#and 9/11 is to blame for the shift

[bigassbowlingballhead]

Do country music fans every attack male country artists for speaking out about social issues or just... the women?

[permanentreverie]

if nobody’s got me i know a large vanilla latte got me can i get an amen

[smusherina]

yard work - chapter 12 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her. warning(s): a homophobic character saying some homophobic shit. listen, it's set in 2004 it was inevitable.

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 7 / chapter 8 / chapter 9 / chapter 10 / chapter 11 / chapter 13

"So..." Gretchen drawled from the passenger seat. "You're still not doing the dance with us?"

Regina glanced at her. "No."

"Cady's taking the lead." The brunette said, very badly acting as if she wasn't looking for a reaction. Regina resisted the urge to bite back, to defend her honour, and kept her eyes on the road.

"Great." She said, voice tart. "She's doing the stunt, is she?"

"Yup." Gretchen's breath hitched. "She's, uh, got it nailed down."

A mean smirk spread her lips. "Oh, really? I'm looking forward to it."

Gretchen swallowed. Regina spied from the rearview mirror Karen was watching the scenery pass by dreamily.

"What's up, Karen?" Regina asked.

"The sky!" Karen stated proudly. "And birds, I suppose. Hold on..." She felt up her boobs, pulling at her nipple obscenely. "Ouch. Yeah, it's gonna start snowing soon."

Regina, knowing the forecast had promised much the same thing, hummed. "Gonna have to stay in, then."

Gretchen shifted her weight on the passenger seat. She seemed uneasy. Both she and Karen had been severely late to arrive at her car today and had seemed... Dodgy. Regina could hardly blame her, though. Things had gotten weird recently.

She wasn't being nice. Not exactly. She'd just, kind of, dialled it back a little. A year ago she'd have spent the days leading up to Christmas break making the rounds, spreading nasty rumours about this and that, ensuring everybody's holidays were ruined just the right amount. This time, she'd forgone that.

A part of it, a large majority, was due to the Thanksgiving fiasco with Jorts. Another, smaller part, was because she was tired. She just didn't want to.

Arriving at her house, Regina parked and stepped out of her car. Gretchen and Karen followed her inside where mom greeted them with mugs of hot chocolate. Fancy chocolate and skim milk. Regina pointedly left her mug on the tray.

As she was going up the stairs, she noticed neither Gretchen nor Karen had grabbed a mug.

"Take them." She gestured vaguely back to her mom. "Don't be wasteful, girls."

Making her way up leisurely, she relished in the sound of the two girls scrambling to grab their mugs and then follow her as fast as possible. She might've loosened her hold on the student body, but Gretchen and Karen she'd keep. She didn't care if it was immoral or something, she'd done a lot of work to get them where they were.

"Shane Oman's doing a Christmas party this Friday," Gretchen informed them as they settled around Regina's room. "There's talk he's specifically invited Doris Harris."

"Who the fuck names their kid Doris Harris?" Regina scoffed and inspected her nails. She'd have to get a new set soon. "Are you going?"

"What? You- you're not?" Gretchen sputtered.

"I have... Plans." Important, top-secret plans. "Shane Oman is a sleazebag and a womanizer. Doris can have him." She said airily and looked at the two girls sitting on her floor.

"What plans do you have?" Gretchen probed. Karen looked on, seeming to be in her own world. Little specks of snow were beginning to fall outside.

"Private." She left it at that. "Who are you bringing to the party?"

"Probably Jason." Gretchen sighed. Regina's face twisted.

"You're still with that douche?" She sat down cross-legged near the two. "Why?"

"Oh, do you think I should break up with him?" Gretchen looked between her and Karen, seeming lost. "I can do that."

Regina rolled her eyes. Okay, maybe she'd put a little too much work in these two. They were old enough to think for themselves.

"Look, Gretchen..." She closed her eyes. "I'm not gonna say sorry. I'm, uh, just not going to." She didn't tack on the yet that meant to crawl up her throat. Too much too fast. "However, it's becoming apparent that my usual methods are no longer as effective. Exhibit A, Cady Heron."

Gretchen stared at her. Then, her head tilted to the side like that of an inquisitive dog. Karen was gaping at her, having probably not comprehended a single word. Regina sighed.

"Look, I'm not gonna just waste my time and energy putting people down anymore!" She was feeling way too defensive and the others hadn't even said anything. "I might, like, join a sports team or something for senior year. Focus on myself."

"Wow." Gretchen breathed out. "So, you're just gonna step down?"

"I'm still Regina fucking George. I'm not gonna stop being me." That being a vicious bitch with a lot of hate in her heart. "I'm just saying that it's getting old."

"Why? You- you can't just stop. That makes no sense. Someone's gonna take you over, like- like Doris Harris!" Gretchen took several short breaths, this close to hyperventilating. "Doris Harris is going to be the new Regina George!"

She rolled her eyes so hard her entire head rolled with them. "That statement contradicts itself. If she's the new Regina George, I'm still on top. The original."

"You sound so alike." Karen smiled. "You two are so cute. True love."

"Karen!" Gretchen snapped, sounding like a chihuahua. "Shush!"

"Who sounds alike?" Intrigued, Regina leaned forward. "Me and who? True love?"

"Oh, uh..." Karen looked to Gretchen, who was trying (and failing) to subtly shake her head, and then to Regina whose eyes bored into hers. "Uhhhhhhh..."

"She's rebooting." Regina huffed, leaning back. "Gretch, I just... I don't care anymore."

It had been a startling realization. Not a quick one despite the one eureka moment that'd brought it all together. There were things more important to her than maintaining a hierarchy in high school. It still was important, to a degree, but well. If she had to pick between one-upping some random girl at a shitty party and date night with Jorts, the choice was entirely too obvious. It was going to be date night every time.

(If she even had that privilege anymore. She's called her slurs, for fuck's sake. She could only hope her apology would be good enough.)

"How can you not care?" Gretchen screeched. Karen sipped at her hot cocoa nervously.

"I just don't." Something like this, not caring about something, wasn't a decision she could consciously make. At least, not entirely. Once you stopped caring, you just did. That was that.

It wasn't easy, though. She didn't have the strength of will to be deliberately mean to everyone, every single day, but she would not tolerate people stepping on her toes. If somebody encroached, she wouldn't hesitate to bring them down. Where the line went, distinguishing between a serious threat and a general nuisance, was the hard part.

Letting go of the instinct to just be mean was a challenging hurdle.

"She's changed you. All this time, you've been talking to her, haven't you? J, Jorts, whoever she is. She's corrupted you." Gretchen sneered. "What happened, Regina? Or should I say, Reggie?"

Regina looked at her friend, minion, accomplice- whatever.

"Excuse me?" She said, so quietly it could've been mistaken for a whisper.

"You heard me." Gretchen's sneer dissolved, old instinct to cower kicking in. "Reggie." She hissed, a feeble attempt at keeping her power.

"What the fuck do you know about J?" Regina could feel herself grow cold, anger mixing with panic, mixing with visceral, palpable terror.

Of course, all that manifested as blind fury.

"We know plenty about J. You've never shut up about her. Y'know, I used to think she was an ex-boyfriend of yours 'cause of the way you talked about her. And now, it all makes sense." Gretchen spread her arms provocatively. "Because she's gotten into your head, used her sticky, lesbo fingers to mix you up. Snap out of it, Regina. This is not who you are."

Anger roiling in her stomach, she was about to release pure acid onto the dimwitted, insensitive, stupid girl, when Karen spoke up.

"Gretchen, you're being stupid." She said so lightly. Both of them turned to look at Karen. She was watching the window, looking immensely pleased with herself. Yet another correct weather report.

"What?" Gretchen breathed out.

"Stupid. That's stupid. I didn't know you were, like, homophobic." Seeming to focus, Karen turned to face Gretchen. "I think I told you my brother's gay."

"Oh." Gretchen deflated. Regina didn't know what she should do. "Well, that's different, he's a guy! Lesbians are totally different."

"How?" Karen, more engaged than Regina had witnessed her be in a long time, kept her eerily wide eyes trained on Gretchen. "How is it any different?"

"Listen, everybody can do what they want with... Whoever, like, consents, but it's different when they shove their beliefs in people's faces." Regina, quite astounded, didn't know what to say. Karen did, though.

"J didn't shove anything in our faces. I don't think she shoved anything in Regina's face." She put her finger to her chin. "Unless they're into that sort of thing."

"Karen..." Regina sighed.

"Anyway, I think your opinions about gay people are weird, Gretchen. You should look into that."

"My opinions are just fine!" Gretchen's shoulders rose all the way up to her ears. "You guys are the weird ones! It's not like I hate gay people! There's just, y'know, healthy concern. If it was so easy to turn Regina then what can they do to impressionable little kids?" Gretchen licked her lips nervously. "What about Kylie?" She asked, looking to Regina for sympathy or agreement or something.

By that point, Regina had checked out.

"I don't think Regina's changed. Not really." Karen's owl eyes turned to her. "She's just... Shedding. Like a snake. Getting a new skin." She dragged her eyes up and down. "Yeah. New, shiny scales. Like a blonde, human green tree python. My dad has one. A snake one."

"Thanks," Regina said, tone flat. She then turned to Gretchen. "Get out."

Her hands trembled. Rage or fear, she couldn't tell where the tremor stemmed from.

"Regina, this isn't right-"

Just the sound of her voice made her blood boil. Her eyes stung too, but she refused to feel anything but anger.

"What isn't right is that you're still in my house. J is my childhood friend and the assumptions you've made about her are life-threatening. People are killed because they're gay, Gretchen. She hasn't turned me into anything, much less something you're insinuating." The claim that Jorts had turned her into a lesbian was false. If there were to be a claim about Regina's sexuality alone, then the answer wouldn't be so clear. "Get your fucking act together. I'm too good to bother with high school politics. We're going to college in two years. Stop being so small-minded and do something with your life for once."

She heaved in lungfuls of air. She stood up abruptly, walked to the door and pointed down the hallway.

"I-" Gretchen tried to say something, but Regina just reiterated her point.

"Out!"

She didn't particularly care that her friend (ex-friend) didn't have a ride home. She didn't care that she was a bigot, that Gretchen was right about her and Karen being the weird ones. She didn't care that Jorts had definitely changed her in some way.

As soon as the brunette had scuttled down the stairs, the front door slamming on her way out, Regina slumped against her door. She didn't care. She did not care.

"So, is it just us, now?" Karen asked from her spot on the floor. Regina was pretty sure she hadn't moved an inch since she plopped down. "Is J gonna be our new friend?"

"I don't know, Karen." She buried her face in her hands. Fuck. She wasn't supposed to care. "I didn't know Gretchen was like that."

"Hmm." Karen hummed. "I didn't know you weren't like that."

Her head snapped up, looking at Karen. Her expression was unreadable, like a book with blank pages.

"I... I'm scared, Karen."

"Yeah. My brother's boyfriend is from Alabama and he's been beat up before 'cause he looks gay. And he is gay, but the earring gave it away, I think. And my uncle died of AIDS and my family don't really talk about him and we weren't allowed to see him. My aunt that's in New York's been living with her best friend of, like, thirty years for forever and I went to visit one time and they had only one bedroom."

That was perhaps the longest, most coherent sentence Karen had ever said. Too bad the subject was so grim.

"Wow, Karen. Sounds like your family's full of..." What could she call them? Her mind defaulted to nasty slurs. "People like that."

"I guess." She smiled faintly. "I hear them crying sometimes, in my brother's room, when they're home for the holidays. Mama says I shouldn't go up and snuggle them until they feel better. They're having a moment." Karen looked confused at that. "Are we having a moment?"

Regina slowly unfurled from her slump against the door. "Maybe."

"Oh. Okay." She accepted easily. The familiarity of the scenario had a smile creeping back to Regina. "My brother smiles the biggest when me and his boyfriend team up against him at board games. My mom cries when we visit my uncle's grave. She tells us stories about him and shows us pictures. My aunt has three cats with her bestie and they call them their children and they wear matching rings."

"That's really sweet, Karen." Regina, now smiling in earnest, shuffled closer.

"I don't really get it." She said in the same light tone she'd use when talking about schoolwork. "Like, my brother's boyfriend is really nice so I don't get why people beat him up for dating my brother. And I think it was really mean that my grandma didn't let mama see her brother when he was sick. And my aunt and her best friend already live together, have cat-kids, and kiss on the mouth, so why can't they get married for real?"

Regina stared ahead, more than a little floored. Gretchen, simultaneously surprisingly and unsurprisingly, was a homophobe. Regina knew the political climate and knew that being openly gay was social suicide, and sometimes literal suicide, but she hadn't expected someone so close to her to be like that. They hadn't talked about it much, to be fair. Besides, Regina wasn't much better. While she might've not been a real homophobe, as in actually subscribed to the ideology, she'd done plenty of homophobic acts.

Whether or not in the name of projection or denial didn't really matter. Janis 'Imi'ike had been the first girl she'd subjected to hate crimes and discrimination, but not the last. How many times had she shoved other girls under the bus so she could get off scot-free? How many times had she done it for a twisted sense of fun?

Too many, was the easy answer. Not enough, whispered the scared, hidden thing in the back rooms of her mind.

And Karen was an ally. A supporter of the cause. And unexpectedly well-spoken when she had something she liked to talk about.

"Karen, I like girls."

"Me too!"

Regina's heart beat like a drum. She was beginning to sweat.

"No- I mean, like, I'm... A lesbian. I guess."

"Okay!"

She snuck a glance at the other girl. She was peering mournfully into her empty mug.

"Like your aunt and her best friend." She took a deep breath. "I like girls in that way."

"Uhh, duh," Karen smiled at her, beamed, really. "J is your true love."

"I wouldn't go that far." Regina sighed but had to purse her lips to keep from smiling. At the same time, a knot tightened in her chest, like hiccups trying to escape. She threw her head back and puffed out a breath, blinking rapidly.

"Let's go get more hot chocolate and I'll tell you about my talent show performance." She wiped discreetly at her eyes and extended a hand to Karen.

"Hot cocoa!" The girl exclaimed as she pulled herself up with Regina's help. "Ouuuhh, what kinda performance?"

"A song." Regina guided them down the hallway. "For her."

Obviously, she had more than just a song planned. A proper apology, for one, was in the works. Karen didn't need to know about that, though. That was between her and J.

Notes: Boo I lied it's not the last one. I thought it would be! I was wrong! I did start rambling like I kind of predicted in the notes of the last chapter. Or, like, I felt the ending would be a little too abrupt without some downtime. So have some Regina POV!

Will no longer be making predictions about when the end is. I'll only be contradicting myself lol. But like, the arc is coming to a close, a natural end is coming. And then the epilogue things.

Praying to god the taglist will work. Trying a new method today, fingers crossed! Hand-typing every single fucking name, no commas in between names, the utmost technicalities. This is the night fellas, the night we've been waiting for.

Edit: it didn't work. in fact, it worked worse than the other times! fuck! put another version of the list, back with commas, and it seems to tag some people but not all. gonna have to do some scouring on the internets.

Taglist: @autorasexy, @wedfan2, @unadulterated-moron, @modernsapphicism , @9unknown0 , @sage-rose2000 , @massive-honkas , @nattys-swiftie , @likefirenrain , @luz-enjoyer , @dandelions4us , @natashamaximoff-69 , @alexkolax , @jareaul0ver , @here4theqts , @charleeeesworld , @natsbiggestfan1 , @brocoliisscared , @yellowwallflowers , @scarlettbitchx , @ayoungexwife , @cyberbonesworld , @syddie-reads , @screechcat , @theenglishswiftie , @gabby-duhh , @sweetmissnothing , @masterofpuppets-10 , @l1lass , @starved-mortal , @nothanksbye07 , @nenas19 , @jvuyii , @starry-night17 , @reneeswife24 , @glorioushamsterqueen , @krononan , @slug-on-bike , @rayisaknight , @chaseatlanticlover91 , @reginassweetheart , @mirage018

(if you want to be added to the taglist, comment so on this post! beware it seldom works. i try my best.)

[snowysosturn]

Speeding Car - Matt Sturniolo Part 11

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29

Pairing : y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary : After six years with your boyfriend Alex, you start to mentally check out. At a UCLA party, Alex reconnects with his childhood friend Emily, who proposes a double date with her boyfriend Matt. Your attraction to Matt grows as he pays you the first real attention you've had in years, sparking a complicated emotional journey.

Warnings : MDNI, tension, arguments, mention of physical fight, toxic boyfriend

Matt’s POV

The drive back to my place was suffocating. I could feel the weight of unspoken words pressing down on me. Emily was yapping away next to me, about all the sights she wanted to see in Barcelona. Alex sat in the back, his face stern as he stared out the window, lost in thought. Every now and then, I caught him shifting in his seat, hoping it was unease from regret, but he didn’t say anything about it. I could tell he was still pissed, probably still replaying the argument with Y/n in his head. I couldn’t stop thinking about it either. Her voice, filled with pain, it had left me feeling some sense of guilt. I knew he was like this, but I still didn’t reach out to her at all over the last 4 weeks.

As we pulled into the garage, I noticed the lights were still on inside. Nick and Chris were probably still awake, maybe waiting up for us. I wasn’t sure how this night was going to end, but the air felt thick with unspoken words. I couldn’t wait to get out of the car and break the tension, tension that only I was feeling. We walked into the house, and Nick was the first to greet us. He barely glanced at me before muttering a quick “Hey” and disappearing upstairs to his room. I knew he was still pissed about our argument earlier, and I couldn’t blame him. I hadn’t handled it well. Nick was protective, and when he believed something was wrong, he was like a dog with a bone. I could feel the rift between us.

Chris, on the other hand, was his usual laid back self. He came over, giving Alex a quick nod. “Hey man, you can crash in my room tonight” he said, sounding genuine. “I’ll stay in with Nick.”

“Thanks” Alex mumbled, managing a half hearted smile.

“No problem” Chris gave me a look before heading down the hall to grab his things. I wasn’t sure if he knew what was going on, but his presence was comforting in its own way.

Once Chris was gone, the three of us settled in the living room. We ordered takeout and picked a random movie on Netflix to watch, though I doubt any of us were really paying attention. Emily was curled up next to me, her head resting on my shoulder, but I couldn’t focus on the warmth of her touch. My mind kept drifting back to the argument I had overheard, the way her voice had cracked when she told him how much she had done for him.

Hours passed, and eventually, Emily yawned, stretching her arms above her head. “Think I’m gonna head to bed, we’re up early.” she said softly, her eyes heavy with exhaustion.

“Alright” I replied, kissing the top of her head. “I’ll be in in a bit.”

She nodded, giving Alex a sleepy smile before disappearing down the hallway to my room. As soon as she was out of sight, I turned to Alex, trying to gauge his mood.

“I’ll show you Chris’ room.” I said, standing up. I wanted to talk to him but not here, not with Emily so close by. I needed answers, and I needed to understand what was going on with him and Y/n. The way she sounded earlier, it was like she was at her breaking point.

Alex followed me down the stairs to Chris’ room, his footsteps heavy. The room was a little messy, with clothes scattered here and there, but being honest, Alex didn’t deserve anything more. I closed the door behind us, taking a moment to compose myself before turning to face him.

“So how’s Y/n?” I asked, my voice quieter than I intended. The question hung between us, emotionally charged with everything I wasn’t saying.

Alex snorted, shaking his head dismissively. “She’s.. whatever, man. She’s just being dramatic at the minute. I mean, I get it, she’s pissed off because I’m not spending every waking moment with her, but come on. It’s not like I’m out partying all the time or anything.”

Yeah because you can’t.

“Is she not looking after you in every sense the last few weeks? Do you not think she deserves to be appreciated?” I bit back.

Alex scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Oh, here we go. You’re blowing this way out of proportion. Y/n likes to take care of things, she’s always been like that. It’s not like I asked her to do all that.

His words hit me like a punch to the gut, and I could feel my fists clenching at my sides. The way he talked about her, like she was just some annoyance, made my blood boil.

“You seriously think that just because you didn’t ask, it means you can take her for granted? She’s doing it because she cares about you Alex, and you’re treating her like she’s disposable. You can’t just brush her off like she’s nothing.”

Alex rolled his eyes, clearly not getting it. “Dude, it’s not like that. She just doesn’t get what it’s like, being on the team, having this pressure. It’s not like she’s doing anything important, she doesn’t even go to college. She’s got all this free time, so yeah, she can help me out.”

Yeah she doesn’t even go to college but is still doing your shitty work for you.

“She’s doing it because she cares about you. The least you could do is show a little appreciation. Instead, you’re acting like she’s a burden.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “You’re being dramatic. Y/n’s fine. She’s not going anywhere. She knows I’m busy. It’s not like she expects me to drop everything for her.”

I stared at him, dumbfounded. She’s not going anywhere. I now know he acts like this because he thinks she’ll never leave. If i could have my way right now, this would be Alex’s second physical fight since I’ve known him. I was so lost in my anger, that no words came out.

“She’s not some fragile little thing.” Alex shot back, a defensive edge to his voice. “She knows how it is. I’ve got my own shit to deal with. I can’t do everything she wants at the drop of a hat.”

“You’re missing the point.” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “It’s about being there for her. About showing her that she matters to you. Right now, you’re not doing that.”

Alex narrowed his eyes at me, clearly irritated. “And why do you care so much about what happens between me and Y/n? It’s none of your business, she’s my girlfriend not yours.”

Fuck why do I care so much? Why am I defending her like this to him, we haven’t even spoken in 4 weeks. How do I cover this?

“I care because she’s Emily’s friend.” I lied, hoping it would cover up the intensity of my emotions. Fuck was that the best excuse I could come up with?

“And if Emily knew how you’ve been treating Y/n, she wouldn’t be happy about it. You know that.”

Alex snorted, shaking his head. “Emily’s friend, huh? Is that all this is?”

“Yeah, that’s all it is.” I replied, my jaw tight. I had to tread carefully here. “Emily would be upset if she knew you were blowing Y/n off like this. I care about Emily. You care about Emily. Let’s not upset Emily. Oh my god I’m digging a hole right now… Say something else dumbass.

“I’m just trying to make sure things don’t get worse between you two, you know, keep the friendship group alive.”

Just stop fucking speaking.

Alex’s smirk faded, but he still didn’t look like he was taking any of this seriously. “Look, I’ll talk to Y/n, alright? I’ll smooth things over. She’ll get over it. She always does.”

“Just.. think about what I said, alright?” I muttered, taking a step back. “Before you fuck things up beyond repair.”

For a moment, we just stood there, the tension between us hitting off every wall in the room. I could see the clogs turning in Alex’s head, but instead of admitting he was wrong, he just scoffed again and turned away.

“Whatever, man. I’m tired. Let’s just drop it.”

I wanted to keep going, to make him see how much he was hurting Y/n, but I knew it would be pointless. Alex wasn’t ready to hear it, and pushing him further would only make things worse.

“Fine..” I muttered, stepping back. “Get some sleep.”

As I turned to leave, I couldn’t help but feel a wave of frustration and guilt. I knew Y/n deserved better, but I was powerless to do anything about it. The door creaked slightly as I opened it, and the sound seemed to echo in the quiet room.

Before I could leave, Alex called after me, his voice low and almost reluctant. “Matt.. I appreciate what you’re trying to do. But Y/n and I, we’ll work it out. We always do.”

I paused in the doorway, my back to him. Part of me wanted to believe him, to trust that they could fix whatever was broken between them. But another part of me, the part that had seen Y/n’s tear streaked face, couldn’t shake the feeling that things were already too far gone.

“Just don’t take her for granted” I said finally, not turning around. “She deserves better than that.”

With that, I left the room, the weight of our conversation heavy on my shoulders. Maybe I shouldn’t of said anything, this might get me in trouble. As I climbed back up the stairs, trying to shake off the conversation, I heard quick footsteps echoing down the hallway. Nick was running down the stairs from his room, clearly in a rush.

“Where are you going?” I asked, stopping in my tracks as he reached the bottom of the stairs.

Nick glanced at me, slightly out of breath. “I’m heading over to Y/n’s place. I’m gonna crash there tonight.”

I felt a hit of something..jealousy? worry?..stab at my chest. “Wait, what? Why?”

Nick shrugged, but there was something more behind his casual demeanor. “Just thought I’d check in on her, you know? With everything going on… I figured she could use some company. And honestly, I don’t really feel like staying here tonight.”

His words were like a jab, a reminder of the tension that had been hanging over all of us since earlier. “You don’t think it’s a little... weird? Just showing up at her place?” As if it’s not something I haven’t done before.

Nick gave me a knowing look, one that made my stomach twist uncomfortably. “Weird? Why would it be weird? She’s a friend, Matt. And I think she could use one right now. And besides, we’ve been texting, she knows I’m coming over, she ordered the Uber.”

He wasn’t wrong. After what I’d just heard from Alex, it was clear Y/n needed someone. I just didn’t know how I felt about that someone being Nick. How bad I desperately wanted it to be me.

“You think she’s okay?” I asked, my voice quieter now, remembering Emily is in the next room.

Nick’s expression softened, now bringing his voice to a whisper. “Honestly? I don’t know. She’s been dealing with a lot, and I don’t think Alex is really helping. I just wanna be there for her. Maybe cheer her up, get her mind off things.”

I leaned against the wall, trying to sort through the mess of emotions in my head. “What do you think’s going on with her and Alex?” As if I didn’t already know everything.

Nick hesitated, his gaze shifting slightly. “It’s not really my place to say. But from what I’ve seen, it’s not good. He’s been treating her like she’s some kind of accessory, like she’s just there to make his life easier.”

“Yeah..” I muttered, thinking back to the argument I’d just had with Alex. “He’s a total asshole.”

Nick nodded, his face serious. “Exactly. And that’s why I’m going over there. Someone needs to remind her she’s worth more than that.”

I couldn’t help but feel a sting of guilt. Here I was, tangled up in my own feelings, while Nick was stepping up to be the friend Y/n needed. “You really care about her, huh?”

Nick looked at me, his eyes earnest. “Of course I do. She’s cool, she’s fun to be around, and she’s dealing with all this shit right now. Someone’s gotta be there for her, and I’m not gonna let her go through it alone.”

There was something in the way he said it that made me pause. I realized then that Nick wasn’t just doing this out of obligation or pity, he genuinely cared about Y/n, maybe more than I’d given him credit for.

He started to walk away, but I called out after him, “Nick, wait.”

He turned back, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

I hesitated, then sighed. “Just.. take care of her, okay? I know she doesn’t show it, but she’s probably hurting more than shes letting on.”

Nick’s expression softened, and he nodded. “I will. Don’t worry.”

With that, he turned and headed for the door, leaving me standing there, a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions swirling inside me. I watched as he left, feeling a strange mix of relief and unease.

I walked into my room, Emily fast asleep in the middle of my bed. I tapped her ever so slightly so she would turn over onto her side, so I could get in beside her. The events of tonight replayed over in my head. It was all becoming too much.

Maybe Alex and Emily leaving the country for the next few days is a good thing..

a/n : everyone is still fightinggggg, atleast Emily and Alex are disappearing (kinda) for a bit in the next chapter..

edit: rereading this back as a chapter idk if im the happiest with it but it’ll all make sense as we go along

taglist : @muwapsturniolo @anitahunt @sturnfannn @jayde510 @chrissfavhoe @babyalliah-777 @v33angel @urmom69lol @willowrites @ribread03 @2muchofaslvt @sturnsaver @sleepysturniolo @jcsturniolo11 @jessie-essie @hoeforchrizz @mynbbys @sturniolopanini @mattsturnxoxo @delicatechrry @t77te @sturnsyaper69 @hotdismylife @maggot3647 @ivysturnss @noplaceissafeanymore @mattssgf @yourfavsturniologirl @maethem0nth @sillyponygrl @mattyblover07 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @dominicfikeenthusiast @mattsfavbigtitties

[shanastoryteller]

Happy holidays! Do you have any zagreus interacting with other gods? Thanks so much

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15

Other people are learning about Zagreus.

