at the flexibility you had no idea existed, how it bends to his will while he adjusts in aiming his cock at your awaiting hole. “You’d make the perfect cheerleader, baby.” He comments with a groan before pushing his cock into you in one go, giving you no time to adjust to his girth when he thrusts with an unyielding force.
Your face contorts into both pleasure and pain as you throw your head back, baring your dainty neck to him, which entices him to wrap his fingers around it, and he does, eliciting a gasp from you when he squeezes your throat. Despite knowing that he could easily snap your neck, your arousal seems to intensify at the idea of being choked while he obliterates your pussy, causing you to arch into him.
“Guess babydoll has a kink.” The smirk in his tone is evident, taking great pleasure at the gasps and stuttered moans from you as he squeezes your neck occasionally. “You like this? Like getting choked while I—"He pauses, withdrawing his cock, only to ram into you harder than the previous, bruising your hips. “—while I ruin your sweet pussy?”
Your eyes go white as you surrender to the painful pleasure that brings you to another state of pure bliss, moans spilling from your lips, completely incoherent, but he squeezes your neck again in warning, forcing you to focus in the hollow sockets of his mask while you hear his ragged breathing. “Answer me.” He commands in a growl.
“I like it!” You manage to utter, your breathing getting irregular from the overwhelming sensation of getting fucked with reckless abandon.
“Tell me that you love being my cockslut.” Black demands with cruel delight at the same time he shows leniency in the way he slowly removes his fingers from your throat. “Tell me that you love getting ruined by us.”
“I love being your cockslut!” You moan as he hoists your other leg over his shoulder, finding yourself in a mating press that allows you to feel his cock deeper to the hilt. “I love getting ruined by you!” Your admission has the other guys undeniably hard, how desperate and needy you sound.
“Look at you.” Black growls, his voice huskier than earlier, as he pounds into you relentlessly while the squelching sound of your sexes in union reaches your ears. “You were made for this, to take my cock.” The sensation of his brutal cock lodging deeper is overwhelming, heightening your sensitivity as you feel your pleasure reaching a crescendo, the familiar inevitable about to rain on you.
Without announcing your arrival, you come hard on his cock, your body trembling with overwhelming pleasure, but he doesn’t stop just yet, pounding harder and harder while you whimper and whine from the overstimulation, completely helpless under him.
“This pussy is mine now.” Black grunts, delivering one last hard thrust before going completely still, lodging his cock deep in you while you feel his release filling you to the brim. He teases you with a few thrusts while your cunt pulsates around him. 
Black lowers your aching legs before pulling away from your cunt that is leaking with the union of your cums, eliciting a whimper from you as you feel oversensitive. “Last one, baby. Don’t disappoint my best friend now.”
Upon his words, Grey steps forward, and there is something menacing about him with his hollow sockets staring at you that makes you want to cower away. You make a pathetic attempt to close your legs and drag your body despite the weight of exertion pressing you down, but he is quick enough to catch you, manhandling you in a way that has your head dizzying before finding yourself in a different position.
Ironically, you feel more vulnerable with your back facing them, especially when Grey forces your legs to spread, exposing your slick-smeared cunt to them. A gasp leaves your lips at the stinging pain on your right bum before a moan tears from your throat at the abrupt intrusion of his cold, slender fingers shoving into your hole.
“You’re pathetic and disgusting, princess.” Grey’s hatred is apparent despite his voice thickening with desire while he continues to thrust his fingers into your sensitive pussy. “I knew that you were a slut behind that good girl act.”
You know that in any other circumstances, you would feel hurt by his words, but right now, you feel a sense of pleasure as he continues to spit demeaning words to you while you fuck back into his fingers with your head lolling to the back. The way you move sensually with your heavenly round bum look has him groaning deeply before he unsheathes his fingers from you, eliciting a whine of disappointment from you.
“Patience, slut.” You squeak when he brings his palm down and smacks your right bum again. You hear him unzipping his pants, and you feel inclined to wiggle your ass at him, as though to taunt him. “Look at you, princess. Getting excited for my cock.”
Without any warning, Grey shoves his cock into your awaiting hole, and somehow, you feel tighter even after taking three cocks. You gasp at the sensation of his sheer girth that feels long and thick, making you feel full instantly. “Still so fucking tight after getting ruined by more than one cock. Fucking slut.” He scoffs, giving your bum a resounding smack that brings tears to your eyes.
Grey proceeds to fuck you, slamming his hips into yours unforgivingly as his cock stretches your velvety walls deliciously. You begin to get handsy with your hands, needing to ground yourself as the way he bullies his cock into you nearly brings you to the wrong side of heaven. He makes a disapproving noise under his breath before grabbing your arms and locking them behind you expertly with one hand while the other delivers another smack to your burning bum.
“I don’t care if you’d be breaking by the time I’m through with you. Just fucking take it.” Grey says harshly through ragged breathing, each thrust is punctuated by the apparent hatred he harbours for you, and yet you feel more turned on than ever, loving this pain he’s bestowing on you.
“H-Harder.” You utter feebly, and a broken moan leaves your lips when he fucks you harder, causing your whole body to shake from the impact. His consistency remains, his cock battering your insides relentlessly while you moan out from the pleasure wantonly that only seems to spur him further.
“Taking cock is all you’re good at.” Grey growls under his breath as he presses his body into you, allowing you to hear his husky voice clearly as he speaks in your ear, all the while without faltering his brutal thrusts. “Your greedy pussy will always need more than one cock, because that’s what you are, a hungry cockslut.”
You moan at his words, and upon watching the pure, fucked-out bliss on your angelic face, he can’t resist the temptation and shoves his now-ungloved fingers into your mouth. “Suck on them like how you would suck my cock, princess.”
You do as he tells you, your tongue licking his fingers sensually and sucking on them. You choke on his fingers as he lodges them deeper into your mouth, hitting your throat that vibrates with your moans as his cock hits the delicious spot relentlessly. You gasp out as soon as he removes his fingers from your mouth, your spit covering his fingers wholly.
Your eyes roll to the back in pleasure when he rubs your clit with the same fingers he choked you with, your mouth gaping with pornographic moans as he rubs your bundle of nerves harder and faster while his cock remains constant in hitting the spot in your sopping cunt. You hear him groaning deeply at how submissive and needy you are as you attempt to spread your legs further at the same time you move your hips to match the way he’s assaulting you with his cock and fingers.
“Look at you being so needy for me, princess.” Grey murmurs, his voice carrying an undertone of affection, eliciting a mewl from you as you feel the instinctual need to bask in his warmth. “You’ll be the perfect cockslut for us, for me.”
Even without words of your imminent arrivals, your bodies seem to be in tune with each other, because with one last earth-shattering thrust and a hard flick to your clit, his orgasm crashes down on him at the same time your orgasmic release rolls through you like tidal waves, his cum mixing with yours, marking the finality of the leaders’ claims on you.
Your heart flutters when you feel the lip shape on his mask pressing into your bare shoulder, as though he’s giving you a kiss before disappointment dawns on you as he slowly pulls away, allowing you to feel his girth dragging along your battered walls. But the disappointment is slowly replaced by sheer exhaustion of the aftermath, leaving you to remain exposed in their eyes that you can’t seem to feel any humiliation.
You hear muffled sounds from behind, as though a conversation is happening between them, and just when sleep is taking over your consciousness, your eyes snap wide open on high alert at the sensation of something sharp grazing down on your skin before the dreadful realisation hits you that someone is wielding a knife with its cold blade tantalisingly caressing your right bum.
“This is gonna hurt, love, but you’re strong. You can take it.” White, no, Heeseung tells you with a soothing lull that is ineffective in influencing sleep over your terrified figure. 
You open your mouth to speak, but instead, a scream tears from your throat at the searing pain of the blade digging into your tender skin. You attempt to move, wanting to get away from him, but he easily overpowers you with one hand, locking your arms together in a bind behind you while he continues to torment you with his knife.
You can only afford to cry out at the painful sensation that is unlike anything else. After what feels like forever, your cries abate as you heave soft sobs once the blade leaves you, feeling warm liquid dripping down your skin while you have no notion what he did to your skin that remains burning from the cruel aftermath.
As the series of events that unfold in one night flashes on your mind, your body feels the inevitable trauma that renders you paralysed before going into a profound state of shock. Eventually, you succumb to the oblivion that beckons you to its cold arms, leaving you at your most vulnerable state in the eyes of your surrounding predators.
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A profound silence settles in the room, being courteous enough to look away from your half-nudity when their best friend begins to treat your wound at where Heeseung carved their mark on you just moments ago while you remain unconscious from all the exertion, fallen in a deep slumber. They would never leave you to deal with treating any wounds on your own, and besides, you’re theirs to take care of now.
After you passed out, Sunghoon offered to carry you to his room and would be the one treating all of your wounds since out of the four of them, he is far more capable and has the proper aiding tools. He has been treating you with extra care, leaving no wounds or blisters unattended or done with improper care. Plus, in his words, he didn’t trust his best friends enough as he was sure that if any of them had been the one instead, your wounds may develop infection.
Thankfully, his best friends have their backs facing him as he focuses on cleaning the last of your wound with an antiseptic before patching it up with a bandage. All the while, his thoughts are filled with how utterly ridiculous he was for being oddly generous by letting the girl he hates sleep on his bed and the fact that he has never invited any girl into his room or even bed, as he is very particular about cleanliness. Yet, here you are. Never again, he thinks.
As soon as Sunghoon is done, the other three return their gaze to you while he proceeds to wash his hands, now tucked under the covers while your hair is sprawled out in tendrils. With the moonlight streaming in, casting a gentle glow on your serenity, you look like an angelic mess, and due to the aftermath, you look so frail that it makes them fiercely devoted to protecting you, a natural instinct they have towards you now.
Now, the four leaders are scattered around in Sunghoon’s room, but their eyes never stray from your serene form, because something about you feels oddly comforting, like a home they’ve been searching for a long time deep down. However, only three of them exchange knowing looks as the same curiosity remains lingering in their heads.
“What are you planning, Heeseung?” Jay asks quietly, drawing Heeseung’s attention from you. Despite knowing each other since diapers, he could never read the latter most of the time.
“You know that this changes quite literally everything, at least until we graduate.” Sunghoon adds on, being careful with the volume of his voice as he does not want to wake you up.
“Listen, I like Y/N, but—” Though Jake is directing his opening statement to Heeseeung, Sunghoon cuts him off with a ‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ look while Jake merely shrugs his shoulders. “Well, yeah, she’s a nice girl, a pretty sweet one at that. Who wouldn’t like her?” He says before focusing back on Heeseung. “Anyway, as I was saying, we haven’t had anyone to prey on for years since the moment we took up the position as devil’s knights’ leaders, and the mark was created by the founders of Devil’s Knights, which not only represents us but is also a mark meant for the leaders’ prey.”
“And you do realise that she now bears the mark.” Jay points out the obvious as he folds his arms over his chest, standing at a neutral point, but he doesn’t wish for Heeseung to regret his actions. “Y/N, out of all people. I don’t know if you thought this through—"
“Remember the conversation we had last week?” Heeseung cuts him off; his tone and demeanour remain disconcertingly calm. The three leaders slowly nod their heads as they recall a certain memory. “We vowed that we would do anything to destroy our fathers and possibly their empire too. This is it. This is just the beginning.”
“And how does that have anything to do with Y/N?” Sunghoon asks, displaying genuine confusion as the rest do, and yet a part of them feels wickedly intrigued.
“She’s the key.” Heeseung simply says as he moves towards you before stopping right next to the bed, his eyes softening as he reaches out to stroke your cold cheek gently. “At least not directly. It’s just too bad that she has no idea she is caught up in the mess too.” Though Heeseung’s answer doesn’t satisfy their curiosity, they know that he will elaborate more as time passes.
“Y/N now officially bears the mark as our prey, and no matter how much you hate that she has been chosen, I expect you to follow the tradition that has always run this fraternity.” Heeseung smirks, his eyes never leaving your angelic face as he continues to stroke your cheek affectionately. “Corrupt, destroy, and bend her to your will.”
“I’m not even complaining.” Jake says with a devious grin, chuckling at the blatant reaction of Sunghoon, who clearly despises the idea, while Jay seems neutral, but his face has a tinge of distaste. Jake could never blame them, though, because neither of them expected Heeseung to carve the mark on her.
“It’s going to be tough since she has a protective circle of friends, if you hadn’t noticed.” Jay grumbles, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the thought of your annoying friends.
“About that, I called Winter to inform Y/N’s roommates to come over and get her home,” Jake informs them, rubbing his nape sheepishly when two Parks glare at him in disbelief. “They’re already on their way here.”
Sunghoon scowls at him. “Oh great! Watch them disapproving and protesting. You already know how much they despise us.” 
A smirk touches Heeseung’s lips, a familiar devilry shadowing his features. “I’m not too worried because they know better than to mess with a devil’s knight’s prey.”
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Your consciousness keeps fading in and out, as though it is reluctant to face the reality that awaits you, but it eventually enables you to feel the terrible aches all over your body and a stinging pain in your lower body part as it is being pressed down into the surface of something familiar, albeit a fleecy-like padding. Though the exhaustion settling in your body feels like it's on a different level, you slept well, suspiciously too well, as though your soul was on the other side of the universe, and with how fatigued you feel, you are tempted to return to a deep slumber.
But you are roused fully awake as an incessant pounding pummels into your skull, causing your face to contort into a grimace, and as you make an attempt to move your body, a wince leaves your lips at the familiar stinging sensation that you feel so distinctly somewhere around your backside. Your mind drifts from the pain you are feeling, only focusing on collecting the fragments of the events that transpired last night, which eventually coalesce into one account, prompting you to snap your eyes wide open in horror.
“Oh, no, no, no, no! It can’t be—" You continue to prattle, having no clue whether or not the words tumbling past your lips are intelligible, but the memory of the number of events that happened in one night is unmistakably fresh in your mind. You force yourself to calm your erratic nerves as you inhale and exhale deeply. 
“It’s fine. Everything’s fine. Maybe some of those were just your imagination.” You reassure yourself before abruptly raising your body vertically, only for it to be a mistake when the ache intensifies in your lower abdomen, but your attention shifts to the bandages on each side of your forearms, wondering when you got minor injuries.
Your feet feel particularly sore before you pull away the duvet that’s been covering your legs, your baby pink shorts allowing the full view of a few bandages decorating your skin while your feet are nearly covered with rolled bandages. No, it is definitely not just your imagination. You remember clearly how your feet were swelling and bearing blisters after having to run away from the relentless danger.
A shaky breath leaves your lips before the sense of disgust comes to you. Not only do you feel like absolute shit, but you feel so disgusting that it makes you want to shred every inch of your skin. Caught in a whirlwind of chaotic emotions, you fail to realise that your body has yet to recover from the exhaustion, resulting in you falling over your bed and your body making contact with the cold hard ground with a loud thud.
“Ouch!” You moan loudly at the brutal impact, tears welling in your eyes from the pain that adds to your misery, or maybe you’re just overwhelmed by everything. You hold back your tears as you attempt to push yourself up.
The impact could probably be heard from outside of your room, because in just a few seconds, thundering footsteps approach your room before the door swings open with your best friends barging in, appalled by your current situation. “Y/N!”
Instead of turning and asking them for help like you would usually do, you simply ignore them, your jaw locking with tension as you are determined enough to help yourself, but Wonyoung and Yunjin are quicker than you as they swiftly offer their aid by grabbing you on each side and carefully assisting you to stand. 
“I didn’t need any of your help! I had it handled!” You lash out at them, choking back on a sob as you yank your aching arms from them, prompting Wonyoung and Yunjin to exchange looks, but you are too occupied in the sense of betrayal from your friends, because they should’ve told you everything and what to expect in the first place, especially since they have always been Devil’s Night’s regulars.
Karina observes your odd temperament, noticing the tears in your waterline. “Y/N, you didn’t have to lash out at them. They were helping you because you were clearly struggling.” Her tone is missing the usual mirth, but you could not bring yourself to care. 
