#and it has to do with their contracts as often the ones its been seen with (notable mily cyrus) have had contracts that dictate their

[beomiracles]

⌞ 𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐘'𝐒 𝐁𝐎𝐘 ⌝

DREAM RECALL “You know what I think of you?” He says, the bed squeaking as he leans forward, dangerously close. “I think you’re scared.” He drawls, eyes boring into your own with such vigor that you almost felt pity for the anger that consumed him. How miserable he must be to live like that. — “I’m not scared.” You calmly state, shifting against the pillows as you instinctively try to create distance between the two of you. Quickly taking note of your hesitant body language, he smirks, “no? Then prove it.”

“Prove that you’re not afraid of the darkness, of my darkness.”

wc -> 17k (oopsie daises)

pairings stepbrother!beomgyu x stepsister!reader warnings stepcest, daddy issues, some mommy issues, character death, emo/punk!beomgyu + he has an eyebrow piercing, major asshole!beomgyu, mentions of alcoholism, lots of arguing, angsty as shit but with a happy ending, talks of grief and letting go, smut (again, stepcest), virgin!reader, loss of virginity, softdom!gyu but he's also a menace, guilt ridden sex, unprotected + pullout, handjob + vaginal fingering, some cum eating, use of "sis" both outside and during the smut (I cannot stress this enough), might be teetering on the edge of dubious consent at some points but nothing crazy. dead dove do not eat

#serene adds ✎ I have no clue of how this happened lol. PLEASE read every single warning I am begging you. don't read this if as much as one single tag made you waver. ⎯ aside from like the fact that it's stepcest, I fucking love this whole fic. I'm so proud of it and I would actually cry if someone (who got through it) would be up to share some thoughts :>

“There’s still time to turn back..” You mutter as you lean against the leather of the passenger seat. Listening to the bustling engine slowly dying out as the car comes to a stop. “Come on princess, don’t be like that.” Your dad sighs as he retrieves the key, turning it between his fingers. “You knew that this move was coming and-“ — “Yeah, I did. But not this soon, not now.” You argue, folding your arms across your chest in defiance. “You could’ve at least waited until I was out of college, until I had gotten my own place.” 

More than anything you wished to be able to change your father’s mind, to turn things back to how they were before he met Ms Choi. But that was of course impossible, and now you were paying the price for not getting a room on campus. “But look on the bright side, it’s a mere fifteen minute drive to school, and Beomgyu has his license, I’m sure he could take you someday.” Your dad tries, a small smile on his face. — You grimaced at the name, your chest churning in disgust at the mere thought of sharing a car with that thing. 

A tap to your window makes you turn your head in its direction. There stood Ms Choi, she sends you a small wave and before you know it, your father had climbed out of the vehicle, leaving you to sulk. Their voices are muffled through the thick glass but you can see them enveloping each other in a tender hug, your dad leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek. With a small grimace your gaze flickers to the small bracelet around your wrist, its fine silver glinting in the sun and your chest contracts slightly. You supposed you should feel happy for him, it had been a long time since you’d last seen your father so at ease, so in love.  

And it wasn’t like you didn’t like his new girlfriend, no you were quite fond of Ms Choi. She was nice, often bringing freshly baked cookies whenever she came over, remembering your favorite foods as she made them when you visited. Most importantly she made your dad feel things he hadn’t felt since the passing of your mother. — You just couldn’t understand how such a sweet woman had managed to raise such a being of a son. 

Beomgyu was far from anything his mother represented. He was loud, obnoxiously so, his foul mouth going off every other second, spewing his hatred for the world and the people in it. Beomgyu listened to deranged music, the kind that made your ears bleed. He blamed his father for all his problems, not to mention taking his pent up anger out on his sweet mom. — The black charcoal around his eyes represented that of the rotting darkness slowly eating away at his soul, and you wondered if Beomgyu had always been angry. Perhaps he came out like that, you were almost certain that he was a menace even as a small baby. 

You had been to Ms Choi’s house a handful of times. It was a small two story flat, neatly decorated in light and inviting shades and smelled of roses. Had it not been for the first room to the right on the second floor, you would’ve probably loved it there. — The small hallway is familiar as you stumble inside, a heavy suitcase clutched tightly in your grasp. “Oh dear, let me help you with that”, Ms Choi fusses as she reaches for your bag but you merely shake your head, “I’m fine miss, don’t worry”, you assure her. 

She turns to your dad who was carrying at least twice your baggage as he walked up the dainty pathway leading to the house. “Beomgyu ought to come down and be of some assistance”, she murmurs as she throws a glance over her shoulder, her eyes traveling up the staircase by the end of the hall. — “I’m sure we’ll be fine!” You quickly chirp, dreading the thought of having to deal with him so soon. But there was no changing Ms Choi’s mind as she immediately calls out for her nuisance of a son. 

You swallow thickly as an eerie silence follows, your dads girlfriend huffs out a short breath as she fiddles with the jewelry around her neck. “Beomgyu! Come down here!” The nervous edge to her voice was palpable and part of you took pity on the sweet lady for being stuck with such a being in her house, no less as her biological child. 

Soon the floorboards above you creak, the old house immediately giving away the presence of someone else on the top floor. You tried tearing your gaze from the stairs, but it seemed impossible as Beomgyu’s figure emerged. His step is heavy as he drags his feet across the floor, his hair had grown longer since last you’d seen him, and that was over four months ago. You often did your best in avoiding him, thus leading the two of you to meeting less than a dozen times during the two years in which your parents had been pursuing one another. Well to hell with that plan now, you thought. 

“Hi darling, why don’t you say hi to-” — “I know who she is.” He cuts her off, sparing you a mere side glance before his gaze shifts to your dad struggling with the suitcases, a look of distaste on his face. “A-Alright”, Ms Choi clears her throat as she motions toward your father, “why don’t you help bring their stuff inside.” She receives only a small huff from her son as Beomgyu pushes past the two of you to venture outside. You don’t miss the flicker of disappointment on his mother’s face. No matter what he did, she would always cherish and protect him. You couldn’t understand why. — She turns to you with an apologetic smile, “your room is down the hall to the right.” 

The stairs felt eternal as you pulled your suitcase up, intent on not needing any extra hands. And when you finally reach flat ground, you heave a sigh. Though the comforting peace was short-lived as the thumping beat of a heavy bass filled your eardrums, the sound overpowering that of the wheels on your suitcase as you rolled it along the wooden floor. With a frown you near the first door, it was slightly ajar, allowing for the ear piercing music to float out into the small corridor. Already familiar with the layout of the house, you recognized the room as Beomgyu’s, and as the owner in question was currently downstairs, you dared a small peek. 

You can’t remember actually being inside his room, merely passing it in search for the bathroom as the first floor lacked one. And it was unlike anything the rest of the house represented. It was messy and crammed. The once cream white walls were covered in a variety of posters portraying his favorite bands, one of which you guessed to currently be playing through the large speakers by his desk. — His bed looked as if it hadn’t been made in weeks, possibly months and he seemed to be making good use of his floor as an alternate wardrobe. His computer was on as well, the bright light of the screen catching your attention in the otherwise dim room as the curtains drawn prevented much sunlight from reaching through. 