Not that they know it's him, of course. He goes by the moniker prince.

Just enough to direct prayers and pay tributes, but a nameless god standing against Demeter? It's enough to send the whole pantheon in an uproar.

It's enough to send Demeter to heights of rage that Artemis previously thought her incapable of reaching.

There are gardens that her frost can't touch. Fruit she she has no hand in growing.

There are people who will not submit and die as she wishes it, blaming mortals for her daughter's death and so making them pay the price for a lost goddess.

Not even Zeus has rained destruction upon the mortals like Demeter had and not even Zeus can stop her.

It's too much. Too much taken, too much suffering.

Persephone was a sweet girl. But her loss is not worth the life of every mortal upon the earth.

Artemis is with Aphrodite, both of them having been evoked powerfully enough to send shivers down their spine. She leans against her spear and tried to think of any other way to fix this.

It's a town on the edge of collapse, a thick forest between them and the rest of civilization. In spring the journey is long but easy enough, but it hasn't been spring for a long time.

There's no game to hunt. Loved ones are dying. They beg and beg to any god that will listen but while every god can hear them no god can save them.

None but one.

But how would they know? This far out, there only contact is other isolated villages too deep in the world.

"I'm tired," Aphrodite whispers, knees pulled to her chest, something about her coltish in her helplessness.

Artemis has never tried this. She doesn't even know if it will work. But he won't ever find his way here on his own. "Can you keep a secret, Aphrodite?"

She shifts her head enough to look at her with a single garnet eye. "What secret do you have, sister mine?"

"Aphrodite," she says warningly.

She huffs, amusement aging her. "Yes, yes, my silence or my life. What is it?"

Artemis hopes she doesn't regret this. She hopes it works. "Prince Zagreus!"

"What's Zag going to do?" Aphrodite blinks. "He can't even-"

She cuts herself off and Artemis knows she's thinking through the first part, coming to the obvious conclusion and rejecting it out of hand.

"Artemis?"

They both turn and Zagreus is standing there. Not as image or projection like he was the last time they met face to face, but solidly beside her in the flesh.

He grimaces in pain and raises a hand to his side before straightening and forcing his arm down. Whatever it is that keeps him in his father's realm still has some hold on him, it seems.

"I'm kind of in the middle of something," he says. There's blood on his teeth. There wasn't any a couple seconds ago. "Oh, hi Aphrodite. Er. Please don't tell anyone."

"It's you?" Aphrodite demands. "You?"

"I am me," he agrees.

Artemis would beat him if they had the time for it. "Can you help them? This village will die. Word of you hasn't reached them and your temples are too far to travel too even if they had."

He grins it's all red. His blood drips down his chin. "It's not going to be pretty."

Artemis has never thought about how exactly the god of life and blood spreads his blessings. She thinks she's regretting that now.

"Pretty's my domain anyway," Aphrodite snaps. "Help them."

Zagreus moves too quickly for Artemis to stop. He grabs her spear and slices down his chest and then there's blood everywhere, pouring out of him, more than should be in any one body.

Aphrodite screams and Artemis wrenches the spear away, horrified. "This is celestial silver! You can't - even gods can't heal from it!"

"Death heals all wounds," he says and there's blood down his chin, spilling out his mouth with his every breath.

Then he's running.

They talk off after him and it's easy to follow his trail, the deluge blood and smell of copper filling her nose as they chase him.

Zagreus is mad. When she wasn't looking he went insane and now she's killed him.

They have to slow him down, have to get him to Hermes. It should be easy, they're goddesses and he's dying, but he stays fast enough to stay just out of their grasps.

He's lose a body's worth of blood a dozen times over and yet still more flows.

He finally trips and falls, giving gurgling breathes.

"Zagreus!" she shouts as she and Aphrodite fall into the snow beside him. "Zagreus, hold on, it's going to be okay."

He laughs and pats her cheek. He's too pale. "Relax. I die all the time."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Aphrodite demands, trying to put her hands over the wound but it's too long to stem.

Zagreus doesn't answer.

His body goes slack and it takes Artemis several seconds to realize the person screaming is her.

Aphrodite is sitting there shell shocked and bewildered and then Zagreus's body sinks into the earth, not even reacting to Artemis's attempts to hold on.

"Oh."

She looks up and Aphrodite is looking behind them. Artemis slowly follows her gaze.

Every place blood touched the ground, there now grows bushes of bright purple berries, more vibrant than any fruit she's seen grow that shade. They grow thick and fat on every branch and if there anything like the other food in Prince's gardens, it will keep them alive and they'll be able to grow more themselves.

If they're willing to sacrifice the blood.

The next time Artemis sees Zagreus, she's going to kill him.

[onebadassunicorn]

His Blue-Eyed Angel

pairing: Azriel x Reader

content warnings: oh the angst...

word count: 3.7k

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Story tags: @bravo-delta-eccho @tele86 @tiredsleepyhead @celestialgilb @theflowerswillbloom @fuckingsimp4azriel @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret

********************

Chapter 13

Azriel POV

Y/n woke before the sun each morning, the early light barely breaking over the mountains as she slipped silently into the training ring. The air was crisp and cool, her wings stretching slightly as she prepared for the morning ahead. Cassian was always waiting for her, a grin on his face and an easy joke on his lips as they began their sessions.

It had been weeks since the kiss, weeks since Azriel had called it a mistake, and she had done everything in her power to avoid him. She rose earlier, trained only with Cassian, per Azriel’s request, and left the training ring before Azriel even arrived. She barely spoke during meals at the House of Wind, and when she did, her words were directed to anyone but him. She wouldn’t even look at him.

He told himself this was for the best. That she was giving him what he wanted. He had made it clear that what had happened between them in the alley was a mistake, and if avoiding him made it easier for her, then so be it. But every time he caught the faint scent of her lingering in a room, his resolve wavered, and his heart ached.

On one particular morning, Azriel rose earlier than normal. He stood at the edge of the training ring, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched Y/n spar with Cassian. His shadows curled around his boots, restless and agitated, mirroring the turmoil inside him. She didn’t even glance in his direction. She hadn’t for weeks.

It drove him mad.

He didn’t blame her. He had hurt her. But the more she pulled away, the more he wanted to close the gap, to tell her the truth, to make her see how much she meant to him.

But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He had made his decision, and now he had to live with it, no matter how much it tore him apart.

Y/n tightened her grip on the hilt of her practice blade, her breath steady as she moved through another set of drills with Cassian. His praise was loud and enthusiastic, and she smiled faintly at his encouragement, but her heart wasn’t in it.

Azriel clenched his fists at his sides, his hazel eyes narrowing as he watched Y/n and Cassian train. Cassian laughed at something she said, his hand clapping her shoulder as they took a break, and Azriel’s jaw tightened.

He needed to stop this. He needed to stop watching her, stop torturing himself with the sight of her smile, her strength, her fire. But no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t tear his gaze away.

So, he did the only thing he could think of: he spent more time with Elain.

He made sure she saw him with Elain. At meals, in the gardens, in the halls of the River House. He let himself linger beside Elain, let his voice soften when he spoke to her, let his wings shift slightly as though he was at ease. All of it was calculated, a deliberate effort to convince Y/n—and himself—that he didn’t care.

But it didn’t work. Not on him.

******

Y/N POV

I could feel him.

Azriel.

He was watching me again, his gaze like a tangible weight that pressed against my wings, my back, my soul. I refused to look at him, refused to acknowledge his presence. But no matter how much I tried to focus on Cassian, on the rhythmic clash of blades, I couldn’t escape the way Azriel’s attention lingered on me, like a shadow I couldn’t shake.

My chest tightened every time I saw Azriel with Elain. It was like a knife twisting deeper each time I caught him leaning close to her, his voice low and intimate, or offering her one of his rare, quiet smiles. I told myself it didn’t matter, that this was what he wanted. But the ache in my chest refused to fade.

It hurt.

Gods, it hurt.

And the worst part was that I couldn’t do anything about it. I had made my choice to stay away, to give him the distance he seemed to want. But every time I saw him with Elain, every time I felt the weight of his gaze on me when he thought I wasn’t looking, I wondered if I had made the wrong choice.

If I was giving him what he wanted—or what I thought he deserved.

I shook my head, pushing the thoughts away as I threw herself into another drill with Cassian. The sharp clash of blades echoed through the ring, and I forced myself to focus on the movements, the rhythm, the fight. But no matter how much I tried to bury my feelings, they always found a way to rise to the surface, leaving me more confused—and more heartbroken—than ever.

My routine of avoidance continued, but it didn’t stop the constant ache in my chest every time I crossed paths with Azriel. Especially when he was with Elain.

He made it impossible to ignore. Every time she was near, Azriel seemed to go out of his way to ensure I saw him with Elain. Whether it was a gentle brush of his fingers against Elain’s arm as they talked, the subtle way he leaned in to hear her better, or the soft, rare smiles he gave her—smiles I had once foolishly thought were meant for me.

It was deliberate. It had to be. The way his hazel eyes would flick toward me, just briefly, to make sure I was watching. And I always was. No matter how much I told myself to look away, my gaze would linger, and each small touch felt like a dagger twisting deeper into my chest.

At breakfast one morning, I sat silently at the far end of the table in the dining hall of the House of Wind. I picked at my food, barely hearing Cassian’s cheerful banter as my eyes betrayed me, darting toward the other end of the room.

Azriel was seated beside Elain, his posture relaxed, his wings tucked neatly behind him. He leaned in close as Elain spoke softly, his head tilting just enough that a strand of his dark hair fell into his face. Elain reached out, her delicate fingers brushing it back, and Azriel let her. He didn’t flinch or pull away. Instead, he gave her a faint smile, his hazel eyes warm.

My stomach churned.

I felt like I might be sick.

I dropped my fork onto my plate, the sound louder than my intended, drawing Cassian’s attention. “You, okay?” he asked, concern flickering across his face as he watched me.

“I’m fine,” I lied, my voice steady but strained. I forced myself to smile at him, even as the urge to flee the room grew stronger with every passing second.

Cassian glanced toward Azriel and Elain, his brows furrowing slightly, but he didn’t press.

I stood abruptly, my chair scraping against the floor as I pushed it back. I murmured a quick excuse about needing to train early and left the room, my footsteps echoing through the hall as I hurried away.

******

Azriel POV

Azriel watched her leave, his chest tightening as he saw the strain in her expression, the way her wings drooped slightly as she walked away. He had seen the way her gaze lingered on him and Elain, the flash of pain in her blue eyes before she turned away.

But he told himself this was for the best. If she thought he wanted Elain, she would keep her distance. She would move on. And maybe, just maybe, she would find someone better. Someone who could give her what he couldn’t.

Even as the thought made him want to rip the world apart.

******

Y/n POV

I found myself in the training ring again, throwing myself into drills with a ferocity that even Cassian hadn’t seen before. Every strike of my blade, every pivot, every movement was fueled by the pain twisting in my chest.

I wanted to scream, to cry, to demand answers. Why was Azriel doing this? Why was he deliberately rubbing it in my face, making sure I saw every touch, every smile he shared with Elain?

My mind spiraled as I pushed herself harder, my wings snapping out for balance as I moved through a particularly brutal set of drills.

All I knew was that every time I saw him with Elain, every time he touched her, it felt like I was being torn apart from the inside. And each time I saw them, a little piece inside of me began to die.

And the worst part?

I couldn’t tell if he even cared.

******

Cassian POV

Cassian found Azriel in the sitting room of the House of Wind, his brother seated in his usual chair near the fire, shadows curling lazily around his boots. Azriel was nursing a glass of whiskey, his hazel eyes distant as he stared into the flames. It was a sight Cassian had grown all too familiar with over the past weeks, and frankly, he was getting tired of it.

“Az,” Cassian said, his tone sharp as he leaned against the doorway. “We need to talk.”

Azriel glanced up, his expression unreadable as he took another sip of his drink. “About what?” he asked quietly.

Cassian stepped into the room, his arms crossed over his chest. “About Y/n. And what the hell is going on with you.”

Azriel’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing, his gaze shifting back to the fire.

“She’s been tearing herself apart in the training ring,” Cassian continued, his voice firm. “Every morning, before the sun’s even up. She’s more focused, more aggressive than I’ve ever seen her. Hell, she’s wearing herself out to the point where I have to tell her to stop before she collapses. And you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

Azriel’s shadows flared slightly, curling higher around him, but he didn’t respond.

Cassian stepped closer, his brows furrowing as he studied his brother. “You need to fix whatever this is, Az. She’s hurting, and you’re just sitting here brooding. It’s not fair to her, and it’s not fair to you.”

Azriel exhaled sharply, setting his glass down with a clink. “I’m going to start focusing on Elain,” he said finally, his voice flat. “It’s for the best.”

Cassian blinked, his brow arching as he processed the words. “Elain?” he repeated, his tone incredulous. “You’re going to ‘focus’ on Elain? That’s your solution?”

Azriel nodded, his hazel eyes hard as he looked up at Cassian. “It’s the only way to make this stop. To make her stop looking at me like—” He cut himself off, his wings twitching behind him.

Cassian’s eyes narrowed, his arms dropping to his sides as he stepped closer. “Like what, Az? Like she cares about you? Like she feels something for you?” He shook his head, a humorless laugh escaping him. “You’re lying to yourself, brother. And you’re trying to lie to me.”

Azriel’s shadows coiled tighter, his grip on the armrest of the chair tightening. “You don’t understand, Cassian.”

“No, I think I do,” Cassian countered, his voice sharp. “You’re pushing her away because you’re scared. Because you don’t think you deserve her. And instead of facing it, you’re hiding behind Elain.”

Azriel flinched slightly, his jaw clenching as he looked away. “Elain and I make sense,” he said quietly, though even he didn’t sound convinced.

Cassian laughed, a short, bitter sound. “Do you hear yourself? ‘Make sense’? That’s what you’re going with? Az, look at me.”

Reluctantly, Azriel met his brother’s gaze, his expression dark and conflicted.

“Elain doesn’t set your shadows off like this,” Cassian said, gesturing to the tendrils of darkness curling around Azriel. “She doesn’t make you furious, or desperate, or drive you to drink yourself into oblivion. But Y/n does. Because you feel something for her. Something real.”

Azriel didn’t respond, his throat working as he swallowed hard.

Cassian leaned closer, his voice softening slightly. “You’re not fooling anyone, Az. Least of all yourself. If you keep this up, you’re going to lose her. And when that happens, don’t come crying to me.”

Azriel’s shadows stilled for a moment, his gaze dropping to the glass on the table. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly, but the conflict in his eyes remained.

Cassian straightened, giving him a pointed look before turning to leave. “Figure it out, brother. Before it’s too late.”

******

Y/n POV

The dining room of the House of Wind was alive with chatter and laughter as the inner circle gathered for their family dinner. Plates were piled high, and wine flowed freely as everyone settled into their usual banter.I sat toward the middle of the long table, my wings tucked neatly behind me as I toyed with the food on my plate.

I wasn’t in the mood for dinner tonight, not when every nerve in my body was already on edge. And it only got worse when Azriel walked in.

He was quiet as always, his shadows trailing behind him like obedient companions, but there was a subtle shift in his demeanor as he moved to his seat beside Elain. Elara’s chest tightened as she watched him pull out Elain’s chair for her, his hand lingering briefly on the backrest before he sat down. His shadows pulled away from her though, almost in protest at the nearness of her.

He leaned in close as Elain said something to him, his hazel eyes softening, and I swore I saw him smile—a rare, quiet smile that had once made my heart flutter. Now, it only made my stomach churn.

The conversation at the table carried on, but I couldn’t focus. My gaze flicked toward Azriel despite myself, and I saw him pouring wine into Elain’s glass, his movements deliberate and smooth. He murmured something to her, something quiet enough that only Elain could hear, and Elain smiled shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

It was too much.

I dropped my fork, the sound clattering against my plate. I immediately straightened, forcing my expression into a mask of calm, but the ache in my chest was almost unbearable. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, like the walls of the room were closing in on me.

Lucien, seated beside me, noticed immediately. His amber eye softened, and he leaned closer, his voice low and careful. “Are you alright?”

I nodded quickly, my lips pressing into a tight line. “I’m fine,” I lied, though my voice trembled slightly.

Lucien wasn’t convinced. He glanced toward Azriel and Elain, his gaze lingering for a moment before he returned his attention to me. “Come on,” he said softly, his hand resting gently on my arm. “Let’s get some air.”

I hesitated, glancing at him, then toward Azriel. For a moment, my gaze collided with Azriel’s, and the intensity in his hazel eyes made my breath hitch. He was watching me, his expression unreadable but his focus unwavering.

But then his attention shifted back to Elain, his hand reaching up to brush the hair back from her face as they talked quietly, their faces close together. My stomach churned again, bile rising in my throat and I nodded quickly, standing.

Lucien guided me toward the door, his hand lightly resting on my lower back as we left the room. The cool hallway air hit me like a blessing, and I let out a shaky breath.

“You don’t have to pretend, you know,” Lucien said gently, his voice low.

I looked at him, my eyes glassy with unshed tears. “Pretend what?”

“That it doesn’t hurt,” Lucien replied simply, his gaze steady and kind.

I swallowed hard, my hands tightening into fists at my sides. “It doesn’t matter,” I said after a moment, my voice barely above a whisper. “He’s made his choice.”

Lucien studied her for a moment, then let out a soft sigh. “Sweetheart,” he began, but I shook my head, cutting him off.

“Don’t,” I said, my tone sharper now. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Lucien didn’t push further. Instead, he offered her a small, reassuring smile. “Well, at least let me keep you company out here. Dinner is overrated anyway.”

I managed a faint smile in return, grateful for his presence even if I couldn’t find the words to say it.

******

Azriel POV

Back in the dining room, Azriel watched them leave, his hand tightening subtly around his wine glass. His shadows curled restlessly at his feet, agitated by the knot of emotions swirling in his chest.

He had seen the way Lucien leaned close to her, the way his hand rested on her back as he guided her out. And even though Azriel had told himself this was what he wanted—Y/n moving on, finding someone better—it still made his blood boil.

His gaze lingered on the door long after they disappeared, the bond between him and Y/n humming faintly in his mind like a reminder of what he was trying to ignore. He turned back to the table, his expression hardening as he forced himself to focus on Elain.

But no matter how much he tried, the image of Y/n walking away with Lucien burned in his mind, a quiet torment he couldn’t escape.

******

Lucien POV

Lucien stood beside Y/n, the cool breeze tugging at our hair and at her wings as the silence stretched between us. His eyes lingered on her profile, the pain etched into her features tightening something in his chest. Finally, he spoke, his voice gentle but firm.

“Y/n,” he said softly, “you need to be with someone who chooses you. Every time. Someone who sees you for who you are and never makes you doubt your worth.”

She turned to look at him, her beautiful blue eyes glassy with unshed tears. “It’s not that simple, Lucien,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I thought…” She trailed off, unable to find the words.

Lucien shook his head, stepping closer. “No,” he said, his tone resolute. “It is that simple. You deserve someone who treats you like you’re the most important thing in their world. Someone who would never hurt you the way he has.”

Y/n’s throat tightened, and she looked away, her wings drooping slightly. “Maybe that’s just not meant for me.”

“Don’t say that” Lucien said quickly, his voice laced with frustration. “You’re strong. Stronger than you realize. You’re smart, fierce, and one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever met, inside and out.” He hesitated, his gaze softening. “You deserve so much more than this. More than what Azriel is giving you.”

She blinked, her tears finally spilling over, and Lucien didn’t hesitate. He pulled her into his arms, his embrace warm and steady, his hands gentle as they wrapped around her back in a comforting embrace. For a moment, Y/n let herself lean into him, her tears soaking into his shirt as he held her tightly.

As they pulled apart, their faces lingered close, their breaths mingling in the cool night air. Lucien’s gaze searched hers, his heart breaking at the devastation in her eyes. Then, slowly, he leaned in, his lips brushing against her forehead in a gentle kiss. He pulled her back into his arms, her arms wrapped around his waist, her head laying on his chest as they stared out into the night.

 “You’re incredible, Y/n,” he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. “Don’t let anyone make you feel otherwise.”

******

Azriel POV

Azriel left the table shortly after Lucien and Y/n left to get some air, his stomach suddenly sour. As he moved past the shadowed archway leading to the balcony, he froze, his hazel eyes locking on the scene before him.

He had been restless after leaving Elain at the table, the guilt of his actions eating away at him more than he cared to admit. Something had drawn him downstairs—perhaps the faint hum of the bond he’d been trying so desperately to ignore, or the need to find Y/n despite everything he’d told himself. But the sight of her with Lucien, the way she leaned into him, the way Lucien’s hands tenderly cradled her in his arms as he kissed her forehead, was like a dagger to his chest.

Azriel’s shadows stilled around him, their usual restless energy suddenly absent as the weight of the moment pressed down on him. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from the way her arms wrapped around Lucien’s waist, her fingers curling into Lucien’s shirt as though he were anchoring her. The tenderness between them, the quiet intimacy—it was everything Azriel had denied her. Everything he’d tried to push away.

And now, it seemed, she had found it elsewhere.

His chest tightened painfully, his breath catching as the realization struck him like a physical blow. He had pushed her too far. In his attempts to protect her, to convince himself he wasn’t good enough for her, he had literally driven her straight into someone else’s arms. Someone who wasn’t afraid to cherish her, to show her the care and affection she deserved.

A part of him wanted to step forward, to pull her away, to tell her that Lucien’s touch wasn’t what she needed—that he was what she needed. But he couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. He could only stand there, crushed under the weight of his own choices, as the bond between them hummed faintly in his chest, a cruel reminder of everything he’d thrown away.

Lucien leaned back slightly, his hand brushing through Elara’s hair, his eyes soft as he whispered something Azriel couldn’t hear. She nodded, her lips curving into a faint, bittersweet smile as she laid her head back against his chest and sighed contentedly.

Azriel’s throat worked as he swallowed hard, the pain in his chest twisting deeper. He stepped back into the shadows, his wings shifting slightly as he turned and walked away, his footsteps silent but his heart shattering with every step.

For the first time, he allowed himself to admit the truth he had been running from for weeks: he had wanted to protect Y/n, but instead, he had only pushed her away. And now, as he left the balcony and retreated into the night, he couldn’t help but wonder if he had lost her forever.

[incognit0slut]

Right Kind of Wrong (16)

She never thought she’d be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Part Summary: Spencer is faced with a dangerous confrontation. wc: 3.4k

Series Warnings: 18+ explicit content, graphic details of murders, mentions of suicide, mentions of SA

A/n: this part went through so much editing until I was satisfied with it, also, can't believe this is ending soon!!

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15

EVERYTHING FINALLY FELL INTO PLACE. Although it took longer than it normally did to solve a case, Spencer finally gathered every piece of information, every obscure clue, and every small detail he unfortunately missed before to make a clear profile.

Eric Adler—or Henry Wyatt as Garcia discovered through her meticulous sleuthing—was a master of disguise. He had concealed his identity under a different persona, changing his name the moment he packed his bags and left the town he grew up in. Oliver confirmed this discovery when Spencer visited the hospital the following day, once he had regained consciousness.

"Eric... he's a stranger to me," Oliver had said, his voice carrying a tinge of disbelief, a foreign look gleaming in his eyes. "Henry, on the other hand, was one of my closest friends."

"I'm assuming something happened for you to drift apart."

Oliver's gaze shifted. "We grew up in a very tight community. Religion was all we were taught," he began, his voice tinged with defiance and nostalgia. "I guess we became close from our rejection of those traditional values and practices."

Spencer acknowledged his words with a nod. "Your files showed there were a lot of crimes you committed in the past."

"I-I was very rebellious."

"I would say forcing yourself on a young, innocent girl was more than rebellious."

Oliver winced. "Listen, I'm not proud of my past," he confessed, his voice carrying a hint of regret. "But yes, my friends and I grew up doing things that were out of morals."

Spencer studied him. "What happened then?"

"A lot of pointing fingers," he admitted. "Our community leaders eventually found out and threatened us with severe punishment. From the outside, it was simply community service, but from the inside, it involved a lot of restraints and, well, whips."

Silence stretched between them. "It was how they punished the bad," Oliver explained further, his eyes searching Spencer's for comprehension. "They always say it whenever they were going to abuse us; 'The wicked will not go unpunished, but those who are righteous will go free.'"

"Proverbs 11:21," Spencer mumbled under his breath, recognizing the scriptural reference.

A hint of surprise flickered across Oliver's face. "Are you a religious person?"

He shook his head, implying a depth of knowledge that surpassed the boundaries of religious beliefs. "Was that what made you drift apart?"

"Partly, yes," Oliver answered with a sigh. "We didn't admit to it at first, but then under the pressure and the constant threat of punishment, I guess I became weak."

"Did you betray him?"

Oliver acknowledged the truth with a slow nod. "We were both punished, along with the others who were involved, but our leaders always wanted one name whom they could sacrifice, a name who held all responsibility. The initiator of all sins."

"So you put the blame on him," Spencer summarized, understanding the dynamics that had led to the fracture in their friendship.

"It was the only thing I thought of doing to save myself," he confessed. "He became a sacrifice. All the punishment turned onto him until he was cast out of the community. When his family didn't even try to interfere, he eventually left town. Never heard from him ever since."

"And then years later you saw him again."

His shoulders lifted in a nonchalant shrug.

"I didn't even recognize him at first. He had a different name, different hair, different style—he was practically a different person. When I realized who he actually was, I tried to confront him  but he never acknowledged me." He then looked away, the emotion in his gaze concealed. "I just thought he didn't want to be associated with the past anymore."

It explained everything. The revelation about Eric's past and the harsh punishments he had to endure shed light on the motivations behind his actions. It explained why he felt compelled to punish people, as it was the only method deeply ingrained in his brain.

Their shared upbringing, the weight of betrayal, and the scars of their past had shaped his sense of justice, leading him down a dark path of vengeance. And with that new knowledge in mind, Spencer passed on the information he had discovered when he came to work the next day.

Everyone was gathered by the round table, an unusual thing to happen given that they were typically scattered in their assigned tasks, but all of them were present for once. Morgan leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing in contemplation after Spencer finished his thoughts. "So let me get this straight, Eric's vendetta against Oliver is personal. Goes beyond just catching a killer then."

"It's a cycle of betrayal." JJ, standing by the door with crossed arms, agreed aloud. "He attempted to shift the blame onto Oliver, something he also went through in the past."

Spencer nodded as he started to pace around the room. "Psychologically speaking, his actions seem to be rooted in a need for retribution, a manifestation of the punitive measures ingrained in his upbringing."

"So we're dealing with a man who sees himself as a guardian angel dispensing justice, even if it means resorting to extreme measures."

"A guardian angel while simultaneously executing his revenge," Emily mused from the other side, her words laced with a blend of contemplation and concern. "Very personal indeed."

Hotch crossed his arms as he stood by the table, and scrutinized his team with his usual detached and professional expression, devoid of any visible emotions. "We need to understand his patterns," he began. "If we can predict his next move, we might be able to intercept him."

"He clearly has a deep affection towards Y/n." Morgan offered, prompting Spencer to halt his pacing and turn his attention toward him at the mention of her name. "He probably has a list of people who he thinks have hurt her in the past."

Rossi studied everyone in the room, attentively listening to their thoughts. He tapped his finger against the wooden table, directing his focus on Morgan. "We should find out who might be on that list. It could give us insight into his next move."