Yunjin shakes her head at Wonyoung, but the latter cautiously approaches you as if you’re a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. “We understand that you had a rough night—”
“You don’t understand anything, let alone what I feel.” Your voice holds a palpable tremor, struggling to control the anger that’s been boiling within. You glare at them, taking them by surprise with a brief hurt flashing in their eyes. “I feel shitty, if that’s what you want to know.”
“Is there anything you need, Y/N?” Yunjin asks gently, focusing on you instead of her feelings that were hurt by your words and actions.
“What I need is to be alone and take a damn shower. I feel so icky.” You grumble under your breath as you force yourself to head to the shower in spite of the constant difficulty of the aches in your legs. You nearly falter in your steps as you recall how you were voluntarily willing to be theirs last night, willing for them to take you as they please.
You clench a fist before continuing your destination, oblivious to the wary looks being exchanged between your best friends. “Uh, Y/N—”
You ignore them again as you turn on the faucet, allowing the water to run before you cup a handful of water with your palms and splash it to your face, but as you bend down further to wash your face in the sink for another time, you wince at the painful stretch of what it feels like a wound on your backside so distinctly.
“What the hell?” You whisper, your face contorting into confusion before turning your body to an angle where you can see the right side of your body in the mirror. You pull down your waistband, not even bothered that your best friends are still watching you, and you swear you feel your heart sinking in the pit of your stomach. “Oh my God—”
You are not even shocked, just completely mortified by the grotesque image of what it looks like someone had used the tip of a knife to skilfully carve an upside-down cross on your skin, and with how the condition of the wound is looking, you fear that it will leave a permanent scar on your skin. And it’s not just someone, because you clearly remember Heeseung being the responsible one.
“We were trying to tell you about it.” Karina says quietly as the atmosphere feels unsettling. “You bear the mark of the Devil’s Knights’ leaders now.”
“W-What?” You stammer, your voice trembling with both fear and disbelief while your head is in a disarray of chaos. “I don’t understand. Their mark? So what does this mean for me?” You dare to ask, tears blurring your vision with each blink.
Your best friends exchange looks again, but this time, the shadow of secrecy passes by in their countenance, giving you a strong sense that there is more than they seem to let on, and you hate how insecurity begins to creep up on you.
“It means they own you now.”
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The ordeal remains a haunting playback in your mind, as though you are experiencing it all over again. You feel horrified by the things that happened on one night, immoral behaviours that were deemed lawful by the government you thought would make the world a better place, but above all, you feel completely revolted at yourself, as you know that you have no one to blame but yourself.
You feel horrible, needing the urge to vomit, but nothing comes out, and it feels like you are on the brink of insanity. You didn’t sleep a wink last night, and you didn’t even step a foot outside, refusing to deal with any of your best friends. There is no doubt that your eccentric behaviour alarms them gravely, as evident in the way their worry for you remains constant and they take turns knocking on your door to get you to come out and eat something, but you remain nonverbal, eventually forcing them to resign.
It is not that you hate your best friends, and you don’t think you could ever hate them, but you can’t look at their faces yet, seeing how they seemed to accept the horrifying fact that you now bear a mark that indicates you are the leaders’ property and how their normalcy truly confounds you as if whatever happened on Devil’s Night is barely a memory. You can’t help but feel resentful towards them, knowing that they have been attending Devil's Night since freshmen, because how do they still not find any issues in the annual festivity that entails such heinous pursuits?
You love your best friends; you really do, but right now, as you have been reflecting deeply, you wonder if you truly know them, or anyone around you for that matter. Or maybe they’re just the same as the Devil’s Knights, except the masks they wear are not tangible, but the thought of it unnerves you the same.
You examine yourself in the mirror once more, wearing an outfit that highlights modesty, a stark contrast to the dress you wore two nights ago, and you never knew a dress could hold a weight of memories. You can feel your hand trembling as you wait patiently for your mother to answer your call, pressing your phone to your ear.
“Hi, Mom.” You greet your mother on the line steadily, but you can feel yourself getting weaker in your resolve.
“Hey, sweetie. You’re up early on a Sunday.” Your mother’s kind and gentle voice is soothing to hear, and yet it brings tears to your eyes. You yearn to be in her warm, comforting arms, where you feel undoubtedly safe. You wish to be the innocent little girl in your mama’s arms.
“I’m planning to head over to the church near campus since I was always so busy with school.” You tell her, mustering a smile in your tone as you quickly wipe a fallen teardrop from the corner of your eye. “Where’s Dad?”
“He’s sleeping. He just got back from a tiring night shift.” Your mother informs you, but you sense a certain tone of knowingness in her tone as she continues to speak. “Tell me, what happened?”
“Nothing. What makes you think that?” You try your best to be indifferent, now making your way to grab your sling purse from the hanging rack. “I’m fine, Mom, really.”
“I know my daughter, Y/N. It isn’t like you to call me at this hour. Did something happen to my sweetie?”
Alas, the tears brimming in your eyes cascade down your cheeks, and thankfully you choose to go for a barefaced look. “Um, am I still good, Mom?” Your voice cracks in between, allowing your true emotion to surface.
“Of course you are. You are always good, and goodness is always inside of you.” Your mother remains constant in the way she speaks to you in a soft lull, being patient with you as you try to find the right words but careful enough not to expose yourself.
“But what if I did something bad?” You ask sullenly. “What if I sinned?” You already did — giving away your virginity voluntarily to the four men you couldn’t help but be attracted to.
There is a brief silence on the line, and you can’t discern whether your mother is mad at you or not. “Sweetie, there is no denying that you are God’s blessed child, and purity has always been a big part of you, but you are a human just like the rest. You’re bound to make mistakes. So if you have sinned, you should already know what to do next.”
“Are you mad at me?” You ask meekly, swallowing a lump in your throat. You hate disappointing your mother. You are sure enough that she would disown you without hesitation if she ever found out about what happened.
“No, I’m not.” Your mother reassures you. “Have a safe journey on your way to the church, alright? I love you, always. Remember that, sweetie.”
“I love you too, Mom.” You reciprocate as your voice comes out shaky before you end the call. You quickly stuff your necessities in your sling purse before exiting your room cautiously as you slowly and quietly close the door behind you. You know that your roommates are still asleep at this time, but you want to be extra cautious.
After successfully exiting your dormitory building, you decide to hail a cab outside, lacking the energy to take a bus ride. As the driver drives you to the destination, you take the moment to close your eyes and put your mind at ease, but only negativity manages to invade your short-lived peace. The devilry whispers, telling you how you should just give up and succumb to what your heart desires most.
Thankfully, you have arrived at your destination before you can dwell further. You exit the cab after paying the fare, your eyes magnetically drawn to the divine building ahead of you. Your stomach churns with relentless guilt while your heart throbs, but you force yourself to advance. A gust of wind hits your skin, sending you shivers and prompting you to hug your white coat around your figure. It has also been quite some time since you visited the church that is situated on the same street as the campus due to the heavy workload given by your professors for the past months that you didn’t even have the time to visit.
Before you can even step foot onto the holy ground, you feel a familiar chill running down your body with the back of your hair rising, prompting you to daringly look over your shoulder, your eyes scanning your surroundings, completely paranoid. You swear that you feel eyes burning straight into your figure, and even as you finally enter the building, you can’t shake the feeling of someone watching you from afar.
But as you amble further in, you feel at ease, tension dissipating in every part of your body and mind as the familiar tranquillity in the ambience feels like a gentle hug, assuring you that despite the sins sitting on your shoulders and the guilt weighing on your conscience, you will be pardoned in the end.
Fortunately, the place is not as crowded as you expected since it is still too early for the service to begin. You offer a polite smile to the sisters walking past you as they welcome you warmly with smiles.
The pastor, who appears to be speaking to one of the members of the church, directs his focus to you, missing the way his eyes glimmer with an inexplicable emotion. Once his eyes meet yours, a warm smile touches his lips. “It has been a while, my child.”
You reciprocate his smile with politeness despite your nerves returning to eat you up on the inside. “It has. School has been keeping me occupied.”
“I admire your optimism, but it’s still early to start the service.” He tells you with genuine confusion. 
You release a shaky breath, mustering bravery while regret shines in your eyes and the guilt pierces into your heart like a deadly thorn. “I have a confession to make.”
His smile falters just slightly. He tips his head in the direction where the familiar booth of the sacrament of penance is, beckoning you to follow him. “Come, child.”
It isn’t long until you have finally reached it, now seated on the chair with your heart pounding against your chest. Your hands tremble as they rest on your thighs, but you clench them into fists.
“Whenever you are ready.” He says to you from the other side of the wall.
The events that transpired two nights ago are like a film in your mind as you recall them. A tumultuous mixture of emotions is palpable within you while you attempt to remain collected. 
With a shaky breath, you begin your confession, “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned……”
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void-my-warranty · 11 months ago
Note
I WILL BEG ON MY HANDS AND KNEES FOR MORE SERVICE DOG JOHNNY 🙏🙏🙏🙏
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Art by @gorsime
Ghost Convinces you to Fuck Johnny (18+)
Service Dog Johnny Part 1 (full part list here)
Cumming might not be achievable tonight, you realize with a dull wave of disappointment.
You work your fingers a little more desperately over your clit, trying to find the perfect angle to get that heat soaking down into your pelvis—
Nope, you’re not any closer to finishing than you were five minutes ago. You finally let your fingers relax, moving absently against your clit as your eyes flutter open. Automatically you look up at your giant boyfriend who’s sitting in bed next to you. His eyes meet yours, and then flick down to watch your halfhearted circles.
“You’ve had some trouble lately.”
With a resigned sigh, you drag your wet fingers up to rest on your stomach, closing your legs and trying not to be embarrassed because it’ll just make him feel bad. Honesty is going to be best in this situation.
“I need to dig out my vibrator, I think. I don’t like making you sit here with me for ages.”
The violently purple vibrator which is currently lost somewhere in the back of your closet is what you used to get yourself off in the past, before you moved in with Simon. You slept over for almost a year before he finally convinced you to live with him, but when you still had your own place there was more opportunity for private time when you needed it.
“Why haven’t you been using it?” Simon asks, with what you hope is just idle curiosity. He’s been extra quiet tonight, which is a big reason you didn’t want to bother him with stupid things like your sex drive. You should have followed your instincts and ignored your pussy until things became more dire.
“Um… I was a little… embarrassed. A lot of guys don’t like sex toys. I think it’s an ego thing.”
“Darling,” he says like he’s about to argue, and then just sighs. He rearranges his long legs on the bed, those big feet in thick socks. “There’s something we need to talk about.”
Shit. He’s dumping you. Your heart is suddenly galloping in your chest, fear slicing through your belly.
“Nothing bad,” he says quickly, picking up on your anxiety. “I’ve just done some thinking… about having you satisfied.”
“Baby—” you protest.
“Need you to listen now, alright?” He exhales a deep breath, his eyes tracing over your nude body and then back to your face. “Would you fancy having one of my mates fuck you?”
You blink in shock, unconvinced for a few seconds that you even heard him correctly. That’s— that’s not even in the realm of an option. 
He’s always been up front with you about his trauma, how he can’t stomach touch unless it’s non-sexual. You’ve always known it would just be only you taking care of your own needs, and it’s something you’re more than happy to accept, because you love him. 
“Have—” you pause to swallow down the hurt, your thoughts racing in all the worst possible directions. “Have you been offering… that… to your friends?”
“Fuck, no,” he swears, agast, and that makes you breathe a little easier. “Haven’t spoken with anyone.”
“Then what—“
“It’s Johnny. I wondered if you would let Johnny fuck you sometimes, when you need it.”
Johnny. As in his best friend, Johnny. You’ve only met the guy a couple of times, because Simon claims he sees him at work every day already, and likes to keep his home life separate.
But how could you even conceptualize doing something like that? Letting someone else touch you when you’re in love with Simon. 
“L-like… just go get it out of my system? Like go over to his house once a month or something?” You’re endeavoring to understand, but that sounds absolutely impossible to bring yourself to do.
“Nothing like that. We’d have him over here, where you’re comfortable, and I can be with you. Johnny’s a good lad, he knows about… things that happened.”
Johnny. Here in this bed, putting his hands on you. Fucking you. Jesus, you haven’t been fucked in so long.
“I think—“ you start to say, clamping your knees tightly shut. “I think maybe we should talk about it some other time, when I’m not horny.”
Your boyfriend tilts his head at you, noting the twitch of your fingers on your stomach. “I think this is the perfect time to talk about what you need, love. How you might enjoy yourself.”
It’s been too long, that’s the only explanation. It’s the only reason you can think of that you're suddenly imagining with painful clarity exactly how nice it would feel to have someone hold you against them and finger you. How it would feel to get your neck kissed and sucked on. How wonderful it would be to get to cum on something that’s thick and male, to have big hands exploring your body.
His voice is low and soft when he speaks again, his gaze lingering on your blinky, unfocused eyes. “I think you should touch yourself while we talk about this.”
You suck in a stuttered inhale at the warmth blossoming between your legs. It’s so different, getting off from clinical, detached stimulation, versus feeling yourself get wet with desire. Desire is something you haven’t allowed yourself to feel in a long time, couldn’t infringe on Simon’s autonomy that way, even in your own head.
You should say no. You should wait to think about this when you have some space between yourself and your needs, so you can imagine all the worst possible outcomes, and question every motive he might have.
But you don’t.
Dutifully your knees fall to the sides, and you dip your fingers once again between your legs.
“Sweet little thing,” Simon says in that voice that no one else gets to hear, reaching out to run his thumb down the edge of your jaw. 
It feels like far more than just an innocent touch, when you’re this aroused, and your skin is so hungry for contact. You close your eyes and work your fingers a little faster over your clit, soaking in the deliciousness of his attention. 
“Been waiting so patiently, haven’t you? My sweetheart just needing to get her pussy licked the way it’s meant to be.”
Your fingers come to a startled stop, eyes flying open and head tilting back to get a solid look at your boyfriend, who has never once spoken to you like that. 
He just lets his eyes lazily coast over your features, dragging his fingertips to your hairline to play with the strands. “God, you’re pretty.”
Heart beating fast, and pussy noticeably wetter than before, you go back to touching yourself, and focusing on the comforting motion of his fingers in your hair. 
“I would love to see you relaxing for once, getting taken care of.”
You make an appreciative noise, turning your face into the pillow so you can imagine it. 
“You deserve to get that little clit adored for as long as you could want it.”
Okay, that’s a little too far out there, even for your ridiculous imagination. Simon must have a screwed up idea of what men are willing to do. They always brag about stuff like eating you out all night, but they’ll never actually do it. 
Two of your fingers slide into your pussy, because talking about this makes you want to be fucked. Simon’s gone silent though, so you tilt your head back up to watch him. His eyes are on the frustrated movements of your fingers, failing to get deep enough to really satisfy. You must have a bit of your struggle coming through in your expression, because when his gaze flicks back to your face, he gives you a sympathetic look. 
“I know, darling. You need that so badly, don’t you?”
God, why is he still talking to you like that? It’s really, really hot, but are you allowed to enjoy it? Surely you are.
“Yeah,” you whisper, finally letting yourself relax into the whole dirty talk thing. 
“You’d like to be moved around, and put where you’re wanted, wouldn’t you?”
Oh, fuck, how does he know that? You've been quite careful not to betray what it does to you, the way he's always carting you around as if your legs don't work.
“Yeah. I—“ You’re getting a little breathless now, starting to take hold of the edge of your orgasm. “I would like that.”
“We’d start slow. Get you used to being handled, and let you and Johnny get accustomed to each other. Get you used to cumming on something warm.”
Shit, fuck. You abandon your pussy without conscious thought, going back to your clit which is suddenly throbbing and uncomfortable. This is vastly different from all the other times he's kept you company for this. His eyes are practically burning into you with some type of excitement, though he doesn't let the rest of his face betray it. It's only because you know him so well that you see the unusual gleam there, and suspect that if you put your hand on his chest right now, his heart would be hitting your palm in a gallop. 