Upon closer inspection your eyes widen as you realize what kind of video was playing. The almost naked woman in the footage emits a pornographic moan and your jaw slacks as you take a couple of steps back in complete disbelief. — The room was like a tainted mark left on an otherwise clean canvas. The black lungs of a smoker, rotten and decaying. The only flaw in an otherwise picture perfect home, and you would’ve probably pitied the poor soul living here had it not been Choi Beomgyu. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” 

The raspy voice sends a shiver down your spine as you twist on the spot, coming face to face with the inhabitant of the room you’d invaded. Beomgyu lingers in the doorway, your discarded suitcase lazily kicked to the side as his brows furrow, the glinting metal on one of them catching your eye, had he always had that piercing? — You gulp, fists clenching before relaxing again. 

“I uh…I was.. I was looking for my room..” The excuse was petty, and you knew he could tell by the way his lips pulled into a small grimace. “Well this certainly isn’t it.” He spits, taking a charging step forward and you feel yourself immediately faltering back against his desk. — “Out.” He grits, and you could’ve sworn you heard the way his teeth ground together as his jaw flexed.

Not having to be told twice, you quickly slip out of the room, the door being slammed shut on your ass in a mere second. “What a dick”, you mutter, though you supposed it was somewhat deserved as you went in his room without permission. — Your own bedroom, on the other hand, matched the rest of the house. It was small, barely fitting your bed and a study desk, but the window gazing out over the front yard was remarkable. Your fingers graze along the lace curtains as you think of the multiple ways in which you’d be able to decorate the tiny space. Perhaps living here could become somewhat bearable, you thought. 

⸝⸝

No. You quickly found that it would become most unbearable to thrive under this roof. Dinner was awkward. As awkward as it could possibly get. The air was dense, laying on top of your table like a thick blanket, enveloping your party of four in a stale silence. The sounds of silverware scraping against porcelain plates fill the dainty dining room. Every bite felt like a piece of rock sliding down your throat and no matter how hard you trained your gaze to the cut piece of meat in front of you, Beomgyu’s eyes felt like daggers on your skin. Was he still mad about earlier? 

“So, Beomgyu, I hear you’re about to start your senior year as well.” Your father clears his throat, turning to the younger male with a small smile. Beomgyu’s gaze finally shifts away from your near sweating figure and over to your dad as he sends him an almost unnoticeable nod. The statement made your eyebrows raise in surprise, he was a year older than you, shouldn’t he have graduated before summer? — Beomgyu answers your unspoken question in a bored sigh, “failed my last year.” 

“Oh but he’s worked hard to be able to retake his classes this upcoming semester!” His mother suddenly butts in as she places a hand on top of your father’s. You watch their small exchange before your eyes flit over to Beomgyu who looked almost disgusted at the close proximity your parents held. Of course he would be against it, you wondered if there was anything that didn’t make his nose scrunch up in disdain. 

“Then perhaps the two of you can study together?” Ms Choi suddenly exclaims as she looks to you with an expression best described as hopeful. “Your father tells me you do well in school.” — “Of course, my princess is in the top of her class”, your dad boasts as he flashes you a small grin. You sheepishly nod, cheeks reddening at the sudden attention directed your way. “Why, isn’t that an amazing idea, Beom?” His mother cheers to which her son grimaces, “wonderful.” 

You didn’t like Beomgyu. And you thought you had every reason not to. You had never met someone so completely disregarding of other people’s feelings. Someone so selfish and arrogant, someone who took so much for granted. Like his mom. — You supposed you envied him a little. Ms Choi was such a wonderful person, not to mention an amazing mother. You often found yourself reminiscing of what you’d lost when in her presence. But Beomgyu seemed to hold little affection for something you longed so desperately to have. — You remember the evening clearly, the first night you met, two years ago. 

Dinner was awkward even back then. 

You’re sat gathered around the very same table, in the very same seats. Back then you had a small crush on him, on Beomgyu. How could you not? He was everything you weren’t, everything you thought you wanted to be. The expressive t-shirt he wore, a band you didn’t recognize, but you guessed it to be some type of rock. His slightly baggy jeans, decorated with a few simple chains. Dark hair, though it was shorter back then, and of course, the liner around his eyes. It was impossible not to be drawn to him. But he didn’t look at you, not once. 

You helped your dad clear the table whilst Beomgyu accompanied his mom in the kitchen as she prepared dessert. “What do you think of her?” Your father asks with a hopeful smile. You knew that he was nervous about introducing someone new to you, and Ms Choi would be the first woman he’d seen since your mother’s passing. You weren’t oblivious to the fact that your approval weighed like a ton of bricks on your dads shoulders, and you didn’t want to let him down. 

“She seems sweet.” 

He sighs, a relieved sigh. “Do you like her?” You ask, unable to hide the small frown on your face. Your father remains silent for a moment, his hands busying themselves with stacking the plates on top of one another. “I do”, he nods, his face immediately lighting up as he sees your small smile. But before you get another word out, the voice of Ms Choi pierces the quaint house. 

Neither of you move, but the conversation between Beomgyu and his mother was no longer private. “Well if that’s how you really feel, then perhaps you’ll find your father’s place a more suitable living space.” Ms Choi exclaims, her voice is thick, as if on the verge of breaking at any given moment. A brief silence follows her words, and you hold your breath.

“That piece of shit lowlife?” Beomgyu suddenly seethes and his mom quickly interrupts him. “Don’t call him that.” She sounds almost pleading. — Her son chuckles and if you had been able to see him, you would guess that he was shaking his head. “You still let him get away with all the shit he’s done?” — “Oh come on, you know it’s not like that, Beom..” 

“He’s an asshole, mom.” Beomgyu finally states, his voice holds no resentment, in fact it barely holds any emotion at all. “And you, you’re both naive and stupid for thinking he’s anything else.” — Then he re-emerges from the kitchen, not sparing either you or your father as much as a second glance as he heads for the front door, it slams shut behind him, leaving the faint sobs of Ms Choi to echo through the small house. 

Your dad rushes to the kitchen, but you remain frozen in place. His small whispers of reassurance carry out into the dining room as he tries to comfort the crying mess that was his girlfriend. Your eyes flit between the small opening to the kitchen and the hallway; feeling more than conflicted as you gnaw on your bottom lip.

After a few moments of hesitation, you finally come to a decision as you tear yourself from your spot by the since long vacant table. Quietly, you retrace Beomgyu’s last steps and you, too, push the heavy door open. — The cold night air hits your bare arms making you wrap them around yourself as you begin walking down the gravel pathway. You really had no idea of where he might’ve gone, or how you were even supposed to find him. But as you push the squeaking fence gate open, you know that you won’t have to look far. 

Perched on the sidewalk, knees tucked to his chest, Beomgyu leans his chin on top of his folded arms. Drawing in a small breath, you muster up the courage to do what you had come out here for. — He doesn’t say anything as you take a seat beside him, mimicking his actions by pulling your knees to your chest as you wrap your arms around them. You weren’t exactly good at comforting people, but you knew what sadness felt like, it was all you had been able to feel for three months after your mother’s death. 