Hotch agreed with a curt nod. "Morgan, Rossi, work on compiling a list of individuals connected to Y/n. Garcia, cross-reference it with Eric's history. Let's see if we can predict his next move based on the people he might target."

Garcia instinctively rose from her chair and nodded. "Yes, sir," and waltzed out of the room with determined steps, making her way to her office.

The others shifted from their spots, while Morgan, unlike the rest, kept his gaze on Spencer. He observed the frown stretching across his face and pondered whether to voice what he had in mind. He hesitated, acknowledging that Spencer's involvement with their witness wasn't strictly his business. Yet, considering the recent events, he felt compelled to express his thoughts.

"I don't want to be that kind of person to bear bad news, but I think—I think—there's a high chance that pretty boy here could be a target," Morgan declared. Spencer quickly met his gaze.

Everyone else, momentarily suspended in a collective pause, turned their attention toward him. He could feel their penetrating gaze, which started to make him uncomfortable as the seconds ticked by. He didn't want to entertain that possibility, but it made sense. Considering Eric had been with her right after he had hurt her, he could very well be the next target.

JJ, breaking the silence, voiced what lingered in everyone's thoughts as she took a step closer to him. "We should keep you safe then. If you're a potential target, we can't afford to overlook any possibility."

Spencer glanced over at her, noting the concern in her eyes. He sensed a silent plea in the way she looked at him as if she were urging him to agree, to step back and act on what seemed to be the logical thing to do. However, despite that, the gears in his mind were turning. If he was a potential target, it could offer an easy opportunity to get closer to their Unsub.

"No," he said, a conviction in his voice. "You can use me as bait."

The room held its breath as his unexpected proposal hung in the air. The team, still processing the revelation of his potentially being a target, turned their focus to his daring suggestion.

JJ simply stared at him, dumbfounded by the audacity of the idea. "You're crazy."

"No, think about it." He turned towards Hotch, knowing the older man would at least consider his idea. "We can get to him by luring him in."

Hotch held his gaze. The weight of leadership rested on his shoulders as he considered the risky proposition. "Reid, it's too dangerous. We can't—"

"If Eric believes he has a score to settle with me, then let's use that to our advantage. We set up a controlled scenario, anticipate his moves, and ensure we have the upper hand."

Emily looked at him with worry, taking a step forward from the other side of the room. "Reid, it's too risky. We don't know how he'll react, we can't even guarantee your safety."

"Yes, you can. You'll keep an eye on me." His eyes traveled around the room, meeting each one of their concerned gaze. "It's not something we haven't done before; we've used this method to lure an Unsub, and right now, we have no clue where he is. The only way we can draw his attention is by using me."

Hotch's gaze shifted between Spencer and the rest of the team, weighing the potential outcomes of such a high-stakes plan. It was undeniably risky, but Spencer was right. This wouldn't be their first time baiting an Unsub, and given their past success, a part of him believed the outcome would work out according to plan.

After a moment, he slowly nodded. "Alright, but if we proceed with this, we have to ensure everyone's safety." He gave Spencer a pointed look. "Especially yours, Reid."

He quickly nodded as a moment of understanding passed between them. The room suddenly filled with noise, and amidst the bustling movements, he felt a desperate grip on his arm, pulling him away from the group.

"Spence." JJ's grip tightened as she voiced her concern. "You could be putting yourself in danger. What if this goes wrong?"

That was the thing. It was the nature of their job—there would always be different outcomes. There was no certainty about what could transpire. But with nothing else to do, Spencer was growing desperate for more answers, so he held her gaze, determination etched in his eyes.

"If it means stopping him and knowing her whereabouts, I'm willing to take any risk."

It was raining when it happened. It had been pouring for the past few days as they started to plan the operation. The team decided to elevate the stakes by choosing his apartment as the bait location, aiming to create a scenario that would be emotionally charged for Eric, potentially triggering a faster and more decisive response.

They studied Eric's patterns and behaviors, gathering insights into his actions and motivations. Garcia, constantly stationed at her desk, continued to monitor social media, public records, and any other available data to gauge Eric's movements. She had identified potential triggers that might prompt Eric to act, such as media coverage or public discussions related to Y/n.

In addition to electronic surveillance, Morgan and JJ conducted physical surveillance on locations connected to Y/n's past, anticipating that Eric might revisit places with emotional significance. They strategically placed themselves in key positions, ready to observe and intercept any suspicious activity.

And then the clock ticked away, the minutes stretched into an agonizing waiting game, every second pregnant with anticipation. 

Until it finally came to that night.

Everything felt strange. His apartment. The weather. Himself. The rain outside continued its steady rhythm, and Spencer watched the raindrops hit his windowpanes from his couch.

Weeks ago, he sat in the same place where he was now. The only difference was that he was alone. There was no faint smell of chocolate or the sweet melody of laughter. She wasn't here, gracing him with her smile as she nestled on his lap. Her whispers of his name were absent, and the cruel thing was, he didn't even know where she was now. 

He had never felt so much pain before, the ache of not knowing where someone was, all the while having to keep his head up high. It was a facade he learned to put on. Pretending that the hidden cameras strategically placed in his apartment didn't unsettle him, or the discreetly wired microphone, or the inconspicuous headpiece nestled in his ear. He had to act as though the looming potential danger didn't faze him.

But then it finally happened, a sudden shift in the atmosphere permeated the air—like the calm before the storm. And in an instant, Garcia's voice crackled over the communication devices, urgency lacing her words. "I've got movement. Eric's online activity just spiked."

Morgan and Prentiss, stationed discreetly around the apartment complex, receiving the signal, tightened their surveillance. The external cameras around his building captured a figure approaching, shrouded in the shadows of the rainy night. 

Within the confines of his home, his senses heightened. The rain outside intensified. A streak of lighting flashed through the window. A loud sound of thunder echoed in the background. Spencer waited with bated breath, his gaze fixated on the front door. Then, with a creak, it slowly swung open, revealing a silhouette of a figure in the doorway.

Water dripped from his clothes, leaving a trail of wetness as he crossed the threshold. Their eyes briefly locked, and a smile played on Eric's lips as he observed the way Spencer scrutinized him, closing the door behind him.

"Dr. Reid," his sinister tone sliced through the silence, his words dripping with a twisted sense of satisfaction. "I see you've been waiting for me."

Spencer watched him, maintaining a composed exterior despite the tension in the air, and met his gaze with a steely resolve. "And I see you've been busy."

Eric cocked an eyebrow.

"Carving your path of justice one victim at a time."

His expression remained unyielding. Stepping further into the room, Eric left a trail of dirty shoe marks on the floor as his eyes observed the dimly lit apartment. "I'm just doing what needs to be done."

Spencer slowly rose from his seat. "And what is that?"

"Punishing those who have wronged her."

"You're not her savior. You're a vigilante with a distorted sense of righteousness."

"And that's where you're wrong. You don't know the pain she's been through. I'm the only one who can protect her."

Spencer silently watched as he continued to survey his apartment. Eric's eyes swept through all the framed certificates on his wall, his finger delicately tracing the edge of each frame. When he was met with silence, Eric turned back to him, narrowing the distance between them.

"You were always the one she trusted, weren't you?" He shook his head with disdain. "Yet you're the one who hurt her the most."

Aware that each word could either defuse or escalate the situation, Spencer continued to engage him. "I haven't hurt her," he responded carefully. "I've been trying to protect her from someone like you, someone who's lost sight of justice."

Eric let out a scoff. "You think I've lost sight? No, Dr. Reid, I've found clarity. I've seen the darkness that lurks in the hearts of those who pretend to be righteous."

"Your version of justice is a perversion. You've become the monster you claim to fight against."

The room crackled with tension as they held each other's gaze. "Do you even listen to yourself?" Eric retorted, his eyes narrowing with accusation. "You claim to protect her, yet she's left alone in the darkness you couldn't save her from."

The air in the room seemed to thicken as the weight of his words hung between them. His heart quickened its pace while he tried to maintain a calm facade. "Where is she?"

Eric's laughter cut through the air. "You think I'll tell you voluntarily?"

Spencer's gaze remained steady on him. "What do you want?"

The sinister grin on Eric's face revealed a gambit. "You." He took another step closer. "Come with me and I'll take you to her..."

There was definitely a but. It was never that easy, and the way he trailed off his words prompted Spencer to ask, "On what condition?"

He smiled, eyes narrowing as he conveyed a sense of menace while he delivered his proposition.

"Cut off all communication with your team."

Tension lingered around the room like an invisible web, each word contributing to the growing stakes. Eric's laughter, a haunting sound, followed the slightly alarmed look on Spencer's face. 

"You think I didn't know?" he taunted. "Two of your agents are outside this building, and come on, you could've hidden that earpiece better than that." He pointed towards the device. "Your hair might be long, but it's not that long."

Eric then picked up a framed picture sitting on his shelf. It was a photo of him and his team casually smiling to the camera. He remembered that day, it was one of the many times they visited Rossi's house for dinner, and Garcia decided it was the perfect time to capture the moment. To preserve the happy times, she had said, and true to her words, he was happy that day.

His mind suddenly raced, considering the options and potential consequences of complying with his demand. He finally responded. "What if I refuse?"

"Then you'll never find her," Eric retorted, looking back at him. "It's a simple choice. Sacrifice your precious communication or lose her forever."

He wanted him to step into his trap willingly. It was a cruel choice, and it seemed he wasn't the only one who agreed. As Eric's demand hung in the air, the team's voices crackled urgently through his earpiece. Panic and concern infused their words as they frantically implored him to reconsider.

"Spence, step back!"

"Reid, don't do it."

"Stand down, Reid. We're coming through."

The chorus of concerned voices reverberated in his earpiece, each team member contributing to their worry. Despite the chaos of emotions echoing through the line, Spencer remained outwardly composed, his mind working swiftly to navigate the dangerous situation.

"Don't—" he urged, his gaze piercing on Eric while his voice pointed towards his team. "Stay where you are."

Eric watched him with a predatory gleam in his eyes.

"Seems like your team is in quite a frenzy there. Are you really willing to risk her safety for their voices in your ear?" He continued with a sinister grin, reveling the chaos he had stirred. "Strip away your lifeline, Spencer. The battle is between you and me."

Spencer stood there, calculating his next move. He weighed the possible outcomes of his choices and realized that nothing good would come from either of them. Eric, observing his contemplation, smirked with a twisted satisfaction.

"Come on, Dr. Reid, time is ticking." He tapped the watch around his wrist. "Make up your mind."

Spencer inhaled a sharp breath. Eric was right, there was no time to waste. The more he contemplated his answer, the more danger she was in. He needed her safe. He needed to see her. He needed to know where she was. And there was only one way to find out.

At the other end of the line, Garcia, stationed at her desk, watched Spencer through the screen with a growing sense of urgency. His gaze slowly swept over the room, and she could sense the critical decision looming. Her heart raced as his eyes fell on one of the hidden cameras.

"He's onto us," she muttered to herself, her fingers flying over the keyboard. She tried to maintain the connection as he walked over to the device and unplugged it.

Garcia cursed under her breath. "No—" She pressed on her intercom, her voice tinged with frustration. "I'm losing him."

One by one, the video feeds from the hidden cameras in his apartment turned black. The loss of visual contact with each camera felt like a punch to the gut. Her frustration mounted as the screens blinked out, leaving her staring at a grid of darkness.

"No, no, no," she muttered, fingers dancing over the keyboard in a desperate attempt to reestablish connection. But there was nothing else she could do.

The earpieces crackled with an ominous quiet before a sudden crash echoed through, the sharp sound of impact reverberating. A groan. A thud. A grunt. The team exchanged alarmed glances in their respective locations as the audio crackled with static, and their heart raced at the uncertainty hanging in the air.

Then, abruptly, there was nothing else but silence.

>> NEXT PART

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[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

When The World Is Crashing Down

Series Summary: Your family is House Celtigar, one of Rhaenyra’s wealthiest allies. In the aftermath of Rook’s Rest, Aemond unknowingly conscripts you to save his brother’s life. Now you are in the lair of the enemy, but your loyalties are quickly shifting…

Chapter 1: Am I More Than You Bargained For Yet

Chapter 2: Choose Love Or Sympathy

Chapter 3: We Drown Traitors In Shallow Water

Chapter 4: These Words Are All I Have So I’ll Write Them

Chapter 5: Turn Off The Lights And Turn Off The Shyness

Chapter 6: I Am Missing You To Death

Chapter 7: Keep Quiet, Nothing Comes As Easy As You

Chapter 8: I Just Need A Stronger Dose

Chapter 9: We’re Friends When You’re On Your Knees

Chapter 10: Blame Everyone But Me For This Mess

Chapter 11: I Know This Hurts, It Was Meant To

Chapter 12: And I'm Just The Boy Who's Had Too Many Chances

Chapter 13: Condemned From The Start

💜 All of my writing can be found HERE! 💜

[southtopaz]

PSYCHO KILLER - SCREAM

Summary: in which Iris Morris has to navigate her personal relationships while surviving a psycho.

Warnings: Fem!reader, angst, mention of blood, violence, swearing, mention of death, Tara Carpenter x Fem reader, multiple parts.

Word count: +6k

A/n: this part will follow the events of Scream 6 but it will take place two years later from Scream 5. English is not my first language, so I apologize for any grammatical mistake.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4,Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16

That night, the air in Sam, Tara, and Iris's apartment was thick with tension as they settled in together. They had all agreed to stay in their apartment and spend the night together under the guise of safety in numbers, but Iris couldn't shake the feeling that it was also a way to keep tabs on one another. Trust felt fragile, and she found herself scanning the room for suspects.

In the kitchen, the atmosphere shifted to a quieter, more intimate space. Iris and Tara stood side by side, chopping vegetables and stirring pots, their movements synchronized. The silence between them was comfortable yet charged.

"Wanna try this?" Iris asked playfully, dipping a spoon into the simmering sauce and holding it out towards Tara. Their eyes locked as Tara leaned in, accepting the offering. The moment lingered, until Tara finally looked away, her cheeks flushed.

"It's good," Tara said softly. Iris smiled, that small, genuine smile that made Tara's stomach flutter.

"I think you should get out of the city," Tara suggested, her brow furrowing in concern.

"Already tired of me?" Iris teased, but her heart sank at the thought.

"I would never get tired of you," Tara muttered. "It's just... after everything that happened last time, I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to go."

Iris paused, the weight of Tara's words settling in. "Look, Tara, do you want me gone?"

The question hung in the air like a challenge, and Tara's eyes widened. "Iris..."

"Do you want me to stay away from you?" Iris stepped closer, invading the space between them.

"No, of course not! But I just want you safe," Tara replied, her voice trembling slightly.

"Well, I want you safe too and I want to be right beside you."

Tara's expression shifted, a mix of fear and urgency. "There's someone trying to kill us,"

"I don't care," Iris shook her head. "You have to be insane if you think anything could pull me away from you."

"You can't say things like that,"

"Why not?"

Tara took a step back, breaking the charged space between them. "You know why," she said, her voice trembling as she turned to face the countertop, her back to Iris.

"What...?"" Iris pressed, feeling the ache of uncertainty.

"Would you two just make out already!" Mindy shouted, exasperation evident in her voice.

"The fuck, Mindy?" Iris replied, her cheeks flushing as she glanced at Tara, who looked equally flustered.

Mindy strode into the kitchen, her energy filling the space. "Seriously, just get over it!" Tara, trying to diffuse the tension, said, "I have to talk to Sam. Be right back," before she patted Iris's arm affectionately. Iris watched Tara leave, a longing ache settling in her chest.

"What was that all about?" Mindy pressed, her eyes narrowing on Iris.

"What?" Iris asked, trying to focus on pouring the sauce into the pan, as if that could distract her from the heat in her cheeks.

"You know, that whole Romeo and Juliet shit I just witnessed," Mindy raised an eyebrow.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Iris insisted, her voice slightly higher than usual.

Mindy groaned, frustration bubbling to the surface. After ensuring they were alone, she reached over and turned off the stove, prompting Iris to protest.

"Hey! I was cooking!"

"Don't care. We need an intervention here. You're really pissing me off," Mindy shot back, her voice firm.

"I didn't do anything! What the—" Iris began, but Mindy cut her off.

"Iris, I've been holding back on this because I hoped you'd figure it out yourself, but since apparently you have absolutely no brain cells in that pretty head of yours, it's time someone tells you the truth."

"Tell me what?"

"You like her. You like Tara," Mindy stated bluntly.

"What? No, I don't!" Iris stammered, embarrassment washing over her.

"For the past two years, I've seen you look at her like she's everything you've ever wanted," Mindy continued, her tone shifting to one of sincerity. "You literally have heart eyes when you talk to her."

"I don't like her like that! Absolutely not! What the hell?"

Mindy rolled her eyes, clearly frustrated with her friend's denial. "You hate dancing, yet you danced with her the other day. You hate horror movies, but you watch one with her every Friday night just because it's Tara's favorite thing. You hold her hand whenever you get the chance, and you remember every little detail about her. You might think nobody notices, but I see how you can't tear your gaze away from her when she isn't looking."

Mindy stepped closer, her grip firm on Iris's shoulders as if to ground her in reality. "She's the only one who brings a genuine smile to your face. You get all giddy and blushy when she pays attention to you, and let's not even talk about the jealousy when someone else tries to get close to her."

"So yeah, you don't just like her; you're in love with her," Mindy concluded, her voice softening.

"What?! I'm not! I..." Iris protested, her heart racing at the accusation.

"And honestly, it's getting embarrassing at this point. We're all waiting for one of you to make a move, but you're both acting like complete idiots" Mindy added, crossing her arms defiantly.

"Wait, both of us?" Iris asked, realization dawning on her.

"Iris, you're so oblivious. That poor girl could tell you she loves you and wants to marry you, and you'd still think she means it platonically," Mindy said, shaking her head in disbelief at her friend's stupidity "Tara has literally been waiting for you to do something for years. The fact that she's still waiting just shows how much she wants you,".

"You think she likes me? There's no way," Iris said, her disbelief palpable.

"Dude, why do you think I gave you the idea to write that letter to express your feelings?" Mindy asked, her tone serious. "Because I knew it was the only way you'd actually make a move, and she was obviously going to say yes, I wasn't going to set you up for failure"

"You don't know that," Iris replied, her voice tinged with doubt.

"Then why do you think Amber took that letter away and sent that text to separate you two? She knew that if Tara had gotten that letter, you would've never dated her. It was the only way she had to make you notice her".

"And look I'm not saying you didn't love Amber because unfortunately I know you did but you never unfell for Tara and now you finally have a chance to do something". Mindy urged, her expression softening. "I know a part of you is still afraid, but this is Tara we're talking about. The girl you spent most of your childhood being in love with, and she is also the one that spent all of that time loving you back. So could you please, for the love of God, do something about it? I just want you to be happy, and, okay, I may also want to win the bet Sam and I have going on."

"You guys have a fucking bet?" Iris asked, eyes wide with surprise.

"Can't tell you," Mindy replied, a teasing smile playing on her lips.

"You just did," Iris shot back, crossing her arms.

"Did I?"

"I can't believe you guys have a bet, people are dying out here," Iris said, half-laughing, half-exasperated.

"Still not an excuse for being a pussy" Mindy countered, giving Iris a light shove. "Make me proud, bestie. She's on the terrace."

With each step toward the terrace, Iris's heart raced. The conversation with Mindy echoed in her mind, pushing her forward. Iris felt a whirlwind of emotions stirring inside her, a mix of nervousness and disbelief that left her momentarily breathless. She had long acknowledged her feelings for Tara, yet the thought that Tara might share those feelings was something she never dared to entertain, but now that very possibility was all she could think about.

"Hey," she finally managed to say, her voice almost a whisper.

Tara jumped, placing a hand over her chest, her eyes wide with surprise. "Jesus, you scared me!"

Iris laughed softly. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to." She took a step closer, her pulse quickening with each moment spent in Tara's presence. "I came to let you know that food will be ready in a little bit."

Tara smiled, a hint of curiosity in her gaze. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, why?" Iris tried to sound casual, but her mouth betrayed her.

"You just look a little... weird, that's all."

"You calling me ugly?" Iris teased, the playful banter a welcome distraction.

"Never! You could never be ugly, believe me," Tara replied, patting Iris's arm affectionately. Before Iris could think better of it; she caught Tara's hand in hers, intertwining their fingers with a tenderness that sent a jolt of warmth through her.

"Your fingers are cold," Iris noted, suddenly aware of a slight tremor running through Tara's form. "Are you cold?"

"Mm, yeah," Tara whispered, her cheeks flushed with something more than just the chill in the air.

Without thinking, Iris pulled her closer, wrapping her arms around her in a warm embrace. "Is this okay?" she asked softly.

"Definitely," Tara replied, her voice muffled against Iris's shoulder. They held each other for what felt like an eternity, and Iris couldn't resist the urge to gaze at Tara. She ran her fingers through Tara's hair, tracing the gentle arch of her cheekbones, her eyes staring at the constellation of freckles that danced across her nose.

"Is there something on my face?" Tara asked suddenly, her voice teasing yet curious.

"No, why?" Iris replied, caught off guard.

"I can see you looking at me," a nervous smile blooming on her lips.

"Sorry," Iris whispered, feeling a blush creep into her cheeks. She tried to pull away, but Tara tightened her grip, refusing to let her go.

"Don't be sorry. Just... stay."

"Maybe I just like looking at you," Iris admitted, the words spilling out before she could think better of it.

Tara inhaled sharply, her expression shifting as if she were contemplating something significant. Then, she gently cupped Iris's face, drawing her attention back to her. "You like looking at me?"

"Yeah," Iris said, her heart racing. "I can't help it. You're just so..." She wrapped her arms around Tara's waist, pulling her even closer.

"So?" Tara prompted, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"Beautiful." A deep blush spread across Tara's cheeks, illuminating her features in the middle of the night. Iris was mesmerized, her gaze locked onto Tara's captivating eyes, losing herself in their depths.

"Honestly? I think it's time I admitted I like looking at you too," Tara confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah?" Iris breathed, a smile forming on her lips.

"I've liked looking at you ever since we were six, so... yeah." The space between them shrank to nothing; they could hear each other's breaths, feel the warmth radiating from their bodies. Iris was acutely aware of how fast her heart was pounding, wondering if maybe Tara could hear it too.

"Tara, I..."

But before Iris could finish her thought, a loud voice broke the moment. "HEY YOU TWO, FOOD IS READY!" Chad's call echoed up the stairs, shattering the delicate bubble they had created.

"You've got to be kidding me," Tara sighed, resting her forehead against Iris's, her breath mingling with Iris's in a way that felt almost sacred. Iris couldn't help but chuckle softly, feeling both amused and a little deflated.

"Come on, I'm hungry!" Tara finally disentangled herself from Iris but not before leaning in to plant a quick, lingering kiss on Iris's cheek. The gesture sent a jolt of warmth through the girl, leaving her momentarily frozen in place, her heart fluttering wildly.

"Let's go," Tara said, reaching for Iris's hand, their fingers still intertwined as they made their way downstairs.

In the kitchen, the atmosphere buzzed with the chatter of their friends, Mindy, Chad, and Sam all standing around the table. The three of them noticed their hands together but chose to let it slide without comment, a knowing smile exchanged among them. Iris stood beside Mindy leaning against the countertop, while Tara settled in beside her sister, but not before punching Chad in the arm as she passed.

"Hey, the fuck?" Chad exclaimed, feigning hurt, but Tara just rolled her eyes and ignored him.

"The others?" Iris asked, looking around.

"Quinn's in her room with some boy, and Anika's watching TV," Mindy replied, a hint of amusement in her voice.

"I already left some blankets on the sofa for

you all," Sam said, her voice filled with exhaustion as she reached for a bottle of wine. The strain of the last few days hung heavily on her shoulders, evident in the way her brow furrowed and her movements felt a bit slower.

"We don't have to stay here, you know," Mindy said, trying to keep the mood light, though a hint of worry crept into her voice.

"Well, too bad. I insist. Safety in numbers" Sam replied, her tone leaving little room for argument.

"This'll be so fun!" Chad interjected, a grin spreading across his face. "A little slumber party with the core five!"

"Core five?" Sam asked, her confusion evident as she raised an eyebrow.

"Did you just give us a nickname?" Tara teased, leaning back against the wall with her arms crossed, clearly amused.

"I sure did!" Chad exclaimed, his chest puffed out with pride. "I mean, we've been through a lot together. It's a pretty cool nickname!"

"That's debatable," Sam shot back, a smirk forming as she rolled her eyes.

"Extremely debatable" Tara chimed in.

"C'mon, you bunch of haters! The nickname fucking rocks". Iris laughed, clearly enjoying the playful banter. "Give me five, bro". Chad happily did so.

"You can't just give yourself a nickname, dingus," Mindy protested, shaking her head but unable to hide her smile.

"Of course I can, dingus, because I just did!" Chad insisted, raising his hand expectantly, waiting for everyone to join in. "Core five, up top!"

"Nah," Mindy replied, playfully waving her hand away.

"Get that away from me," Tara said with mock disdain, shaking her head as if Chad had offered her something distasteful.

"Iris, Sam, don't fail me now!" Chad pleaded, eyes wide with faux desperation.

"Come on, Sam, look at his face! How can you say no?" Iris pinched Chad's cheeks, trying to emphasize his supposed cuteness.

"I would like a little more respect and support from my fellow members of the Core Five," Chad huffed dramatically, crossing his arms while pretending to sulk.

Just then, they heard Anika's voice echoing from the hallway. "Guys, what the hell?" she called out, her tone sharp and urgent. The group exchanged quick, concerned glances and without a second thought, they all turned and rushed toward the living room.

"We're hearing from sources inside the homicide division that the prime suspect is none other than Samantha Carpenter, one of the survivors of the Woodsboro killing in 2022, seen here attacking a woman on the street last night."

Sam was quick to mute the television, the noise suddenly feeling overwhelming, and rushed out of the living room, seeking refuge in the kitchen. The other four exchanged worried glances before following her, signaling to Anika to stay put. They couldn't believe that some people would even think Sam was capable of doing something so terrible. The world could be cruel, and right now, Sam was suffering under its weight.

"I know it's tough, but don't listen to those people, Sam. They know nothing". Iris said as she settled down next to her, concern etched on her face. Tara nodded in agreement, moving closer to offer support.

"I know you're not a fan of how I've been handling things, and I get that I've given you a hard time," Tara said, taking Sam's hand in hers. "But I can say that none of us can relate to what you are experiencing." Sam turned to her sister, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

"And I'm really sorry that you have to do that alone," Tara continued softly.

"It's not your fault," Sam replied, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "I know I shouldn't care about what people think, but it just sucks being this hated." Her voice cracked slightly, revealing the vulnerability she was trying to hide.

Iris quickly handed her a napkin to wipe her tears, and Sam offered a grateful smile. "We will always be here for you, Sam," Iris reassured her, her tone warm and steady.

Just then, Chad and Mindy entered the room, their presence a welcome distraction. "Hey, just a reminder," Chad said, his voice firm yet comforting. "Not a single person in this room hates you, okay? We've all been through some fucked up stuff, and we're coping with it differently. But we moved here together for one very specific reason."

"We are a team," he finished, his words hanging in the air like a promise.

"Gosh, since when are you so wise?" Iris laughed through her tears, the tension in the room easing as everyone shared a soft chuckle.

Sam felt warmth spread through her as she looked at her friends, grateful for their unwavering support. "You guys really mean a lot to me,".

"We are the core five," Mindy declared dramatically, as if it were a big revelation.

"Thank you very much," Chad responded, grinning widely.

"I hate myself," Mindy joked, and without missing a beat, she high-fived Chad.