“That’s good, darling. Keep touching. Does it help to think about what you’re going to do with Johnny?”
You try to make an affirmative noise, but it comes out all whimpery because your body likes this. He's interacting with your sexual desire for the first time, running his thumb over the crown of your head and watching you so intently that the orgasm warming your legs is starting to feel unavoidable.
“I know it does, it’s alright. Pretty little wet things like you are meant to be touched and loved on.”
“Keep talking, it feels good.” It’s humiliating to beg like this with your fingers glued between your legs, but you’re getting too turned on to care. 
Simon just smiles at you in that warm way, the slight curve of his mouth that doesn’t have even a hint of malice or dishonesty behind it. You’ve grown to trust it implicitly. 
“Maybe some day when you’re a little more used to being played with, you’d want to try some new things with Johnny."
"Oh, we're getting kinky?" you tease, though you're breathing too fast to make it sound casual.
"I think if you felt quite comfortable and safe, you might like to have someone decide when you get to cum.”
“Oh my god,” you whisper, face screwing up at the unexpected lance of heat in your belly. 
His thumb brushes your forehead, into your hair. “Nothing too serious, just a little delay. You're such a good girl when you need to cum, I think you would like it."
You would do absolutely anything for that. In fact, your finger is hesitating right now, trembling a centimeter above your clit to prevent the orgasm that almost took hold of you. You didn’t even know this kind of dirty talk was an option, and now you’re quite concerned that when you cum, he’ll stop.
He makes a soft, interested noise. “Would you like that, darling?”
“Uh huh.”
“You deserve a chance to try those things," he murmurs. 
“Keep talking, please.”
“If you’ll keep touching,” he bargains. 
With a sigh, you reluctantly put your fingers back to work, your body now alight with anticipation for what he’ll say next.
“Hmm, let’s see. I’d wager Johnny could find out exactly how many times you can cum before it gets to be too much. I’ve always wondered.”
“I haven’t gotten past two,” you admit, trying to focus on the sensation so you don’t accidentally tip yourself over.  
“Finding out is fun though, isn’t it? Because even if you can’t cum again, you’ll be making such pretty noises while you try.”
With a rapid, sputtery breath, you yank your fingers away, and let that surge of pleasure melt away to nothing once again. “Baby,” you gasp, as if it’s his fault that you can’t allow this to end. 
“We’re going to get it taken care of, one way or another, I swear. But I really think Johnny will say yes. He thinks you’re quite pretty.”
Simon looks pointedly at your hand, so you dutifully rub your finger over your poor, sensitized clit, and blink up at him. “Do you think he’d be a little rough with me, if I asked? Like, later on?”
Wait, that was a mistake, you should have kept that to yourself. Why the fuck would you say something like that to your traumatized boyfriend, like some kind of pervert? You get so stupid when you’re this close to cumming.
Simon just presses his lips into a half smile, smoothing his thumb affectionately against your cheek. “Of course. You can have whatever you want. If it’s too much for me, I’ll make myself scarce for a few—“
“No,” you protest immediately, gripping your wet fingers onto your thigh. “I don’t want you gone, ever. If you’re not there, I don’t want it. This right now is like the kinkiest thing that’s ever happened to me, so don’t even act like I’ll be missing out if it’s just normal sex.”
“Hmm, alright.”
You exhale in relief that he’s not arguing the point, and let your hand drift down to rest on your lower belly.
“You’re not touching.”
“I’m going to cum if I touch.”
“What are you waiting for?” he asks curiously. 
A hot shiver trickles down your spine. “I don’t want it to end.”
“It won’t, love." He waits for your your fingers to find your clit again, and for your eyes to slide shut, and he whispers, "Someday very soon, you’re going to get to cum while you’re bent over the bed, and someone’s hand is keeping your head pressed nicely into the covers. You won’t have to think about anything but staying right there and getting fucked, and you’ll be able to just relax, and take it for as long as you’re meant to.”
You tried to hold out, you really did, but the orgasm took you by the throat. You’re gasping pitiful little cries up at the ceiling, because you don’t have the brainpower to focus your eyes on his face even if you tried. 
So, apparently you’re going to fuck his best friend. 
And apparently you’re going to like it.
Next Part
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Dividers by @the-aesthetics-shop
Chronological Read-Through Path
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betweenstorms · 4 months ago
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Part Two of Where We Part (previous chapter) (next chapter) (masterlist) Childhood Friend!Simon x fem!Reader
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Time has a funny way of slipping through your fingers, doesn’t it?
The years passed as they do, quietly, relentlessly and somehow, unintentionally you followed Simon Riley’s advice, no matter how much it stung during that particular summer night.
You grew older, wiser, or at least you hoped you did. 
At the end of that warm, suburban summer, you left Manchester behind, moved to London for university, found yourself caught up in the complexity of adulthood, chasing dreams, making mistakes, falling in love, losing it. You lived your life, embraced its peaks and valleys, and let it sweep you along. Some days were golden, like those late summer days in your twenties when laughter was easy, love felt endless, and the world seemed filled with promise. You travelled with your new friends from university, gelato dripping down your wrist as you laughed under the bright Sicilian sun, the loud conversation with your girls echoing across the cobblestone streets. You invited your parents to London several times, playing tourist with them, showing them your new apartment, savouring moments of connection between the gaps of your new life and their old one. And then there was the day your boyfriend knelt before you, a ring glinting in the rose gold streetlights of Paris, asking you to be his fiancée.
Oh, it was the kind of moment you had always dreamed of, the fairy tale that every little girl secretly hopes will come true.
But life isn’t all dreams, is it?
You wept like a child, your heart shattered when you found out about the affair. Your fiancé, with your college roommate of all people. It felt like betrayal layered upon betrayal, and the sadness you carried then weighed more than all the joy of your past put together, manifested in the hollow echoes of your aching sobs in the shared flat you once called home. You moved out shortly after that incident.
Unfortunately, there were other disappointments, too. Failed job interviews, missed opportunities, the loneliness that seeped into your bones in those years after university, when friends began to drift away and the beauty of childhood transforms into a fading memory. But you picked yourself up. You always did. Because that’s what you did. That’s what you knew best. You kept moving, because the alternative, sinking, was unthinkable.
But through it all, you lived.
And you wouldn’t change a thing even if you had the chance.
You threw yourself into your work, into the messy and beautiful chaos of life. There were still some moments where you felt like you had the world at your feet, laughing with your high school mates over beers in dingy pubs, watching the sun set over London’s skyline, those spontaneous trips to the coast where you tasted freedom in every salty breeze. And you moved forward, not necessarily because you wanted to, but because time forced you to.
But that was fine by you.
And in the quiet corners of your mind, Simon Riley became a distant thought—like the chorus of a song you used to know like the back of your hand. You thought of him less and less as the years went by, as your life became more complicated, more full.
You took his words to heart, didn’t you?
You left him behind.
But still, he lingered.
There were those times, in the early years, when your parents would call, giving you updates on Manchester, on the neighbours, on the old street you grew up on. You’d ask about the Rileys, casually, as if it didn’t really matter. You weren’t prying, not really, just curious. What had become of Simon? Of Tommy? Your parents mentioned Simon had joined the military at some point, which didn’t surprise you. He always carried a soldier’s weight, even as a boy.
They told you about Tommy too, how his life had spiralled out of control with drugs and the wreckage of his past trauma. Your mother sighed when she mentioned Mrs. Riley and how she had hit rock bottom. But Simon, when he returned from deployment, finally helped them rid themselves of Mr. Riley for good, breaking the cycle of abuse that had poisoned their lives for years.
Your parents even got a bit more involved in the Riley’s lives after that—dropping in with food, attending Tommy’s wedding with a kind soul named Beth, helping with little Joseph, their gorgeous newborn, who your mum absolutely adored. She’d tell you about him during your weekend catch-ups.
However, as time went on, the Rileys faded from your thoughts, a chapter you had quietly closed.
Your own life was blooming in London, despite the mistakes you made along the way. You loved fiercely, lost greatly, and found your way back to yourself time and again. The more you lived, the less you thought about the boy who once lived next door.
Until that cold September afternoon.
The air was ice cold, but not just from the weather. It was the kind of chill that settled deep in your bones, the kind that gnawed at you long after the sun had set during winter.
The day had been unremarkable at first—work was its usual rhythm of meetings and emails, the sound of your co-workers chattering as a familiar background noise. But then your phone rang, your mother’s weak voice trembling on the other end like the fragile crackle of dry leaves in the wind during autumn.
You had heard your mother cry before.
The grief at a relative’s passing, the heartache of a goodbye too long drawn out—but this was different. Her sobs were frantic, her rushed words spilling over each other in terrified, broken fragments, so hurried you could hardly catch the meaning.
“The Rileys… oh God, love, the Rileys are gone…”
It took you a moment to grasp what she was saying.
Gone? How? You sat frozen, the world around you blurring as your mum’s words came in and out like waves crashing against the shore.
“Dear Lord, some maniac... a psychopath… some madman…” she choked. “He killed them. Killed them all. Tommy, Beth, even little Joseph, an innocent baby, Oh God…”
You could hear your mother’s quiet anguish, but it was as though you were outside yourself, hearing everything from a great distance.
The Rileys. Dead. It didn’t make sense. Mrs. Riley, Tommy, Beth, the child—how could they be gone? The thought was too large and too grotesque to fully comprehend. It was like a nightmare, one you couldn’t wake up from.
“And… Simon?”
A name you hadn’t uttered in years.
A name that had always lingered on the edges of your memory, like a shadow cast by fading light.
Your mother’s breath caught. “I don’t know. Oh, love. He wasn’t there… I think he’s still in the military, but… we don’t know, we were asleep, didn’t hear a thing.”
She was crying again, her sobs muffled by the phone. Her sobs broke through, and she confessed, through gasps of guilt, that she and your father had been sound asleep when it happened, oblivious to the horror just next door. The sanctuary of your childhood, the quiet safety of the neighbourhood, shattered in a mere second.
Your mind raced, your heart thundering in your chest.
Oh, all those years, all those moments where you hadn’t thought about Simon Riley, and now, now the past was clawing its way back, forcing you to confront something you had thought you’d left behind.
Your coworkers looked up, sensing something was wrong. One of them asked if you were okay, if you needed anything, but you barely heard them. You wanted to scream, to cry, to do anything, but all you could do was tremble. Your hands squeezed as you gripped your phone, trying to keep your voice steady as you told your mother you’d drive up to Manchester right away, that you’d be there soon. When the call ended, and you were out the door before you had time to gather your thoughts. The moments after that were a blur, your body on autopilot as you stumbled to your car. The urgency to get there, to understand what had happened, burned through you, like liquid fire in your veins.
But fate, it seemed, had other plans.
Pain hit you suddenly, sharp and overwhelming, something you’ve never felt before. It started as a dull ache in your lower stomach, but it intensified rapidly until you were doubled over, gasping for breath. You couldn’t drive, you couldn’t think. By the time you finally made it to your flat, the pain had become unbearable. Something was wrong, you knew. Terribly wrong.
You had to call for an ambulance, your hands shaking as you dialled the number.
However, you weren’t thinking about yourself as they wheeled you into the hospital, weren’t listening to the doctor’s voice as he explained the situation—appendicitis, nothing lethal, a routine surgery, and you’d be fine but you had to stay still.
Throughout your surgery, all you could think about was Simon. The boy who had grown into a man who you barely knew anymore, the man who had lived through hell and had come back to face it once again. Was he back in Manchester? Was he grieving? Or had he been claimed by the same nightmare that had taken the rest of his family?
After the surgery, you lay in the hospital bed, staring at the ceiling, tears streaming down your face. It wasn’t the pain of your own body that made you cry—it was the helplessness, the not knowing, the fear that somewhere out there, Simon, your childhood friend, was lost, alone, and there was nothing you could do to help him.
You spent the first few hours after the surgery drifting between sleep and wakefulness, your mind clouded with both painkillers and the overwhelming ache of uncertainty. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw flashes of the past—memories of Manchester, the Rileys, Simon. The years blurred, and for a moment, you could almost feel the gentle summer sun on your skin again, hear the distant murmur of a time that seemed too far gone.
But the present was relentless.
Your parents arrived in London as quickly as they could, your mother staying by your side, fussing over you as she had when you were a child. Her hands were warm, but her eyes betrayed her fear. Fear for you, fear for what had happened back in Manchester. She stayed while your father left for the funeral—the collective service for the Rileys, held only a week after their brutal end.
You couldn’t go, of course. Fucking appendicitis.
The thought of missing that final goodbye gnawed at you. You couldn’t let it go. Therefore, you wrote. A letter. A really long letter. In the small hours of the night, with the hospital lights dimmed and the distant hum of machinery as your only company, you penned a letter.
The words didn’t come easily.
What could you possibly say to Simon Riley, after all these years? What could you write that would bring him any semblance of comfort, any understanding in the face of such senseless tragedy? How could you explain to him how sorry you were? Sorry for what had happened to his family, sorry that you weren’t there when he needed someone most, sorry for all the years you’d spent avoiding the memories of your childhood, of him. But you had to try.
You wrote with a trembling hand, pouring everything you couldn’t say aloud into that letter, every apology that had been lodged in your throat for years. You tied it to your father’s soul, knowing he would deliver it to Simon, wherever he might be. And your father, with his quiet strength, promised he would.
When the day of the funeral came, you lay in your bed, imagining the cold September air, the way the ground must have looked under the grey Manchester sky. You pictured the small crowd, neighbours, and friends from the community, all standing in sombre silence as the Rileys were laid to rest. But what haunted you most was the image of Simon—if he was even there at all. You wondered if he stood apart from the others, his broad shoulders hunched, his face unreadable as ever. Or maybe he hadn’t come at all, disappearing into the shadows once again, as he always had.
The week crawled by, each day dragging longer than the last. Your mother stayed by your side, but the quiet weight of what had happened in Manchester pressed down on both of you. Your father returned, but there was no news of Simon. Your dad told you that they didn’t talk much. No sight of him after the funeral. No trace of him in the days after. He had vanished, leaving behind an empty house and a tragedy too vast to comprehend. And when you finally recovered enough to leave the hospital, you made the trip back to Manchester with your mother.
The familiar streets felt like a ghost of themselves—places once filled with memories now overshadowed by the grim reality of what had happened. The Riley house stood empty, its windows dark, the air around it thick with loss. You stood at the gate for a long time, staring at the house that had once been so full of life, of pain, of everything in between. But now, it was nothing. Just a shell. Just another haunted corner of your past.
There were no answers. No signs of Simon.
And in the end, after a week of trying to help your parents, after a week of grieving and remembering, you left. You packed your things and drove back to London, promising yourself you’d never return. The city you had once called home felt cursed now, and the memories it held were too heavy to bear.
You couldn’t escape the past, though. Not really. 
The promise you made to yourself all those years ago, to never return to that godforsaken city, was one you kept for a long time. It wasn’t out of spite or bitterness, but rather out of a quiet resignation. You had moved on, created a life in London that was full of both the mundane and the extraordinary. And after your parents moved to Wimbledon, following your father’s cancer diagnosis, the ties to Manchester became even more frayed.
It wasn’t until your thirty-seventh birthday that you found yourself heading back to the place you swore you’d never return to.
Not for family, not for closure, but for something as trivial and absurd as a fucking high school reunion. It had started with a sudden phone call from one of your old mates, the same group you used to run around with in your youth.
You hadn’t heard from them in years. Well, apart from the occasional likes on Instagram posts or an awkwardly short birthday text.
“Eighteen bloody years,” your friend had said, her voice bright and insistent. “You’ve been stuck in London with your fancy life, and we’ve barely seen you. Time to get your arse back here and have a pint with the group, eh? It’s been too long, girl.”