“You here to fuckin’ lecture me too?” He spits, his gaze is fixed on the asphalt road in front of him. Perhaps Beomgyu’s sadness was different from yours. You shake your head, though you’re unsure if he can even see it. And for a moment, everything is silent. There was a nervous feeling bubbling within your chest, you didn’t know if it was because of your small crush on him or because of the argument you just witnessed between him and his mom. The argument sounded stupid in your ears, and it got you wondering.. 

“Why do you hate your father?” Your words ring out in the quiet night air, and somewhere to your left, you feel Beomgyu shift against the concrete sidewalk. You guess he hadn’t expected the question. — “‘Cause he’s a piece of shit.” He huffs, though his voice lacks the spite it held when in discussion with his mom. Nibbling on your bottom lip, you frown. “But he’s still your father, isn’t he?” 

Beomgyu might as well have laughed in your face. He shakes his head, one of his hands ruffling through his dark hair before he lets it fall to his side. “That changes nothing”, he states. You were tempted to disagree, it changed everything, didn’t it? To hate someone, to hate someone so close to you, someone so important.. You don’t think you could ever hate your father. 

“Have you tried talking to him?” Perhaps it was a stupid proposal, but in truth, you were at loss for ideas. Beomgyu snorts, his worn out sneakers kicking a few small rocks as he lets them roll out across the street. “You can’t talk to someone like him, and even if I could, I would have nothing to say to him.” — He draws in a sharp breath, holding it for a good moment before he slowly lets it go. “Some people..” he begins, his fingers picking at a few strands of vegetation that had managed to seep through the cracks of the constructed road. “Some people don’t deserve to have kids, some people shouldn’t have them.” 

You’re silent after that, unsure of what to say. He was right, some people were not meant to be parents. You wondered what his dad could have possibly done to warrant such hatred from his only son. It felt wrong to pry, so you didn’t. He would tell you one day, when he was ready, at least you thought so. — “But your mom is–” 

“My mom is stupid.” He spits, his expression suddenly turning sour. You didn't like how Beomgyu spoke about his mother, or how he spoke to her. “She doesn’t understand how fucked up dad is, and she still defends him despite everything he’s done.” — He bites the inside of his cheek, his brows furrowing together as his gaze remains ahead. “She’s truly pathetic.” 

Your chest churned at the statement. And perhaps your relationship with Beomgyu would’ve turned out different, had you not said your next words. But you couldn’t help it, and you didn’t regret it either. “At least you have a mother.” It angered you. It angered you that he treated people so close to him with such hatred. Did he not understand? Not everyone had the privilege of seeing their mom everyday, not everyone got to feel her warm embrace, eat her food, have her kiss your cheek. 

Beomgyu’s hatred was selfish. He was selfish. Because you would have done anything to see your mother one last time. — He turns to you, and for the first time that night, he looks at you. “And that makes you so special?” His gaze narrows down on you, the dark liner around his eyes only makes his expression look twice as gloomy. “You think you’re the only one who’s life is shit just because your mom went and died?” 

His words stung, like salt on a fresh wound, slowly being rubbed in. You fight back the tears that were prickling in the corners of your eyes. You just wanted to help. But you were obviously not very good at comforting people, still, you thought that he might’ve been at least a little understanding. How idiotic of you. Beomgyu rises to his feet, giving the gravel beneath him one final kick as it flies everywhere. 

“Don’t think you know the first thing about me just because you’ve heard me and my mom argue once.” His expression darkens even further in the pale night, and you swallow a small sob. “And don’t for a second think that we have anything in common, or that you have the right to talk to me like that.” He snaps, hands digging into the denim of his jeans, the chains on them rattling as he does. 

“It’s not my fault your mommy died, but let me give you a piece of advice yeah?” He leans down, his face inches from your own and you resist the urge to pull back, instead blinking up at him as a nasty sneer casts over his features. “Get over it.” 

With that, he straightens himself back up, letting out a small scoff as he turns on his heel before venturing down the street. — Beomgyu didn’t come back home that night, Ms Choi told you so, you didn’t know where he went, you didn’t care. From that point on, you hated Choi Beomgyu, you hated everything that was him, everything that reminded you of him. But most of all, you hated anything that made you feel like he had made you feel that night; the night he’d left you on the street to sob in your hands. 

⸝⸝

Your first official night under Ms Choi’s roof felt weird, it didn’t feel at all like home, maybe because it wasn’t, or maybe because you laid in bed with the knowledge that Beomgyu was only a room away. — It was dark, the soft glow of the moon seeping through your lace curtains. You had yet to fully unpack, your small night lamp long forgotten about in one of the boxes downstairs. The room smelled weird too, it didn’t smell like home, like mom. 

Despite it being years since she passed you often found resolve in venturing inside your parents room, the room that smelled the most of her. How you would let the tips of your fingers trail across the smooth bed sheets as you imagined her sleeping form. — The first months after her passing you even found yourself going through her old clothes, trying to keep anything that carried her scent close. But even the house itself held her presence, her laughter echoing off the walls, her soft hum as she prepared dinner, her cheerful voice as she skipped down the stairs. 

This house did not hold a single trace of your mother, she was truly gone. Your dad had moved on, he had fallen in love, he’d stopped being miserable, he no longer cried for his deceased wife in the darkest hours of night. Did that make him a bad person? You wanted to hate him for leaving your mom behind, even though she was technically the one who had left you. You wanted to tell him that he should never love a woman that wasn’t her. But you couldn’t. And you wouldn’t. — Your father was happy now. 

Perhaps Beomgyu had been right that night. Perhaps you should get over it. Perhaps you should’ve gotten over it a long time ago. But you didn’t want to, because getting over it meant letting go, letting go of your mom, and you didn’t want that. She was your mom.

Your fingers instinctively reach for the bracelet around your wrist, fiddling with the silver anxiously. This was your last piece of her, your last line, the string that still connected you to her. — You treasured it dearly yet you couldn’t but feel almost melancholic whenever you turned the jewelry around in your hands, an immense wave of sadness washing over you as the small piece kept reminding you of what you’d lost. 

You shake the tears away, sitting up as you lean against the bed frame. You wouldn’t cry tonight, you wouldn’t allow that. Instead your mind wanders down the hall, down to the room on your left. You wondered what Beomgyu was up to, was he already asleep? Maybe he was feeling restless too.. “What the fuck”, you scoff, shaking your head at the glimpse of sincerity you cast his way. Having already gone through with that mistake once, you would be sure to not make it again. Beomgyu didn’t deserve your sympathy. 

He didn’t deserve anything. 

⸝⸝

The following weeks went by in almost a blur. Your dad and you got settled in quickly, and with the help of Ms Choi, you now had a wildflower blooming by the sill of your window. Not to mention the pink rug you had so carefully picked out as you laid it in the center of your room. — But happiest was probably your father. It was sweet, seeing how giddy he got whenever the new woman in his life was around, you liked watching him fall in love. And without you even realizing it, the small house soon began to feel like home. 