"Say it, guys, c'mon!" Iris urged, her finger pointing between Sam and Tara with an infectious enthusiasm.

"I mean, yes, we are a team, but..." Tara began, laughter bubbling up as they all joined in, the heaviness of the moment lifting, if only for a little while.

"I've been sleeping with cute boy from across the hall," Sam announced, her cheeks flushing a light pink.

"Boom!" Mindy shouted, her excitement reverberating through the small apartment.

"I fucking knew it!" Tara exclaimed, clapping her hands in delight.

"Finally, a hot guy, Sam! I'm so proud of you!" Iris chimed in, her voice filled with amusement but happiness for her friend.

"I mean, I totally knew it from the day you had that hickey!" Mindy joked, her laughter contagious and filling the room. The others burst into giggles, recalling the embarrassing moment.

Chad, sitting off to the side with a playful grin, leaned forward and said, "Does somebody else want to confess something?" He cast a teasing glance at Tara, clearly remembering the hand holding his two friends did.

"Don't look at me, you weirdo! I have nothing to say," Tara replied, feigning innocence while crossing her arms defiantly.

"Nothing?" Mindy asked in despair as she stared pointedly at Iris. "Jesus, this will never end!"

Tara quickly tried to redirect the conversation. "I feel like we should high-five or something,"

"Hell yeah, Core Five motherfuckers". Iris said enthusiastically, raising her hand in the air. The others quickly followed suit, each of them joining in for the playful moment.

Just then, Sam's phone began to ring loudly, cutting through their laughter. Tara's eyes lit up as she recognized the caller ID. "Look who it is!" she exclaimed, snatching the phone away and displaying it to everyone.

With a mischievous smile, she passed the phone to Mindy. They all erupted into laughter, pretending to answer it with exaggerated voices, playfully interrogating Danny about his intentions. Sam, still blushing, finally managed to get a word in, saying she would call him back later.

The mood took a sudden turn when strange noises started coming from upstairs. It was impossible to confuse the unmistakable sounds of moans.

"Quinn and her gentleman caller are back at it again," Tara remarked, rolling her eyes in disbelief.

"I swear to God, it's like she doesn't know how to be quiet!" Iris added, shaking her head with an amused grin.

Before they could continue their

conversation, a sudden chorus of phone notifications broke the moment, startling them all into silence. Iris felt her heart race as she glanced at the screen. A chilling image flickered before her eyes: Ghostface, looming menacingly over Quinn, a knife poised dangerously close to her throat. Time seemed to freeze as the reality of the situation sank in, and a sense of dread filled the room.

"What the hell?" Iris whispered in horror. Quinn's desperate shout for help echoed in their house, and instinct took over. They all sprang into action. Tara dashed toward Quinn's room, but Iris caught her arm just in time, her grip firm and unyielding.

"Stay here," she told her urgently, her eyes wide with fear.

"Chad, get ready," Iris’s voice was low but commanding as she pushed Tara toward him. He nodded, understanding what his friend meant.

The five of them, alongside Anika, stood tense and anxious, their breaths shallow as they faced the door. The sounds of chaos poured out from within: furniture crashing, muffled shouts, and a struggle that sent chills down their spines. Then, suddenly, the screams stopped and a horrible silence enveloped them.

"Run," Mindy hissed, her voice sharp with urgency. Just as the words left her mouth, the bedroom door burst open with a violent

force.

Ghostface emerged, a terrifying silhouette against the dim light of the hallway. With a swift, brutal motion, he hurled Quinn's limp body towards them. The thud of her landing was sickening, and Anika's scream pierced the air as Quinn crumpled on top of her.

Iris reacted instinctively, yanking Quinn's bloodied body away from Anika, panic and horror coursing through her veins. "No!

Quinn!" she cried, desperation clawing at her throat.

"We need to go!" Tara yelled, urgency in her voice. Chad clutched her arm, and they bolted for the door, believing their friends were right on their heels.

Suddenly, the air thickened with tension as Ghostface fixed his gaze on them, waiting to see who would make the first move. But there was no time to strategize; he surged forward, targeting Iris with deadly intent as he swiped his knife at her. She dodged every strike as quickly as she could, but eventually he sank his knife into her arm, causing her to scream in pain.

"Fuck you" She yelled and kicked the attacker hard in the crotch, sending him reeling back for a brief second that allowed her to stand up. When he got to his feet again, he turned and punched her in the stomach. Iris pushed away from the blow in time to see Ghostface lower his knife and impale it in the wall where her head had been.

Iris grabbed the back of his head, slamming it against the wall before delivering a kick to his legs. He turned around and strongly pushed her to the floor, ready to attack her once again.

Mindy rushed at him, determined to pull him away from Iris, but as they hit the floor, he simply shoved her aside and stabbed her in the upper arm, causing blood to flow everywhere.

Anika, still on the ground, grasped his ankles, trying to trip him and free Mindy. Ghostface quickly climbed over Anika, and he started to choke her before he lifted her up and slammed her into the fireplace as he sank his knife into her abdomen, slowly dragging it upwards, causing the woman to scream in agony.

Iris quickly sprang to her feet, grabbed a lamp close to the coffee table, and smashed it into Ghostface's head. He staggered and lost his grip on Anika as a result, while Mindy hurried to her girlfriend.

Sam entered just in time, slamming an empty knife block into Ghostface's head as she angrily punched him with it a couple of times.

"Come on!" Yelled Sam.

Despite the pain in her arm, Iris went over to Anika, threw an arm around her waist, and ran towards the nearest room, which happened to be Quinn's. She could feel Sam and Mindy approaching from behind, and they hurried into the room, locking the door as fast as they could.

"Fuck" Mindy sat in the bed and groaned as she put pressure in her arm, blood pouring out of it. Anika was sitting next to her groaning in pain while she held her stomach, they all tried to ignore the amount of blood she was losing.

"Hey, look at me," Iris said urgently, grasping both of Anika's cheeks with her hands to force her to focus. Anika's eyes fluttered, the effort to stay awake written all over her face. Iris could feel a wave of panic rising within her, but she fought it down. "Everything is going to be fine. I need you to stay awake, okay? Just look at me."

Anika blinked slowly, her gaze wavering as she tried to hold on to Iris's reassuring presence. In the background, they could hear Ghostaface grunting and pushing against the door, the sound echoing in the tense silence. Then, suddenly, he stopped, and the air grew heavier with uncertainty.

"Bathroom door, hurry," Sam whispered, fear lacing her voice as she looked at Iris with wide, frantic eyes.

Without hesitating, Iris nodded and darted toward the bathroom, her heart racing. She tried to ignore all the mess, the walls were smeared with remnants of blood and the floor didn't look much better.

As she reached the bathroom, the sight that met her made her stomach drop as she saw one of Quinn's hookups lying in his own pool of blood in the tub.

"Fuck, he is dead" Iris shouted as she reached the door, just as Ghostface barreled into view. She instinctively tried to slam it shut, but he forced his body against it, pushing his way through with surprising strength.

"Sam Help!" Iris yelled, her heart racing as she struggled to keep the door closed. Ghostface managed to thrust his arm inside, swiping his knife blindly as he tried to attack her.

Sam sprang into action, rushing to Iris's side. Together, they pushed against the door, straining to keep him at bay. With a final shove, they managed to block Ghostface's arm and wrestle the door closed. They quickly turned the lock, their breaths coming fast as they heard him pounding on the other side.

"We need to barricade it," Iris said, glancing at the dresser nearby.

Without a moment's hesitation, the girls shoved the dresser in front of the door. It scraped loudly against the floor, but they didn't stop until it was firmly in place, creating a barrier between them and the frantic pounding outside.

Panting, they leaned against the dresser for a moment, the adrenaline still coursing through their veins. "What do we do now?" Sam asked, her eyes wide with fear.

Iris took a deep breath, scanning the room for anything they could use. "We need to find a way out. We can't let him get in."

"Mindy, keep Anika awake!" Iris instructed, her voice urgent as she saw the girl on the verge of passing out. Mindy nodded, quickly grabbing a shirt from the floor. She pressed it against Anika's stomach, applying gentle pressure while trying to soothe her.

"Just focus on me, okay love? Keep your eyes open," Mindy said softly, her voice steady despite the horror surrounding them.

Suddenly, Iris spotted a familiar figure outside the window. "Is that Danny?" she asked, her heart racing with a mix of relief and anxiety. She glanced at Sam, who was already nodding as she continued pushing the dresser.

"Go! We've got this!" Mindy urged, stepping away from Anika momentarily to help Iris brace the door. They pushed against it with all their strength, feeling the pressure of the pounding on the other side.

"We are going to die" Mindy whispered, her voice trembling as the weight of the situation settled in.

"Don't fucking say that! You hear me?" Iris snapped. "Anika doesn't need to hear that right now." She turned back to Anika, her heart aching at the sight of her friend's pain-stricken face.

"Ani, you okay?" Iris shouted, forcing herself to remain calm. Anika nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks, though her expression was twisted in pain.

"Everything is going to be fine," Iris said, the words feeling heavy in her throat. She wasn't sure if she believed them, but she needed Anika to hold on.

Ghostface continued to bang violently on the door, each impact sending tremors through the walls as Danny handed a ladder over to Sam. She reached out to grab it, her fingers brushing against the cold metal just as another thunderous slam echoed through the room.

"Get ready!" Danny shouted, his voice strained as he positioned himself in the window to help.

Ghostface slammed into the door again, causing the dresser to shift slightly. Iris and Mindy pressed their backs against it, straining to gain better footing. Iris could feel the panic rising within her, but she refused to let it show. "Guys hurry" she yelled, her voice trembling.

"Only one of you will be able to cross at a time!" Danny shouted from the other side. "Come on!"

"C'mon, guys!" Sam urged, turning to face her friends.

"No way, you guys first!" Iris replied firmly, her resolve unshakeable as she pushed against the dresser, feeling it slide slightly under the pressure. "You go, Sam. You have to."

"Mindy!" Sam glanced at her, desperation flooding her voice.

"Go," Mindy said, determination hardening her features. "We'll hold the door. We'll be fine. We send Anika later" She exchanged a quick, reassuring glance with Iris, who nodded, feeling a surge of confidence from her friend.

Sam took a deep breath, her expression conflicted, but she knew there was no time to waste. "Okay," she finally said, her voice steadier. She carefully maneuvered her way to the window, the ladder swaying slightly beneath her.

“Cmon baby, You've got this!" he encouraged her, his eyes locked on her as she began to cross the ladder.

"I'm okay! Just hold on!" Sam shouted back, glancing over her shoulder to see Iris and Mindy bracing themselves against the dresser.

Once she reached the other side, she shouted, "Come on! Next person!"

The sound of Ghostface's relentless banging reverberated through the room, and Iris felt a rush of fear at the thought of losing her friends.

"Iris, it's your turn," Mindy urged, glancing over her shoulder.

"Fuck no, you go. I'll stay," Iris insisted, struggling against the dresser as Ghostface pressed closer.

Mindy helped Anika get toward the window. "You have to go first," she insisted.

"I can't," Anika whispered, panic rising in her voice.

"You have to please"

"Mindy, please," Anika begged, her eyes wide with fear. Mindy sighed, leaning in for one last kiss.

"I love you, okay?" she said softly, then made her way to the ladder, disappearing into the night.

"Now you, Anika, come on!" Iris called, moving to the window to help.

"I can't," Anika cried, shaking her head desperately.

"You have to! Please, I need to hold the door!".

"You go, Iris, please," Anika urged, her voice trembling.

"Anika, look at me," Iris said firmly, gripping her friend's face. "You are here because of me, because you're my friend and now he did this to you"

"It's not your fault," Anika replied, shaking her head, desperation filling her eyes.

"Yes, it is," Iris insisted, her voice steady despite the fear swirling around them. "I need you to get onto that ladder, okay? I can't let you die on me. I'll hold him off."

Anika's heart sank as she realized Iris had already made her decision. There was no changing her mind. With a heavy sigh, she nodded, determination replacing her fear as she stepped toward the window.

Iris moved to the door, her body tense as she braced herself against it. "Just go!" she shouted, her voice filled with urgency. Anika climbed onto the ladder, her hands trembling as she reached for the rungs.

As she moved, Anika felt the warmth of blood seeping through her clothes, each drop a reminder of the danger they were facing. Her strength waned with every movement, her bones feeling heavier, her vision dimming. Panic bubbled beneath the surface as she glanced back, seeing Iris struggling to keep the door shut against Ghostface's pounding.

"Come on, Anika! You can do this!" Iris shouted, her eyes fierce with fear. "Just a little further!"

Anika pushed herself to keep climbing, her heart racing. "Iris!" she called out, but the sound felt distant as her world began to blur.

Then, through the haze, she spotted Danny, his hands reaching for her from the other side of the window. Relief washed over her as she felt herself being pulled into the safety of his apartment. Just as she crossed the threshold, she heard Iris scream, the sound chilling her to the bone.

"IRIS, COME ON!" Sam shouted from the apartment, panic evident in her voice. She couldn't lose Iris now; it felt more real than ever in that moment.

Iris stood at the window, the ladder swaying slightly beneath her as she peered down into the darkness below. Her heart raced, each thud of Ghostface against the door echoing in her ears, a constant reminder that time was running out.

She took a deep breath, her injured arm pulsing with pain. The wound throbbed, making her hesitate as she gripped the ladder.

With trembling hands, Iris stepped onto the first rung. The metal felt cold beneath her fingers. She glanced back at the door, where the pounding intensified, splintering the wood with each blow. She could almost feel the dark figure on the other side, waiting for the moment when she would falter.

The ladder shifted slightly, and Iris's stomach dropped. She steadied herself, breathing deeply as she forced one foot after the other onto the rungs. Each movement sent jolts of pain through her arm.

Suddenly, a loud crack echoed through the room, the door splintering under the force of Ghostface's relentless assault. Panic surged through Iris as she felt him drawing closer, but she forced herself to focus. She was so close to the window, right in the middle of the way.

With every ounce of willpower, she pushed her body forward, her injured arm screaming in protest. The pain was sharp and relentless, but she couldn't afford to give in to it. Behind her, the door finally gave way, crashing open as Ghostface entered, his presence suffocating the air. He stepped into the room, eyes locked on her, and her heart dropped.

He approached the window and impaled the knife in the wood before reaching for the ladder. "No, no, no—fuck!" Iris whimpered, her desperation growing as she glanced back at Mindy and Sam, who were frantic with fear.

"IRIS, YOU HAVE TO MOVE NOW!" Mindy yelled, urgency lacing her voice. But Iris's eyes were glued to the figure at the window, dread pooling in her stomach as Ghostface lifted the ladder with ease, shaking it violently. The metal rattled beneath her, each jolt sending a wave of terror coursing through her.

Iris took another step, her heart pounding in her chest. The ladder swayed again, and she felt a rush of vertigo. "No, no, no," she muttered under her breath, gripping the rungs tighter.

Ghostface shook the ladder again, trying to dislodge her. Iris could feel the metal creaking beneath her as she lay flat against it, fighting to maintain her grip. Her heart raced, and she felt herself teetering on the edge. Sam's hand brushed hers, but she couldn't get a solid hold.

"Iris!" Sam urged, panic etched on her face. "Just a little further!"

"No!" Iris cried out, feeling her grip weaken as the ladder wobbled precariously. "I can't".

"Iris, you have to keep going!" Mindy shouted, her voice breaking through the chaos.

Iris squeezed her eyes shut, summoning every ounce of strength she had left. She pushed against the pain in her arm, forcing herself to move. With a deep breath, she began inching forward, her body trembling with fear and exhaustion.

Ghostface was still right there, the knife gleaming menacingly as he gripped the ladder, continued to shake it, his movements gleaming with malicious intent.

Sam reached out, stretching half of her body out of the window, her heart racing as she desperately tried to reach for Iris. Danny and Mindy embraced her in order to protect her from falling. Finally, her fingers found Iris's forearm, she gripped it tightly, not willing to let go of the girl. "I've got you!" she shouted, pulling with all her strength.

Danny joined Sam and together they managed to inch her closer. With one last, frantic effort, Danny scrambled through the window, his arms wrapping securely around Iris. He pulled her into the apartment with a powerful yank.

Iris rolled into the room, gasping as she hit the floor. The moment felt surreal, the adrenaline still coursing through them as she scrambled to her feet. But just as relief began to wash over them, they all turned and froze. There stood Ghostface, staring coldly at them from the window of their apartment. The knife glinted menacingly in his grip.

"I'm going to kill you motherfucker" Iris shouted, her voice laced with anger and fear. The words echoing in the small space. "You heard me? I'll fucking end you!"

Ghostface stood still for a heartbeat, seemingly assessing them, before slowly backing away as he slipped out of the room.

"Iris, thank god you're okay!" Sam exclaimed, wrapping her arms around her friend in a tight embrace, her relief palpable as tears streamed down her cheeks. "You're okay."

But the moment of safety was short-lived. "We need to get her to the hospital right now!" Danny shouted, urgency in his voice as he moved towards the door. He had Anika in his arms, applying pressure to her wound, his face strained with concern.

Iris swayed slightly, still in shock but nodding at Danny's command. "He's right" she managed to say. Just as she began to move, her strength gave out, and she suddenly collapsed to the ground.

[ladykailitha]

Icarus Part 15

This was really popular last WIP Wednesday so it got down before the others did. So tada! The meeting with Vickie!

If you guys aren't getting notifications for my works, could you let me in know in the comments? Because I've been seeing it's been hit or miss lately, thanks!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

~

Steve wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he walked into Eddie’s mansion. Both bands were meeting with their shiny new agent, Vickie Cameron. But whatever it wasn’t the woman sitting on Eddie’s big, black leather couch.

She had a stylish, curly, red bob that framed her angular face. Her bright green eyes were knowing and mischievous. Her clothes veered toward Bohemian in darker shades. Her smile was calm and welcoming.

Steve could feel the tension bleed out his shoulders as he sat down between Simon and Spence.

“You must be Abbadon,” she greeted warmly. “I’m Vickie Cameron, I understand that I called in the nick of time?”

Eddie who had come in behind him, smiled at her. “That’s right. She kept trying to shift blame on Abby here. Bob was awesome, though!”

Vickie looked to Chrissy and Robin in askance.

“The Fallen’s producer,” Robin explained. “He was there to prevent liability.”

Vickie nodded and then clasped her hands together. “I understand that not all of Corroded Coffin is here today?”

Jeff shook his head. “Gareth Hughes is currently in a ninety day program.”

“Eddie had to get special permission to talk to him about changing agents in the first place,” Brian explained. “It’s in our contract that all of us have to sign off on major changes.” He glanced sideways at Eddie and then Jeff before hanging his head.

Eddie sat down on the floor next to Shane, crossing his legs like the bassist. “But he was onboard one hundred percent.”

“That’s good,” she said with a smile. “I’m assuming it was that lovely little clause that prevented him from being replaced on tour?”

Steve looked around at the Corroded Coffin members as tension filled the air. Jeff and Eddie were radiating anger while Brian seemed to shrink in shame.

“I didn’t think it was fair that he would get replaced like he didn’t mean anything to us,” Brian hotly defended.

Jeff’s lip curled. “Dude, Gareth voted for us replacing him! He knew had made a promise and broke it. If we don’t punish him somehow, someway, he’s going to keep doing it!”

Brian’s chin began to wobble and he let out a shuddered breath. “I know. It was stupid. But it’s too late now. Let’s just focus on what we’re here for. Please!”

Steve shared looks with his band before they all agreed to just move on. But Steve made sure to make a mental note to talk to Eddie about it, because it was clear Eddie was really upset by the move even after a few weeks.

“Since you’re planning on touring together,” Vickie said, sitting up straight, “that makes the contacting for venues easy. Getting suites for two big bands might prove a little tricky at the moment as I don’t have the clout yet.”

“That’s fine,” Shane said from his perch on the floor. “We like to bunk all together if we can. It makes harder for people to try and pap us if there’s almost always someone there in the room.”

“That makes sense,” she agreed. “Will Jim Hopper be coming with you to function as your head of security?”

Robin nodded. “He’ll be the only one with knowledge of their real identities. His daughter will also be joining us as costumes director, but she has only dealt with their alter egos.”

Vickie nodded back. “That’s perfect. I’ll be just handling contracts and the legal eagle side of things, which is the main reason I need to know their real identities so no one can forge anything claiming to be a member of the band.”

Everyone nodded or murmured their agreements.

She looked at Eddie. “I know this your home, but would it be all right if I spoke to The Fallen alone?”

Eddie nodded and hopped to his feet. “Come on, Jeffy and Bri-Bri, let’s go raid my liquor cabinet.”

The other two men were to their feet in seconds and followed their lead singer out the door like ducklings in a row.

Vickie smiled after them. “They’re going to be fun. I can tell.” She turned back to The Fallen members. “Do you feel safe enough to remove your masks so that I can meet you properly?”

Steve and the other members looked around at each other before Shane took off his mask first. Then Steve and Spence together. Simon was the only that remained with his mask still on. Steve leaned over and whispered in his ear and rubbed his back encouragingly. After a moment or two Simon removed his mask too.

“It’s hard trusting someone new,” Vickie said with a reassuring smile. “Especially after harrowing experience that Abbadon went through earlier today. Giving that much power to any ex is hard, but if half of what Celeste says is true, she’s the last person in your lives that should have any kind of access to your secrets. So no judgments, okay? If you don’t feel comfortable being unmasked around me, that’s fine. I hope I’ll earn your trust in the future.”

Immediately Simon put his back on. Spence and Shane shared a glance before Spence put his back on, too. Only Shane and Steve left theirs off.

Vickie didn’t comment, only nodded her approval. “I had somethings to go over with you all so we can all get on the same page.”

“Why aren’t you calling us by our real names?” Simon asked, leaning into Steve’s side.

“Are any of the Corroded Coffin boys in on the secret?” Vickie asked, leaning forwards on her knees and clasping her hands together.

They all shared concerned glances, before Robin spoke up.

“Eddie is,” she said carefully, her shoulders squared against the tension in the room. “He guessed though, he wasn’t told.”

“But Jeff Laurence and Brian Martin aren’t read in?” Vickie pressed.

They all shook their heads.

“Then that would be why I’m not calling you by your real names,” she said clearly, sitting up straight. “There is a chance they might overhear a name or two and put it together who you are.”

Steve let out a shuddering breath and his lip quivered. “Nancy–she almost called me by my real name right in front of our producer. She almost outed me without a single thought or care. I–I’d never been more frightened in my life when she nearly slipped up. She had been so mad at me and I just wanted to get out of there, but I forced myself to stay there and listen to her.”

Vickie stood up and knelt in front of him, taking one of his hands as his friends offered their verbal support.

“I hate how much power she had in that conversation,” she murmured. “Agents like managers and PR firms are tools to help you navigate a job which constantly changing. That goes for actors, artists, athletes, comedians, and musicians of all walks of life. They should be supporting you, not making you miserable.”

She stood up. “And that goes for everyone, Corroded Coffin included. This is meant to be a partnership and it’s my job to sure it all goes as smoothly as possible.”

Simon removed his mask and looked her in the eye. “If you’ve got Abbadon’s back, you’ve got my vote of confidence.”

Everyone but Vickie turned to him, impressed. Simon was their Cowardly Lion. He was afraid of his own shadow outside of their personas on stage. It was only under the bright lights of the stage and behind his red mask that he truly came alive.

This was a big deal for Simon and his bandmates and Robin were proud as hell for him.

“So what did you need to go over with us?” Shane asked from his perch on the floor.

Vickie cracked her knuckles with a grin. “What I understand is that because your personal and professional lives are separate you need a little help fend off the trolls and influencers, is that right?”

“Aren’t they one and the same?” Spence asked with a snort. His mask was still on despite Simon’s bravery, he wasn’t ready to take that step yet.

“Only in the way that jackals and coyotes are both dogs I guess,” Vickie replied. “They act similar but have different motives for why they’re doing it. But I’m here to handle that.”

“I’m sorry to make you take on PR duties as well,” Robin said ringing her hands together. “But the more people who know the worse it’s going to be to keep a lid on everything.”

Vickie shook her head. “This is a good thing. Because I don’t have a lot of clients to juggle, I can do the PR for you guys. Simpler is always best.” She looked around the room. “I also understand that one of you is in a high profile relationship?”

Steve raised his hand. “Ish. Eddie and Steve are dating but it’s not public and with Eddie’s past history of sleeping with anything that moved, he can’t be seen with a roadie or the tabloids will explode.”

Vickie tapped her lip thoughtfully. “That is a conundrum to be sure. I’ll put together some plans and meet with Eddie and ‘Steve’ later in the week.” She put air quotes around his name. “Now, here are the other things we need to go over.”

Talk turned to the other things on her agenda and by the time it was over with all four members of the band were maskless, and eager to take her on.

~

Vickie, Robin, Chrissy were all sitting in Vickie’s office, popping the cork of a bottle of champagne to share between them. Chrissy poured the bubbling liquid into the three glasses and handed one to each of Robin and Vickie.

“Here’s to the three baddest bitches!” Robin said, raising her glass.

“Hell yeah!” Vickie crowed.

“Damn right!” Chrissy said, as they all clinked their glasses together.

They all drank and Vickie smirked around her glass. “So the industry is abuzz with news about Nancy Wheeler and Corroded Coffin pulling out of her firm.”

Robin and Chrissy leaned in close, clutching their glasses of champagne.

“Ooh,” Chrissy cooed. “Do tell.”

Vickie took another drink of her champagne and let them sit in it for a moment. “Apparently word is out that Corroded Coffin had vouched for her to The Fallen and when she was rude and dismissive of their unique requirements, Corroded Coffin decided that she wasn’t for them. And now huge acts are pulling out too in solidarity to The Fallen.”

Chrissy winced, but Robin nodded sagely.

“She sounded so sincere when I spoke to her,” she said, shaking her head sadly, “but my boys picked up on her hostility right away. All she had to do was put the past behind her, the way Abbadon seemed to, but she let her prejudices blind her and it led her to this.”

Vickie pursed her lips together. “I can see how some heavy hitters might like the bulldog approach that she took to her work, but not everyone has that tough of a skin. And while some part of me feels sorry for her, she absolutely dug her own grave.”

“Eddie was telling me some of the things she said to Abbadon,” Chrissy said, twisting the glass her hands. “It sounded like to me that she wanted him to absolve her of all her wrong doing without owning up to it in any way.”

Robin nodded. “That’s what Bob said, too. There was no apology and it didn’t sound like she ever intended to give one. So cheers to Vickie Carmichael, who sent the dragon running back to her lair!”

“Cheers!” Chrissy agreed to Vickie’s flush of pride.

“Thank you, ladies,” she said demurely. “I’m grateful for the opportunity to work with your boys. They all seem like good people. And yes that includes Gareth. I was able to meet with him without the other boys around and while he has some real problems to deal with, he’s a good person at heart who was led away by the high alcohol promised him.”

Chrissy nodded. “I wish Brian had let Gareth heal while they went on tour. I think it would have shaken something loose to see his friends perform without him.”

“To new beginnings!” Robin said, raising her glass.

“To new partnerships!” Vickie agreed, raising her own glass.

“To friends old and new!” Chrissy said.

They clanked glasses and drank deeply to their new future.

~

Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25

Tag List: CLOSED

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2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence

3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @blondie1006

4- @yikes-a-bee @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten

5- @genderless-spoon @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

6- @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95

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9- @machete-inventory-manager @useless-nb-bisexual @stripey82 @dotdot-wierdlife @kal-ology

10- @sadisticaltarts @urkadop

[moonbaby26]

Title: Proposal

(Chapter 16 of Doflamingo’s Marine Series)

*Crossposted to AO3 Here*

Chapter Pairings: Doflamingo x Reader

Chapter Warnings: language, toxic relationship, abusive relationship, manipulation, angst

Chapter Synopsis: Still feeling pressure from both real and perceived enemies abroad, Doflamingo gives into his insecurities and chooses to take your and his relationship public at last.