You laughed it off at first, citing your tight work schedule and your responsibilities. But the more she talked, the more you realised how long it had been since you’d even thought about that part of your life. A simpler time, before the complexities of adulthood and all its responsibilities weighed on you.
So you agreed. You didn’t really know why, maybe out of a sense of pure nostalgia or maybe out of some lingering guilt.
The drive up to Manchester was long, and your nerves sat uneasily in your chest. What would it be like to see those familiar faces again, to walk the streets that had once been the backdrop of your childhood? Would it feel like home? Or would it feel like you didn’t belong anymore, a ghost walking through memories?
However, by the time you saw the familiar landmarks, something in you began to settle. The nervousness faded, replaced by a strange calmness, as if the city itself recognised you and offered some kind of unspoken truce. You arrived at the pub where your reunion was being held—the same one you used to frequent during your teenage years. It was a dive, the kind of place that hadn’t aged well, but that’s exactly what made it feel like time had stood still.
Inside, the air was warm, thick with the smell of beer and the hum of conversation. And then there they were, your dear friends, sitting in a corner, laughing just like they always did. The moment you walked in, it was as if no time had passed at all. They greeted you with familiar smiles, pulling you into tight hugs and offering you a pint almost immediately.
The conversation flowed easily, old jokes resurfacing, stories being retold with exaggerated details and you found yourself chuckling. No, truly laughing, in a way you hadn’t done in what felt like ages. The weight of the years melted away, and for those brief hours, you felt like you were a teenager again, full of life and possibility, untouched by the heaviness that had since followed you. Oh, you hadn’t even realised how much you missed it, missed them. The simplicity of it all. The foolishness of youth.
As the night wore on, you found yourself drinking more than you should have. The beers went down easy, their familiar taste blending with the warm laughter and nostalgia. You hadn’t had a drink in a while, not properly, and it didn’t take long for the alcohol to loosen your limbs and soften the edges of reality. You felt light-headed, slightly detached from your surroundings but in that comfortable way that comes with the perfect level of drunkenness. Your words were slurring a bit, your laughter louder, but you didn’t mind.
Not tonight.
Eventually, the haze became a bit too much, and you excused yourself from the table. You needed fresh air, a moment for yourself to step away from the heat of the pub and the noise of the reunion. You fumbled with your jacket as you headed for the back of the building, where the designated smoking area was. It was behind the pub, near the dimly lit, empty parking lot, and as you made your way there, you nearly tripped over a discarded bottle on the ground.
“Bloody hell,” you muttered under your breath, the curse falling easily from your lips. Even small inconveniences seemed dramatic when you were tipsy. Some habits never died.
When you reached the smoking area, you were grateful to see it wasn’t crowded. Just one man, standing off to the side, leaning against the wall of the building, a cigarette dangling from his lips as he took a long drag. The tip of the cig glowed bright orange in the darkness. His silhouette seemed larger than life, almost unreal in the way he stood. He was massive, the kind of bloke you’d notice even in a crowded room, let alone in the quiet of the night.
Tall as a statue but built like a brick wall—shoulders broad and thick with muscle, his frame nearly filling the space between the wall and the edge of the lot.
At first, you stopped, startled by his size.
He was the sort of man you’d expect to see guarding the door, maybe a bouncer or a security guard. That made sense, considering how much physical strength he had. You nodded at him out of politeness, the way you do when you make eye contact with a stranger and want to acknowledge their presence without committing to a conversation. His gaze lingered on you, sharp and calculating.
Why was he looking at you like that?
You quickly turned away, feeling oddly self-conscious, and pulled out your cig, attempting to light it. But of course, as your luck would have it, your lighter chose that moment to give up on you. No matter how many times you flicked the damn thing, it refused to spark.
“Seriously?” you muttered, cursing your luck again. The bravado of the alcohol in your system pushed you to turn towards your only companion, flashing him an awkward smile. “Hi. Hello. Any chance you’ve got a lighter, mate?”
The man didn’t speak at first.
He just watched you, observed you, his expression unreadable, his eyes dark and reflective under the dim light of the parking lot. There was something oddly familiar about the way he held himself, something in the way he stared at you that sent a ripple of recognition through you, but you couldn’t quite place it.
Without a word, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a black, well-worn lighter, and flicked it open. The flame sparked to life, small but steady, and he leaned forward, offering it to you. You stepped closer, holding your cigarette to the flame.
As you did, you couldn’t help but take a better look at him.
His face was mostly obscured by the dim lighting, but his features were hard and chiselled. His nose was crooked, as if it had been broken more than once, with a small scar running through his upper lip. His lips were thin, pressed into a line that gave nothing away, and the faint lines around his eyes hinted at a man who had lived through more than most. However, it was his gaze, those beautiful hazel eyes, that stopped you cold. They were sharp, almost piercing, and there was something else behind them—an intensity that made your stomach tighten.
For a moment, you thought it might just be the alcohol playing tricks on you, but the longer you looked, the more certain you became. There was no mistaking it.
Those eyes, guarded and haunted, belonged to Simon Riley.
“Thanks,” you muttered, taking a quick drag from your cig, stepping back, trying to act casual even though your heart was racing.
There was something about his presence, something that felt both familiar and distant at the same time. It had been years, after all. You’d moved on, or so you thought. But standing here now, the weight of the past pressed down on you, the memories flooding back like a tide you couldn’t hold back. This random bloke before you… yes, the resemblance was mad uncanny. You stole glances at the giant man, unsure, your mind buzzing with uncertainty and the effects of the alcohol. Was it really him? Could it be?
You hesitated, your hand trembling slightly as you took another drag from your cigarette. You wanted to ask, but the words stuck in your throat, too afraid to sound foolish. Too afraid that if you asked, you’d break whatever fragile moment this was. But before you could find the courage to speak, the man sighed.
That sigh.
It was unmistakable—quiet, irritated, as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders and he was tired of carrying it. It was the same sigh you’d heard all those years ago, on that warm summer night beneath the street lamps.
“Fuckin' hell,” he muttered under his breath, the deep, rough rumble of his voice sending a shiver down your spine. “S’me. Stop gawkin'.”
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emmg · 5 months ago
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I want Solas to go full "tragic, emotionally unavailable, disappointed stepfather who’s constantly on the verge of tears" on Rook.
Like, this man is done. He’s stuck in the Fade, possibly forever, with the person who singlehandedly derailed his ancient, meticulously planned ritual. Now, instead of pulling the god-killing lever himself, he’s got Rook, who can't even pull their shoes on without falling over.
Might as well adopt them, right? Since this is his life now.
But here’s the twist: every interaction is just Solas trauma dumping like it’s his new favorite hobby.
It’s like the entire journey is just Solas remembering how much better Lavellan was at literally everything, and Rook being forced to listen to the most tragic, histrionic commentary ever while bumbling through the apocalypse.
Rook: "So... I found this artifact we need to stop the gods—"
Solas: deep, world-weary sigh “Ah, yes, that artifact. Ellana once pulled one just like it... from a pile of bear dung. She didn't even flinch. She was so graceful, so brave. You... well, you’re holding it upside down. I... suppose that’s a start.”
Every step of the journey, Solas is spiraling deeper into a well of despair that Rook accidentally dug.
Rook: trips over nothing
Solas: eyes glistening with the weight of a thousand broken dreams "Ellana never tripped. She glided across the ground as if Mythal herself carried her. You... you fall like the world is conspiring against you. Perhaps it is."
And then there’s the constant emotional whiplash of him being both disappointed and overly dramatic, as if Rook is physically siphoning his will to live.
Rook: "So we need this rune to—"
Solas: "Ellana carved runes like they were extensions of her very soul. She would have whispered the words to the stones themselves, and they would have sung in response. But you... yes, go ahead. Scribble on the ground like a child with a crayon. I’m sure the Fade will be very impressed."
He’s so wrecked that it’s painful to watch, and yet... he’s the one who dumped her. Solas is out here, pouring his heart out about Ellana like he didn’t personally decide to break up with her to pursue his ancient, god-killing, megalomaniacal goals. It’s like watching a Shakespearean tragedy unfold, but the tragedy is just… him.
Rook: "So... do we take this path or the other—"
Solas: staring longingly into the void "Ellana would have known. Instinctively. She always knew which path to take. But you... sigh... you stand there, confused, as if the very concept of a 'left turn' is foreign to you. How... fitting."
Rook: "It’s literally just a left or right choice—"
Solas: voice cracking "Ellana would have chosen left. She would have led us... together. But no. Now I must follow you. Into the unknown. Alone. Forever."
He’s not even trying to hide the fact that he’s emotionally wrecked. Every single time he mentions Lavellan, it’s like watching someone recite their own tragic poetry at an open mic night—except the mic is the only thing keeping him from sobbing.
Rook: “So we just need to—”
Solas: cutting them off “Ellana once saved an entire village using only her wit and a single lockpick. And now, here we are. Together. Alone. In the Fade. It’s fine. I’m... fine.”
Rook: quietly “Are you though?”
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depressedraisin · 9 months ago
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yes claudia is a fucking otherworldly powerful vampiress, ruthless killing machine etc etc but also...her story is just the story of every young woman ever??? she's been through experiences worth many lifetimes over, yet she is forever 'the little girl'. she never got a say in the life she has been thrust into. she has to bear the burden of the complex emotions of the only guardian figure in her life. the men around her seemingly can't do anything but use her, abuse her and disappoint her. she is full of potential and brilliance but never gets a chance to explore all of it to its full extent. her joy and optimism is constantly crushed. her voice is constantly smothered. she is never taken seriously. she is terribly, terribly lonely. she is forever curious. she is never afraid to ask questions. her trauma is read and dissected and commented upon. she doesn't get a say in how it's represented anymore. her greatest transgression is that she dares to take up too much space and fight for herself. my heart breaks for her. claudia de pointe du lace deserves the world </3
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jasmines-library · 4 months ago
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Good Enough
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⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤
WHUMPTOBER DAY FIFTEEN :Prompt: Childhood trauma/"i did good, right?"
Summary: After Bruce rescued you from an abusive family and adopted you into his own, you worry that you haven't done well enough for him on your first patrol.
Warnings: mentions of an abusive family.
Word count: 700
MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER 2024
⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤
You had been training for this your entire life. Or at least your entire life with Bruce Wayne. He had taken you in from a young age. He had seen your potential and rescued you from an abusive situation. He took you from your lowest; from a place where you were unappreciated, to one where you were loved and cherished. Bruce had trained you hard over the years, helping to build up your abilities brick by brick. He had given you something to work towards. And you had finally gotten there. But you felt like you had to repay him. Like you had to live up to the expectations cast down on you from the generations of previous Robins. 
An anxious feeling simmered in your chest as you shadowed Batman through the city. This was your first patrol, and the anxiety had forged together with this unexplainable excitement that bubbled up inside you. It was exhilarating. Darting across the rooftops was all that you had imagined yet so much more at the same time. It was supposed to be a nice, quiet and easy night based on recent activity in Gotham. But of course nothing is ever simple and soon you and Bruce were dashing over to the other side of the city to stop some thieves from robbing a high end jewellery store. 
You skidded to a halt at the sound of smashing glass under the blaring of the sirens. You could see the thieves halfway down the street ahead of you, their bags full as they sprinted away. You were hot on their heels forcing your legs to go faster as you tried to keep up with Bruce and to catch them. The pair turned a corner down an alleyway. This was your chance. You knew the streets well; you had been studying them as part of your training. So, instead of following them you continued on straight before taking a left coming out in front of them. 
The thieves didn’t notice you at first and proceeded to hop the fence before landing straight in front of you. You readied your weapon and adopted a fighting stance like you had been taught. You were ready to fight. But the minute they straightened up, you were hit with an immense sense of fear. 
They looked like your parents. 
Tall and lean, the figures now resembled your birth parents as they loomed before you. Their words rang in your ears, telling you how much of a disappointment you were. How you were a waste of space. Ungrateful. You froze. Lost for a moment as you were struck with all of your childhood trauma. But then you caught a glimpse of Batman’s cape and were reminded of why you were out here. Reminded that you were loved. 
Raising you weapon you lunged forwards first. Landing a quick blow to the shorter criminal’s side, you tackled them down to the ground. Very quickly, Batman joined in the fight and the alley was filled with a flurry of punches and rouge kicks. It didn’t take long before the two were on the ground and in handcuffs, ready for the GCPD to take away. 
Batman straightened and placed his hands on his hips as he took in your work. He then turned to you, his gaze impossible to tell from under his mask. He could tell that there was a slight hint of fear underlying the look you had plastered on your face. So, he crouched down to your level, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. He could tell that something was up, but he wasn’t quite sure what. 
You swallowed thickly before asking nervously “I….i did good, right?”
Bruce’s face softened almost sadly. He knew that you had been through a lot. Far too much for anyone to go through, let alone a child. “So good, kiddo.”
“...you mean it?”
He gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze before deciding to just pull you straight into a hug. “Of course. I’m so, so proud of you. You did amazing, kiddo. Better than I could have ever asked for.”
⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤
<- DAY FOURTEEN ⛧ DAY SIXTEEN ->
⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤
TAGS:
@hearts4robs @kingshitonly @alicedawitchbish @hell-o-kittys @azure-drag0ness @harleycao @thewhispersofthewaves @batfamsstuff @xxrougefangxx @rosecentury @noisymutantherelol @killxz @rhiodes @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @canthavetoomuchchaos
⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤
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punkpandapatrixk · 10 months ago
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❤️‍🩹I Just Want to be Loved ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card
We attract terrible loves for various reasons; so many lessons; but now sorrow has got to lessen. Let’s reveal patterns by exhuming roots. We’ve got to stop this cycle of disappointments. Done being made to feel as if we’re hard to love.
We’re not hard to love. Many of us were simply denied love, warmth and affection as we were growing up… Don’t know how to love self; don’t know how to love others; basically don’t know how to even receive Love… Who’s to blame now?
Why the hell were so many children denied love, warmth, affection…?
What are you going to do with yourself when you were denied love, warmth and affection as you were growing up?
☆♪°・.
‘The child who isn’t embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth.’ – an African proverb
People denied warmth and affection tend to fall into a desperate loop of fishing for attention as a result of love-deficiency, right? Some learn to lick love off a knife; some pursue success (whatever that means) all too frantically; some…shoot complete strangers in broad daylight; and some who ain’t got the guts to murder complete strangers in public places go instead for antagonising strangers on social media… Gosh, that is desperate.
But you know what, not all hope is lost because there’s still plenty of us who are blessed with this incredibly RARE thing called self-awareness. There are plenty of us who will take our traumas to the graveyard than pass them down the next generations.
You, don’t deserve to have your sanity and your Life ruined by some psychos who didn’t know how to love you. Reclaim lost pieces of yourself by understanding THREE Houses in your natal chart, babe:
4th House: your roots; tells you what was lacking in your home; explains your erratic 10th House ambitions
8th House: your marriage or your desire for a bond like it; this the House where trauma manifests itself in full spectrum
11th House: your wish fulfilment; where you connect with people who support your visions; breeds a healthy sense of connection, even community
SONG: Emptiness by BoA
MOVIE: Breakfast at Tiffany’s (1961)
[PAC Masterlist] [Part 2] [Part 3]
[Patreon] [Paid Readings]
☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.
Pile 1 – Because I Can’t Even Trust Myself
VIBE: Trust by Hamasaki Ayumi
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lost pieces (pertaining to 4th House) – Ace of Pentacles Rx
It’s clear your childhood didn’t offer a sense of stability or security—the physical kind that children usually need. It could be that a grownup left early or it could be that you moved around a lot, so you easily lost contact with new friends you’d just made. In essence, it feels like you grew up feeling ‘everything disappears eventually; everyone leaves eventually’.
Some of you might’ve grown up not having a lot of material resources, but for the majority of you tuning into this Pile, it was more a feeling of a lack of warmth. For children, the pain of neglect and a lack of emotional connection do really affect our physical health more severely. You might’ve grown up poor and sickly due to all the grownups around you being inattentive, unaffectionate, and just…unreliable at best.