Even you and Beomgyu got along fine, if getting along was what you could call it. You had silently conducted a small routine which was to be strictly followed by the two of you. It helped ensure that you wouldn’t have to run into one another more than absolutely necessary. — First, you always used the bathroom at seven. He was never up by then and you enjoyed having free access to both the shower and toilet as you took your time getting ready for the day. 

Second, your rooms were strictly prohibited areas, under no circumstances were you allowed to step foot inside his personal space, nor was he to do so in yours. That didn’t change the fact that he would continuously blast his ear screeching music so loud that the floorboards thumped in rhythm to the beat. Nor did it change the way you threw your hairbrush against the wall in an attempt to get him to shut up, not that it ever proved successful. 

Third, and perhaps the most important one; you did not know each other outside of home. Senior year in college started about two weeks ago, and within the four confined walls of the school building, you and Beomgyu were nothing but mere strangers. Not that the same couldn’t be said for the way you treated each other back at home. Which leads you on to another unspoken rule, the rule that made your parents believe that you got along just fine. 

You think it was said last rule that made everything come crumbling down one October night. 

“A whole week?” You splutter, your fork slipping from your grasp and hitting the porcelain plate in front of you. Ms Choi makes a small grimace at your blunt shock but quickly masks it with a smile, “yes, me and your father were thinking..” — “Come on princess”, your dad interrupts, leaning forward ever so slightly. “You’re more than old enough to sit the house for a week, besides, we’ve been meaning to get some alone time.” He sends you a look that practically screams, “don’t fuck this up for me, alright?” 

With a small groan you nod, “yeah it’s alright I suppose.” But it wasn’t, in fact it was far from it. This meant that you would have to spend a full seven days, locked up in the same house as Beomgyu, with no one to save you. “Is this what people call dark humor?” You mutter, though not loud enough for anyone to pick up on, at least you thought they couldn’t. Opposite you, Beomgyu’s lip twitches as his tongue prods against the inside of his cheek, his fingers playing with the rings on his hands; clearly not oblivious to your small comment. 

“I’m sure they’ll be fine”, Ms Choi adds in a most lighthearted tone. Your dad slowly nods as his gaze flits between you and Beomgyu, watching as you both turned to shoot him a small smile. 

⸝⸝

“And don’t forget to lock the door, oh and I’ve written down all the emergency numbers on a piece of paper plastered on the fridge, and there’s–” — “Dad, I’m fine.” You take his hands in yours, giving them a light squeeze and your father grins, “right, sorry princess.” He throws a quick glance over his shoulder to where Ms Choi was waiting by the car, having already shared a most quick farwell with her son. 

“Go, I’ll be okay”, you sigh as you urge him toward the door. “Alright, alright, just promise to call if anything happens.” He pleads as he ruffles your already disheveled hair due to the amount of hugs he had insisted on. You give him an affirmative nod as he steps out. “Love you, princess!” Is the last thing he gets out before you close the front door in his face, worried that you might never have him leave if you didn’t. The hallway quickly becomes enveloped in a near deafening silence, the emptiness of the house palpable. But the short-lived peace would soon be disrupted. 

“Fuck, are you fourteen or twenty?” Beomgyu jeers as he leans against the doorframe leading into the living room, arms folded across his torso. He’s dressed in a pair of loose jeans that hung low on his waist, and had it not been for the even baggier t-shirt thrown on his chest, you would’ve probably caught more than a glimpse of his stomach. The piece of jewelry on his eyebrow glints in the faint morning light as he sends you a small frown. 

It was too early for any of his snarky remarks, you thought as you swallowed a deep breath. Just ignore him, don’t bite back, that’s what he wants. But as you watch his conceding smirk practically double in size at your silence, you find yourself unable to hold back. “Well at least I talk to him.” It was a low blow, and you knew it. You didn’t care, for the way his face dropped, if only for a brief moment, made it all worth it. 

Beomgyu was quick to hide his initial surprise as he shifted against the doorframe, his dark eyes narrowing down on you. “It’s hardly like you’ve got anyone else to confide in”, he drawls, and you bite the inside of your cheek at his subtle acknowledgement of the lunches you spent alone in the school cafeteria. Your fists clench, your anger on the verge of slipping past the weakening brims of your control. 

“You think you’re so much better, huh?” Your angered huff is met by a low chuckle but before he gets a reply out, you cut him off. “I’m not the one retaking a whole year of college, I mean, I knew you were stupid, but this exceeds any of my previous assumptions.” The words slipped from your lips without you being able to stop them, and it felt good, really good. Beomgyu’s jaw visibly clenches at the insult thrown his way, the arms over his chest flexing as his body tensed. 

Feeling almost high off of the harsh remarks, you continue. “Let’s not even bring up your mom. You can barely look her in the eyes, you treat her like absolute shit, and at your grown age too.” — It’s his turn to flare up now, his previously stunned expression immediately morphing into a scowl as he charges forward. “Don’t you fucking dare talk about her in front of me.” He seethes, teeth grinding against each other as he reaches you, his fingers wrapping around the collar of your blouse as he shoves you against the wall with a thud. 

For the two years in which you had known Beomgyu, sorry, been acquainted with, you don’t think the two of you had ever as much as even shook hands, much less hugged. But now his face was only inches from yours, burning with so much rage that you thought you might just combust into a pile of ashes on the floor. His chest heaves, and his grip on your shirt is near deadly as he yanks the fabric up, his taller frame looming over your own. 

You scoff, trying to mask the unease that immediately surged within your chest at his close proximity. “See? Can’t even bring your mom up without you throwing a hissy fit", you jeer. — The scowl once on his lips, slowly turns into a sneer, a sly look emerging on his face, like you had just said exactly what he needed to hear, given him the opportunity he’d been searching for. 

His breath is warm on your already hot body as he speaks. “Well it’s not exactly like you’re any better.” You catch his tongue dragging across his bottom lip, as if savouring the moment, his eyes focused solely on the way your once stoic expression fell. “Can’t even mention her without you bursting out into tears.” — You open your mouth to object, your brows furrowing at the accusation but he’s quicker, shamelessly cutting you off to get his point across. “There’s no use in denying it. Don’t you think I’ve heard you? Crying in your room late at night, crying for your dead mommy.”

His gaze snaps to your wrist, hand darting out to grab ahold of it as his thumb slides across the bracelet resting there. “And this? A souvenir of her death? That’s pathetic.” He cocks his head to the side, a wicked grin spreading across his lips. “It’s like a child sleeping with stuffed toys”, he sneers, letting go of you with a small grimace before his grip returns to the collar of your shirt. 

You hated the way your teary eyes almost immediately gave you away, and you fervently tried to blink them away; much to no avail as Beomgyu chuckled. “Did I hit a nerve?” He wonders, voice laced with fabricated pity. It made you sick to your stomach. — “Sorry, princess”, he coos, but nothing about the way he gripped onto your flimsy blouse made for a convincing apology. Your eyes narrow at the familiar nickname and his smirk only widens. “Isn’t that what your daddy would say? Princess?” 