Chapters: 1,  2,  3,  4,  5,  6,  7,  8,  9,  10,  11,  12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17

——————————

—————————— 

For as wealthy of a country as Dressrosa was supposedly becoming, shade clearly wasn’t something they’d yet found important enough for including in colosseum upgrades.

You’d had no choice but to fully cover up in layers of clothing today to hide your many injuries. But no matter how you sat now, legs crossed or not, marine coat unbuttoned or not, there was zero breeze and you were getting hot beneath that persistent sun.

Having this tall, pink bird radiating his additional body heat as he insisted on staying hip to hip with you in the booth was not helping either of course.

Feathers grazed against you as you took yet another drink of the iced juice his servants had offered. But you really wanted to put that cold glass against the side of your face. You would have too if the damn cameras hadn’t kept checking back in at the worst times while the sounds of more weapons clashing carried up from below. 

But it really was like some higher power just kept kicking you again when you were already down. 

Because the juice was pulpy, and overly sweet for your tastes. Something Doflamingo had said was his preference when he’d seen you choose it earlier. So you should have blamed him. When on that final sip something harder in the pulp had caught right in the back of your throat.

Debris that was perfectly sized, too small to force down with additional swallowing. But just big enough to trigger a coughing fit as you left your now empty glass on the ledge of the booth.

You grabbed Doflamingo’s drink next. Some rich, dark beer you’d never heard of. Something you were not supposed to be drinking on duty anyway as you suddenly downed it like it was a late night, after hours in Marineford instead.

“Shit.” You still coughed several more times, but feeling that piece finally dislodge in the rush of alcohol. 

“Well...I can’t say I’ve ever seen someone try to drown themselves with pomegranate juice before.” His mocking tone accompanied the stare you’d obviously now earned. “Did you forget the difference between breathing and drinking for a moment there, marine?”

And you glared up at him, everything only made worse when you saw that condescending expression on his face.

“Seeds got caught in my throat, you jerk. If you wanted your juice that damn thick, you should have just stuck a straw in a raw fruit for gods’ sake!”

But you saw the weird way Doflamingo paused. And then abruptly, the way the muscles in his brow shifted to give away that his smile had now spread to his concealed eyes.

“You swallowed the seeds then?”

“Well yes.” But such a simple question was far more off putting when he was now looking at you like that. “Should I have spit them out onto you instead?” You tried to fuss back, flustered really of what could possibly be going through that mess of his mind now.

“They don’t teach much literature in those naval classes do they?” He just answered with a question of his own, still looking inexplicably amused. “Just books on a thousand ways to tie ropes and how to properly mop decks then?”

“I don’t know what you’re on about.” You retorted, even still coughing an additional time then.

“I have an entire library back at the palace you know.” He said, even as he made a gesture with his hand to summon another drink tray. “I think I’ll pick out some books on this for you tomorrow. You’ll need something to do anyway while I’m back in meetings. I’d hate for you to be too bored and lonely, just pining for my return all day.”

Of course his taunting tone said otherwise. He’d love you to have nothing better to do than just lay around for hours waiting for him to climb back on top of you, you were sure.

“Go to hell.” You huffed, albeit still gladly taking a water this time as the servants were back before you both then.

“Already there, darling.” He quipped, still grinning as he grabbed another beer from their tray in replacement of the one you’d just demolished for him.

“And we have our first knockout of the competition!” The announcer’s voice boomed with excitement as you and Doflamingo finally looked away from one another and to the scene below then.

You’d already learned that everything was so over the top in this place, bordering on barbaric honestly.

But you’d done your best to reserve your judgement every time the crowd’s energy had surged when new wounds were opened up or bones were broken in the colosseum battles. 

Because it might just be the culture here. Every island had its own traditions, its own history within reason.

Yet when the winner of this latest match began approaching his now unconscious opponent, spear angling further downward to take new aim, you nearly stood.

That was finally well beyond reason to you.

“He’s already down!” You said to the warlord. Your hand had closed on Doflamingo’s forearm in reflex.

And the fresh cruelty budding in that pirate’s smile while he looked from your hand now gripped onto his arm, and then back to your concerned face made you pause all over again. 

“Oh, dear woman…a good bloodletting gets these animals excited like the hateful things they really are. Are you going to deny them this release?”

“There are children here.” You managed to retort. But the fresh tinge of disgust was obvious in your eyes. 

These were people, not things.

Doflamingo still chuckled, like a mix of false sympathy and real distaste as his own hand abruptly rose above you. “And you are far too predictable, love. You’ll owe me again for this one.”

And the previous roar of the crowd quieted in the resulting confusion.

Only with the snail cameras then zooming in were you able to see that true result on the screen. Your surprise matching the other spectators as what now looked like a spider’s web had materialized from nowhere to block the kill shot.

The aggressor’s spear now hung in midair from where it’d been thrown. Its sharp metal tip pressed into that web, unable to penetrate past it and cross just those few inches that remained to the target’s throat.

“And…and I can’t believe it, ladies and gentlemen!” The announcer exclaimed again. “His majesty has interceded into the fight! Sire!? Would you like to address the crowd!?”

Some woman in gladiator attire was then at the booth before you knew it. She appeared to be part of the colosseum workers as she bowed in respect all the while offering Doflamingo a microphone.

You heard the warlord laugh quietly, speaking just to you before that microphone was in range to pick his voice up.

“See the trouble you’ve started?” He chided.

And yet he still took that microphone from her as if this was also second nature to him. No hesitation at all as he relaxed further back into the stone seating beside you.

His arm went tight around your shoulders to keep you in that resulting camera shot with him as well.

“I’m only being a hospitable host, Gatz.” Doflamingo’s best charismatic tone now echoed through the colosseum as he addressed the announcer by name. The whole venue was now silent except for their king. 

“The captain here isn’t yet acclimated to the normal rules our gladiators live and die by. Just now, she expressed an interest to me in seeing even this loser have an opportunity to fight another day. Because she believes adversity can sometimes lead to improvement, even within the weak.” 

He gave a slight sneer then, but remained relatively calm. “I disagree of course. However, I promised her we could try things her way just for today. So not only will there be no executions during today’s events…”

And he did pause briefly there, anticipating the crowd’s palpable shock. But he knew just when to continue as well, keeping them enraptured as he then dropped the next apparent change.

“But also, at the conclusion of today’s competition, the captain will also be granted one pick from all current participants to grant a full royal pardon to. And that gladiator will walk free from the colosseum this very evening, by her grace alone.” 

You hadn’t known a thing about this of course. But your instincts were quick to believe it wasn’t at all an improvisation.

He’d planned this.

He’d known exactly how you were going to react as the battles worsened, and you’d played right into it.

And now he was doing his favorite trick again because of that. Controlling you at the exchange of human lives. 

In Mariejois you’d submitted to him under the implication of him harming both yourself and your crew if you’d revealed him as Joker.

In Sabaody, he’d freed slaves from his own auction house in exchange for your promising to soon meet him again.

And in Scylla, he’d demanded your fidelity and made you promise to always return to him. Otherwise the life lost would clearly be your own. 

“So I’d advise our competitors to do their best to impress her. She’s got very high standards after all.” Doflamingo still added, briefly smirking down at you.

He was complimenting himself of course there, implying that he was already one of your so called “high standard” choices.

With so much amusement, this man could make an instant game out of people’s lives and freedom. All the while still having the gall to stroke his own ego right on top of it. 

————————— 

And just those few hours later, he was already refusing to help you at all in this dilemma he’d so gladly created.

“Just fucking pick one.” Doflamingo drawled, sounding bored by then as Gatz was still talking over you both across the stadium speakers. The battles were done at last, the competitors reentering the arena one by one as the announcer reintroduced them to go through the final motions.

The sun was just beginning to set. Something you couldn’t even appreciate as the sky began changing to vibrant hues of pink and red.

Because you didn’t have an answer yet.

“That isn’t fair to them.” You insisted. “It can’t just be random.”

The warlord’s lips upturned a little, yet another beer still in his hand. “Then be lazy and let the crowd choose for you. I don’t care. Just hurry up. My ass is falling asleep. I’m tired of sitting here.”

“This whole production was your idea, you dick!”

“Yeah well, the fights take that much longer when they can’t just kill one another. It’s still your fault this had to be so drawn out.”

You made a dissatisfied sound in your irritation. He wanted you to just pick whoever the crowd had seemed most fanatic about. But you weren’t feeling that. Because they had cheered loudest for only the most violent participants.

Which seemed like a terrible criteria for choosing the person who was about to be released back into society.

Yet you could feel that Gatz was about to direct the cameras back to the royal booth at any moment.

Fuck. You were just going to have to go with your instincts. You didn’t have any information on each prisoner’s actual crimes to do any better with this.

“The tall guy with the tattoo and the ponytail.” You said quickly to Doflamingo then. 

The fighter you now referenced was one of the first to have come back into the stadium in this final showing, and you’d already forgotten what Gatz had called him.

But Doflamingo did sit up a little more then, looking down at them all to see who you meant. Yet you saw his smirk fade once his gaze found the only man that matched your description. 

“Fine. A deal’s a deal.”

And with almost a huff, the warlord made a sudden gesture with his hand. You’d known the executives were close by. Yet it’d still surprised you when Diamante was abruptly leaning in behind you both at that nonverbal summons.

“Yes, Doffy?” That creep of a man asked, far too close for your comfort.

“Diamante, remind me. What’s that fucker���s name? The one with the ink nearly on his cock. She likes him apparently.” Doflamingo grumbled, his fingers tightening on your side as his arm had moved back around your waist.

And you had to stare at the pirate when he gave this new description.

Because yes, that prisoner was shirtless and had a lower abdominal tattoo. With the bottom of that image partly obscured by the belt line of his loincloth.

But for all that was holy, did Doflamingo actually have a hint of jealousy in his voice again now? As if physical appearance had anything to do with your pick?

Diamante did answer easily with the name though. “He was one of Riku’s army captains.” He also added after with evident distaste.

“Wait…what?” you tried to interrupt at that. Because your true, only reason for choosing that particular gladiator was that in all the fighters you’d watched, he’d shown the most restraint.

Someone with real self control that you’d hoped would be the least likely to threaten an average citizen once freed.

But if they were now saying that he was part of the previous regime that had slaughtered those very same citizens under Riku’s command, then these two things just didn’t add up to you.

Could your instinct be that wrong?

“Does that mean he participated in Riku’s attack?” You asked seriously, butting in again.

“Of course he did. But I told you to pick someone the crowd liked. You wouldn’t do it. This is on you.” Doflamingo sneered a little at that, still confirming your choice regardless. “That’s the one you’re letting go, Diamante. Go tell Gatz. And remind him of my announcement too.”

“Yes, Doffy.” Diamante didn’t argue, though he also looked displeased with you before he was gone again soon enough.

And you must have had an expression of further concern on your own face, worrying over the possible ramifications of this as you heard Doflamingo finally chuckle again.

As if he couldn’t stay irritable with you when you were just this pathetic.

“Poor thing. Not easy making these decisions, is it?” He asked you. He was now rubbing your side with that large hand. “Don’t worry, we’re almost done here. And then I’ll be all yours again.”

———————————

Gatz had loudly announced your choice of who to pardon, and as expected the crowd had given a mixed reaction at best.

Their resentment to anyone associated with Riku’s former regime was still so visceral. A joke that just kept on giving as Doflamingo couldn’t help but gloat a bit. 

Because they were all so fucking gullible. In that prisoner, they only saw someone who had once ravaged their own people without hesitation. 

But you, a woman who had been here at the colosseum all of a single afternoon, had already seen straight through this. You’d zeroed in on likely the least corrupted in all of the current choices and picked accordingly.

It was impressive really. Highly annoying to him, but impressive none the less. 

And Doflamingo had rolled his eyes behind his glasses when that now former prisoner did fall to his knees in the arena at the news of his unexpected freedom.

The idiot was actually crying by then, crying about soon being reunited with his family and thanking you over and over. While Gatz was playing the storyline up all the more, waxing poetic about your supposed indiscriminate mercy and unique capacity for forgiveness as you looked entirely uncomfortable in the whole situation.

But Doflamingo knew it would still work out in the long run. A single, former Riku loyalist back on the loose was no concern to him after all. Because this was perfect bait for others to follow.

Your kindness could soon become like a goddamn siren call to flush out his enemies.

His irresistible siren.

That wasn’t an inaccurate metaphor really.

And as Gatz gradually finished up, Doflamingo was now taking slightly deeper breaths himself without willing it. 

His muscles were tensing and releasing again as he downed the rest of his current beer.

The real show was finally at hand. What he’d been waiting for all afternoon.

And that actual tinge of nervousness was still foreign to him as his hand had returned to his pants’ pocket, fingers tightening around that ring.

“And before the official conclusion of today’s events, it has been commanded that all you good people of Dressrosa please remain seated! As his royal highness, king Donquixote Doflamingo has an announcement to make!”

And their king did stand then, postured at his full height as the snail cameras had to zoom out to then keep you both in frame on the stadium’s screen.

You were sitting properly again for the cameras of course, with your back straight and your eyes cautiously on him. His disciplined marine once more.

Because you did know how to play this part of the game, whether you could yet admit it or not. The falsehood of putting on a strong front.

Another colosseum worker had scurried over then, presenting Doflamingo with a microphone again. He took it to hold in one of his hands, your ring hooked with his fingertip by the other hand still in his pocket.

“Citizens of Dressrosa…” Doflamingo’s smooth voice filled the stadium as all else quieted once more. “I hope you’ve enjoyed the festivities today. And I’m glad everyone could be here this evening on such short notice. As I do have a confession to make that concerns us all.” And his grin widened further in the dark humor of that implication. 

Because there were a thousand crimes that would have lit this place up in an instant if he had divulged even a single one of them.

“I haven’t been entirely honest with you.” His heart was beginning to pound regardless. 

But he liked it.

He liked the thrill in this risk versus reward.

He had waited so long for this.

“But that secrecy has been for a very good reason. Because the media would have spun this out of control as they’ve already tried to do. So much so that the very peace and stability of this island may have been threatened.”

He was still smiling, letting the lies begin to flow easier and easier from his wicked mouth. 

“And I knew I owed it to you, the loyal denizens of this country to be the first to hear it direct from me when the time was right. To tell you of the choice I’ve made which will affect all our futures.”

And now he did see you, in the peripheral vision of his good eye as you started to look more stressed. That flicker of panic beginning behind those lovely eyes of yours.

You really were a smart girl where it mattered. Thankfully so, as he’d have tolerated little else in the long run. 

He glanced down to you, turning his head to do so. He was making his attention on you undeniable again for those cameras.

“You see, contrary to prior reports, this woman is far from a recent acquaintance to me.”

If everyone was to know, then of course he would put his own spin on the narrative. He could rewrite this as easily as Morgans could.

Doflamingo would make it what he wanted it to be. Not what it really was.

“The captain here is a distinguished marine, yes. Which unfortunately, put us briefly on opposing sides some years ago.”

Oh, the way he knew he was already sanitizing this. As if talking about only a sporting like competition between the two of you then, rather than a trading of blood, bullets, and the warships that’d been out for his hide.

“But as we all know, through my own merit and perseverance, I also rose so quickly to be recognized for what I really was.”

And goddamn, it was actually fun to say this with almost a straight face. “No longer just a pirate, but a guardian of this world. One of the seven warlords, standing now beside her marines as a crucial pillar in the balance of powers on behalf of our world government.”

He was acting as if you two were truly the same, as if you always had been. That you were the self-sacrificing defenders of all these wretches now hanging on his every word.

And your hands were clenching against the top of your skirt in your lap again. 

It was all utter bullshit and you knew it.

His grin widened.

“But I always desired her.”

An actual truth abruptly there.

He saw your lips part slightly. A sudden gun to your head likely would have provoked less surprise now in your eyes.

“So the very moment that ink was dry on my government contract, when my name was rightfully cleared and my honor restored, I called on this woman of course.” 

His fingers were anxiously turning that ring in his pocket now.

“And we’ve been together ever since. In secret to protect her career from all the close minded fools who may still not accept this truth of our shared feelings.”

A sound went through the crowd of course, that mix of true surprise and excitement.

It was every trope he could throw into this. The star crossed lovers, the lonely heroes, the redeemed king pining for his mate that should be untouchable by the prior blood on his hands.

But he still wasn’t done. Because Doflamingo always wanted it all. And he refused to share you even with the ghosts of your past.

“We even went so far as to fabricate other brief relationships to throw the public off of our scent. Just peers of ours who were willing to let their names be tossed into the rumor mill here and there in order to protect us.”

Kuzan, Crocodile, Smoker…fuck them all. They’d had their chances and burned you both. They weren’t going to get any secondary fame any longer because of it.

This was his spotlight now.

“But after three years together…” He was counting from the day he became a warlord of course. At least giving you that sliver of mercy to imply the fucking hadn’t started until he had immunity from prosecution. When he was no longer legally a criminal at least.

When in reality, your very first physical time together had been closer to only three months ago. That day in Mariejois when he’d first closed his hand around your throat and then pounded his raw cock into you for all he was worth not long after. A whole new euphoria he would never forget that initial dose of. 

“We’re not going to hide this any longer.”

His chest tightened as he felt that tangible flare of your haki. But he doubted you would dare strike him here. Not in front of everyone at least.

Doflamingo smiled. 

Didn’t you know that fire inside only made him want you all the more?

“And this country will become even safer under her and my dual protection. We will have a marine port of call established here, just as we implied in Scylla. Dressrosa will be the new home for both her subordinates, as well as the roots for our future royal family.”

The cameras were flashing like lightning, the crowd’s roar the resulting thunder as he finally slid that ring from his pocket.

Your whole identity, your career, and your freedom was likely burning right before you as he saw your eyes look at that jeweled band in the fading sunlight.

A large diamond was in its center, rising above smaller rubies framing it as if they were droplets of blood. Their red reflection casting almost a pink hue across that larger faceted stone.

Like the diamond itself was a survivor rising from the blood of the battlefield.

There’d been no other choice in his mind as soon as he’d seen this ring. He’d known it was perfect.

Like you.

“Marry me.” And Doflamingo’s dark voice said those two words so simply. Firmly for all to hear across the speakers as he held that ring between the two of you.

There was no intonation of a question in that command, but he did not reach for you either to force your hand.

He was still standing, looking down at you. You were seated, so still in the silence that had consumed the colosseum once more as his subjects awaited your answer.

He would not kneel of course. Only in the privacy of the bedroom and within the throws of full passion would he ever do that for you.

No, here in front of all these nameless fleas, it was up to you to rise to meet him. To be worthy of this honor as he loomed above you.

And he did see you take a deep breath. Your haki had stabilized again at last, quieting in tandem to your careful body language as you did stand to your feet.

You held your head up, a forced grace that still didn’t match the sharp look in your eyes. You were staring into those red sunglasses of his in a way that made his stomach tighten.

Like a lioness on a too thin chain.

It could still all go wrong. Because your desire was unclear and wavering. You couldn’t win, but he knew that you could hurt him.

Did you want to hurt him?

His armament was ready. His heart was pounding.

And then you exhaled.

You raised your left hand up from your side, holding it out flat before him.

“Yes.”

Doflamingo did blink behind his glasses at such a small, yet life changing word. The surrender from you that was all it took to launch the crowd into an explosion of hysterics and roaring cheers as he did slip that ring onto your waiting finger.

Their new noise shook the stadium louder than anytime he’d ever heard before as he watched you with some amazement.

He’d abandoned the microphone now, tossed away for someone else to catch or not. He didn’t care.

He didn’t see anything but you in this moment as he squatted slightly, leaning down as well. Whatever he needed to do to catch you by the lips as he’d tilted your head back when the urge overcame him. His grip then so tight beneath your jaw.

And if you really had blasted him with every ounce of haki you possessed in that moment, he still would not have stopped. His mouth was back over yours, fully greedy and exhilarated.

It was now the kiss of victory for all to see as the crowd continued to scream and the cameras flashed.

—————————— 

“Do you want to answer any of their questions?” Doflamingo breathed against your ear. His taste was still fully in your mouth by the time he’d released your lips again. That kiss had been so rough and you could tell he still wanted more, much more.

But you were having trouble catching your breath. The noise, the camera flashes, and the remaining heat you’d endured for hours now were all culminating into this oppressive crush down upon you.

You really couldn’t breathe. Your pulse was racing. “No.” It was nearly a plea. “I want to go.” You said against his open shirt. 

And for that single moment at least he did listen to you. He heeded you immediately.

You heard him call out to Trebol. The closest executive then to you both, that snotty piece of shit that you still refused to even look at.

“We’re heading somewhere quieter!” Doflamingo still had to be loud to be heard above the crowd. “Call me when they’re ready at the palace!”

“Will do, Doffy!”

And that was it. No other warning except for the way Doflamingo’s arms encircled you even tighter before your organs felt like they were being ripped down into your feet.

The ground was gone. The only noise then the air rushing past your ears as you closed your eyes in reflex to that sudden blast.

Any exposed skin you had now registered the temperature change as well. Everything around you abruptly cold and drier then as all went silent once the movement had stopped again.

You could feel your legs hanging freely now. Your arms moved up to slide tightly around Doflamingo’s neck as you dared to take another breath.

“Fuck…” You panted quietly, your eyes opening again even as you refused to look fully down just yet.

“Yes. The air is a good deal thinner up here. But it’s private. Silent. The birds don’t even come this high.” 

And your wholly unorthodox method of transportation was now breathing deeper himself to adjust. His bare chest still so warm against you in contrast to the ever growing darkness, and the creeping cold which accompanied it.

The sun would soon be slipping completely below that far off horizon. The ocean mainly all you could still see. The island of Dressrosa was now just a small circle within it, the lights of the towns nothing bigger than fireflies at this distance.

“I meant…that I wanted to go back to the palace.” You at last responded, trying to regather yourself.

“And miss this view from heaven?” He taunted you still.

But as his grip on you started to loosen, your natural fear only began to rise. Your body knew it did not belong up here, literally now just an arm’s reach from the bottom edges of the clouds his strings were somehow suspending him from. 

This was the very reason mother ocean detested unnatural talents such as his.

“Doffy...” You tried again, still unable to calm your now racing heart.

“Don’t tell me I’ve finally found something that my woman is actually afraid of?” And that grin of his was so infuriatingly smug. 

“You know this isn’t…at least this isn’t the only reason I’m having a…I don’t even know what I’m having.”

A meltdown? Another panic attack? A complete shattering of everything you’d ever been and had worked so desperately to achieve?

“Why didn’t you at least warn me that you were going to do it this way!?” Your voice finally broke then as you looked to his face again.

His smile was fading. “You’ll have to be more specific than that.”

“You lied and told everyone we’ve been together this whole time!”

This was not how it was supposed to be.

And he was just watching you as if this was of no consequence while you went on.

“You just told the entire world that I have been going behind my commander’s back for fucking years, Doflamingo. And that everyone who knew about me and Kuzan or me and Smoker can now call me a cheating bitch…when I’m not, none of that is true!”

And you saw his brow change as soon as their names were mentioned. You knew he was beginning to glare at you from behind those crimson lenses.

“By all means, let’s talk about your other men and their feelings on this while I dangle you a few thousand feet above sea level. That sounds reasonable to me.” He sneered at you.

His hands had closed around your wrists. He was pulling your arms away from his neck now. Your body was starting to slip.

A clear threat, but you knew he was somewhat bluffing. He wouldn’t kill you outright, not tonight at least. Not right after a display like that at the colosseum. He had to keep this farce going in front of the public in the short term at least, lest he be the one to look like a fool.

But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t punish you if you kept going.

You were sure he could let you fall as many times as he wanted. Then catch you at the last moment just to do it all over again.

And he would absolutely be that cruel if you instigated this further.

But you were also so angry, that you truly didn’t care any longer.

“Then do it.” Your voice broke again. “If you’re really that goddamn hateful! Have your laugh and torture me like you would anyone else. I’m tired of trying to make you understand what you clearly don’t want to!”

You saw him pause as your voice rose further at him. Though he was now holding you by only one wrist as you watched him defiantly, waiting for the drop.

You knew his pride wouldn’t allow any other response. You knew that he was going to do it. That he would think he had to do it.

His only hesitation may be in his disbelief that you were actually choosing this. 

That was the only thing you could assume as a grunt came from that man’s throat instead of a laugh. There was no smile. It only looked like an involuntary twitch of stress pulling the corner of his mouth further down. 

An expression of actual misery just before his hand snapped open and you plummeted.

The fucking idiot.

And you didn’t scream. Somehow you forced yourself not to. Your eyes closed tightly as you crossed your arms over your chest and put your ankles together beneath you.

This was the safest way you might dive feet first into the ocean from the highest rigging overhanging the water off of a ship. 

You had to pretend that’s all this was. 

From this height a body would be nothing but a splat of blood and viscera though. Something unrecognizable if you made it that far. 

The timing was so hard to tell with your eyes closed though. 

Just that terrible feeling and the wind rushing past your ears again as the back of your coat fluttered up behind you.

It probably wouldn’t have even hurt. Death like that would have been instant.

What did hurt was the abrupt deceleration. Only then had you gasped, the pain sudden as your body stopped but your insides didn’t. 

Your eyes opened as you clutched at your torso, feeling like things had actually tried to rip inside. Things that never should have moved at all as you twisted in his new strings.

Even through your harsh breathing you could now hear the sea. And your eyes widened when you realized how close it really all was. You could see the waves, breaking gently in the night’s breeze.

A secluded beach was just beneath you. Outside of that rocky ring of cliff face that surrounded most of Dressrosa.

And then the strings had moved again. You were jerked down before being dumped right into that warm sand.

You stumbled, falling onto your knees. But you were still holding your body just below your breasts.

You were too mad to cry by then. You just moved to sit in that sand, not even looking up as those long black shoes met the beach not long after and already began approaching you.

“I guess I forget that I string my insides as well to absorb that shock without thinking.” His tone was cold, almost monotone now. “And you can’t.”

You bit your own lip, refusing to look up at him yet. 

And in all of it. In everything he’d just said and done this evening, what you still hated more than anything was how your heart felt like it was going to twist itself in two.

And that had nothing to do with the fall.

“Doffy…” You said his name in continued irritation, but with grief beginning to show fully on your face.

Even out of your peripheral vision you saw him straighten up at that single word.

“Do you know what’s the single thing holding me back from loving a man like you?”

What a loaded and entirely dangerous question that was. But you gave him no time to respond. You were yelling at this fucking monster next as you glared back up at him, grief and frustration bursting back out all together then.

“It’s only self preservation! Not self respect, not being a marine, not Tsuru, not Kuzan, not even your fucking crimes! I just want to be able to fucking trust you! For one goddamn day for you to not be a complete nightmare! I don’t understand…you say you goddamn want me. You beg me to stay, to say that I love you. And yet you still treat me like this, every single day. Nearly every day you find a new way to hurt me! I can’t do it. I’m not unbreakable. You’re going to kill me eventually! So why not just do it and be done!?”

He stared at you, silent for several moments. But you could see that blood vessel rising on his forehead.

“Why did you say yes to me so easily then?” His voice was so different there, so strained when it finally came.

And you didn’t hesitate to respond to that, regardless of the rising danger once more. “The easy answer? I didn’t want you to have a tantrum and start slicing through people of course!” 