Because of this awareness, from a young age you realised you would have to do everything yourself. You wanted to grow up quickly and do your own things your own ways. It’s not like you had to grow up fast, you wanted to grow up fast to have your freedom and power! It was…hard to trust adults. It was hard to trust the world at large.
growing pains (pertaining to 8th House) – 8 of Pentacles
On the path of growing up, I think you became a hard worker of sort? This is very nuanced though—there are layers to your developing yourself to become a hardworking person. In many ways, you grew up responsible because you didn’t want to become like the adults who had disappointed you. But since this sense of ‘responsibility’ is a product of neglect and trauma…this is coming off as your feeling responsible for everything. Everything!
Some of you could’ve been too hard on yourself, expecting way too much for your age. You’ve felt like you’re always the one with everything to prove. It’s hard living like that. It feels like you’ve put so much effort into keeping everything together, and yet, nobody sees how much you care. Nobody truly understands the fear in your mind and pain you carry in your heart.
In matters of relationship, you cling extra hard to friends or lovers, too; because deep down you’re afraid of losing things and people, again and again. This unhealthy attachment—and to some extent, controlling behaviour—is truly your wounded inner child attempting frantically to keep your Reality from falling apart…
reclamation (pertaining to 11th House) – 4 of Cups
I’m very sure that at some point in Life, your Higher Self and team of Spirit Guides are going to kick in and meddle with your Earthly business. For some people, it’s possible you could lose contact with everybody you’ve ever known in Life and go into a hermit mode to find yourself again. For some, it could be that your whole Life is simply flipped, without necessarily losing key people in your Life, for you to look at Life and human connections from a very different point of view.
It’s going to be hard, of course. Emotionally, it could be devastating. Themes of abandonment and betrayal are big in your incarnation. But you know, ultimately, all of these challenges serve to remind you that the Cup of Love and Affection you’ve been looking for has always been right inside of you. You’ve had a bitter time with a lot of people because deep down you couldn’t trust them. You couldn’t trust other people’s loyalty because you didn’t even believe that you’re worthy of that Love and Loyalty you yearn for.
Your Spirit Guides are saying, that although at some point in Life things are going to get really tough, know that when you’ve graduated those lessons, you’re going to be rewarded with the most beautiful Soulmate-shit friendships, familyship and relationship. Truth be told, part of your Soul’s scenario in this incarnation is to find your Soul Tribe; and find your Tribe you shall~
A L O N E🔻💗
ALL of you – Red Alchemist (John Dee)
becoming ONE and whole – Priestess of Healing
Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸
☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.
Pile 2 – Misled by My Own Compassion
VIBE: Cry Me A River by Julie London
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lost pieces (pertaining to 4th House) – Knight of Cups
It’s very likely your 4th House is in a Water sign, but if not, you’re still very much a Water-y person; perhaps your Ascendant or Moon is in a Water sign, or that you have Neptune/Moon near/in your 4th, 7th or 11th House. All of this generally makes you a deeply compassionate person. No matter what outer appearances give, you strive to look deeper into a person’s Soul. You have so much empathy and you want to believe in the good of people.
Alas! This rotten world doesn’t make it too easy. This world is not a world where kindness and compassion are truly rewarded, if we don’t learn to be a tad cruel ourselves. You’re not in the wrong for being so genuinely good and compassionate; it’s this world that’s the wrong world. You know that? Therefore, it is paramount you learn to be a bitchilante! But I’m getting ahead of myself.
In spite of this PAC’s intro, I sense the majority of you tuning into this Pile actually grew up quite well. Many of you actually grew up in loving homes and that’s why it’s been quite challenging for you to grapple with the realness of the ugliness of the world outside of your loving home. Really…people in the real world…are monsters! And you were taken aback!
But some of you instead most likely grew up in chaotic, battlefield-esque homes and that’s why you’ve striven to be so good to a point of detriment.
growing pains (pertaining to 8th House) – 0 The Fool Rx
Be that as it may, you being you… Well, you do put in the effort to try and understand what makes monsters the way that they are, right? It’s all good and wonderful, until you get yourself in deep trouble where nobody can save you but your own monstrosity. Depending on your age when reading this, this could be something that’s happened in the past or will happen; where you will be forced to grow up in the sense of seeing the world as it is and get firm with assholes!
Dr Jordan Peterson has this gold shit to summarise this spiritual lesson you will be taking at some point in Life: ‘You should be a monster, an absolute monster, and then you should learn to control it.’ Well, that’s male speech. In female speech, we just say: ‘you gotta grow up and be a bitchilante!’
Be a bitch only to those who deserve it. How would you protect yourself from monsters if you don’t have the strength to fight them at their own game, darling? If you’re harmless, weak as a fawn, if anything, the real monsters in the world are going to toy with your sanity: ‘I saw my “crazy” side once and decided I wouldn’t be involved with anyone that would take me out of my peace like that ever again.’
Be a bitchilante. That whole concept of ‘good, harmless, love and light, positivity-only’ bullshit was put out there not to really make you good but to weaken you against the truly monstrous ones. WAKE UP, BITCH!
reclamation (pertaining to 11th House) – 4 of Pentacles
So? So what if you’re selective with your affection? Not everybody deserves your compassion. That’s for sure. There are many people in the world and you can’t be nice to all of them. One at point or another, you’re gonna be a villain in someone’s story—so what? Everybody else is the main character of their own Stories; that, you can’t control.
Be careful that you’re not falling victim to your own narcissism in wanting to be praised in everybody’s Story, yeah? So then, pertaining to your 11th House, weirdly enough, your wish fulfilment is in the form of a psychological liberation from your own idea of yourself in the minds of others. I sense that if you’re East Asian this is gonna resonate much harder and louder LOL
Anyway, I want to assure you that once you’ve graduated from your spiritual lessons, you will be met with unique, courageous, rebellious weirdos who will be just as clear as you are about what it truly means to be a good person in a world that’s often very bad. How good should a person be to truly be considered a good person?
‘If I offended you, cry me a river. I’ll bring snacks and a raft. I will literally float down your tears eating chips and working on my tan.’ – Fuckology
A L O N E🔻💚
ALL of you – Green Geographer (Gerardus Mercator)
becoming ONE and whole – Priestess of Success
Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸
☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.
Pile 3 – Lights Out; I’m Out to Find Myself
VIBE: To. X by Taeyeon
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lost pieces (pertaining to 4th House) – Ace of Cups Rx
I’ve to preface this Pile by saying this the pile that gets a little violent…
You were originally such a positive, happy-go-lucky kid, but quite early on, this world gave you so much darkness. So many reasons to be sad. It’s not been a very kind life, to be honest. Defo many of you have tragical placements here—your 4th or 5th House could start or end in Scorpio; have Lilith/Pluto/Chiron/Saturn there or in the sign of Cancer/Pisces; or it could be that your Venus/Moon is imprisoned in the 8th or 12th House and harshly aspected, too...
If your childhood has been violent or mightily confusing, it’s a group thing, OK? You can think like that. It’s not your fault. Know that practically everybody who has these harsh placements has gone through very similar things as you. So you’re really not the only one who’s failing—whatever that means. You’ve been gaslit a lot into believing there’s something wrong with you, but it was your environment that was just filled with totally terrible Human beings. That much I’d like to assure you.
It wasn’t natural how you were abused psychologically and emotionally. The people around you drew a parallel to Cinderella’s stepsisters in the Disney classic. It’s ridiculous like that. I think you grew up terribly lonely and created comfort characters in your head to console your sorrows? It’s very likely that your comfort characters were in actuality a mirror fragment of your Soul Family’s existence locked in your memory bank.
growing pains (pertaining to 8th House) – XIV Temperance Rx
Life, unfortunately, isn’t a Disney movie. As a result of the psychological and emotional abuse you’ve endured in childhood, your friendships and relationships might’ve been quite turbulent, at times even violent. Juuust a small number of you could’ve dealt with being called a violent kid, or you could’ve struggled with anger management and have terrible tantrums. All of these have made human connections quite difficult to navigate.
It’s not like you want to be a nasty person, right? Many times, you couldn’t help the way you react/respond to what’s being said and unsaid because, somehow, there are many things that people do and say that trigger a trauma response in you. There’s a very difficult Mars thingy going on here. I think many of you resonating with this Pile have some difficult Mars (ruler of Scorpio) placements/aspects that affect the way you manifest human connections in your Life.
Speaking in terms of synastry, it could be that you’ve attracted a great deal of people whose Mars aspected badly in your natal chart—consequently triggering bad traumas and manifesting violent outbursts in your connections. Ultimately though, these negative experiences with other people could’ve enforced your belief about how unlovable you are, which, really, is a false belief…
reclamation (pertaining to 11th House) – 5 of Wands
It is a false Reality that you’re unlovable or unworthy of a healthy relationship. That bullshit was implanted in you through the creation of a harsh environment that caused you a great deal of rage. Of course, you’re accountable for how you behave towards other people, but your foundation was never quite healthy or peaceful or harmonious, so… How about we put it all behind us and focus on healing? After all, it’s not like the people you’ve had a beef with were completely innocent? XP
It's kinda selfish to think like that, but you can depend on your own discernment to distinguish who amongst the people you’ve hurt or had a beef with to apologise to. Remember: sometimes apologies only make you weaker and looking at the unique bullshit astrological placements you were born with… apologising to the wrong fucker would only get you gaslit even more! So, don’t. Don’t apologise for the distress you experienced under other people’s lack of support.
Burn that bridge and detach yourself from that old stinking world. With your sheer willpower, you have it in you to rebuild your own little world of love and peace. After all, those harsh placements you were born with, are you aware of just how much power they bestow you? These placements come with a lot of turbulences but once you graduate your first Saturn Return, they also give you a burst of power unlike any other!
Lights out. Not entertaining aenergies that seek to nip your power at the bud anymore. Burn, baby, burn strong! Burn the whole Tower and find yourself on new lands~!
A L O N E🔻💜
ALL of you – Gold Alchemist (Roger Bacon)
becoming ONE and whole – Priestess of Solitude
Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸
☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.
[PAC Masterlist] [Part 2] [Part 3]
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littlejuicebox · 1 year ago
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My Sun, My Moon
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Pairing: Spawn Astarion x GN!Reader/Tav Summary/Setting: 6 months post BG3 / Part 2 to my other fic Astarion talks in his sleep. Rating/Warnings: PG-13 / In game spoilers / Alludes to sexual encounters / Mentions of past trauma etc / Pretty much all fluff / It’s so sweet it’s going to rot your teeth Word Count: 2.3K Notes: This is 5/5 Days of "Star-mas!"
*takes a bow* Happy Holidays! Hope you all enjoyed!
I'm also entering this into the #BG3HolidayFluffle23 challenge under the prompt "twinkling lights."
Click here to see my master list.
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After Astarion’s sleep-talking gave away his little secret, you’d spent nearly every waking moment anticipating the rogue’s proposal. You were horribly, terribly wrong every time, of course. You began to think that perhaps your original assumptions were right, and that an engagement would come much later on. Maybe he wasn’t quite ready. Maybe he was just planning and thinking about the future… the frustratingly distant future. He’d ask the question when he was ready, you reasoned; in his own time and on his own terms. You could respect that.
But then, on the eve of the Netherbrain Battle’s six month anniversary, you came home to a dinner that Astarion had cooked (almost) entirely himself. Candles were lit, table settings were placed, and your lover chose an expensive wine pairing for the meal. His steak was, of course, entirely raw while yours was seasoned and cooked to perfection. You were certain you had Shadowheart to thank for your half of the meal, but you’d complimented your lover and all his efforts, nonetheless. At the end of dinner, you were quite confident that this would be the moment you’d been waiting weeks for.
“I have something to say.” Astarion murmured, lithe fingers rubbing circles on the back of your hand as he clasped it in his own.
You practically felt your soul leave your body in that moment. Oh gods, you knew what your answer would be, you knew this was coming, and yet here it was, and you were still wholly unprepared. You barely fumbled out a, “Y-yes, my love? What is it?”
“I read your mail.” Astarion responded, his eyes flooding full of guilt at the confession. He expelled a small sigh, flicking his gaze up at the ceiling and then back down to you. “Darling, I know we have been discussing this for months, but I really don’t think we should go to the Underdark. You’re getting so many outstanding offers that require you to remain in the city. You’re the hero of Baldur’s Gate, for god’s sakes. I know you want me to be safe from the sun… but I can’t, in good conscience, do that to you and rip you away from so many wonderful opportunities.”
“O-oh…” Your chest deflates and you catch yourself frowning for just a moment. Astarion’s brow furrows as he incorrectly interprets the cause of your sudden mood shift to be the current conversation and not the crushing disappointment you were trying to shove aside. You quickly try to move into a more neutral expression, but the rogue is already jumping into another worried explanation.
“Darling... Please hear me. I love you more than anything, and I know you better than anyone. You will not be truly happy there, of that much I am absolutely certain. These offers you’re receiving will give you multiple avenues to build the life you want…. the life we want. Imagine the good you could do with that level of influence, my love! Let me help you; I can review contracts, negotiate deals… whatever you need to ensure your success. Do not throw away so much potential on my account. I simply couldn’t live with myself if you did.”
He was right, of course. The only thing you wanted almost as much as you wanted Astarion was to continue the good work you two had been doing for Baldur’s Gate.
You sigh and nod your head, squeezing his hand gently. “You’re right, my love. I suppose it would be silly for both of us to throw away so much opportunity.”
Astarion beamed at your response before leaning over the table to plant a kiss on your lips. You smiled at the rogue when he pulled away to look at you with adoring crimson eyes. Perhaps it hadn’t been the conversation you were hoping for, but it had been a good and much needed one, nonetheless.
-----
Tonight, you and Astarion decided to take a stroll around the city. You were following the vampire’s lead, ambling around the streets as he pointed out more than a few of his old haunts. He revealed some of the difficult moments in his past as you two meandered about… more than one of the tales nearly made you cry with an overwhelm of sympathy for your lover. But you held back, knowing the elf hated eyes full of pity almost as much as he’d hated Cazador.
You noted that Astarion seemed to look back on his experience with more acceptance now. You knew, of course, that there were likely an infinite number of stories he had not yet revealed to you and perhaps never would. But you were still happy to see a bit of lightness in him as he spoke his truth. He hadn’t appeared to have one of his episodes on the entire walk, and as you pondered this, you also realized his night terrors had only occurred a handful of times this month. Such an improvement to what had been an almost daily incidence when you two originally moved in together.
Before long, you and your love arrived at the docks, where just over six months ago you’d felt as if you’d been stabbed in the gut as you watched the rays of sunlight scorch the vampire until he was forced to run for cover. But now, you two stood there hand in hand, resting in a pocket of comfortable silence. Both of you were admiring the twinkling starlight, full moon, and dark, mysterious expanse of the sea.
“The stars were so much more beautiful in the wilds… don’t you think, my sweet?” Astarion asks, his eyes filled with wistfulness as he ponders the sky.
You utter a little hum of agreement as your mind flashes to the first night in camp, when you caught Astarion reclined on his bedroll, stargazing. You turned your head to look at the rogue and remind him of the memory, but found he disappeared from your line of sight. Your vision wanders down and there he is, bent on one knee.
Oh this had to be the moment. Just when you were about to shout yes before the rogue even had a moment to say anything, Astarion looks up and smiles, a small pouch of gold coins in his hand. “Look! I suppose it’s our lucky day, darling. Their loss is our gain, would— are you alright, Tav? You’ve got this strange look on your face.”
Gods, not again. You feel your face flush with embarrassment. In your excitement and overwhelm, you’d almost ruined everything and let Astarion know that you knew his little secret. You made the decision then and there that this would be the last time you anticipated his proposal; let it happen when it’s meant to happen. You were done playing the guessing game. You couldn’t ruin everything with your big fat mouth.