Hearing the name you treasured so dearly coming from his mouth, the word tainted with his hatred and evil, it made you bite the inside of your lip, hard. “What? Don’t like it?” He hums, his fingers on your shirt loosening, if only slightly as he leans even closer. It was easy to make out the details of his face now, the piercing stuck through the skin of his eyebrow, the area slightly red, as if irritated. The dark charcoal around his eyes, you wondered if he slept in it, probably. You will your gaze to stay locked with his, not daring to glance down at his lips. 

“Then what should I call you? Sis? Sister? Little Sister?” He looks almost as if he’s about to burst into laughter and you wanted nothing more than to slap that disgusting smirk from his face. “I’m not your sister.” You state, refusing to ever be perceived in such a way. — Beomgyu let’s his head fall to the side, his brows raising in a flicker of surprise. “But we’re family now, aren’t we?” 

You close your eyes, thinking that maybe if you just pretended that he wasn’t there for an extended period of time, he might actually disappear. But once you reopen them, you find him still watching you, his smirk stretched so wide that he almost appeared uncanny. “You don’t know the first thing about what makes a family.” You let your words linger in the now very thick air, watching with an almost gleeful expression as Beomgyu lets out a small scoff, though leaning back as he lets go of your shirt. 

“Quit trying to act like you’ve got me all figured out.” Is all he says, his voice now eerily calm, a kind of calm that makes your blood run cold. — “Then quit acting like such a terrible person, and maybe people would start seeing you for something else.” You mutter, your words not intended for his ears to catch, but they do. His gaze flickers over your body, pressed against the wall in an attempt to create as much space between the two of you as humanly possible. 

He shakes his head, his lip twitching as he runs a hand through his long hair. “How about you quit trying to act like you know what makes a terrible person.” — His words leave you silenced long enough for him to make his escape as he heads for the staircase. The last thing you see is his dark retreating figure, the sound of him trudging up the steps filling the house. You slump against the wall, letting out a shaky exhale as you let your eyes fall closed, already dreading the week ahead. 

⸝⸝

To your surprise, day one and two went by like usual, with the absence of your father and Ms Choi of course. You and Beomgyu managed to avoid one another just like normal, and whilst you ate dinner downstairs, he always brought his food to his room. Sometimes it was almost as if you were living alone, you had the whole house pretty much to yourself and you often took the opportunity to lounge by the sofa in the living room. 

After your fight two days ago, part of you had thought that things might worsen even further between the two of you. But if anything, you’d seen even less of him than you usually would and you think you could count the interactions you’d shared with him on your fingers. 

Your whole body feels heavy as your head hits the pillow that night. Four more days, you tell yourself. You could do four more days. All you had to do was keep up the role you’d been playing for the past three days. 

And as you lay in bed, you let your thoughts wander, wander to your dad. The two of you engaged in shorter calls every evening. It was a nice distraction from your otherwise plaguing reality. Your father told you about the beach, the ocean and the seashells; he and Ms Choi were staying at a hotel by the seaside for the week, and you felt your heart swell at the excitement in his voice. 

“You’ll have to come with us next time!” He exclaimed, the powerful winds surrounding him made his words come out jagged on the other end of the line. Still, you thought you were able to make out the faint sounds of waves crashing against the shore as he walked along the water. — “I’d be happy to”, you agree, a small grin playing on your lips at the thought of going on vacation with your dad again, it had been so long. 

Soon Ms Choi joins your conversation, you hear them share a quick kiss before her tender voice addresses you. “How’s Beomgyu doing dear?” She wonders and your smile immediately falters at the mention of his name. You bite your lip, unsure of what to say, did she not talk to him, not at all, not once? — In the end, you settle for something for half a lie and half a truth. “He’s doing fine.” 

Your dads girlfriend exhales on the other line as she thanks you. “Are you two getting along well?” Your father asks, a hint of suspicion following his inquiry. Even though Ms Choi was quick to defend her son, your dad still seemed to hold back when it came to him, if only slightly. “We’re doing just fine.” You lied, not wanting to address just how awkward things were and how you most definitely wanted them to return home as soon as possible. You wouldn’t ruin your dads shot at happiness just to soothe your own worries. 

But as night approaches, the faint glow of the moon seeping through your thin curtains, you find yourself unable to sleep. Though this time, it’s not because of your reeling mind, rather a faint noise coming from the room down the hall and to your left. — During your previous nights, the house had been eerily silent, almost deafening as it added to the feeling of you living there alone. And Beomgyu was not one to play music at such an hour, even though he was likely still very much awake. 

With a small frown you sit up, fingers grasping the bed sheets beneath you as you shift on the mattress. It was near impossible to make out any details regarding the noise, only a hushed sequence here and there could be heard and your frown deepens. But your desire for a full night’s sleep quickly overweighs any doubt as you’re reminded of the early morning class you had the following day, and the bed squeaks as you gingerly climb off of it, quietly venturing out into the dark hallway to face whatever awaits you. 

You’re able to locate the source of the sound as soon as you step out into the dark hall, and your throat goes dry as your eyes seize the door leading to Beomgyu’s bedroom. — The floorboards creak under your weight, making you freeze as you listen for a shift in the noise coming from his room, but he doesn’t seem to have noticed. 

Carefully you creep forward, a hand on the wall to guide you as you near your target. The closer you get the clearer the noise gets, and for a moment you wondered if he was hurt as deep grunt-like sounds slipped through the crack of the wooden door. What would you even tell him? Biting the inside of your cheek, you shake your head. Just yell at him, cause a scene, do something.

Your fingers are wrapped around the door handle when you suddenly stop, your heart practically leaping out of your chest as a small moan reaches your ears. Stunned, you remain frozen in place as you listen to the ragged breathing of Beomgyu, coming from inside his bedroom and your foggy brain slowly pieces together what he was up to. A wave of disgust washes over you, perhaps even embarrassment at having caught him doing something like that. 

It takes you about half a minute to snap out of your initial shock, eyes darting back down the hall as you plan to make your escape, because there was no way you were going to let him know that you’d heard him. But just as you turn around to head back to safety, a deep groan makes you halt. “Mhhn fuck”, Beomgyu grunts, his voice muffled by the wall separating you but you clearly catch the ragged moan following the curse. 

You thought you could make out something else in the far background, a faint whisper of someone else. He hadn’t brought someone over had he? No, that’s impossible, you would’ve known. And soon the all too familiar and almost theatrical moan of a woman pierces the air.

Teeth latching on to your bottom lip, you stand torn, your brain desperately yelling for you to leave, to forget that any of this ever happened, to not pry further and spare your last bits of sanity. But another part of you, a far more sinister one, keeps your body locked in place, making you unable to move neither forward nor back; forcing you to listen as your Beomgyu gets off to some cheap porn video in his room.

You felt dirty just by hearing him, but the other part of you felt something dangerously close to excitement, your heart thumping unmistakably faster as your gaze flickers back toward his shut door. 

“H-ah..” He breathes and you swallow a gulp, sweat sliding down your forehead at the strange feelings swirling inside of you. Your hands clench at your sides, shivers rippling through your body as you hold your tongue, terrified of making your presence known. — He should be ashamed, not you, you had merely passed by, right? So why did you feel so bashful standing here, right outside his room, in the middle of the night, like some creep. 