But you still scoffed, not stopping there either. “But the truth? I don’t want to be alone either, you asshole! And I know that no one else is ever going to stay with me for long. Because there is something very wrong with me. Something that only you aren’t afraid of. I don’t know why! But it’s a goddamn curse!”

You heard a low growl from him then even as those waves still moved rhythmically in and out along the shore.

“It’s not my fault.” 

He said this so suddenly, so oddly, that you just had to stare at him as you watched his fist clench at his side.

“The way I treat you…it isn’t my fault!” He hissed at you as you felt that return glare from behind the glasses. His frustration breaking loudly at last. “You drive me fucking crazy! If you would just obey! If you would listen!”

You started to snap back at him. “I’m not your fucking slave! I-“

And he cut you off so quickly. “I don’t care about that! I don’t want you to die! Don’t you understand!? You’re the only one that makes me feel wanted, desired. It’s not transactional, it’s not fucking fake.” He was gritting his teeth, like he couldn’t explain this in the correct words. Like the correct words didn’t exist.

You gestured in exasperation, disbelieving, but knowing this was all the worse if true. “Then you have to work harder! You’re the only one who can protect me from you. If I die, it’s going to be because of you! Don’t you see that!?”

“Then help me!” He yelled right back at you, teeth bared and voice desperate.

This was two insane people now screaming at one another on what should have been a romantic, private beach just after sunset.

And you with a beautiful new engagement ring sparkling on your finger in the starlight all the while.

That finger which now clenched with your others into a fist against your hip. The anger just too much to possibly maintain.

“Fuck, I need alcohol.” You breathed, feeling like you could have punched a hole into a mountain right now if you’d really tried. 

But you didn’t want to. And you sensed Doflamingo still all bristled up a few steps away as you told him as much. “I’m not fighting you.”

You did see his shoulders lower slightly, but that blood vessel in his forehead was still pulsing away.

“We’re getting married tonight regardless.” Doflamingo exhaled next, beginning to pace. “I’m not backing down. You’re signing those papers as soon as they’re ready at the palace. Trebol will call when the official arrives to bear witness.”

“And why does it have to be tonight?” You asked more tiredly then. Nothing was really going to surprise you any longer. You had met your limit for today.

“Because I don’t trust anyone either. When my stunt at the colosseum hits the newspapers tomorrow, someone’s going to try and stop us. I know they are. So you’ll smile, you’ll sign every goddamn paper I put in front of you, and it will all be faxed to Mariejois tonight. By morning you’ll already be Mrs. Donquixote and everyone else can go fuck themselves.”

“How romantic.” You answered, your chin now resting on your knees that were pulled up to your chest as you remained sitting in the sand.

And at last it was quiet then. Just the calm of the waves for a while. 

Doflamingo had finally stopped pacing, standing there with his hands in his pockets watching the horizon.

For several minutes he remained there, lost in his own thoughts about who knew what before he turned to look at you again.

You heard him sigh, something he didn’t do very often as those long legs eventually carried him back over.

You didn’t fully tense as his ass suddenly met the sand to plop down near you. But you raised your head cautiously to acknowledge him.

“It’ll get better.” He said, almost quietly then to your surprise. 

And all of the sudden your legs were moving on their own. You hadn’t even felt him attach a string to your spine this time.

But you frowned as they stretched out on their own accord. You could only wonder what he was planning now before he laid down abruptly, not caring about the sand on his clothes at all apparently. 

His head was then resting in your newly available lap that he had just provided for himself by moving your legs.

He shifted his fingers again after as well, still controlling you to make yours go into his hair next as he used his own free hand to remove his sunglasses.

You saw the genuinely tired look in his eyes then as he looked up at you while you were forced to gently stroke his scalp. “I do want you to love me.” He breathed, his eyes remaining on yours.

“I know.” You answered. Not arguing any longer, and not bothering to demand him to release you. 

“Just don’t give up on me yet.” He said, his eyes going more half lidded as he let your hand stop petting him. He turned his face, so gently kissing your hand then instead. “Because I already love you.” He added.

And you inhaled quietly. It pulled at you every damn time he said it. “I think…that maybe you want to.”

“If we don’t yet, then we’ll learn how to.” He promised you at that, not actually disagreeing. And he turned onto his side then, briefly closing his eyes with his head still comfortably in your lap.

“We’ll love each other.” Doflamingo said, reinforcing this just loud enough for you to hear over the continued waves. “We’ll have to, because no one else ever will.”

———————————

    T⨂  BE 

CONTINUED

———————————

Thanks for reading!

[axkirak]

The Curse of Cassandra [EP : V]

Read in Ao3 : here

Pairings:  Qimir x f!reader(SEA Reader)  [The Acolyte]

Content waring: a lot of blood, mind manipulation, referenced violence and murder, mention of killing killing killing and also killing

tags/themes: Alternate Universe - Dune & Star wars, Partners in Crime, Strangers to Lovers

Summary: Today is the last day of your life. That is what you have seen in your vision. You prepare yourself and accept the unchangeable fate, unaware that your destiny has already been altered. and you cannot predict what kind of fate awaits you ahead.

Status: finished writing this fic! (It will end in Episode 14)

A/N: still bummed about The Acolyte being canceled and unsure if I should continue this fic. However, Thanks to everyone who’s followed along—this fandom is amazing, and I love you all.

➡  Intro // EP : 1 // EP : 2 // EP : 3 // EP : 4 // EP : 6 // EP : 7 // EP : 8 // EP : 9 // EP : 10 // EP : 11 // EP : 12 // EP : 13 // EP : 14 (Completed)

Special OS : Phantom Thread

[Episodes 5] When you have lived with prophecy for so long, the moment of revelation is a shock.

Everything happens for a reason.

Your mother once taught you this, speaking of how fate works from the perspective of a seer.

The words suddenly come to mind again as you follow Qimir up onto the Fallon, the ship hidden in the darkness of Tatooine's vast desert—your home planet.

"The desert is your home and your tomb," you murmur absently. A sudden realization dawns in your consciousness. It’s happening, you think with dread, your pulse racing erratically. You’ve seen this scene a hundred times before, yet it still feels surreal as it unfolds before your eyes.

Four months—precisely. No more, no less. This is the exact time Qimir has to deliver you to his employer, as stipulated in the contract.

And it might just be the last stretch of your life, along with everyone else on this ship.

A new alertness grows rapidly within you as you step forward into the unfamiliar cargo ship.  Everything is pristine, modern, and expensive. The air inside is cool, courtesy of the automated climate control system, yet you feel anything but comfortable. Partly because of the thick, heavy metal cuffs clamping down on your wrists, and partly because of the piercing gazes of the three guards, who look identical in their matching gray uniforms. They follow close behind, laser guns in hand, watching your every step without blinking. If you make even the slightest suspicious move, they won't hesitate to shoot you down instantly.

For a brief moment, your mind retreats into a temporary calm—a sense of resigned acceptance of a fate that can no longer be altered.

You shift your focus to the figure ahead—the tall, familiar man walking a short distance away. Qimir’s expression is as unreadable as a statue, devoid of any emotion. You can’t tell what he’s feeling at this moment. Perhaps he’s relieved, finally rid of the burden that is you.

A soft, cynical laugh escapes your lips. You can’t help but pity yourself.

So this is your reward for saving his life. In the end, he still sells you out for the bounty.

Before you could take another step, Qimir suddenly halted, causing you to stop as well. He turns to face you as if he had known you were watching him all along. It seems like he wants to say something, but the words never come. So, you decide to speak first.

"I should have left you to rot there," you say. The words sound harsh, but your tone lacks any trace of resentment.

A part of you wants to be angry at Qimir, but you know you deserve to be angrier at yourself. Who else could you blame? You chose this path willingly. It was your own weakness, your own foolish attachment, that led you to this pitiful end.

You notice Qimir's brow furrow, a look of surprise on his face, but you have no chance to hear his response as the barrel of a gun presses hard into your back, forcing you to move in another direction. The guard behind you roughly pushes you forward, guiding you toward the ship's holding cells, where you will await whatever fate has in store for you next.

Before you are taken away, you glance back at Qimir one last time. That was when you caught sight of the person who had hired him. The other man stepped out from the opposite door of the ship and approached Qimir with an air of authority.

The man was an elderly Neimoidian, his skin mottled in shades of gray and green, as was typical of his species. Tall and thin to the point of looking like a matchstick, he was dressed in luxurious dark silk robes with the peculiar headdress common to the Trade Federation. His large, piercing red-gold eyes, sharp as a hawk's, met yours in return, studying your deep blue irises with a hint of satisfaction before nodding to Qimir.

You didn’t know the name of this old stranger, and you were certain he didn’t know yours either. But he knew who you were and what you were capable of. That’s why he had gone to such lengths to obtain you.

Death was drawing near. You could feel it in your bones—the malevolent intent of something hidden, something that would soon be revealed.

The dark metal box was opened, revealing a collection of rare and priceless materials neatly arranged inside, their surfaces gleaming as they caught the light. Qimir picked up a Nova Crystal, inspecting it briefly before setting it back down with little interest. He had no desire for it, but he was compelled to take it as part of the reward specified in the contract.

But in truth, there was only one thing he had ever truly sought—only one object that mattered to him.

At the bottom of the box, lay a large piece of Cortosis. It had been carefully concealed, meant to be seen only by the bag’s owner and those granted permission to open it. Qimir reached for it next, examining it closely, his fingers tracing the subtle lines of the dull gold metal. It was genuine, he thought, the finest quality he had ever encountered.

The Neimoidians hadn’t exaggerated when they claimed their people could find anything in the galaxy, no matter how rare or scarce it might be.

“Is this all you wanted?” Blex, the branch manager and captain of the Fallon, asked with a hint of uncertainty. He had worked for the Trade Federation for decades, and this was the first time someone had specifically requested Cortosis. Though rare, it wasn’t particularly valuable compared to other metals, minerals, or energy sources that fetched far higher prices.

“Yes, that’s all.” Qimir nodded, carefully placing the cortosis back into the chest and locking it securely. He was well aware of the Neimoidians' curiosity regarding his unusual request. To most, Cortosis seemed like a worthless scrap, its softness making it nearly impossible to forge into weapons or armor. But Qimir knew its value far exceeded what others might assume.

“You’ve done well.” The old man wasn’t stingy with his praise. He had a particular fondness for bounty hunters who weren’t foolish and didn’t greedily demand more than they deserved. “I expect we’ll be working together often in the future.”

Qimir responded with a broad grin. For a moment, Blex felt an odd discomfort at the sight of that grin, but the feeling quickly passed. In the next instant, the human’s face returned to its usual friendly demeanor.

"I have a small question," Qimir began, his voice casual and still smiling. "You’re not planning to kill that woman, are you?"

The elderly Neimoidian let out a snort, as if he was on the verge of laughing. "Kill her? What nonsense are you spouting? Why would I kill something so useful?"

"Useful?" Qimir echoed, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. "What use could she possibly have?"

Blex hesitated, realizing he had let slip something he shouldn’t have. "Nothing," he waved dismissively. "You’ve got what you came for, so be on your way. Don’t waste my time with unnecessary questions. My time is money, boy."

Normally, Blex would be quite irritated by anyone prying into his business affairs. But this time, he was in too good a mood to bother with an ill-mannered bounty hunter. The old man could hardly wait to leave this place and present that woman as a gift to the head of the Trade Federation.

This is an incredibly worthwhile investment. Blex thought gleefully, considering what he stood to gain from his superior. That woman was worth more than a hundred Nova crystals or Aurodium ingots combined.

Qimir, however, remained still, even after being told to leave. His gaze drifted out the ship’s window, where nothing but the faint glimmer of distant stars, silent and desolate. The Neimoidians were a cautious and paranoid race. They had chosen the rendezvous point carefully to ensure there were no outside witnesses and minimize the risk of any unexpected dangers.

How ironic he mused with grim amusement. A race so paranoid, and yet not a single one of them realized that the real danger wasn’t outside the ship—it was inside.

"You don’t need to answer my question." Qimir's voice suddenly turned chillingly cold, the smile vanishing as quickly as his demeanor shifted, as if he were an entirely different person. "Because I can extract the answer from your mind anyway."

He raised his hand, and with a single flick, the Neimoidian’s body seemed to be constricted by some invisible force, lifted into the air, and violently yanked toward him. Within seconds, Blex's throat was clutched in Qimir’s grip. The Neimoidian’s greenish face darkened as the grip around his throat tightened.

In that instant, Blex felt a sharp intrusion of the force, penetrating his cerebrum and dissecting his memories piece by piece. The pain was excruciating, as if a real blade were slicing into his brain.

Blex's eyes widened even further as he stared at Qimir. The realization of truth in this moment between life and death brought a mixture of surprise and terror beyond words. "Y-you... You have the force. Are you a Jedi?"

"Not exactly, but close enough," Qimir shrugged, a mocking laugh escaping his lips—a laugh that could easily send chills down anyone's spine. "If I had more time, I'd let you guess again, but unfortunately, time is money."

Blex didn’t even get the chance to beg for his life. As soon as the mind-reading process was complete, the Neimoidian merchant’s neck was snapped with swift precision. Qimir discarded the lifeless body like a piece of trash, throwing it to the ground before glancing up at the ship’s ceiling. He noticed the lights abruptly turning red, followed by the shrill blare of the alarm echoing throughout the spaceship.

Qimir began calculating in his mind.

There were about three minutes before every guards on the ship would storm his position, and it would take at least another five minutes to kill anyone who stood in his way to reach his second target, who was now securely locked in the holding cell on the lowest level of the ship.

Eight minutes is too long he thought, quickening his pace, not wasting any more time.

As he walked, his thoughts drifted to you—the somber expression on your face, your strange mannerisms and words, and those blue eyes that always seemed to carry a hidden burden, as if you were harboring a crucial secret.

Qimir had never understood you, not even a little. He always thought of you as a living enigma, a puzzle he would never be able to solve.

But now he finally understood everything.

Eight minutes.

You think as you peer through the bars, noticing the two guards stationed outside your cell—a surprisingly small number, likely because they see you as nothing more than an ordinary woman, harmless and lacking the strength to retaliate.

“I don’t see why I have to waste my time guarding her too. One of us is enough. What could she possibly do?” One of the guards, whom you’ve privately nicknamed 'Scarface' because of the large scar on his face, grumbles to his companion. Despite the distance between your cell and the guards’ station, you hear every condescending word with crystal clarity.

These men underestimated you, and it was likely that many here, except for the Neimoidian merchant, didn’t even know who you really are or what you’re capable of. Their negligence in handling your imprisonment was unforgivable—like locking your arms tightly but forgetting to gag you.

You know this is your chance, slim as it may be. But it’s better than sitting idly in your cell, awaiting death. You must seize every opportunity and struggle with every ounce of hope left.

Closing your eyes, you take a deep, controlled breath, following the calming techniques your mother taught you. You steady both your body and mind, preparing for what needs to be done.

You know what you need to do. You've trained for this situation before, but the results were often less than successful. It’s an ancient technique that's difficult to learn and even harder to execute. During your training, you failed countless times, leaving you uncertain if you could actually pull it off when it matters most.

In the brief moment of calm, you focus your thoughts, replaying memories of your mother’s teachings. Her voice played in your mind, reminding you of the details you had once studied so intently.

Words, tone, and thought must align as one. For it is the forceful will, distilled from the vocal cords and heart, that becomes a command no one can resist.

You suddenly open your eyes, your thoughts halting as your heightened senses catch the presence of death creeping in from above, gradually drawing nearer.

There's no time left.

The realization sends a tremor through your body. You quickly leap to the bars and shout, "Let me out, now!"

Both guards turn to look at you, puzzled at first, before breaking into loud laughter. “You must be crazy if you think you can command me,” Scarface sneers.

You grit your teeth, knowing you have failed. Your panic made you pitch your voice too high; those men would feel nothing.

You refocus, breathing in rhythm as you had practiced. Your blue eyes gleam with intensity as you fix them on Scarface. This time, your voice rings out clear and unwavering, reverberating through the air—a blend of sharpness and depth that fills the room.

“Take your gun and shoot your friend. Then, release me and kill yourself, you bastard.”

The scarface jolts, his expression suddenly turning to one of impassivity, his eyes empty and emotionless. At that moment, you know you've succeeded. 

You wait calmly for the outcome as the scarface turns his laser gun to shoot his own colleague, walks over to unlock the cell door and handcuffs, then lifts the gun to shoot himself in front of you.

It’s as difficult as it is easy you think. An inexplicable feeling takes shape inside you. You're unsure whether it's the sorrow of killing someone for the first time or the thrill of manipulating someone's mind for the first time.

You clench your fists, your palms sweaty, trying to suppress the strange feeling before stepping over the bodies with distaste and quickly moving on to find a way to escape.

However, as soon as you climb up to the top, everything in front of you turns into a nightmare you’ve seen before.

The ship is bathed in red from the emergency lights, and the blood is scattered across the floor and up the walls of the corridor. The more steps you take forward, the more you see corpses strewn across the floor. You smell the blood clearly and hear the moans and cries growing louder after the alarm has ceased. It indicates that some are still alive, but not for long. You've seen it in your dreams. These people will all die, and soon it will be you—the last one alive here.

For a moment, you consider retreating back to the cell, locking yourself away from the outside world, and hiding quietly behind bars until everything is over. But you know that the cell won't help. It will only make you an easy target. You need to get out of this ship before it finds you.

Suddenly, your determined thoughts abruptly stop as you feel a chill run through your entire body. 

It’s coming. You can feel it. 

Not from the front, but from behind.

Fearful instinct freezes your body like a deer in front of a lion, but curiosity compels you to slowly turn around, just to see it with your own eyes. 

What you see leaves you confused rather than scared.

"Qimir," 

You utter it in bewilderment, addressing the man standing there, the one you always thought you knew well. But today, everything is different. His face is cold, and blood was smeared all over his body and face, making it difficult to determine if it was from his own injuries or those of others.

Your eyes widen in disbelief as you look at Qimir, both fearful and astonished.

It can’t be.

You remember the vision vividly. The one who should have appeared here and killed everyone, including you, was the mysterious Sith with the cracked metal helmet. But in reality, Qimir is here, and he is the one who has killed everyone instead of that Sith. This has never appeared in your visions before, not even once.

You and Qimir lock eyes, frozen as if time itself has paused. But finally, it's Qimir who makes the first move. He begins to take a step toward you, but suddenly, you shout, your voice firm and echoing through the air, "Stop. Don't move."

At first, Qimir thinks you’re speaking to him. But as he observes more closely, he notices that your gaze isn’t on him at all but focused somewhere behind him instead. When Qimir turns around, he sees one of the security guards aiming a laser gun at him at a distance close enough to be fatal. Yet, the guard doesn’t pull the trigger. He just stands there, motionless like a statue, except for his eyes, which dart back and forth in terror.

Qimir swiftly raises his knife and slashes the guard's throat, the blade cutting through the major artery with ease.

As the guard's body collapses, you also fall to the ground, blood gushing from your nose down to your chin. You can feel your strength ebbing away, replaced by a sharp pain. It’s the side effect of using your power so abruptly, damaging part of yourself in the process.

You wipe the blood from your face, smearing it across your skin, then slowly force yourself to stand just as Qimir reaches you. He grips your arm, helping you to your feet. You want to pull away, but you have no strength left. Standing on your own is a struggle in itself.

You look up at him, countless questions on the tip of your tongue, but the only words that escape your lips are a faint whisper, "Why?"

Qimir remains silent, and suddenly, he raises his hand. You flinch, the image of being choked by that Sith in your dream flashing through your mind.

But Qimir doesn’t do that. Instead, he gently places his hand on your cheek, his thumb tenderly wiping away tears you hadn't even realized were falling.

In that moment, something deep within you sends a warning, alerting you to the significance of what's happening—a twist in the thread of fate, altered by an unknown variable, changing the course of events at the last possible moment.

You’re unsure and unable to comprehend what is happening until Qimir leans in, so close that your foreheads touch, and answers all your unspoken questions with a kiss.

As your lips meet, breath merging with breath, tongue with tongue, and soul with soul, intertwining and becoming one, you understand. Qimir is everything to you—whether it be the beginning...or your inevitable end.

[profounddefendorcrusade-blog]

Starlo apologist speaks again

this picture right here.. i hate it sm.

TIME TO DEBUNK EVERYTHIN', YEEHAW!

#1 Starlo's name is uncool on purpose might literally mean 'Starloser' It fits his character arc. In other words, he's not the cool, badass sheriff he pretends to be (he's not 'North Star'), but a kind, friendly farmer inside

#2 He definitely DOES care about Clover. Why else would he keep saying he's proud of them, praise them, believe in them, get worried about their safety, send them a warning letter, immediately run to check what's going on with them, get angry at Clover for not staying HOME (yeah he really did consider the Wild East their home) tell Martlet to bring Clover to safety, and jump at Ceroba to try and protect them? don't question the love of star daddy

#3 Undyne actually IS a badass. Starlo isn't. He's a softie who cares about pretending to be cool bc he's insecure, even when in a situation where he could die. He wants to be a hero. He wants to be SOMEBODY, not a NOBODY. Maybe he also cared about his own status more than his town, friends and family (which could be the reason he brought a bb gun). Or he just wanted to buy time so the others could hide. Now that I think about it, it's the latter. Why else would Dina say this in genocide after you kill Ceroba: "He was more of a hero than you'll ever be." That's the whole point of his geno fight that, and a lil bit of angst when roba finds him dying IT'S CALLED CHARACTERIZATION

#4 He kidnaps Clover bc they're a human. The only human who's ever set foot on the sands of the Wild East. He's obsessed with human culture. His whole life ARE westerns. Why? Whether it's the sense of justice cowboys represent, the exciting lives they live, or both, Starlo feels like he matters thanks to this nerdy interest, like he can contribute to his community

#5 i see Martlet as a big sis not a mom bc of how young she is, despite that one joke in bits & bites, but to each their own Star jails Martlet bc of the potential of the Wild East getting shut down. She did threaten to report them to Asgore and well... according to him, better safe than sorry. He even admitted he doesn't feel right doing it

#6 It WAS wrong of him to blame and attack Clover like that, all for his own status and ego (and to get his friends back) It's called a flawed character making a fucking mistake. Or did you expect someone perfect, with no room to grow and develop throughout the piece of media? Also, Clover is not an infant, they're a child. If it was meant to be a joke, it ain't funny bucko

#7 he either actually forgot about the fact he himself kidnapped Clover bc he wasn't in the right mindset (understandable), or purposefully ignored the information to avoid responsibility for his actions & shift the blame onto Clover (he IS flawed and thats more than ok)

#8 in neutral, he doesn't apologize bc Ceroba doesn't come and snap him out of his fantasy & mindset

#9 he did his best with the apology. you can't blame starlo. He's not very good with expressing himself and emotions in general (that he has been avoiding for so long via escapism; he also uses escapism to help Ceroba instead of talking openly with her)

#10 he doesn't know how the ceroba & clover interaction played out bc he was unconscious. Maybe he thought Clover had managed to talk her outta fighting. He says in true pacifist "Yall had a fight?? and the deputy won??" In other words he didnt know they had even fought. To add fuel to the fire, his bff just died and star, being the forgiving sweetheart he is, had wanted to give her a chance at redemption, but never got the chance to. He never got the chance to say goodbye, either.

#11 just bc starlo's an adult doesn't mean he can't have these flaws/behaviors. Every individual is unique. Starlo is deff deeply insecure and most likely autistic, too. Please think about that in the future, thank you

my current feelings can best be described by good old Axis

[desi-girll]

মেয়েরা রাত দখল করো: THE NIGHT IS OURS

WOMEN RECLAIM THE NIGHT, JUSTICE FOR RG KAR VICTIM

let's do our part in protesting against the brutal rape and murder of RG Kar PGT doctor who was on a 36 hour shift on Friday, 9th August when she was resting alone in a room. please read the entire post even though it's long.

if you don't know what happened, the 31 year old woman had been gang raped (both before and after murder), and tortured to such an extent which cannot be explained. afterwards, the authorities and police first tried to cover it up by telling her parents it's a suicide but later it was revealed not to be so. it is a case of rape and homicide.

(i) speculations are that the girl had possibly become privy to some unlawful work going on at the hospital during night shifts, and hence to silence her, all this was done.

(ii) parents were refused to be allowed to see their daughter's body until after 3 hours of their arrival. they had to beg and plead for their basic rights.

(iii) what's more is that her body was burned by the police without taking the consent of her parents, possibly to erase evidences in case a second post mortem was to be done.

(iv) the girl's father has also reported to the high court, the fact that the DGP called him up and asked him not to take matters forward and just settle it amongst themselves.

(v) the person who has been arrested for this incident is speculatively just a scapegoat who has been paid to take the blame for something done by a larger group of people, probably under the protection of the syndicate ran in West Bengal by the government.

Post Mortem report of the victim (which again, was conducted by RG Kar doctors themselves, and we don't know if some details are intentionally being hidden or not

The postmortem report of the trainee doctor raped and murdered at Kolkata's RG Kar Medical College and Hospital revealed that she was throttled to death. Her thyroid cartilage was broken due to strangling and a deep wound was found in her private parts, the four-page report said. Sources said the murder and rape likely took place between 3 am and 5 am on August 9.

Injuries were found on her belly, lips, fingers, and left leg. Sources said the victim's nose and mouth were clamped, and her head was pushed against a wall to prevent her from screaming.

The scratch marks on the woman's face are believed to have been caused by the accused's fingernails, indicating that the victim desperately tried to fight back.

"The mouth and throat were constantly pressed to prevent screaming. The throat was strangled to suffocate. The thyroid cartilage broke due to strangling," the postmortem report said.

The report also mentioned that the woman was bleeding from both eyes, mouth and private parts. The report said the wounds in her private parts were caused by "perverted sexuality" and "genital torture". However, the reason for her eye wound has not been determined yet.

Source of the post mortem

so today (14th August, 2024) at 11:55 PM IST, there is going to be a midnight protest held across Kolkata. women protestors have planned to hold night long agitation across multiple spots in the city. the campaign titled 'Women, Reclaim The Night: The Night Is Ours' is aimed at seeking justice for the sexual assault and murder of the woman doctor. Men have also decided to join the protest in large numbers to show their solidarity with the cause.

The protest will take place simultaneously at the Jadavpur 8B Stand, Academy of Fine Arts, College Street, Sinthee More, Dunlop, Maldah English Bazaar, Siliguri (Darjeeling More).

i know it isn't possible for many of us to attend the protest but let's do our part virtually if not physically. share posts about the incident on your social media, with your friends, relatives. take part in the online campaign going on in social media. at 11:55 PM IST (14th August, 2024) tag your posts with #womenreclaimthenight and #thenightisours.

make this tag trending on all your socials. share this post to raise awareness. share all other posts related to this incident. with the tags i wrote above.

spread the word to your friends and relatives, do your part this way. indians and non indians, both alike. male, female, non binary, all genders, all alike. raise your voice before it's too late.

because the next victim could be you or any of your loved ones.