You nod your head slightly before turning to look back at the stars once more, taking a deep breath and hoping to settle yourself.
“Yes, my love. I suppose I’m just thrilled by the beauty of the stars and the full moon, tonight. And by your beauty, of course.”
The rogue stands up, tucking the small sachet in his pocket. He smiles and places a soft, loving peck on the apple of your cheek before wrapping his arm around your waist. The two of you look up at the stars once more, and you spend a few moments pointing out some constellations in the sky. Stargazing had been one of the first things you two bonded over in camp.
Astarion is watching you with devoted interest as you ramble on about the planets and the mythological creatures represented by the patterns in the stars. Finally, there is a small lapse in conversation, and you want to take the opportunity to kiss him, but when you turn, the vampire is once again out of your sight line.
When you look down this time, Astarion is looking up at you, holding a velvet box in shaking hands.
“Tav—" He manages to choke out, but then his eyes fill with tears, and he stops to blink them away, chuckling softly at himself. You immediately come to kneel in front of your love, hands pressed to either side of his face, silently urging him to continue.
The vampire inhales shakily, suddenly quite overwhelmed by the extreme vulnerability he knows he’s about to lay before you. But the softness of your hands on his face grounds him in the moment and he smiles, admiring the look of utter adoration in your eyes.
A couple of tears fall over the edge of his lash line, and you immediately swipe them away with your shaking thumb. Another chuckle escapes the silver-haired elf, and he shakes his head in disbelief.
“My love… I’ve rehearsed this for weeks. I’ve said it all out loud more than a thousand times, I’m sure. I’ve spent almost every opportunity in your absence practicing this. One time I even had Shadowheart pretend to be you while I rehearsed my grand speech. But now that we are here… I’ve nearly forgotten everything I wanted to say.”
You move forward to press a kiss to Astarion’s lips, your hands still shaking as you run your thumb over his cheekbone. “It’s okay, my Star. Please continue, when you’re ready… rehearsed or from the heart… I want to hear it all the same.”
Astarion nods just a fraction and inhales. The shaking hand that is not holding the ring box comes to lay atop your own hand resting on his face. Your love slowly, absently runs his thumb along the back of your palm as he gathers his thoughts. He stares into your eyes with so much love that you almost kiss him again but hold yourself back to allow him to continue.
Astarion exhales a shuddering breath and then continues in a reverent tone, as if he’s whispering a prayer, “My darling. I have lived long life. Much of it was a sad and hopeless one. When we were walking through the city, I pointed out several places where I’d encountered horrible things. Many of those things are still hard to talk about… some of it, I don’t know that I will ever be able to.”
You are crying now, from the overwhelming blend of sympathy for your little Star and palpable feeling of love in this beautiful moment. Tears begin coursing thin streams down your cheeks. Astarion wipes away the tears as they fall, though his lips start trembling from your display of emotion.
“B-but what I do know is that… in many of the places I pointed out, there are also memories of us. Of our friends. Of the time we spent together before saving the city and of the six months we’ve spent here after that. Little by little, we are taking places that only held horrible memories for me and turning them into places that hold feelings of hope and happiness.
I guess what I’m saying is that… these past six months have been the counterweight to two hundred years of misery. And I do not think I deserve you, but I cannot imagine my life without you. You are everywhere I go, everywhere I look, and every happy memory I hold in my heart. If you’ll have me… I would like to spend the rest of our lives, however long they may be, turning this city into a place of hope for us and for the people we hold dear.”
Astarion opens the box, and you gasp in true awe as he reveals possibly the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen. At the center is a beautiful moonstone, emitting an ethereal glow that shines brilliantly in the darkness of the pier. The setting is gold, and an intricate sunburst pattern made in smaller gems surrounds the center stone.
“Standing on the dock that day, after that long battle… I had the thought that my life was ruined when I realized I could no longer stand in the sun. I thought I might never know true happiness again. But it turns out, that was the moment my new life with you began… and you’ve opened the door to more happiness than I could’ve ever imagined for myself.
Even if I never see the sun again, I have made my peace. I would make the choices I made to be here with you, on this dock, in this moment, again and again in every lifetime. You are my sun and my moon. And my darling, it would be my honor to be your Star for the rest of time. Tav… will you marry me?”
As soon as the question comes out of your lover’s lips, you instantly push forward to crash into Astarion, enveloping the elf in an emotional kiss. You both topple over from the sheer force of your ardor, and as you do, the vampire deftly snaps the ring box closed to protect it from spilling out onto the dock.
When you finally break away, panting heavily, both your faces are thoroughly flushed with excitement. The vampire looks up at you, scarlet eyes filled with absolute devotion. You giggle and press one more soft kiss to the rouge before taking your hand in his and pressing a kiss to his knuckle. “Yes, Astarion. Nothing in this life would make me happier than to share it with you.”
-----
Later that evening, the two of you are naked in bed after several rounds of vigorous celebration. You’re admiring your ring, which is still faintly glowing in the semi-darkness of your bedchambers. Astarion takes your hand and presses his lips to the ring with a small smile; his scarlet eyes closely examine the gem.
“I don’t know how it works… you would have to ask Gale. But the center stone glows when I think of you, you know.”
You blink, moving to touch the gemstone in the middle of the ring with curiosity. “But it hasn’t stopped glowing since we’ve been on the docks.”
“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since we’ve been on the docks.” Astarion replies simply, moving his hand to stroke your cheek as a gentle, good-natured laugh escapes his mouth, “Perhaps now you’ll have some insight into how often my thoughts revolve around you, my sweet.”
You feel your eyes welling with tears again. Damn this man and his beautiful heart… he truly never misses a detail when it comes to you. You move forward to pull his lips into another loving kiss, and when you break away this time, a thought crosses your mind.
“Astarion… did you really find that bag of coins on the dock?”
Your lover grins mischievously, his crimson eyes crinkling at the corners as he grabs your ring-clad hand and kisses it once more.
“No, my sweet. But I had to throw you off. Shadowheart told me about my mishap. I wanted to surprise you… but you know me far too well and you’ve never been easily fooled… and the sleepy confession didn’t help things at all. I just figured that you would never anticipate that I’d drop down on one knee twice in a row.”
Astarion knew you just as well as you knew him… and he had been right. He’d fooled you. You roll your eyes and chuckle as the rogue moves closer to you, nuzzling into the side of your neck where fresh fang marks throbbed.
“Now what do you say, darling? One more round of celebration before we go to bed?”
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hellishjoel · 5 months ago
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ungodly and unprofessional
5.6k / pairing: linecook!frankie x waitress f!reader
Series Masterlist l Previous Chapter | Main Masterlist | Notifications Blog
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summary: who said anything about falling in love? you're just co-workers. warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), smoking, descriptions of food and drink, reader is described to have hair (not descriptive of what color/length/etc.) and wears a waitress uniform, explicit smut, consensual somnophilia, swearing, pet names, allusions to bad parenting/parental abuse, descriptions of a parent abusing drugs and alcohol (please heed these warnings and do not read if you are concerned these may be triggers), lastly not beta'd (lmk if you're interested!) A/N: five or six months later, who really knows. believe it or not, I was never not working on this or thinking about it for all of those months... which is crazy. I completely wing these chapters which is probably why it takes so long but you guys don't mind, right? enjoy these cuties falling deeper <3 I almost forgot - shoutout to BistroHuddy on TikTok because one of their segments inspired something in here (but no spoilers!)
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“To love someone is firstly to confess: I'm prepared to be devastated by you.” Billy-Ray Belcourt. 
You have this silly poetry book someone gave you as a birthday present or holiday gift exchange a few years ago. You’ve never picked it up until now. You’re shocked to say all of these cheesy love quotes and poems make you think of one very specific person: a guy with dark curls, a scruffy beard, amber eyes, and the perfect smile. Francisco. 
Falling for a man like Frankie feels like growing up— a sign of maturing compared to the ghosts of terrible boyfriend's past. 
Come to find out, it’s easier to go for the wrong guys, easier on your heart in a way — you don’t feel like you are actually losing anything. 
That’s why you would bet on losing dogs. Invest your emotions and need for romance in those who don’t reciprocate. The ones who despise commitment or lack emotional availability leave you in a state of disappointment. 
Better that than full-blown heartache. Better than ripping yourself open at the seams for another, only to be the one to sew yourself back up again. But not better than winning. 
The letter Frankie’s father sent him weeks ago had been burned into your brain. Every single word, each break of a new paragraph, lines of apologies, and convincing stories of ‘the good times’ they used to have. 
Frankie appeared to be just as wary about the letter as you were, neither of you so easily trusting. Frankie didn’t trust his father, but you did trust Frankie—end of story. 
You’ve never known Frankie to be so tightly closed about something that bothers him. He was the type of man who wears his heart on his sleeve, an open book. 
Aside from allowing you to read the letter, you two have barely spoken about it. And not due to your lack of trying. 
There wasn’t a need for you to bring clarity to the situation, it wasn’t up to you to encourage Frankie to allow his father back into his life. But there was still a lot of emotional trauma that he carried that he didn’t have to bear alone. You just wanted him to know that you support him in whatever avenue he decides is best. 
To forgive or to forget. 
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Frankie releases a sigh from his parted lips, squeezing his eyes closed tighter as your alarm chimes from your phone on the bedside table. He hates the fucking morning shift. 
The air is sticky and thick, and the fan on his bedroom ceiling is doing little to help. Late August is still taking its toll on Texas and its residents, but he’s reminded that this time last year, he sunk down on his knees in the back kitchen and tasted you on his tongue for the first time. Can’t believe it’s been a year since then. Plus all the events that have transpired since. 
There’s no label between you two other than the fact you are exclusive— putting your focus on each other and not seeing other people. It was good, better than nothing with you. 
His eyelashes finally flutter open, seeing you shift in the dark to turn off the alarm, only to dig your face deep into your pillow. He thinks you’re fucking adorable. 
Frankie is by no means a morning person, but waking up beside you has changed his perspective. Your hair is a scattered mess, the ponytail having fallen loose in the tosses and turns of last night. The sunlight peaking through the blinds highlights the slope of your nose and Cupid’s bow. Arms tucked into your front, leg hiked up like a ballerina.
His mind starts to swirl at the conversation you shared recently, that you wanted to try something… new. To be surprised. To be taken by him in your sleep. 
He was shocked to hear you say it, all shy and meek - it’s not a side of you he sees often. But it’s the vulnerability talking, advocating the trust you share together. 
“I want to wake up with you inside me.”
Frankie had to blink a few times, his large hand cradling your jaw as you spoke in whispers between the sheets. “You— I didn’t know you’d be into that sort of thing.”
“We don’t have to if it’s not your thing. But there’s something about you moving me where you want me to be, being completely under your control, even a little helpless,” you pause, uncertain if your words would scare him off. 
The exact opposite. Frankie was intrigued. 
“The thrill of trying not to wake you up.” He continues, watching your glowing smile return, indicating that Frankie understands why this would feel good to you. 
“My natural reaction, trusting you, knowing that you’ll be careful, knowing that you’re using me— it’s hot, Frankie. You have my consent, I wanna try.” 
Frankie’s stomach churns with excitement, butterflies spreading through his abdomen and up to his chest, his heart thunking eagerly. 
He was slow and methodical, not wanting you to stir from your sleepy state. Nipping at his lower lip, teeth piercing the skin, he works up the courage to touch you. A rough and calloused hand travels up your side, pushing up your sleep tee and watching goosebumps line the tips of his fingers.
Frankie presses slow kisses to the top of your shoulder, feeling his cock swell against the plump of your ass in all of the excitement. He whispers your name, soft and raspy with the morning hour. Other than a small twitch of your nose, you’re out cold. 
“Shh, s’okay angel, m’gonna make you feel good.” The desire stirs in his stomach, urging him to please you in your sleep just like you asked. 
With two crooked fingers, he curls them around the band of your panties and slowly drags them down your soft thighs. You let out a slow sigh between your parted lips, Frankie pausing to watch as you settle once more. 
 Slipping two skilled fingers between your legs, he slowly massages up and down your folds. He’s surprised to already feel the slick between your legs, a low groan of approval leaving the depths of his throat. 
There’s a shift, your hips squirming for more of his touch. You’re so perfectly pliant for him, causing the embers low in his belly to grow with anticipation, the blood rushing to his cock as it hardens against the curve of your ass. 
“Good girl,” he remarks as you let out a little whimper upon the pads of Frankie’s fingers finding your swollen clit. “Even asleep, you’re nice and wet for me, princess.” 
Goddammit, he thinks, how does she have this much of an effect while perfectly asleep? He can’t stand the feeling of not touching her, the carnal need to take her was strong like a magnet, forcing their bodies together. 
One yank and he was out of his briefs, chewing on his lower lip in concentration. He needed to move you, to perfectly fit in the nook of your body, you’d have to be good and yield to him. 
Frankie hikes up your leg and fills in the spaces between your bodies, stroking over himself as he slowly lines his leaking tip along your entrance. Just as he notches his tip inside, a quiet and sleepy gasp leaves your perfect pillowy lips. 
“Right there, baby, you just stay right there for me,” Frankie growls against your ear, his hips flush with yours as he slowly lets inch by inch of him be swallowed by your warm cunt. 
After that, there wasn’t a lot of nicety to him. The level of control he carried was lost. He just wanted to take and take, feel and fuck. He wants to use you like his own personal toy; do whatever he pleases with no resistance. You were his to devour. 
He’s still inside you, but he’s gotten this far, and you’re still out. Even in sleep, you’re pulsing around his cock, so fucking tight around him that it steals the air from his lungs. There’s a hint of discomfort in your face, a quiet gasp held within your expression. 
“Fuck,” he grunts, the hand he holds firmly on your hip now moving under your sleep tee. 
You were so fucking accessible to him, so beautiful, so peaceful being fucked raw. 
He rolls your nipple between his thumb and index finger, getting the reaction he’s been waiting for all morning. A sweet, slow moan tumbles loose from your throat, your hips reeling back to grind against Frankie’s lap. 
He’s somewhat pleased he knows you this well, knows what gets you worked up and gushing. The fact that even in your sleep, you have this reaction towards him makes the fire burning inside his abdomen grow. Maybe a deep part of him gets off on knowing you so well. 
Frankie lets out a sigh at his own thoughts, lightly nipping the skin of your exposed shoulder as he slowly rolls his hips back and glides in again, feeling the drag of your tight pussy keeping him lubed up and warm.
If he weren’t so desperate to fuck you, he’d love to just sit inside you like this all goddamn day. It would probably give him the same comfort as the first cup of coffee. 
He gives your breast one more firm squeeze before returning the attention back to your clit, all desperate and tingling with each eager circle he gives you. 
“So fucking perfect,” he whispers against your ear, his hips continuing at a steady pace until he simply needs more. He hikes up your leg once again to allow himself more movement, smirking as your ass smacks against the front of his hips with each thrust that now jostles your body. 
You’ll surely wake any moment, shocked and sleepy and startled at his cock so deep inside your perfectly spent cunt. 
You whimper each time he fills you, your face digging into the pillow as you moan against the cover. Frankie’s efforts grow needy and demanding, fisting your hair out of his way as he sucks marks into your neck; teeth and tongue massaging the skin before leaving a bruise in its wake.
A sweet little sob exits your parted lips, Frankie groaning at the pretty little noises you make. 
“Take me so well, princess. You want me to keep fuckin’ you, huh?” He snarls against your neck, smirking as you hiss at the sensations you’re feeling all throughout your body.  
Suddenly, your eyes flutter open. They absorb the settings around you and it all clicks. A long, desperate moan crawls from the depths of your throat, your movements sluggish but your hand eventually clasps onto Frankie’s forearm, his fingers still swirling around your clit. 
“Ohmy— Frankie, fuck,” you gasp as you feel the full force of his cock drilling deep inside your pussy. Your voice is still thick with sleep, eyes cloudy with lust, and skin-prickling sensations that you had never felt before; a million emotions, but the standout being desperation to come undone like this with a man you trust. 