“Mhhn fucking hell”, he croaks and you screw your eyes shut, desperately trying to erase the images playing in front of you like that of an old film. Images of him, his head thrown back, his lips slightly parted, lidded eyes and his hand… his hand wrapped around– “Oh my god”, you breathe, bracing yourself against the wall as your head falls forward. You had to get out of here. 

⸝⸝

Disgusting. That’s what he was. Not only a loathsome person but a pervert too. And as you walk down the familiar street, your school bag flung over your shoulder, you think of ways to confront him about his behavior. He was in the wrong here, not you. Besides, your request for him to keep it down at night was reasonable. 

The wooden fence gate feels rough under the tips of your fingers as you push it open, your eyes falling on the quaint house before you. The gravel makes a crunching noise beneath your shoes as you near the front door, the lump in your throat only growing in size. — It was such a pretty house, and to think that something so dark resided within its walls made you sick. Still, you unlock the old door and make your way inside. 

The familiar scent of roses invades your senses almost immediately and you take pride in the comforting smell, allowing yourself to just stay for a moment. You knew that he was home already, having spotted his car on your way back, and it didn’t exactly take a genius to figure out where he was currently lounging at. — Discarding your bag alongside your shoes, you begin the small journey up the stairs, not planning on prolonging the inevitable conversation. 

The blaring music fills your ears as soon as you reach the top step and you heave a sigh. You could do this, you wouldn’t back down. — The first knock is petty, weak, barely audible over the heavy bass thumping on the other side. You bite your lip, raising your fist once more, this time you give the wood a harsher tap. But still, nothing. You stand there for a moment, listening to the unfamiliar song playing and you wonder why he felt the need to drown himself in music as vile as that. Perhaps it was to quiet the undeniably gruesome thoughts you could only imagine filled his mind. 

“Beomgyu!” You shout his name, knuckles near hurting as they pound the door in front of you. Finally, the loud melody comes to an abrupt halt and you can hear him shuffling about inside his room, the soft padding of footsteps approaching and soon he reveals himself. — He looks the same as he always did, as he always had. Except he looks…different. You think it might have something to do with what you had heard him do the previous night. Because something was different, something was no longer the same. 

“What do you want?” He spits, the words sound almost like an accusation and you watch as his brows furrow, dark gaze narrowing down on you. Suddenly, you feel your composure crumble, the phrases you’d gone over in your head so many times on the way back home suddenly diminishing to nothing as you stand before him. Your lips part, for whatever excuse you could possibly find but Beomgyu beats you to the case. 

“If you’re here to complain about how you miss your daddy then I don’t give a shit.” 

Your mouth closes again, your brows mimicking his frown as you peer up at him. Is that what he thinks of you? Is that how he perceives you? As nothing more but a crybaby who can’t go a day without her father, who sobs herself to sleep in the absence of her mother? — “That’s not why I–” — “Like I said”, he cuts you off, his gaze hardening, “I don’t give a shit.” 

The grimace painting your face is surely unmistakable and your fists clench as you swallow back the insults waiting on your tongue. “Well I do”, you say, masking your otherwise trembling voice with firmness as you maintain the tense eye contact. Beomgyu appears, if not surprised then at least taken aback, his lip twitching as he lets out a short huff. He folds his arms over his chest, covering the print on his black t-shirt, seemingly waiting for you to continue. 

“I’m here to…to ask you..” You find yourself stumbling over your rehearsed lines, mind fumbling for a way to approach the situation without making it awkward for the both of you. Not wanting him to know that you’d heard him but also wanting him to be aware of the fact that you knew exactly what he’d been up to. — “What I want to say is, please keep it down..at…at night, some of us are trying to sleep you know..” 

Carefully you peek up at him, trying your hardest to subtly gauge his reaction. But Beomgyu only hums, his brows raising in play-pretend surprise as he leans against the doorframe. “Keep what down? It’s not exactly like I’m blasting music or anythin’” he muses. You shake your head, “that’s not what I’m asking, I’m asking you to keep it down when…when y-you you know..” 

The smirk slowly etching its way to his lips should’ve told you everything you needed to know. That he was just looking for ways to push you further, to rile you up and get you flustered, but for some reason it didn’t, and you kept going. — “When I what?” He wonders, eyes flickering over your guarded stance as you awkwardly shift in front of him, letting your weight fall on one leg. “Come on, you know what I mean”, you practically whine, not caring about how immature and childish you sounded as you avoided actually uttering the words out loud. 

“When I jack off?” He asks, his tone nonchalant as his hands slide down the pockets of his already low hanging jeans. You meekly nod, gaze dropping to the floor as your cheeks flush with color. “Y-Yeah that…you’re kind of..loud”, you cough, anxiously crossing your arms over your chest as you clear your throat. 

Beomgyu seems to be considering your words for a moment, his attention fixed on something behind you as he quietly hums. But then he leans forward, his face landing almost inches from your own and you can clearly see the smudged liner around his eyes now. “And you’ve got a problem with that?” He tilts his head to the side, studying you expectantly. 

“Come on now, sis”, he drawls and you cringe, hating how the word sounded on his lips. “You can’t possibly tell me that you’re not twice as loud when you touch yourself.” — The statement made your eyes blow wide as your jaw slacked. Feebly you shake your head in an attempt to deny his accusations. “I- No!” You shriek, taking a small step back as your hands wave in objection. “I don’t– I don’t do stuff…stuff like that..” 

Beomgyu’s smirk widens as he watches your apprehensive response, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. “Stuff like that?” He repeats, the sentence sickly sweet on his tongue. “You mean you’ve never played with yourself like that? How dull.” — You swallow, your throat suddenly feeling beyond parched as you shake your head once more. Was that so bad? Did that make you so different? You’d never understood the appeal, never felt those feelings, never even had a boyfriend. It shouldn’t matter should it? 

So why did it make Beomgyu look at you like that? Like you had just become something completely different in his eyes, something prized, something desirable. “Really?” He repeats, as if unbelieving of what he was currently hearing. Your quiet “no” is met by an even more menacing smirk as his tongue prods at the inside of his cheek. 

“Why, your daddy must be real’ proud of you then”, he grins and you feel your stomach twist. — “N-No he doesn’t care about stuff like that.” Because why would he? He was your father, sure you were close but some things were better off kept private. But it seemed no matter what you said could make the hungry look in his gaze go away and you felt your heart rate increase tenfold. 

Beomgyu merely scoffs, clearly not buying your truths. “Well then your daddy doesn’t know how much of life his daughter is truly missing out on.” — You frown, straightening your back if only slightly as you regard him with a hint of determination. “I’m not missing out on anything, to be frank, I’m quite happy the way I am right now.” You give a short pause, stopping only to give him a quick one over. “Not that the same can be said for you.” 

It feels good to watch his once smug expression morph into a much more scowl-like one as he lets out a short huff. When he doesn’t say anything, you feel a proud smirk crawling its way to your lips and you barely manage to conceal it as you turn to walk back to your room. — Only when you’ve reached your door, does he speak again, and you’re surprised to find him still lingering by his own doorway. 