[melancholy-of-nadia]

love u lately (m) #12 | myg/knj/pjm

title: love u lately​ chapter title: #12 - shift pairing: yoongi x f. reader, namjoon x f. reader, jimin x f. reader (yoonminjoon x f. reader) rating/genre: m (18+) ; smut ; college/university au , pseudo frat! bts; best friends! yoonminjoon friends to lovers; summary: an outro song is defined as a song placed at the end of an album that signals to the listener that this is the wrap up or conclusion of the story told in the album . and while this might be the outro to this part of your life story, you think this is is also kinda like a prelude to a new beginning. a graduation. a move. a shift in relationships. we don't know what the next album of our life entails but having three boyfriends makes the unknown, a little easier. warnings:  LIGHT SMUT, Namjoon sax mention, small FOURSOME scene again, EIFFEL TOWER, random fluff scattered all around, mention of a pool party, kissing, blowjob, multiple orgasms, reader's birthday is 7/9 army day, video call, creampies, multiple positions, dirty talk, pet names, size kink returns, more confessions as always but they're good! playful banter from yoonminjoon note: @daegudrama has been editing this for over a year and if you have not followed her, please do so NOW. She has a SPICY Festa 2023 one shot series that is amazing and is currently working on a BTS x Pokemon fic. Go show some love! total word count: 7.5k (not including the authors notes at the end) drop date:  July 12th, 2024, 1PM PST cross posted on AO3 here ← #11 | Series Masterlist

Overall, your relationship with Namjoon, Yoongi and Jimin progresses well after that night. Is there really a difference between the time before and after being in a polycule for you?

Well, not really. You would say the biggest difference is that it feels like old times when it was just you and them versus the world, and not like the months leading up to that Gamma party last October. The days when you would stick together, and there wasn’t casual dating or hookups causing a rift in your friendship. You guys are more intimate with one another now though, and it's been serendipitous.

After the initial foursome, you all agreed to keep things lowkey, but your best friends (now lovers) don’t exactly know the definition of “lowkey.” From conspicuously holding your hand as they walk you to and from class (taking turns, by the way), it hasn’t gone unnoticed by others on campus. 

Soon after, rumors began circulating, especially coming from a certain salty Gamma boy who got left behind and some snarky Psi Gamma girls who were friends with Jimin’s ex. You’ve heard things in passing like “Y/N, the Beta Tau Sigma slut being passed around the house” or confession account tweets anonymously saying “Y/N is stealing all the finest men on campus for herself. Selfish bitch.”

But these are the same rumors you have been hearing since the beginning, back when you first moved into the BTS house and started hanging out with the guys. But with more concrete evidence now, it’s been more rampant than ever before. However, if you try to defend yourself, you know it will only satisfy those people more, confirming their torment works and continuing to do it until you’re on the brink of insanity.

You don’t blame your boyfriends for their affectionate behavior or for not keeping things more under wraps. 

They just want to show you as much love and care as they can to make up for all the lost time they couldn’t do that.

So when you accidentally snap at them for an unrelated thing after dealing with some harassment in your Instagram DMs, your boyfriends immediately worry about you, especially Yoongi. He is the first to notice the shift in your mood, pulling you aside to talk.

"Hey," Yoongi says softly, his voice filled with concern. "What's up? You've been tense all day."

You sigh, feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders. "Sorry…It's just... the bullshit rumors on the confessions account Instagram. I’ve been getting hit with so many DMs from burner accounts calling me “the Beta Tau Slut”. I’ve blocked a lot of them, but…" You feel your eyes slowly fill with tears of anger, but unwilling to let them fall.

Explaining all of this feelsl so stupid. Namjoon and Jimin join the conversation, their faces mirroring Yoongi's worry. "Babt, we won’t let them get to you," Namjoon says, taking your hand in his. "You know we’re here for you, right?"

"I know," you reply, squeezing his hand. "I’m usually good at ignoring shit like this, but damn… it just won’t stop."

Jimin wraps an arm around you, his warmth comforting. "We’ll handle this together, okay? We won’t let them say shit to bring us down."

Their support makes you feel better, but the constant negativity still lingers in your mind. It isn’t just about ignoring the gossip—it is about reclaiming your narrative and not letting anyone else define you or your relationship.

The next day, Yoongi surprises you with an idea. "Let’s make a statement," he suggests. "We’ll show everyone that we’re proud of what we have."

"How?" you ask, curious but hesitant.

"We’ll post about it," Jimin says, determination in his eyes. "Not intended to fuel the rumors, but to show that we’re happy and in love. Let them say what they want. We know the truth." Namjoon and Yoongi nod in agreement. "It’s time we take control of our story," Namjoon adds.

That’s when your three boyfriends post a photo of all three of them kissing your face at once, followed by a photo dump of other moments from that spring semester. 

There is no caption, as the photos really speak for themselves. You receive a downpour of positive comments from people who either already knew about your relationship with Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jimin or familiar faces you have good relationships with that comment their congratulatory messages to you four.

That eases some of the anxiety that has been building up inside you. Seeing the supportive messages and knowing that there are people who genuinely care about you and respect your relationship makes a significant difference. You feel a sense of relief and gratitude wash over you as you read through the kind words. You're glad you have the best boyfriends. They have stood by you, defending your relationship and ensuring you feel loved and cherished despite all odds.

–

"Took you long to come clean, honey pie." Hwasa narrows her eyes at you from the doorway of your room.

“Look I can explain…” You look away in shame, clutching your pillow closely, feeling more anxious than ever. You’ve never had close female friends before, so having to be comforted by one feels scarier than when the guys confronted you about things.

"Explain why you couldn’t tell me why you were snogging with your three guy best friends? I thought we were friends!" She pulls out her phone, pointing to the photo Yoongi had posted as well as Namjoon and Jimin’s.

You really were planning to tell her not long after you made it official with Beta Tau Sigma, but now it feels too late that she found out through several Instagram posts.

“I was scared you would think it’s weird…” "Weird?" She scrunches her face in confusion as she moves closer towards you, her tone serious. "I thought it was pretty fucking… awesome!" Her enthusiasm grows suddenly. "That’s every girl’s fantasy—dating the school’s hottest guys all at once? Trust me, I’ve heard stranger things."

“Really? Like…” You whisper, asking cautiously.

Hwasa sighs, her expression softening as she sits down beside you on the bed. “Like a girl from Psi Gamma doing coke lines with her professor and fucking him after for an A+, or a Mu Chi guy getting his dick up after injecting steroids,” she says with a chuckle. “Trust me, your situation isn’t even close to weird in comparison.”

You have a lot of questions about what she just told you, but you’ll save it for later.

You let out a nervous laugh, relieved by her understanding tone. “I guess you’re right. It’s just all so new to me. I’m so sorry, Hwasa.”

“It’s okay,” Hwasa reassures you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Like I’ve said a million times before, I got your back. I just feel bad for not being able to protect you from the harassment sooner…”

You sigh. "It’s not your fault Hwasa. But the good thing is that I had my boyfriends with me who have been doing their best and bearing with me through this. They’ve really made me feel what love actually is.”

"And that's why I'm so happy for you. I haven't known them for too long, but they’ve always seemed like great guys. If they make you happy, then I'm all for it." Hwasa joins you on your bed, getting comfortable under your Pompompurin blanket.

You smile, feeling the warmth spread through your chest as you move in for a hug. “Thank you, Hwasa. That means a lot.” After a moment, you pull back and remember your other friends. “Wait..do… Soohyun, Jieun, and Soyoon know?”

Hwasa groans, flopping back on the bed. “Soohyun saw the posts, but she’s still a confused little bird, bless her heart. Jieun, though, she’s sharp. She told me she caught on during that camping trip a few months ago. I thought she was imagining things, but she was spot on.” You blush, realizing you definitely need to talk to Jieun about this. “As for Soyoon, she and I had a bet on whether you’d end up with Namjoon or Yoongi because they seemed like more likely options than Jimin at the time. I was Team Yoongi, by the way. But… I guess we both won, so…” You both burst into laughter.

Hwasa's eyes light up with mischief. “Oh, but Soyoon did not see this coming at all! She was convinced you’d end up with Namjoon only. She told me he couldn't stop yapping about you to her whenever they’d hang out. You should have seen her face when she saw the photos! Her jaw literally dropped. She was in complete shock.”

You giggle, imagining Soyoon’s expression. “I can picture it. I guess I have a lot of explaining to do.”

Hwasa grins, “You do, but take your time. They’ll understand. And if anyone gives you trouble, they’ll have to deal with me first.”

“Thanks, Hwasa. I really do appreciate it.”

“Anytime,” she says, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Now, you better tell me how this all began. Every detail. Even the nastiest ones! You’ve got liquor in the kitchen, and I can get Hoseok to provide some weed on the house.”

A good smoke session sounds perfect to loosen up and spill everything.

You nod, then yell, “Hoseok!” He comes running from downstairs, looking confused.

“Give us the good stuff,” Hwasa says with a wink, beckoning him to bring the weed he keeps in a closet next to his room.

“As long as I can join for a bit too!” He smirks back at her, which she returns as well.

You both look at them, shaking your head.

Oh god, this is gonna be a long night.

–

Along with dating, other things that you are all initially worried about eventually start to fall into place.

Yoongi ends up finishing the mixtape he’s been working on for the longest time.

He submitted the best one out of all his peers, which means Professor Kang fulfilled his end of the bargain, writing him a letter of recommendation, and sending his mixtape to Mr. Bang. He said he’d never listened to such an innovative and unique collection of music and held Yoongi in high regard.

“Mr. Bang reached out to me!” Yoongi announces excitedly one afternoon in mid-May, holding up his phone for you to see. “He says he wants to do a Zoom call and talk business!”

You take his phone and read the email on the screen: “As I know you are still studying at X City University, it may be difficult for you to relocate to LA on such a short notice for the summer, but I’d like to potentially offer you a 3-month internship with Bighit Records. You can work remotely for now and then come into the LA office for the last few weeks of the internship. We will discuss more during our call. I don’t want to miss out on having a talented individual with growing potential join our label.”

You pause, stunned by the news. “Holy fucking shit, Min Yoongi! I told you that you could do it!” you exclaim, rushing to hug him.

“Like I said before, it’s because you had faith in me and gave me your love as motivation.”

Blushing, you kiss him on the cheek. “Stop, you’re being so cheesy!”

Yoongi laughs, pulling you closer. "Cheesy, but true."

When the other Beta Sigma boys hear the news, they immediately announce they are going to throw Yoongi a party to celebrate his achievement. Hoseok excitedly proclaims he will supply the alcohol, while Taehyung promises to buy the weed.

“We’re going all out tonight!” Hoseok declares, setting alcohol bottles down on the kitchen counter. “Only the best for our future music mogul.” That night is probably one of the most fun parties of the year.

–

Jimin, too, finds his groove. He wasn’t sure what other goals he had besides trying to get his business degree. He knows that either he or his younger brother would have to start running his dad’s bakery one day. But before that, Jimin’s dad wants him to become a prosecutor…which Jimin wasn’t completely keen on doing.

But there is one thing he does like: dancing. Aside from majoring in business, he is minoring in dance just because it lets him have an outlet to explore his long-time passions. Working for a corporation after graduating seems like the next big move, but for someone like Jimin, he thrives in creative environments more than a boring office.

He’s been doing dance covers since high school and uploading them on YouTube.

Recently, a few of his dance performances with Hoseok started gaining recognition. This led to him asking Jimin to perform in the college dance team’s performance for the university’s end-of-the-year culture fest, as well as choreograph it. He was initially nervous, as he hasn’t done something like this in so long, but you and your other two boyfriends attended his rehearsals, supporting him and cheering him on.

After he killed the performance amazingly with his fellow dancers, Jimin has new aspirations in mind.

“I talked to my parents earlier, more specifically my dad,” Jimin says, laying his head on your lap and looking up at you. “Told him I want to take dance seriously and make it my career.”

“Oh? What did he say about that?” you ask curiously, your fingers running gently through his hair.

“He was a little hesitant at first. You know, trying to nicely say it’s not financially stable.” You hum softly at his words, understanding the concern. “But then he said I could work an office job and dance at one of those professional dance studios during my free time. When I’d make enough, I could leave that job and stick to dance.”

You smile down at him, admiration shining in your eyes. “That sounds like a good plan to work towards. At least he’s supportive, even if he’s worried.”

Jimin nods, a small smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, I’m glad he didn’t outright dismiss it. I just need to prove to him—and to myself—that I can make it work.”

“You can do it, Jimin. You’re an amazing dancer. With your talent and determination, there’s no way you won’t succeed,” you say, your voice filled with conviction. “You’ve made it this far after all.”

He reaches up, taking your hand in his and squeezing it gently. “Really? You think I could aim for 1Million Dance Studio?”

“Pfft.” You say, grinning. “You are the Jimin Park, after all. Son of the famed Magnate Bakery’s Hyunsoo Park.”

“This is one of the many reasons I love you, babe. Thank you.” He laughs, an angelic sound that fills the room, and cuddles further into your lap, making you laugh at his clinginess.

–

As for Namjoon, he has switched his study abroad program to the summer instead of the fall semester. Being the (slightly) possessive boyfriend that he is, he can’t bear being away for that long. Especially this early on in the relationship when he is worried other guys would try to get at you. But you reassure him that it won’t happen, Jimin and Yoongi are with you anyway.

Despite you rarely seeing Jaebeom around after he got the biggest hint that you already had… others, Namjoon sometimes worries you’ll sway.

One evening, as you sit together in your cozy living room studying for finals with Taehyung, Jungkook, Hoseok and Jin, Namjoon brings up his concerns. "You’re not gonna randomly break up with me… or all of us while I’m gone right?" he asks, his voice tinged with unease. "What if Jaebeom tries to get at you again? Or Mingyu? I know he’s such an attractive guy and you–"

You interrupt him mid-rant and take his hand in yours, squeezing it reassuringly. "Namjoon, you know I love you. I love Jimin and Yoongi too. You don’t have to worry about anyone else getting in the way. And besides, these Beta guys will keep protecting me too, right guys?"

Taehyung looks up from his notes and grins. "Absolutely! No one's getting past us!"

Jungkook nods vigorously. "We’ve got her back, Namjoon. Always."

Hoseok chimes in, flashing a bright smile. "Yeah, don’t worry. We’ll keep all those weird frat boys, international students, and businessmen away."

Jin, ever the voice of reason, adds, "You’ve got nothing to worry about, Namjoon. It’s literally summer session too, who the fuck is going to be around here anyways."

Namjoon smiles, albeit a bit shyly. "I know, I know. It’s just me being paranoid.” He lets out a sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxing. "Thanks, guys. I mean it.” 

Taehyung chimes in, hitting you with his elbow, “If anything, our little Honey should be worried that her boyfriend won’t find another pretty girl while he’s in Korea.”

You playfully roll your eyes, nudging Taehyung back. "Oh, please. Namjoon is too obsessed with me, reading books and looking at art to notice anyone else."

"Very offended you would even think I would do that, Tae." Namjoon narrows his eyes at him, smacking him on the shoulder. "I’m only going to Korea to study at Yonsei, and I’m taking a really cool contemporary art class taught by a famous art conservator and historian. Plus, there’s this student organization I want to join that focuses on integrating art and social change. That’s what’s going to keep me busy."

Taehyung laughs, rubbing his shoulder. "Ah! Okay, okay, I get it. Mr. ‘Studious Foo’. Never mind."

Not long after, Yoongi and Jimin come home carrying bags of BB.Q Chicken and a selection of Korean beers they picked up from H-Mart downtown. The enticing aroma of fried chicken fills the room as they unpack the boxes, revealing an array of golden, crispy goodness as well as sides of white radish in cups and french fries. One box contains your favorite: Soy Garlic flavored chicken, a perfect blend of sweet and savory that you always have to make sure Yoongi orders instead of the original flavor. The other box holds Yangnyeom chicken, coated in a vibrant red sauce that provides a sweet and spicy kick that Jungkook and Jimin are obsessed with. You all gather around the dining table, the spread of chicken and cold beers inviting you all to indulge. The clinking of bottles and the sound of laughter fills the room as everyone settles in. Yoongi pours the beer, its crisp, refreshing taste pairing perfectly with the rich flavors of the chicken.

As you start eating, Namjoon begins to share details about his upcoming study abroad program. He speaks animatedly about his itinerary, his eyes lighting up with excitement. 

“That sounds really cool, Joonie,” you say, genuinely happy for him. “You’ve always been so passionate about art and using it to make a difference, so I’m glad you have the chance to discover more about that.”

"Thank you my love," Namjoon says, his smile growing. "It's a dream come true, really. And I promise, I’ll keep in touch as much as I can. Video calls, texts, everything."

Jimin, who has been quietly listening, chimes in, "We'll make sure she’s too busy to even think about other guys, hyung. Don't worry about that."

Yoongi smirks, giving Namjoon a playful nudge. "And we’ll show you proof too.”

These nights—eating delicious food, savoring Korean beers, and sharing laughs and dreams with your closest friends—are moments you cherished deeply. 

However, there is a bittersweet realization looming: Hoseok and Jin are about to graduate. Soon, these carefree gatherings will change. The thought tugs at your heart as you look around the table, capturing the smiles and laughter etched into your memory. You silently vow to hold onto these precious moments, knowing they will become even more precious with time.

– 

About two weeks later, Jin graduated from college. The whole house attends the ceremony, each of you holding flower bouquets or some sort of gift to congratulate him. It is a hot afternoon, sun blazing throughout the 2-hour commencement ceremony while the friends and families sitting on the bleachers are excited and proud.

After the ceremony ends, you all gather down on the soccer field. Jin’s brother, mom, dad, pregnant sister-in-law, and nephew have already arrived to congratulate Jin. 

Namjoon, who has been unusually secretive lately, suddenly opens a decently large case he had brought with him. Upon opening it, he pulls out his old saxophone, the one he hasn’t touched since high school. He immediately starts playing it, a catchy tune filling the air. Everyone turns to him in surprise, especially Hoseok.

"Why on earth did you bring that out after so long?" Hoseok asks, his eyebrow raising in curiosity.

Namjoon grins, positioning the saxophone and taking a deep breath. "It's a bet I made with Jin during his freshman year," he explains. "I told him that if he actually graduated on time, I'd serenade him with the 'Epic Sax Guy' song from the 2010 Eurovision."

The group bursts into laughter, Jin included, who is now shaking his head with a wide smile. "I can't believe you remembered that," He says, amusement clear in his voice.

Namjoon continues to play, and all of you around him can’t help but laugh and cheer, clapping along to the music. Jin is doubled over in laughter, tears streaming down his face as he watches his friend fulfill an old, ridiculous bet.

Jieun approaches you, wearing a white dress under her graduation gown, her eyes filled with concern and curiosity. She glances at your three boyfriends, who are behind you, laughing and teasing Jin. He looks both amused and embarrassed by the attention he's receiving from people around him after Namjoon's serenade.

"You think you'll be okay, Honey?" Jieun asks, her gaze shifting from the boys to you. Her question is gentle, but her eyes are sharp, taking in every detail.

Your cheeks redden. "I still can't believe you caught on to everything months before anyone else, Jieun."

She grins, a twinkle in her eye. "Of course. Nothing gets past me! Just wasn’t sure whether I was understanding things right." She jokes, giving your arm a light squeeze.

You smile at her, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "But to answer your question, yeah, I think so. We've got a good thing going, and we'll make it work."

Her expression softens, and she steps closer, pulling you into a hug. "I’m glad. I really do think you guys are meant for each other. Just like soulmates."

Soulmates. The word resonates deeply with you. All of the signs from the past just point out to that after all. It just took a little longer for you and them to realize it.

You’re pulled from your thoughts as Jieun continues, shifting the conversation.

"I'll be moving in less than 24 hours to LA to start my first job in entertainment next Monday. You better come down and visit me, alright?" She gently pokes your cheek, making you giggle.

"Oh woah! I will!"

"And don't forget about what I told you back in April. If you’re still interested, I’ll help you get there."

You nod eagerly, feeling a surge of determination, before you're interrupted by Soohyun, Hwasa, and Soyoon, who come over to bombard Jieun with their congratulatory flower bouquets.

As you watch the joyful scene, you can't help but reflect on your own future. After all, your boyfriends had started thinking about their careers, it makes you realize that maybe you should start getting your shit together as well. You are now their girlfriend with the potential to become their wife, which leads you to talk to Jieun, who was a senior in your department, about your future. Your career.

As a psych major and theater minor, her goal is to go into the entertainment industry and become an actress or go into hospitality in this field. And being a business major and psych minor yourself, hearing her stories about her internship from last summer made you realize you want to consider getting into this industry as well. Jimin and Yoongi will be involved in it due to dance and music, and Namjoon will be consequentially also in it due to working in art, so it will make sense. Maybe this is something you will start looking into as you approach your last two years of college.

As the day draws to a close, you find yourself standing with your boyfriends, the warm glow of the setting sun casting a golden hue over the soccer field. Jin’s friends and families surround him, laughter and chatter filling the air. Namjoon wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.

"Ready to head home and party?" he asks, his voice soft and comforting.

You nod, feeling a sense of contentment settle over you. "Hell yeah!"

++++++++++++

June 21 [Friday]

The sun is scorching as you stand outside feeling the summer heatwave pound down on you. However, your relief for quenching your thirst is suddenly gone as your hand lets go of your iced peach tea. You stare blankly at the building in front of you.

“You’re… going to lease an apartment for all four of us?” You manage to word out, turning back to look at Namjoon and Yoongi in shock.

Namjoon now sports a buzzcut, a new look he wanted to try after seeing how stress-free Sanyawn was with his own buzzcut. The change suits him well, and he looks undeniably hot. He’s wearing a slightly ill-fitted navy blue shirt that shows off his toned arms and a pair of khaki shorts, perfect for the summer heat. His new haircut accentuates his strong jawline and expressive eyes, giving him an edgy yet clean appearance.

Yoongi’s hair has progressively gotten longer, with some locks now cascading down to his shoulders. You were always used to his hair being side-swept or even in a bowl cut, but this new length is more than alluring. Dressed in a loose white linen graphic tee and jorts, Yoongi exudes an effortless cool despite the weather. The longer hair frames his face beautifully, highlighting his sharp features and giving him an almost ethereal doll-like look.

Jimin stands beside you, his hair now a striking blonde. He always talked about dyeing his hair but was hesitant to take the plunge until last week when Jungkook spontaneously decided to help him do it. It could’ve gone really badly, but it turned out incredibly well. He looks prettier than ever, the blonde contrasting perfectly with his warm skin tone. Jimin is wearing a white t-shirt and ripped jeans, a playful and stylish summer outfit that complements his new hair color.

“Uh, I mean, why not? We’re dating after all. Think it would be better for us.” Yoongi shrugs, walking towards the side gate entrance of the apartment complex and going inside. Jimin helps grab your sad, empty plastic cup on the ground and throw it in a nearby bin. You just got it on the way here and were barely halfway done with it. Nonetheless, the three of you follow along behind him on this self-guided apartment tour. 

“But…what about Beta Tau Sigma? The house?” Your words sound sad. “Are we not living there even after Seokjin and Hoseok graduate?”

You were only there for a little less than a year, but managed to become so much closer to the guys who you’d only share a few words with and maybe some small talk prior to living with them. What’s going to happen to them now? The house being two stories and having 4 rooms made it rather expensive to live in, especially in the area you are in. With 8 people living in it, there wasn’t much difficulty in getting the bills paid, and still having enough for other things like tuition and whatever fun stuff we had. 

You’ve been working in the library since your freshman year, and while you didn’t talk about it much, the guys had jobs to contribute to the costs as well. Namjoon works at a local art gallery near campus with San Yawn. Jimin works at the Admissions building and does campus tours to visiting students (which usually always charms them to enroll). Yoongi does freelance producing work for some studios in the area. Taehyung works late nights at a jazz club while Jungkook works reception at the gym. Hoseok is a dance instructor at a local community center and Jin… Jin doesn’t work. His rich parents have been really supportive to help provide for the other expenses.

“They’re planning to move out sometime in January. Jin just graduated and Hoseok is graduating in December. They don’t know if they’ll still be around, so Taehyung and Jungkook won’t be able to cover all the costs on their own. They’re looking to rent an apartment here too.” Namjoon adds.

A silence falls as the reality of things changing settles in.

“Can’t believe this is the end of Beta Tau Sigma…” Jimin mumbles, which doesn’t go unheard by the rest of you guys.

“For now. If things start looking good for us post-grad, maybe we’ll rent a new house together that’s even bigger. It was feeling a bit cramped in the last few months, not gonna lie.” Namjoon puts an arm around you, “But for now, we need some privacy…” He smirks at you, which makes your eyes roll.

“What he wants to say is that we can’t fuck you on the kitchen table at the BTS house.” Yoongi bluntly says, making you choke on your spit. Namjoon and Jimin begin to hit your back, which makes it worse with multiple hits.

“Hyung!” Namjoon and Jimin yell at the older man, who shrugs. 

“Oh my god…” It’s an understatement to say you are feeling half nervous and half horny at the thought of being fucked on every surface of your new home by your three boyfriends. Are you even going to survive that?

After a couple of months of being together, most of those times you’ve taken turns having sex with all three of them. At times, maybe one boyfriend would be in the room watching you and another getting it on. But as they mentioned, it’s not particularly easy to have sex as a group when you live with 4 other guys. Keeping quiet is not a simple task. You could’ve sworn you overhead Taehyung saying to Jimin and Jungkook that he got off of the sounds you and the guys were making one of those nights. And maybe you haven’t been able to look him in the eye since!

“You guys know I’m up for anything,” you say with a grin, giving them a thumbs-up, which earns you bashful smiles in return.

"Give it a few weeks while Namjoon is away, and you're all ours," Jimin teases, winking mischievously. “You know what an Eiffel tower is?”

“I–”

"H-Hey, that's not fair!" Namjoon protests, though his smile betrays his playful spirit.

After Jimin’s teasing comment, you all decide it is time to go check out the new apartment. 

Upon entering the place itself, you are greeted by a spacious living room with large windows that let in plenty of natural light. The kitchen is modern and sleek, and there are three bedrooms, one for each of your boyfriends. The best part is the balcony overlooking the pool, a perfect spot for late-night talks and relaxing evenings.

“This place is beautiful!” you exclaim, twirling around in the living room. “You guys did great!”

“We thought you’d like it,” Namjoon says, grinning proudly.

“We should start moving in right away,” Yoongi suggests, already planning how to arrange the furniture. “Makes things easier before we start to get busy this summer.”

You nod excitedly in response, which makes him lean in close to you and kiss your temple.

A part of your heart breaks knowing that you won’t be back at that house on a daily, but no matter what, you’re ready for a new beginning with your soulmates.

–

Over the next couple of days, you all work together to move in. It’s a whirlwind of unpacking boxes, arranging furniture, and hanging up decorations. Namjoon proves to be surprisingly meticulous, insisting on organizing the bookshelf by genre. Jimin and Yoongi spend hours setting up a cozy corner with bean bags and a record player.

Finally, with everything in place, you all decide to celebrate with a pool party with friends at the apartment complex. The sun is shining, and the air is filled with the sounds of laughter and splashing water. 

This is truly what life is.

“Uugh~” 

“Fuck baby, stay still while I fuck your tiny pussy.” Namjoon whispers as he lifts your ass to thrust at a better angle. You are currently trying to balance yourself with your noodle arm on the couch as Yoongi enters in and out of your mouth and you use your other hand to pleasure Jimin’s cock. 

You were enjoying the party not long ago, and then once it ended, they immediately came back in with you, locked the door and closed the blinds. You guess the black swimsuit you bought really enticed them through the day. 

Now you’re being overstimulated to the brim. Your body is going to ache tomorrow for sure.

“This fucking bikini… Were you trying to kill us?” Yoongi chuckles, his hips are moving more frantically now, chasing his orgasm with little regard for how obvious his movements are. 

“So fucking slutty wearing that in front of the guys.” Namjoon moans quietly. “Let me breed you before I leave you to Yoongi and Jimin.” He snickers, making you whine as your cheeks heat up. Not long after the first couple of times with Namjoon, you found out he has a size kink, a breeding kink, and a slight degradation kink. It’s so interesting to see the contrast from being a golden retriever on a normal daily basis.