“This what you wanted, angel? Wake up with my cock stuffed between your legs?” Frankie smirks as he presses his lips against your cheek, jaw dropping against your own as you ride out the high together. 
You cry out something wrecked, a garble of syllables as your spine arches against his front. You weren’t given the pleasure of feeling the orgasm build and build; you woke up at its high heat. 
In an instant, your skin was clammy, hair sticking to your skin as desperate pants filled the room, along with broken moans of Frankie’s name. 
It’s exactly what you wanted, maybe better. Yes, way better. 
You’re so tight, literally clinging to every single inch he gives you as your slick drenches his cock. Your nails dig into his tan skin, feeling the muscles and tendons work to play with your clit. 
A whimper leaves you as the warmth in your stomach boils over, turning your head over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of his face. His eyes are dark, cast over with lust as he stole you in your sleep. In an instant, he meets you with a messy kiss, your bodies and the bed still jolting with each rough thrust he gives you. 
“Please,” you moan against his lips, nodding your head as you look into his eyes. “Come inside me, I wanna feel it, please, give it to me, Frankie,” your words turn into a whine as he begins to fuck you harder, deeper, his tip tickling your cervix as you damn near blackout from the pleasure. 
The pleasure inside of you finally reaches the surface. The feeling was like a wave breaching over your rocky shores, washing over you both in pleasure as your cunt spasms around his thick cock. 
Frankie spoils your clit as his hips snap against your ass, one, two, three more times before the feeling of you overcomes him. He braces you tightly in his arms, panting against your shoulder, eyes clenching closed as he lets out broken grunts of release. He paints your insides with his spend, both of you relaxing in one another’s hold as you slowly descend from heaven. 
“Jesus Christ,” Frankie breathes, shaking his head with a tilted smirk. “You don’t know what you do to me.” He remarks as you look over your shoulder in a haze. 
You whimper as you pull him in closer, fingers weaving into the curls at the back of his head and encouraging him to meet your parted lips. 
The words are at the tip of your tongue, and you can feel them spread heat throughout your body. You can hear both of your hearts beating, thundering against the human flesh, and signaling the feeling of being alive. 
Frankie waits for the words. The feeling of anticipation has been lingering for quite some time. Your touch of nervousness was welcome, expected even. A moment in time when your heart feels exposed but also overwhelmingly full. Only hoping that the other person feels the same way, yet uncertain of how they will respond. A game of chicken of who will say it first and who will have to respond. The leap of faith one will be forced to make and the right words the other will have to find.
Both roles are downright frightening. 
You’re risking everything, the biggest gamble one can make without physical currency. 
But he sees the panic behind your eyes, the nervewracking feeling of saying the sacred words to someone, maybe even for the first time. And he knows that they will be worth it to hear. 
“I know,” he whispers against your lips, shaking his head in a way that tells you he knows what you’re thinking. “I know.” 
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You don’t attend church, so you have one question: why the fuck is God sending people to get brunch after Sunday’s service? Why is that their beck and call? 
Every Sunday morning, like clockwork, a flock of people flood the diner with their church clothes and a hankering for waffles and Frankie’s house lumberjack skillet (you wanna know what’s in it, don’t you?)
Frankie’s Secret Ingredients:
Potatoes: 1/4 lb (about 4-5 small potatoes)
Olive Oil: 1/2 tablespoon
Breakfast Sausage Links: 3 oz (about 4 links)
Onion: 1/8 of a whole onion, chopped
Red Pepper: 1/4 of a whole red pepper, chopped
Jalapenos: 1/2 jalapeno, sliced (omit if person looks too old to handle)
Butter: 1 tablespoon
Hickory Maple Seasoning: 1/2 teaspoon
Eggs: 2 large eggs
Milk: 1 tablespoon
Cheddar Cheese: 2 tablespoons, shredded
Anyway, Tommy’s Diner is slammed by mid-morning, and you’re working up a sweat. You’re wiping at your neck and forehead every few minutes, and the sun filtering through the windows does little justice to cool your skin. Tina called out sick, which is code for hungover from Saturday. It’s overwhelming. Your brain feels like the scrambled eggs you just plated for that family of four.
“Enjoy,” you whisper a little breathlessly, tucking your notepad into the front of your apron, rubbing at your temple with the heel of your hand as you walk past the rest of your tables. 
By the time you lift your head, you see a large potbelly man who is waving an arm up above his head, fingers already snapping incessantly. He looked like a chubby rat, with a large dark-haired mustache and a shirt that didn’t fully cover the beer gut he was sporting.
“Uhm, hello? Miss, can we get some service over here?” 
Jesus fucking Christ. Your jaw tightens a few notches, pushing your hair out of your face and wrapping around to their table. You remember them; you took their table’s order a bit ago now - shit, did you forget their plates? No, you didn’t. 
Stopping at the head of their table, you smile politely at the large family. 
“Hi, can I get you something while you wait?”
The man scoffs and snaps, “Uh, yeah, our food.”
Taking a deep breath wasn’t enough; you were a ticking time bomb. “Sir, do you see how many people are in the diner? We’re at capacity with a line out the door. I understand you’ve been waiting, but our kitchen is backed up and-” 
“Bull-honkey-bullcrap, little miss,” the man raises his voice, spitting violently with each syllable, “This is ridiculous! We’ve been sittin’ here for nearly an hour. How hard is it to make some eggs and Mickey Mouse pancakes, huh? You just that stupid? What the hell is goin’ on back there? Are you people completely incompetent, or are you just ignorin’ us?”
Worse things have been said to your face, but you’re at your breaking point. You can feel your face flush with warmth radiating throughout your body. Now, the entire diner is staring at you from all the commotion. Your lungs feel tight, a headache casting heavy behind your face. Tears line your eyes, but you don’t dare let them fall. 
“Again, I’m really sorry, but like I said, the kitchen is backed up.” But apologizing isn’t enough. This guy just wanted someone to take his punches. 
“Don’t even try to apologize. I don’t wanna hear your pathetic excuses. How hard is it to cook some damn eggs? This place is a joke. You must be the worst server I’ve ever dealt with. ‘Nd I swear, if I wanted this kind of useless service, I’d go to a fast food joint. Is this how you treat payin’ customers, or ya’ll just this lazy? Do your job, or I’ll make sure everyone knows how worthless you and this diner is.”
You clutch the empty coffee pot tightly, biting your tongue. Turning swiftly, you head straight for the back swinging door. You don't intend to contribute to the chaos or the bustling mess in the kitchen, but here, in the safety of the back section, you allow a few stray tears to escape.
Shoulder blades hitting the cold brick, you wish to blend into the wall. It feels like the air’s been knocked out of you, your chest heavy and tight. Every sound around you blurs as the man’s harsh words replay in your mind, louder and louder each time. Your hands shake just enough to want to hide them behind your back, feeling afraid to have eyes on you in such a vulnerable state. Exposed. You’ve absorbed the anger meant for something or someone else, so now, it sticks to you, something you can’t wash away. 
Your name echoes once, twice. 
“Hey,” A calm amongst the rushing waves - it’s Frankie. You blink him into focus, bleary tears slowly fading away. His red bandana is tied tight around his forehead to catch the sweat from his forehead and hair. His face is laced with concern. He wipes his hands off on his apron, gently capturing your face as he shields you from the rest of the kitchen. 
And just like that, life returns to your body. You can feel the tips of your fingers, previously tingling, wiping under your eyes as you hiccup through your breaths. Frankie knows this high-traffic area will only make your anxiety worse. 
“It’s okay, take a deep breath and tell me what happen.”
The eyes of the kitchen staff are slowly starting to turn to you, asking if you’re alright and why you’re upset. Shaking your head dismissively, you blink away your tears and look down at the grubby floor that probably hasn’t been mopped since the invention of flip phones. 
“I’m fine. This customer just got pissed and yelled at me. He was upset that his food was running behind, and I tried to explain that the kitchen was backed up.” You part your lips to continue, but the jaw drops of the kitchen staff signal shock by your words. 
They all start honking in unison like a flock of geese. 
“He what?”
“Which fuckin’ table?”
“You okay, sweetheart? Fuck them.” 
Frankie's back straightens stiff, having previously been craning to see your face, now strict with annoyance. 
“Is that him?” Frankie asks as he walks to the window between the kitchen and the back counter, narrowing his eyes on the rat man and his family. 
“Frankie, please don't,” you huff, already refilling your pots of coffee and hoping to just forget the whole thing ever happened. "It's okay, it happens."
But it’s not okay. Because this guy made you cry, and what the hell was it for? Some scrambled eggs and bacon on delay?
The rest of the line cooks have abandoned their food to gawk at the asshole who thinks he can get away with yelling at one of their own like that. 
Frankie tightens his bandana and peels off his gloves, slapping them down in the trash. 
His boots thunder across the linoleum, catching the attention of many of the patrons on his way to the booth by the window where the rat man has continued to reside angrily. Even worse, he chuckles at the sight of Frankie. 
“Take a load of this guy," the rat man appears to mutter to his wife who looks between them both with startled eyes. "Okay, okay, just bring back the pretty waitress. I’ll tell her I’m sorry.” He sneers, shaking his head. 
“No, you’re done with her. You’re dealin’ with me now.” Frankie snags an empty chair from a nearby table, turns it around, and straddles the seat as he gets in the burly man's face. 
“I just feel terrible that we’re not meeting the quality of service you expected. So what exactly is the problem?” Frankie asks with a hint of venom lining his words. 
“Well- we’ve been waitin’ here for half an hour and-”
“Right, and what did the pretty waitress say?”
The man scoffs lightly, feeling embarrassed with all the eyes on him not once but twice now. “Well, she said the kitchen was backed up.”
“That’s right, that’s right, well, I’m the fuckin’ kitchen. You wanna yell at someone? Well, I thought I’d give you the chance to yell at me since, hey, I'm in charge of the kitchen today. Please, tell me your honest review.”
The rat man stares blankly, looking from left to right in surprise, but his family all gawks at Frankie. 
Frankie waits, eyes unblinking, face hardened as the man sputters up something weak in response. 
“This is ungodly and unprofessional,” he gargles, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. 
“You’re absolutely right!” Frankie says, smacking the table with his closed fist before pointing at the rat man, the tip of his finger inches from his face. “I am unprofessional, but that’s because I don’t have the great customer service skills of our waitresses. That’s her job,” Frankie juts a thumb backward towards the kitchen in your direction. “So now, instead of cookin’ you and your ugly wife and kids some food, I gotta come out here and knock some sense into ya since you seemed to have lost your manners. So you gonna let her do her job so I can get back to mine?”
You can only watch from the window in shock, hand over mouth, unblinking eyes - but it’s like a car crash you can’t look away from. The man is shocked into an embarrassed silence. 
“We’ll just… we’ll wait. There’s-uh-there’s a lotta people here.” 
Frankie sighs and smiles with fake relief. He stands from the chair, looking around the quiet restaurant. 
“Anybody else have somethin' they wanna say?”
They all seem too scared of Frankie to complain again to the psycho chef. Chants of ‘Everything’s great!’ or “Thank you!” echo through the dining room. 
You smile warmly, forcing yourself to turn away from the scene and clean up your teary makeup in the bathroom. But all you can think about is Frankie. Francisco. Stupid Catfish. Stepping in like that to protect you, to make that jerk take accountability. It makes your heart flutter knowing how much he cares. And you feel the same way.
It’s about time you tell him. 
Knuckles wrap against the bathroom door, and an echo of, “You okay?” follows. 
He comes in without a response, somewhat relieved to find you adjusting your hair and wiping at the smeary makeup. Your eyes soften at the sight of him, watching in the reflection. He looks disheveled and annoyed, shaking his head as he starts ranting about rat man. 
“I don’t get how people like that- the God-loving church people- come in here and act like they weren’t just told at a sermon to love thy neighbor or whatever bullshit.”
He continues, but all you do is stare.
A part of you thinks he defends others due to his childhood. No one picks on the people Frankie cares about. That letter riled him up, maybe more than either of you had realized. He’s thinking about those times of the past, the innocent hurt by the deviant. 
“You didn’t deserve that, I’m sorry, he’s a fucking dick. You don’t have to take his food out, I’ll do it. Honey,” he breathes, hand resting on your shoulder as he gently turns you around to face him. “Are you mad at me? I know you told me not to go out there, but no one makes you cry if I can help it, y’know? I don’t want him to think he can get away with that.”
Once Frankie starts ranting, it’s really hard to get him to stop. 
“Frankie,” you breathe out, resting your hand over the one he holds on your shoulder. 
“I mean, does he really think that it’s smart to be rude to the staff? I’ll spit in his food, and it will feel really good because he’ll have no idea.”
“Frankie,”
“You’re a good fucking waitress! Doesn’t he see the entire breakfast bar and all the booths filled with guests? The line out the door wasn’t an indication of how busy it is? Get a fuckin’ brain, I mean-”
In an instant, you tilt your chin up, catching his gaze just long enough to see the shift in his eyes before your lips meet. Your hands slide around his neck, fingers weaving into the soft curls at the nape, gently tugging him down toward you. The kiss begins with an urgency, part playful, part to silence his words, but mostly, it's to thank him in a way that words never could.
Frankie’s initial surprise fades quickly as he melts into you, his breath hitching for a moment. His hands travel to your waist, sliding around until they lock just above your hips, anchoring you to him. He presses closer, his touch firm yet tender, and slows the kiss, savoring the warmth of your lips. You feel the way his body relaxes, how he leans in, letting the world around you both fall away as he holds you, close and unmoving, like he’s never letting go.
It takes every ounce of courage in your body to pull away, your lips lingering against his for a heartbeat longer than necessary, as if tethered by an invisible force. Slowly, you break the kiss, your breath shaky, heart racing. His forehead rests against yours for a moment, his eyes still half-closed, unaware of the words hanging on the edge of your lips.
You gently pull back just enough to meet his gaze, your fingers still laced in his hair, trembling slightly. His eyes search yours, soft and expectant, filled with something unspoken but unmistakable.
With a deep inhale, you let the words slip out, vulnerable and raw, barely louder than a whisper, but heavy with meaning.
“I love you.”
The world stands still as the words hang in the air, your heart pounding as you wait for the weight of what you’ve just said to settle between you.
And then he smiles like an idiot. And you’re joining him. 
“Did you say what I think you said? Did you say that you love me?" His voice is soft, teasing, as he presses his forehead against yours, capturing your lips with a few playful, quick kisses between his words. “Come on, say it again.”
You feel your heart flutter, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. Frankie’s eyes twinkle with amusement. “I heard you say it. Now you can’t take it back,” he adds with a grin, pulling you tighter, his arms leaving no space between you.
You giggle, your hands pushing lightly against his shoulders, though he doesn’t budge. “Stop, that was really hard,” you huff, breathless, as though the words had stolen all the air from your lungs.
Frankie just shakes his head, his smile fading into something softer, more real, as the weight of the moment catches up with him. “I’ve thought about better places or times to tell you this, I wanted to wait until you were ready,” he whispers, his voice hushed with disbelief, eyes locking onto yours, “but I love you more than you’ll ever know. More than you’ll ever understand or dream. I love you.”
His thumb traces the curve of your cheekbone, a gentle, affectionate touch that sends shivers down your spine. The intensity in his gaze mirrors your own, both of you lost in this shared vulnerability, your hearts speaking in unison.
“I love you, too,” you breathe, the words falling effortlessly this time, as if they’ve always been waiting for this moment.
So, yeah. You sort of love your co-worker Francisco Morales. 
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The sun is blinding—orange and yellow streams of light as it is forced to set along the horizon. It’s slow but noticeable, sinking into the land beyond what you can see.
The sun goes down in Texas once again. 
Frankie raises his cigarette, its glowing tip mirroring the fiery hues of the sunset.