“Do happy people cry everyday too, or is that just you?” 

⸝⸝

You’re unable to get his words out of your mind and you spend the majority of the following night mulling over them. “Do happy people cry everyday?” Do they? Was crying necessarily a bad thing? People cry when they’re happy too, people cry for a variety of reasons. Some merely sniffle,  some sob whilst others practically scream. Could happiness really be measured in tears or was that just something he’d said to get on your nerves, to have the last word? 

You lay tossing and turning in bed, your blanket bunching up around your legs before you eventually kicked it off again. — If only your mom was still around, she would be sure to have an answer, for she always did.. You nod to yourself as you mindlessly fiddle with the bracelet around your wrist.

Perhaps you were over analyzing his words, twisting and turning something completely meaningless for hours on end. But it was the only way you’d be able to feel at ease. You had a habit of trying to understand things on a deeper level, knowledge comforted you. It was why you nearly drowned yourself in your studies, why you spent so much time indulging in literature or film. It was your escape. 

Part of you supposed you should have Beomgyu completely figured out by now, with the way you memorized each snarky comment of his. But you never did, it felt like you knew nothing about him yet everything all at once. Maybe your knowledge of him was biased. You’d been quick to snap his picture, to paint a vision of him so sinister that you found it hard to view him any differently. — In your eyes, Beomgyu was a selfish and bad person, a person who did not feel empathy nor compassion for others. And perhaps that was why your theories about him seemed to lead you down the same path each time. 

But you didn't think that you were a close minded person… Was there really something you had missed, something you had overlooked? Was there more to Beomgyu than he let on to? 

You don’t have to ponder much longer for a quiet knock to your door rips you from the deep thoughts previously consuming your mind. With a small flinch you shot up from your bed, crawling back against the headboard as your eyes trained on the entryway to your room. For a moment you think it might be an intruder, but what kind of thief would knock? — Not only knock but proceed to open the door without waiting for a reply. You only knew one person so unthoughtful. 

Beomgyu’s shadow is dark, shielded from the dim luminance of the moon mere feet away from him as he stands in the doorway. One step forward would reveal his face entirely, and you find yourself both longing and dreading for him to move. — Why was he here? You guys made sure to avoid one another diligently so why was he willingly ruining it? 

“I can help you.” 

His voice is low, but he speaks clearly. A crease runs along your forehead as your brows pull into a frown. “Help me?” You repeat, the confusion evident in your tone as you shift against the pillow behind your back. Beomgyu nods, taking a bold step forward which casts an eerie glow across the side of his face. Your gaze flickers from his intense and dark eyes to his lips, pulled into a small smirk and your stomach drops. 

You knew why he was here. Because what other motive could he possibly have? — You had seen the way he treated those around him, you had witnessed the effect he had on his mom as she fell to her knees in tears, the way his words had sliced through you like daggers of a knife, shamelessly cutting your barely healed skin. Beomgyu made things around him die, every touch of his was poison, lethal. And now he had come to kill you too. 

It wasn’t like his sudden change in demeanor was unexpected, you knew that he was capable of breaking things, breaking people. He had just never paid you much attention because he thought you were already broken. The death of your mother slowly eating you away as you cried for her each night. — But you can tell he’s had a change of heart, the way his eyes rake across your body, barely concealed by the flimsy pajamas you wore, untainted, untouched, pure. Ready for him to kill. 

“I don’t need your help.” You try to evade him off, convince him that you were no object of his affection. But it was impossible. Beomgyu shakes his head, slowly approaching your bed before he takes a seat, causing the cushion beneath him to dip slightly. — “You don’t even know what I’m about to offer you”, he muses, fingers trailing up your exposed leg and you quickly withdraw it, stuffing it beneath the blanket. 

“I know that I do not need it”, you bite back, twisting your body as far away from him as possible. He huffs out a short breath, biting the inside of his cheek, seemingly in deep thought. You peer at him through the corner of your eye, lips curling into a small grimace. — “Do you plan on living in the dark forever then?” He finally wonders, his voice a mere murmur and you frown. “I could show you, show you the light”, he hums, fingers drumming against the mattress leisurely. 

You’re unable to hide the scoff you emit before turning back to face him. “You couldn’t find light if it so much as presented itself in front of you.” Beomgyu’s jaw visibly clenches at your words, his hand stilling against the bed as his gaze flickers up to meet yours, an underlying twinge of curiosity lingering behind his otherwise cold and emotionless eyes. —  “No? And why’s that?” 

Your lip twitches, a small grimace of pure disgust threatening to overtake your entire face as you regard him with disdain. “Because something as dark and twisted as you cannot possibly seek light. You repell it.” 

The last sentence rings out in the silent air, and you watch as the intrigue in his eyes becomes put out like that of a dying fire. His expression contorted into the one you knew so well, the cruel one, the one that hurt people. “What, and you think you’re some kind of saint?” He jeers, trying to mask where your words had evidently stung. — Were you a saint? Hardly. But you didn’t hurt the people around you just because you could, just because life had treated you unfairly. That was the difference between you and Beomgyu. 

“You know what I think of you?” He says, the bed squeaking as he leans forward, dangerously close. “I think you’re scared.” He drawls, eyes boring into your own with so much vigor that you almost felt pity for the anger that consumed him. How miserable he must be to live like that. — “I’m not scared.” You calmly state, shifting against the pillows as you instinctively try to create distance between the two of you. Quickly taking note of your hesitant body language, he smirks, “no? Then prove it.”

“Prove that you’re not afraid of the darkness, of my darkness.” 

You remain silent for a moment, watching as he awaits your answer, your next course of action. Was this a bad idea? Probably. You had told yourself over and over that you wouldn’t let yourself get consumed by him, become tainted by his flawed hands. Yet you find yourself reaching for the blanket covering your body, pulling it from your legs as you discard it on the floor. Beomgyu follows the movement with an amused look, an almost wicked one before his smokey eyes snap back to yours. 

“Fine”, you say, adjusting yourself on the bed as you let your hands fall to your sides, “show me.” The simple statement makes his face twist into a look of pure smugness and Beomgyu wastes no time in scooting closer, fingers wrapping around both of your wrists as he positions himself before you. “You have no idea what you’re asking of me”, he murmurs, his lip twitching into a sinister grin as he does. It was almost as if your obliviousness spurred him on, your naivety making his mind reel. 

His breath is warm on your face as he studies you closely, from the way blood rushes beneath your cheeks to your eyelashes fluttering as you try to focus with him so close. “Have you ever kissed someone before?” He asks, the underlying curiosity in his words palpable. You try to think of any occasion in which you might’ve, but after a good moment you shake your head. “Only once…in middle school, a smell peck on the lips..” You admit, albeit a little sheepishly. 

The smirk on his face only widened, exposing his sharp teeth as Beomgyu chuckled. “That doesn’t count”, he states, seemingly pleased with your answer, with your honesty, your trust. Biting your bottom lip, you swallow before nodding slowly. “I’ll show you how to.” He then mumbles, and suddenly his nose is practically grazing yours. You suck in a sharp breath, eyes widening as you watch his confident ones. 