Namjoon pulls out and snaps his hips back into you, burying himself inside you over and over again, his movements make your brain go fuzzy as he uses his knee to push your legs further apart, from this angle he reaches deeper inside you, his fat tip prodding at your cervix. He presses his large hand right above your womb to feel himself moving inside, the feeling sends you over the edge as well, and your walls squeeze him, robbing him of all breath. 

“Shit..” Is all he manages as his climax hits him unexpectedly, you feel him spill inside you painting your walls white. Yoongi follows, making you swallow the cum as Jimin paints your tits with his own.

+++++++++++++

July 9th [Monday]

A few weeks later, Namjoon is in Korea, settling into his study abroad program. It has been years since he was last in Korea, back when he was just a kid before he moved to the US. Now, as he overlooks the sprawling Seoul skyline from his dorm window, he can’t help but think about how much his life has changed since then—especially after meeting you, his next-door neighbor. He often daydreamed about bringing you here one day, showing you all the places that meant so much to him. He’d start with Ilsan, his hometown, then Daegu, where Yoongi was from, and finally, Busan, where Jimin’s mom currently lives.

But those daydreams will have to wait. 

For now, he has to focus on his studies and then think of the future. Namjoon opens his planner, filling it with various assignments he has received for the semester. He makes a note to visit the National Museum of Korea in the coming days for one of his assignments. As he glances at the date, he suddenly realizes something important.

“July 10th here… Wait… July 9th. It’s baby’s birthday in the States,” he muttered to himself. “Damn, I was so busy getting settled here that I almost forgot.” Just as he is about to panic, his phone buzzes with a video call notification. It’s you.

Wasting no time, he answers the call, looking forward to seeing your face after a few days of not seeing it virtually.

But it isn’t your face, it’s Jimin’s.

“Hi Hyung! You didn’t wish our baby happy birthday earlier so…” He switches the camera view, showing Namjoon what appears to be you, receiving backshots from Jimin as you suck on Yoongi’s dick. “We wanted to show you what you were missing.”

Eiffel Tower.

Namjoon's eyes widen as he watches the video. He can’t believe what he is seeing, but a small smile creeps onto his face.

Jimin passes the phone over to Yoongi, who holds the phone close to your face, showing his dick going in and out of your mouth.

“Fuck…” Namjoon's hand slowly inches inside his sweatpants, palming his cock slightly.

“Baby, show your daddy how good you’re taking me,” Yoongi said seductively.

You smile playfully, your eyes locked with Namjoon's eyes on the phone. You slowly take Yoongi's dick deeper into your mouth, swallowing and pulling back before starting all over again. Jimin and Yoongi sigh contentedly, their eyes never leaving yours.

Namjoon watches, mesmerized by the sight. His heart races as he stares at the beauty of your body, your lips wrapped around Yoongi's dick. 

He feels a wave of longing and desire wash over him, making him pull out his own dick to stroke it as he watches you be taken by his two best friends.

The sound of your moans and their groans fill his ears as he continues to watch. His mind races with thoughts of the three of you together. 

Jimin and Yoongi's bodies move in perfect harmony with each other, their sweaty skin slapping against your soft lips. Namjoon's own cock twitches in his hand, unable to hold back his own arousal any longer. He wonders if the three of you are thinking of him as he watches, if you are fucking with the intention of sharing your pleasure with him.

Namjoon eyes widen as Yoongi sets the phone down, propping it up so Namjoon can get a full view of you being fucked and Yoongi making out with Jimin.

He can see your body arching, Yoongi's dick sliding in and out of you as you reach down to stroke Jimin's dick. Jimin moans into Yoongi's mouth, his own hand moving faster on his own cock. The sight of you pleasuring the two of them is more than Namjoon can take. 

He begins stroking himself faster, desperate for an orgasm.

As you begin to scream, Yoongi and Jimin follow suit, their orgasms filling the air. You collapse onto the bed, panting, as the three of them kiss and cuddle. Namjoon's own orgasm hits him like a freight train, his eyes locked onto the screen as he comes, his body shuddering with pleasure.

Fuck.

He needs to get through this semester abroad, make connections, come home and take care of you all for the rest of your lives.

“Happy birthday, baby.” He huffs before you wave with the laziest and most fucked out smile ever.

“I m-miss you.” You say before Yoongi ends the call to continue whatever he and Jimin have planned for your birthday night.

++++++++++++

September 6th [Friday]

“What are your thoughts on having kids?”

You nearly choke on your water, sputtering and coughing as you set the glass down. 

“Kim Namjoon!?” you manage to say, eyes wide with surprise. It hasn’t even been a full week since Namjoon returned from Korea, and here he is, bringing up such a huge question out of nowhere.

Namjoon looks at you with a calm, thoughtful expression, leaning back on the couch with Jimin and Yoongi on either of his sides, eating snacks while catching up on One Piece. “I’ve just been thinking a lot, especially after being away. I mean, it’s not like I’m saying we should have kids right now… or ever, but... I’m curious about your thoughts on it.”

You blink, still processing the sudden shift in conversation. “Well, honestly, I don’t really want to have kids…”

You’ve never had motherly instincts or felt like a caretaking figure. You have a younger sibling, but you’re only a few years apart in age, similar to Jimin and his brother or Namjoon and his sister, so it doesn’t require you to take on much responsibility. Plus, the things you’ve read online about pregnancy heavily scare you. You refuse to do it.

Silence proceeds, making you a little nervous. “I… Uh, could we opt for cats?” You suggest, giggling awkwardly.

“Okay but…” You start, knowing you’re gonna regret even saying this. “Maybe… just maybe… I’ll consider having one child. You guys just have to rock paper scissors that.”

Namjoon chuckles, his eyes softening. “If that’s what you want, sure. As long as we get three and we each get to name them.”

Yoongi smirks, leaning back. “I call for naming one Gyul!” You remember it means Tangerine in Korean, and it fits Yoongi’s vibe perfectly.

Jimin’s face lights up. “I’ll go with Marimo, like the moss ball,” he adds, making you laugh at the thought of a fluffy cat named after a plant.

You take a deep breath, feeling a bit more at ease. “Okay but…” you start, knowing you’re going to regret even saying this. “Maybe… just maybe… I’ll consider having one child. You guys just have to rock paper scissors for that.”

“Really?!” Namjoon’s eyes widen, excited by the potential.

The room erupts in laughter, the tension dissipating. “Rock paper scissors to decide who gets the honor, huh?” Yoongi grins, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “I guess that’s one way to settle it.”

“Let’s decide now!” Jimin’s competitive nature kicks in, and he’s already positioning his hand for the game.

“Wait, wait!” You laugh, holding up your hands. “We’re still in college! Let’s give it several years for us to get settled with everything and our careers–”

“What about marriage? That can happen sooner right?” Yoongi’s eyes gleam with curiosity and a hint of excitement.

You blink, taken aback. “Marriage?”

You’re not gonna lie. You have thought about this one.

It would be difficult to get married to all three of them in a country where polyamory isn’t…legal. And there’s also the whole thing with Namjoon, Yoongi and Jimin’s parents being Korean and religious. That would most certainly give some or even all of their families heart attacks. So what were you thinking would be a good solution to this.

Legally marry only one of them.

And surprisingly you already have someone in mind for this.

“Your face is telling us you have thought about it.” Namjoon chuckles.

“What!? No way.” After cleaning the spill from earlier, you turn to sit on the loveseat, holding your bag of Lay’s Sea Salt & Vinegar chips with your glass of wine. These are your go-to snacks after all… well right after the Banana Kick Korean Cheetos that your local H-mart ran out of.

“So who did you have in mind, or are we also playing rock, paper, scissors for this?” Jimin wiggles his eyebrows playfully.

“I have someone in mind, but I’m not gonna say yet!” You say, then eat your chips. “I don’t think I’ll change my mind, but you can always try to win me over…perhaps.”

Namjoon chuckles, leaning forward. “You’re really going to keep us in suspense, huh?”

Yoongi smirks, nudging Namjoon. “Better step up your game, Joon. Looks like you’ve got some competition.” He gestures to himself and Jimin.

Jimin laughs, popping a cheese ball into his mouth. “Challenge accepted. Just wait and see, Y/N.”

Is this really going to be another virginity race with them? 

You roll your eyes at their silliness. "I do not want to see this turn into a competition again, guys. So let’s just go with the flow. This is a democracy!" you declare, trying to maintain a light-hearted atmosphere about this before they start a fight over this.

Namjoon leans back comfortably on the couch, his expression thoughtful. "Fair enough," he concedes, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "But you know we're all going to do our best to win you over for this."

Yoongi chuckles softly, leaning in closer. "That's right. We'll make sure you know why we're the best choice," he says with a playful smirk.

Jimin nods eagerly, reaching for the wine bottle on the coffee table to refill his glass. "You can count on it," he chimes in, his gaze lingering on you with affection.

Outside, the last rays of sunlight filter through the curtains, painting fleeting patterns on the floor. The evening breeze rustles the leaves outside, a gentle reminder that time continues to move on. Inside, amidst the comfortable familiarity of your new shared space with your boyfriends, you take a moment to savor the scene, knowing there’s more to this love story with your soulmates for years to come.

–

Fin.

–

–

–

Hi everyone. I just want to thank you all for reading this fic since it was released almost one year ago, August 29th, 2023. As I mentioned before, I had actually thought up this fic on May 29, 2020 and fleshed it out a little more on May 26, 2021. I have a whole character chart on activities/personalities/etc and the first half of chapter 1 up until Yoongi and Reader got ready to go to the Gamma Party. Though, I never got to writing more than that as I ended up getting hired for my first job after college not long after. Last year I got laid off from said job, but there were many issues that had me on thin ice and burnout. Sometimes I wonder if I should've stayed longer and carried on with it. But nonetheless, this leads me to a lot of great small opportunities I’ve found in the past year through networking and meeting amazing people in the music industry. It also gave me time to be like, “I guess maybe I could go back to writing this fic now that I have too much time on my hands…”

I have written fics in the past, but never managed to finish any series. Well, there was an Attack on Titan fic with several thousands of reads on Wattpad, but i will not comment on this further haha.  So this was truly my return to writing. It’s funny because I had initially not planned the fic to end up this way. Yoonminjoon have been my bias line for the last 4 years, so I knew that’s the delusional focus I wanted. But definitely had various drafts and plans that could’ve gone differently. But to spoil you on some of those initial ideas…

The original fic plan had more emphasis on Jaebeom throughout the story as  (somewhat) an antagonist that would be dating Reader until Yoonminjoon would realize their feelings throughout the story and eventually snatch her away not long after the first 4 chapaters. Jaebeom was my GOT7 bias for a long time before I fell out of the fandom.

not an initial idea but aside from the poly / fwb stuff, there were a lot of events in this fic based on things that happen to me when i was in college a few years ago. i somehow had a pretty wholesome experience, but did have many guy friends than girl friends in college so that did help me in relationship dynamic writing

Other notes I had from 2020 drafts: [Joon, Jimin, Tae and Y/N work at Joon’s family coffee shop on the weekends. Yoongi goes back home sometimes to help his mom at their family restaurant, but mostly works as an underground composer and sells beats. Hobi works on campus in the library. Jin is...rich. Koo works at a chicken place.] Obviously most of this did not happen in this fic, as mentioned earlier in this chapter with changed job responsibilities. Though the one job mainly mentioned in the story was Reader working in the library.

Had more smoking, (light) drugs, etc. use involved. It’s mainly alcohol and weed, but even then it wasn’t heavily done which makes me want to go back and add more of this later on.

Not really initial notes but age/year timeline in this fic for anyone confused

Seniors: Jin, Hoseok (graduated high school early)

Juniors: Namjoon, Yoongi

Sophomores: Reader, Jimin, Taehyung, Jungkoo

Jimin cheating on Irene to get with Reader

I really wanted to do this because I wanted Irene to be more involved in the story, but that would make it too messy and dragged out. I would’ve had to make this story like 25 chapters if that were the case. 

Also I don’t personally think Jimin would cheat on his gf in this fic or irl, so I didn’t want to write him like that. I had to break them up before he could do anything else.

Jackson 

was supposed to be a bigger character in the series… but i accidentally did reduce him to “Jackson the party host”... but at least he’s Hoseok’s close friend  and show up often

Jin

I wanted to tie in more of the frat activities and dynamics in this fic as BTS is an unofficial frat on campus and he’s the leader of it, but I honestly don’t think was too important and could take away from the actual story

Jin was supposed to kick out Reader from the house as her relationships with her best friends got too messy and complex, though he didn’t want to do it.

Jihyo

Jihyo was supposed to date Namjoon longer and break up with him during the party where Reader ran into Yeonjun. Timeline should’ve been: Namjoon is at the TXT frat party with Jihyo -> Namjoon fights Yeonjun to protect reader -> Reader is shocked and upset -> Jihyo is confused and Namjoon comes clean about his feelings for Reader -> Break Up -> Namjoon confesses to Reader 

I also wanted Jihyo to send the “confession” text to Reader regarding what Namjoon said at the Gamma Party much sooner, so when she saw Namjoon at the TXT frat party, she would know everything. But I couldn’t find a way to tie it in earlier during her fight with Yoonmin. Very messy stuff.

I thought Jihyo was the best choice as Namjoon’s side “love” interest in 2020/2021, but once all the Namjoon and Soyoon friendship photos started coming out, I kinda of abandoned Jihyo and changed my focus to Soyoon.

Soyoon

Soyoon takes on the side girl best friend role that Jihyo would’ve eventually had

Soyoon was supposed to date Namjoon briefly, but it was too messy to write in, so I just made Reader have initial suspicions before the truth came out in Ch 8

Reader and Namjoon weren’t supposed to sleep together after the Yeonjun fight. Soyoon was supposed to act as a wingman for Joon so he could apologize to Reader and then they would have their first time in the library. But I wrote things definitely so it wouldn’t end up like that.

Jungkook 

Jungkook was supposed to be closer and more clingy to Reader. They have a close relationship, but I felt that it interfered with other things in the story, so I left it with the mention that he had a little crush on her and would hang out with her often.

Jungkook is the end game if Reader didn’t end up with Yoonminjoon. (hehe)

Namjoon

If there was only one end game from Yoonminjoon, it would’ve been Namjoon for obvious reasons.

If Reader ran into Namjoon right after her fight with yoonmin, that would’ve changed everything and lead him to be end game. I discussed with Rae about these through texts after I dropped Ch 8.

Yoongi

Initially planned for him to not be caught so soon by Jimin, but honestly, didn’t want to drag it out and didn’t know how to tie it better

Should’ve been more Yoongi smut scenes

I don’t know when or if I’ll ever write another series as it’s very time consuming. But for the LUL universe, I still have the LA LA LOST YOU prequel with Reader’s relationship with Yeonjun almost done. IDC (i don’t care) is another series I’ve been thinking of releasing filled with WHAT IFs~ (...Reader picked Namjoon, Reader picked Yoongi, Reader picked Jimin, Reader picks everyone in Beta Tau Sigma?, Reader slept with Jaebeom at the party, etc.). But all of that will have to wait. Let me know your thoughts in the meantime though!

Until then, thank you for all your support, and hopefully we meet again.

With luv, @melancholy-of-nadia

➸ let me know what you think OR join the taglist for future works! ➸ love u lately series masterlist

[nebulablakemurphy]

Moves & Countermoves (Part 16)

Summary: No one ever wins the games, even fourteen years later, Y/N is still playing.

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

It is cold and dark, woken from a peaceful slumber to run. Everyone around them is yelling, it’s always scary when grown ups yell.

They are scrambling now, tripping over each other in haste, to get to the woods. A place they’ve been forbidden to go.

“Come on, baby. Keep up.” His aunt insists, in a voice that sounds so like his mother’s. His mother.

“What about my mom and dad?” Everest asks.

“We’ll see them soon.” Madge tells him.

The sky opens and rains fire.

“You said we had an hour.” Gale shouts, over the commotion.

“They must’ve launched the fleet out of district eleven.” Everest’s grandfather calls back. “Get to the woods.”

He is a quiet man. Even tempered, he does not yell; yet he is yelling.

“Dad!” Aunt Madge tries to catch him, but her hands are full.

Full of Arista and me.

“Captain goes down with the ship.” He is gone, lost in the smoke, never to return. A debt paid for the lives he saved.

“No!” Everest wants to go back. Run to him, change it, but he can’t. Someone is holding him still, shaking his shoulders.

“Everest.”

His mother. But she isn’t here. She couldn’t be.

“Shh, shh.”

Mom. The boy startles awake, in their new living quarters of district thirteen. Just a dream.

The baby is crying, he must have woken her too.

Still his mother is there, rocking him gently, smoothing down his hair. “I’m here, you’re safe.”

Everest clings to her, watching as she uses a foot to push the bassinet from side to side. Quieting his littlest sister.

Daisy May.

A child wrought into the world through his mother’s blood, sweat and tears. She cries like it pains her to be separated from the woman who’s given her life and he does not blame her.

“Here, you can come lay with me.” Y/N offers, it is hard to be in two places at once.

Everest climbs into her bed, the spot left vacant by his father. The doctors are trying to make him comfortable, while his body adjusts to the lack of alcohol.

To the victors go the spoils.

————————————————————————

Morning comes much too early, signified by the shifting brightness of lights, rather than the sun.

Everest and Arista leave with Madge for school. There aren’t many children here in thirteen, most teachers have been made useful elsewhere.

This is one of the few things she has allowed, over their three weeks underground, hoping it will help the children acclimate.

Y/N sets her daughter down, in the makeshift bassinet, causing the infant to wail in protest.

“Just for a minute, just for a minute.” She’s coos, pulling on her jumpsuit as fast as she can. Even showering has proven difficult without the extra set of hands. Without Haymitch.

“Civilian Abernathy.” One of the guards call from outside the door.

“She’s fine.” Y/N assures him, finishing up the last of her buttons and tossing the baby sling over her head. Reaching down for the infant, she situates her gently. The silence is instant.

“Happy to hear it. Your presence is requested by President Coin.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. If it’s not one president it’s another. She opens the door to find the same man who’s been keeping an eye on her since arrival. “It’s not on my schedule.” She holds out her forearm, showcasing the printed timesheet.

“Your schedule will be revised to compensate the time.”

“Perfect.” Y/N forces a smile. “Any idea what this is about?” She follows him down to the elevator.

“I’m just here to escort you.” He draws the large metal doors closed around them.

“Ever had anybody jump?” They must be thirty stories up.

The soldier shifts. “Are you thinking about it?”

“No,” she shrugs, “just making conversation.”

They reach their destination and the gates plunk open, “charming.”

The rest of their trek is silent. He opens the door and then closes her inside to stand watch. Leaving her to the wolves.

“Y/N, thank you for meeting with me.” Alma Coin says, seated at the long rectangular table. “Please, have a seat.”

“She likes it better when I stand.” Y/N says, patting the child on her chest as she approaches the table.

“Of course.” Coin nods, “you look well.”

“I’m weller than I was when I got here.” Unconscious and hemorrhaging from birth complications.

Plutarch smiles. Hello again.

“I was glad to hear that you’ve received a clear bill of health from our medical team.” Coin runs the tip of her pen over paper as she speaks.

“So the therapist you have me meeting with is just for fun?” Y/N cocks her head to the side.

“For anyone to endure the level of psychological abuse that you have seen and still persevere…you are an inspiration to us all.”

Y/N swallows hard. What do you want?

“Even still, we feel it’s beneficial for you to continue your sessions with Dr. Aurelius.”

“Any word on extracting the victors being held in the Capitol?” Peeta. Johanna. Annie.

“Rest assured, we are working around the clock to find a safe and effective way to liberate the other victors.”

Y/N nods, bouncing lightly from one foot to the other.

“I hear Haymitch is nearing the end of his withdrawal process and will be assimilated into the general population in the next few days.” Coin continues.

Another nod.

“I understand how delicate this subject may be for you, but if you’d like to keep separate quarters-”

“Why would I do that?” Y/N demands.

Plutarch clears his throat. Alma Coin is about to step over the line and finally understand why Snow kept such tight reins on his Capitol darling.

“Given your history.”

“History?”

“This can be a fresh start for the both of you.” Coin replies, softly. “Dissolve the marriage, with custody arrangements for the children.”

“I don’t want to dissolve my marriage.” Maybe there was some version of her that did. A casualty of war, buried long before his babies grew inside her.

“This is all you’ve known since you were nineteen. I can see how the idea of leaving would be intimidating.”

“You don’t know half the hell I’ve been through, or what Haymitch had to do for me to be standing in this room today. If you did, you wouldn’t be insinuate that this ‘arrangement’ is something I want.” Y/N’s chest heaves, anger boiling in her veins.

“Forgive me.” President Coin concedes, “I didn’t mean to offend you, it was only an offer.”

“I appreciate the thought, but it won’t be necessary. If that’s all-”

“There is one more thing,” Alma is not yet finished, “in regards to Katniss.”

Leave her alone. “Katniss needs more time.”

The president steeples her hands. “I wish we had that to offer, unfortunately the revolution has grown stagnant. We need to fuel this fire, otherwise we might be waiting another seventy-five years.”

“What do you want her to do?”

Now Plutarch takes the floor. “We’d like to shoot a series of propaganda, I like to call them propos. Ideally, we would use you and Katniss in tandem. The districts will follow Katniss, but the Capitol will follow you.”

We would use you. “Can I talk to her first?”

“Please do.” This is a clear dismissal.

————————————————————————

“Sorry I’m late.” Y/N is all but panting when she reaches her husband. Past the rooms harboring Cashmere, Finnick, Katniss and the other patients of thirteen.

He stops bouncing the muted green ball off the wall, catching it in hand. There’s not much to do down here, especially in what feels like solitary confinement. The good doctors are all concerned with his fine motor skills. Haymitch simply tells them, ‘they’re fine.’ Somehow they don’t find this funny.

He gives his wife a tired grin. “Word is, you got stuck in a meeting with Coin…anything new on Peeta?”

“No,” Y/N sighs, “she called me in to tell me about her master plan with Plutarch.”

“Ah,” Haymitch chortles, “do tell.”

“They wanna use Katniss to appeal to the districts and use me to rally support in the Capitol.” She plops, unceremoniously, onto his bed, shoes and all. Removing the baby from her carrier when she begins to fuss.

Thirteen’s jumpsuits are nothing to write home about, but easy enough to open and nurse at a moment’s notice.

“I can think of a few reasons as to why it won’t work.” Haymitch sits at the foot of his mattress.

“Lay it on me.”

“First of all, Katniss can’t act. Not to save her life.”

Y/N lifts a shoulder, “maybe she’ll do better with practice.”

“I think it’ll be harder than they’re expecting. Especially now, without-” Peeta.

“Yeah,” Y/N looks away.

“What else is wrong?” He knocks her knee.

“Coin offered to dissolve our marriage.”

Haymitch shifts, “and what did you say?”

“I told her to fuck herself.” Y/N says, with a hand over Daisy’s ear. “Nicely.”

At this he smiles, “good. I’m glad we’re both in agreement.”

Y/N reaches for his hand. “You look really good today, Haymitch.” Healthy. No longer trembling or in pain, from lack of alcohol.

“You too.” This separation thing is brutal. They’ve never been apart like this since before they were married.

Y/N can’t run down, at any hour after a nightmare, to crawl into his bed. Same way she couldn’t sit by his bedside and comfort him, when he needed it most, because their children needed her.

“Don’t do that,” he chides.

“Do what?”

“Don’t cry. Don’t.” He moves in closer, putting an arm around her, with Daisy nursing between them.

“I just miss you.” I wanna be with you.

Haymitch inhales, deeply. “When I get outta here, I’m gonna be so far up your ass-” This earns him a laugh, so he keeps going. “You’re going to be sick of me.” I wanna be with you too.

————————————————————————-

“Katniss.” She is in the same place Y/N left her. Alone in her room, with her mind out to sea.

The girl says nothing, acknowledging Y/N with a glance as she rolls Peeta’s pearl between her fingers.

“I was hoping we could talk.”

Katniss pauses to consider. “I stayed with you.”

“Hmm?”

“I stayed with you and slept in that stupid chair by your bed for three days, before they made me leave.”

“Katniss.”

“They took Haymitch first, when his headaches got too bad. Madge took the baby and it was just us.” Katniss recounts, “I thought you were gonna die.”

Y/N runs a hand over her dark hair, loose from its braid.

“Then you got up and kept on living, like nothing happened. Like Haymitch wasn’t drying out in some facility, like the bombs never went off, like the games never happened and Peeta isn’t gone.” Katniss says, “but I’m not like you, I can’t do that.”

I hope you don’t end up like me, Katniss. “Can I show you something?”

Katniss nods.

“This is a trick somebody taught me a long time ago. I think it might help.” Y/N holds out a hand.

Katniss mirrors her.

“I feel everything right in my chest. All my pain, worry, anger; it always starts right there.” She gently rests her hand over her heart, just above where her child sleeps, content in her sling.

Katniss follows, placing a hand on her own stomach.

“I just hold it there and think.”

“Think about what?”

“What I’m going to do with those feelings. Sometimes all I can do is feel them. Other times I can channel them into something else, something good.”

“Haymitch taught you that, didn’t he?”

‘That’s where it hurts, huh? Right here?’ Haymitch rubs at the ache in her chest.

That was a lifetime ago. “He did.”

Katniss allows her hand to fall away. “I can’t forgive him.” Not yet, maybe not ever.

“I’m not asking you to.”

This stuns Katniss, eyes wide, searching.

“I do want you to remember that he cares about you and he cares about Peeta. Leaving him behind isn’t something he wanted. It was a choice we had to make; the Capitol fleet was within firing distance. We took a hit and we still circled back, but Peeta and Johanna were already gone.”

“I didn’t know.”

“How could you know?” Y/N replies, ruefully. I wasn’t here to tell you.

Katniss blinks at her.

“I had a meeting today, with Plutarch and President Coin.”

“What did they want?”

“They wanna use us, namely you, to fuel the revolution.” Y/N cuts to the chase, “I’m no stranger to being used, but I have found that if you play your cards right, it can be mutually beneficial.”

“Beneficial how?” She wonders.

“Help us get Peeta back and take down Snow.”

————————————————————————

“It’s been a week since our last session. Any changes? Anything specific you’d like to talk about?”

Y/N sinks back into the chair. “My son’s been having nightmares.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Dr. Aurelius jots this down. “About anything in particular?”

“The bombs, district twelve, losing his grandfather.” My dad.

“This was your father, correct.”

“Yes.”

“And what about your husband’s family?”

“They were killed before I met him.”

“Killed?” This is news.

Y/N nods, “Snow had them killed as a punishment for how Haymitch won his games.”

“That must have been hard.”

“That’s not my story to tell.”

“Tell me your story.” The doctor crosses one leg over the other.

“Which one?” Y/N picks at the bed of her thumbnail.

“The real one, if you feel so inclined.”

“I’ve never told anyone.” Not even people I’ve known for years.

“There’s a first time for everything.”

“I don’t even know how to tell it.”

“Try.” He says simply.

“Well, I was born in district twelve, to my mother and father. My dad was the mayor and my mom…” My mom- “they both grew up in town.”

“What does that mean?” There is an implication he doesn’t understand.

“In district twelve,” which doesn’t exist anymore, “only the merchant families live in town.”

“They’re wealthy?” He deduces.

“By comparison.” Nothing like a victor’s salary.

“To what?”

“People from the Seam.” Y/N explains, “where Haymitch grew up.”

“I see.”

“The first few years, I was close with my mom’s sister, her name was Maysilee.”

“Was she lost in the bombing as well?”

“No.”

“How did she pass?”

Don’t you watch the games down here? “In the Quarter Quell, same year Haymitch won.”

“Did he kill her?”

“Come on, doc, the story’s not that twisted.” Y/N shakes her head. “They were allies.”

Part 17

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