His neighborhood is tranquil, lined with single-story homes and tree-bordered streets where autumn's touch is just around the corner. Children ride bikes, joggers and dog walkers pass by, and new parents push their baby strollers—a picturesque scene that feels meticulously arranged yet somehow distant. Frankie, too, feels out of place here.
"You got pretty worked up today—more than usual," you say softly.
Frankie lets out a dry chuckle, cigarette between his lips as he leans back on his elbows, squinting at the fading sun. "Yeah, maybe. You think I’m off right now?" He tilts his head, genuinely curious, as if searching for what’s changed.
You shrug, glancing at him with a fond smile. "I think that letter from your dad has you more rattled than you realize. I found it in your sock drawer this morning."
Frankie’s gaze drops to his lap, a flicker of shame crossing his face.
"I thought you said you were gonna toss it?" you muse gently, watching as his mind churns, cigarette hovering at his lips before he sighs deeply.
"You’re too observant," he smirks. "I don’t know why I haven’t crumpled, burned, or shredded it into pieces by now. I have every right to."
You rest a comforting hand on his shoulder, squeezing the tension there. "But you didn’t. Why?"
Frankie bites his lower lip nervously, glancing your way. "At the end of the apology letter, he asked to take me out for my birthday. Put down the time, place—everything. Said he’d wait for me."
Your expression softens, letting him know you’re here, really listening. "And you’re thinking about it?"
"Yeah… I guess so. But I don’t even know what I’d say. I’ve only seen him once or twice since I moved out. It’s been years. And when I do see him, I’m thirteen all over again, just yelling at him, so angry. I see his face, and it’s like a switch flips. And that’s not me. You know that’s not me," Frankie stammers, panic flickering in his eyes.
"I know," you whisper, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He pulls you closer, resting his head against yours as the weight of it all settles.
After a deep breath, Frankie gathers himself. "He used to bring out the worst in me. I don’t know if I still hate him as much. Time’s passed, maybe he’s changed. But I’m not holding my breath."
He’s an adult now, more guarded, wiser to the people who’ve hurt him. He’s fought through battles and traumas you don’t even know about. Yet, in his eyes, there’s a flicker of hope. Maybe his dad has turned a corner, maybe he’s cleaned up, seen his mistakes. But you know better than to trust in maybes.
And you’d protect him from being let down again.
"Do you want me to go with you?" you offer quietly.
Frankie’s eyes snap to yours, wide and searching.
"Okay," he says after a long pause. "Let’s do it."
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329 notes · View notes
madforhoran · 1 year ago
Text
I'm gonna go off (cuz I can) as I wanna clear this up once and for all, hopefully. This post has been inspired by couple of my mutuals who are also trauma survivors.
These takes are still circulating:
Astarion cannot consent to anything because trauma & he cannot say No.
Astarion is forcing himself to have sex and the cemetery.
To start this all off, Neil is a god-tier voice actor and he's demonstrating perfectly well when Astarion is being honest or playful.
Instances where Astarion says No directly / implies it / expresses his disagreement because his boundaries are about to be or were crossed:
-> says No to Araj
-> says No to Tav (he tells Tav in-between the lines 'let's put a pause on sex' and if Tav misreads it and crosses his boundaries, breakup follows = "I didn't know how to say no, but I do now")
-> he refuses to take the astral tadpole
-> he doesn't wanna participate in an orgy when you take him to the brothel before his personal quest resolution
-> he's ready to rip a new one when Tav says his siblings should've kidnapped him
-> he doesn't wanna kiss Tav or continue the romantic relationship if they turn full squid
It is a player’s problem where they force or intimidate him into saying yes.
Instances when Astarion is being playful and lovey because he loves Tav:
-> how can I say No? (when it's just a stupid love test at the circus that doesn't mean anything)
-> how could I say No? (when Tav asks for a kiss, he's being a tease)
There is a clear tonal difference between these No's and situations above.
At the cemetery, he gives us the big beautiful speech where he finally answers "what do you want?" with genuine "You, I want you." and goes on how Tav cared, was patient, trusted him. How safe and seen he feels.
"I love you, I love this, and I want it all."
Now the big sentence which for whatever reason gets twisted that he's forcing himself to have sex & hasn't given consent. You've heard him say all of those beautiful words previously, in Neil's honest genuine tone. Astarion is being genuine and honest when he drops the high pitch.
"If a night of passion is on offer, I could be persuaded."
The man has poured his entire heart out there and is telling Tav [ONLY SLIGHTLY HORNY, NEIL] that he's ready to have sex. He's saying "if YOU are offering, then I'm up for this, to get down and dirty right here on top of my grave". If you tell him instead that you're not ready or you won't do it, he's taken aback and disappointed.
In the spawn!ending Astarion completes the arc of "what do you want?"
"What do any of us want?"
"I'm not sure, it's been so long since I got to decide what I wanted."
"You, I want you."
Astarion has trauma but he is a character with trauma, not trauma walking on two legs. You as a player are actively guiding him through it and when he gets it and asserts his boundaries you cannot just backtrack and say, wait a second you have trauma, you're not allowed to step out of your trauma bubble ever and you're not capable of consent.
It's like saying SA victims in real life are never going to be able to consent to sex (or anything for that matter) or ever move on in their lives from what happened to them.
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darkcircles4lyfe · 7 months ago
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I've given it some thought--
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Now, if you've read any of my posts and you've read 430, you know there are a lot of ways it falls short of what I wanted. On the other hand, I can respect an open ending, one where we are allowed and encouraged to dream. All things considered, I'm not satisfied or disappointed, but a secret third thing... bear with me.
For a lot of storylines, I can fill in the blanks how I want.
I'm heartbroken over Himiko's fate, but there's no denying that the lack of camera footage leaves open the possibility of her simply disappearing. Perhaps she is waiting in hiding for the world to change, just like Lady Nagant.
Dr. Yoshida is described as someone who can cure the incurable. That may be referring to Katsuki, but the doctor himself said it's a complete mystery how he survived, all Katsuki's own doing. Maybe he cured someone else in those 8 years... someone like Touya?
Honestly I got nothing on Tenko but who knows. Who knows! Something something OFA connection. Izuku having vestige visions. Idk.
As for the manner in which society is changing, I'm drawn to Shouji's speech: "I'm dedicating the honor to those who joined the uprising eight years ago. All I've done is stand atop the resolve that they demonstrated to the world, nothing more." That at least tells me his earlier judgment of the other heteromorphs "setting them back" was a narrow point of view Shouji was supposed to grow out of, rather than a way of Horikoshi trying to criticize revolutionaries. In general, just because a character says something doesn't mean we're supposed to take it as gospel. That's lit crit 101, people.
Then there's Izuku. Once again I am feeling this pretty close to home. I keep coming back to the fact that the class is 24/25 now and I'm 25, man. On top of that, anyone else who was 14/15 ten years ago when the manga started gets to feel like we've all grown up together. I wanted catharsis for Izuku's trauma so badly. I wanted words. But I can't deny that the way Izuku is shown attempting to make the best of things and be content with a humbler life resonates with me, as painful as it is, as much as I know deep down he's kidding himself. It doesn't surprise me that he kept his walls up all this time and continued to shun his "selfishness."
I almost feel like there's an all-encompassing narrative theme being expressed here, in the fact that Izuku was trying to push past his pain and focus on the next generation, but surprise, his story's not over yet. I think the implied message there is that more can be done in the here and now, and maybe other stories that seem to be over, aren't.
With these things in mind, I can take the ending in stride, even if this is all the more we get from Horikoshi. However. There's one thing that is jolting me out of my peace every time I start to get comfortable here. It's actually related to the storyline that got the most closure.
I've seen a lot of fellow bkdk enjoyers calling their conclusion the best part of the ending, and I agree with that. They got a truly full circle moment, and a way of communicating to the reader that they're together, they have their forever, in a way that is personal to them. It's not "canon" in the way a kiss or a confession is, but I've said it before--this makes sense for them. And Horikoshi also did something legitimately interesting and groundbreaking by not making Ochako confess, not showing her future being tied to the main character as a love interest.
No, the thing that's bugging me is a seemingly small detail: why does Izuku and Katsuki holding hands at the end, of all things, have to be implied? Lots of things about 430 make sense in the context of the interview Horikoshi recently gave where he expressed being content with what he has drawn, and what he has left to the imagination. But not this. You can't convince me he didn't want to draw this. It's a motherfucking story about hands. This is the one thing I was 110% certain would happen. It's been teased for forever. Katsuki clearly wanted it so bad. So many other characters got to hold Izuku's hand in-frame. What the hell. Why.
Idk. I will be thinking about it for the foreseeable future.
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autumnmobile12 · 9 months ago
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My Hero Academia AU: Living Ghost
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A little bit different than my other comics; I've never done a time lapse before.
In the Ambush Simulation notes, I mentioned that Dabi has a canon divergence in this AU where he returned home after the three years he was missing/presumed dead, but nothing in the household changed and he was still an unhinged mess.  This is the AU comic behind ‘unhinged mess’ and the partial reasoning behind his antagonistic behavior in The Summer Camp Ambush Simulation.
All right, so canonically Dabi is a walking, half-dead, Lovecraftian nightmare of mental and physical health issues who's keeping himself going through sheer willpower/hatred.  Ujiko says that after waking up from the three year coma, he should not have survived longer than a month as a result of the injuries he sustained from the fire.  So even in an AU where he was reunited with his family after the fact, that’s still the reality of his situation.
Enter Endeavor: In this scenario, at that point in his character arc, I think he would have retreated back into his usual pattern of refusing to face the issue. The Todoroki family got Touya back, but they also learned that he wouldn't be with them long. If a missing/presumed dead child turns up after three years, they're immediately going to a hospital to establish mental and physical condition, so the health issues resulting from the fire would have been discovered almost immediately.
From the point of view of Endeavor, Touya's return was cause for celebration and was initially viewed as a second chance/an opportunity to repair some of the damage he'd already done to his family...but then the severity of Touya's prognosis becomes apparent and they're told he has weeks to live. In Ambush Simulation, Endeavor takes the coward’s way out and leaves the problem for everyone else to deal with so he doesn't have to face Touya.  He told himself it was a way of not getting attached and so on, and no matter how much he tries to deny it, the avoidance is his guilty conscious.
The same goes for Rei. She refused to see Touya after he came back just so she wouldn't have to say goodbye to him a second time.
But Touya doesn't die.
Despite what the doctors predicted, he survives '...albeit with complications, various emergencies, experimental treatments to delay the inevitable, no clear answer on how the hell he was still breathing, and no promises that he would ever live a full life...' And now, just like in canon, he has 7-8 years of simmering resentment with the trauma of a near-death experience, the realization of having lost three years of his life due to the coma, the fallout of terminal health, and the crushing disappointment of what should have been a heartfelt reunion turned into a second abandonment.
In this AU as a vigilante, Touya has the Pandora’s Box of being an outrageous public menace and a potential family embarrassment because he figured out the only time his father pays any attention to him is when he’s ‘acting out’ and he decided he’d rather be the problem child than the invisible child.  And unfortunately, this mentality has also ruined his relationship with Natsuo.
In some respect, canon is a happier outcome for Touya because at least in canon, the poor bastard has a purpose instead of reduced to a living ghost.
The piano panels are him rehabilitating his hands.  Technically after a three year coma, he should not have been walking and talking as quickly as he did.  Not with that kind of atrophy.  So I’m balancing that inaccuracy out with the headcanon his fine motor skills were likely completely ruined.
Plus, if your life is a train wreck, have at least one positive hobby.
...Yomaha...
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certifiedposeidonhater · 23 days ago
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PERCY JACKSON HEADCANONS PART 7 💙💙
1. He is EXTREMELY triggered by the sound of a woman or a child crying (like REALLY triggered)
2. He can’t not finish his food. If there is any food left on his or anybody else’s plate he HAS to eat it. Even if he is already full and feels like one more bite is gonna make him throw up, he has to finish his food. He got that from not having a lot of food growing up that now he feels like he’s wasting food if he doesn’t eat all of it.
3. He HATES doors slamming. It makes him feel like g*be is gonna come from the other room throwing beer bottles at him.
4. He will automatically start crying if any female figure of authority acts like they’re disappointed in him
5. HE IS SUCH A BIG INTROVERT
6. He has a terrible rbf so everybody in his classes and at camp always think he’s super mean until they talk to him and realize he is literally one of the nicest people ever (friendly reminder that he’s not exactly perceived as sassy. To everyone else he’s just the quiet kid who side eyes everyone.)
7. Sometimes his brain goes too fast for his mouth and he starts to stutter. It happened more when he was younger, but sometimes when he’s super nervous or excited it comes out and he hates it. (g*be used to make fun of it. Thalia started joking about it once and Percy got up and left the room (He was about to start crying.))
8. He’s extremely photogenic but hates people taking photos of him
9. He’s told Annabeth before “what if i’m actually a really terrible person and i’ve just manipulated everyone into liking me?”
10. He has a CRAZY high spice tolerance
11. He has fainting spells sometime
12. He can get really insecure about everything about himself. Anything from his body, his looks, his personality, his voice, anything. Annabeth always notices it and always makes sure to reassure him and give him extra love.
13. He is the WORST at taking compliments. e.g. “percy, you looks so pretty!” “yeah, pretty depressed.” or “percy! your eyes are so pretty!” “uh, sure. thanks?” or “percy, you’re actually really smart sometimes!” “i’m not but okay?”
14. He HATES ricotta but loves mozzarella
15. He has a really bad but really good immune system at the same time (he constantly feels sick, but he never rlly gets SICK sick.)
16. He wanted to be a firefighter as a kid
17. He agrees with Luke a LOT MORE than he wants to admit (he brought it up to Nico once (kind of as a joke) but Nico freaked out a bit. Percy knew better than to even mention a little bit of that feeling to Annabeth.)
18. ice cream = safety food (especially butter pecan (he eats it in a mug)) He also LOVES waffles.
19. He CANNOT explain his feelings for the life of him. Annabeth once convinced him to be honest with her about his feeling and he got halfway through a sentence then gave up, shut down, and drowned his sorrows in coffee and ice cream.
20. He experiences major revenge bedtime procrastination
21. He hates night times and mornings.
22. He’ll go on rants sometimes and a lot of the time the people he’s talking to just stop listening. He’ll notice and stop talking. (If Grover or Annabeth are there, they’ll listen.)
23. When he’s giving someone a high five, his hand actually never goes high. He always puts his hand at like waist level with his palm up and stuff.
24. He secretly hopes that sooner or later (hopefully sooner) he will go on a quest and never come back
25. He says sorry A LOT (for things that usually aren’t his fault and he can’t control)
26. Hes really superstitious
27. He gets annoyed super easily when it’s hot (heat rage is REAL yall)
28. HATES the quiet because it gives him too much time to think so he constantly has some sort of show or music playing in the background so it drowns out his thoughts
29. He was alone so much as a kid that he NEEDS alone time to energize himself
30. He has gotten flirted with by 65 yo women (read pedophiles) a LOT
31. He quotes vines CONSTANTLY
32. He walks silently because trauma
33. He’s left handed but writes with his right hand because that’s how he was taught in school
34. He has a great sense of direction but sucks with giving or taking directions
35. He has rejection sensitive dysphoria (even though he automatically assumes that everyone is going to reject him)
36. People will sometimes make jokes about how he must have orthorexia (an eating disorder) because he’s so in shape. It makes him really uncomfortable but he’ll never say anything about it.
37. He won’t eat until everyone else has grabbed what they want because he was so used to growing up with such little food and he always made sure his mom ate before him because he wanted to make sure she got enough
38. He cannot eat in front of someone unless someone is also eating
39. He cannot STAND the sound of his own footsteps because it makes him anxious and triggers his fight or flight response. He feels like someone’s gonna yell at him js for walking (and that’s on trauma 😘)
40. He either responds in 0.5 seconds, or will respond within 3-5 business days (depends on his mood.)
41. He lowkey has mild narcolepsy
42. He hates having to make decisions. big or small.
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