Then his lips press against your own, and they’re surprisingly soft. At first he remained still, completely unmoving and you wondered what on god's green earth he was doing. But soon he lets his eyes close, one of his hands letting go of your wrist as he cups your cheek. The small caress makes your eyes widen further and you resist the urge to pull back. Unsure of what to do with yourself, you hesitantly respond to the tentative kiss, letting your eyes flutter shut as well. 

You knew that you shouldn’t be doing this, that it was wrong, taboo even. He was your step brother.. at least he was bound to be once your parents got married. Guilt roots itself in the pits of your stomach, making it twist and turn uncomfortably as you try to relax in his grip. — He doesn’t push you any further and it takes you by surprise. Instead he lets his lips linger on top of yours, and when he pulls away moments later, a small pecking sound follows it. You watch through lidded eyes as his narrowed gaze studies you, the hand on your cheek moving to your chin. 

“How was it?” He wonders, as if expecting a review of some sort. Your mouth parts but you can’t seem to find the words. How could you describe the shame and the guilt? How could you ever verbalize the way his soft lips had felt on yours, such a thing was impossible. — “It felt weird..” Your hushed whisper echoes out like church bells in your ears and you remain very aware of the way his fingers reside around your chin, locking your face in place. 

Beomgyu lets out a short breath, his thumb pulling your bottom lip down as his gaze catches onto your exposed teeth. “First time always feels weird”, he states and before you get to prepare yourself, he dives right back in, except this time he goes straight for the kill. — You let out a small yelp as he pries your mouth open, immediately slipping his wet tongue inside to slide against yours. You can still taste the minty toothpaste on him and the sensation of something so wet and…alive, in your mouth, makes you cringe. 

You still allow him to kiss you, to push you back against the pillows as his hands roam your body, his poisonous touch spreading across your skin like wildfire. You knew that this was exactly what he wanted, to ruin something so perfectly pure, to take something from you that you could never get back. And for some reason, you let him. — Only when his hand reaches the waistband of your pajama shorts do you stop him, eyes wide as you push him back. 

“Wait.” 

The kiss breaks with a wet sound and a small string of saliva still connects the two of you. Struggling to find a suitable approach to the matter, you let your gaze drop to his chest, heaving a small sigh as you bite your lip. “I…I don’t know if…I mean I haven’t..” Honestly you didn’t even know what you were getting at yourself, you supposed you wanted to prolong the moment, if just a moment longer. 

Beomgyu regards you with an expression you don’t think you’d ever seen on him before; a mixture of both intrigue and desire. “Are you scared?” He wonders and without thinking, you nod. His lips stretch wide, the hand on your shorts moving to your inner thigh as he gives it a light squeeze and you nearly flinch at the touch. “Good”, he huffs, his fingers venturing beneath the fabric of your pajamas as he gauges your reaction closely. 

When he pulls your shorts down, you gingerly try and conceal yourself, your cheeks flushing in all shades of red as your thighs squeeze shut. “Don’t be embarrassed”, he tsk’s, his hands on your knees as he firmly spreads them. — “I’ve seen plenty of pussies before”, he merely shrugs, “yours won’t be any different.” His reassurance didn’t help ease much of your worries as you let him pry your legs open. 

He starts slow, and you’re thankful; his index and middle finger gently rubbing you through the soft cotton of your panties and you resist the urge to hide your face as you squirm against him. — It wasn’t like you’d never touched yourself, because you had…you think. Like any other young teenager you’d experimented a little with your body, but as an inexperienced 15-year old, the results had proved futile. You never had the urge you suppose, you didn’t even know how it was supposed to feel like. But as Beomgyu touches you through your underwear, a strange feeling mingles alongside the guilt and shame in your stomach. 

His eyes are on you, on only you, watching as you bite your bottom lip, your hands fidgeting with the bed sheets as you try to suppress the small noises bubbling in your throat. Not until his fingers find your clit, rubbing it deliberately through your panties, do you let out a small squeak. “Is…Is it supposed to feel like that?” — Beomgyu’s dark gaze shifts from your spread legs and over to your wide stare. He nods, “does it feel good?” 

“Strange..” You quietly whisper, though you made no move to stop him as his index finger hooks around the waistband of your underwear. “Yeah?” He murmurs, taking his time as he slowly pulls the piece of garment from your body, letting it slide along your legs before he discards it on the floor. “You’ll get used to it”, he muses, eyes shifting to your exposed cunt as they visibly darken, “it comes with experience.” 

You had no clue what to expect, what to feel, how to respond. Your whole body felt tense as his cold fingers brushed against your naked skin, inching their way up and suddenly it felt like you were under a microscope, every single part of you being presented under a stark light. Beomgyu on the other hand, seems far more at ease as he lets two of his fingers swipe across your cute folds, teasingly pushing them apart as he slowly rubs you. 

It takes everything in you not to cringe at the weird and damp feeling pooling between your legs, the consistent throb of your cunt and the small cry you emit as he flicks over your clit once more. He sighs, “virgin pussies are my favorite”, his gaze shifts to his already glistening fingers, “they get wet so easily.” — You merely let out a small whimper at his words, thigh involuntarily twitching, the movement immediately catching his eye as his lips curl into a smirk. 

“W-Wait!” You croak as you suddenly feel him prodding against your fluttering hole, your muscles taut as you shift on the bed. Beomgyu stops, hand resting against your core as he studies you with an indifferent expression. “W-Won’t that hurt?” It felt embarrassing to ask, but the thought of him pushing something inside of you…it scared you. — But Beomgyu only shrugs. “It might”, he drawls, his fingers resuming their work on your cunt as he repositions his index one right above the tight rim of muscle, “depends on how bad you want me.” 

Want him? You didn’t know if you wanted him, it wasn’t like you liked him, right? You hated Beomgyu, you’d hated him for two years. You hated how he treated his mother, how he treated you, with such coldness and such little empathy. You hated how he made you cry, how he made you feel small and weak. You hated how he made you feel bad for grieving your own mother. 

But as your gaze shifts to his face, and as you will yourself to look past the cruelty, the darkness, you can still make out the boy you met that night, the one you’d had a small and what you thought was an insignificant crush on. From the black charcoal around his eyes, to the silver jewelry bored into his eyebrow; his black hair, nearly reaching his shoulders now, and his dark eyes, his eyes that both scared and intrigued you. 

You gasp when he without warning pushes his finger past your folds, immediately curling it inside of you, making your back arch off the bed in sheer surprise. Beomgyu’s attention is solely on your flushed face, watching in contentment as you writher under his touch, as you slowly lose yourself. — “O-Oh..” Is all you manage to squeak out between the ragged breaths. It felt weird and uncomfortable, but it didn't hurt, instead the fluttering sensation in your stomach only seemed to grow. 

“Such a greedy pussy”, Beomgyu hums as he feels you pulsate around his finger, “sucking me in like a complete whore.” You shake your head, “I-I’m not..” The words die in your throat as he adds he slides a second digit past your tight rim, making you shriek as he stretches your cunt. 

His touch felt poisonous but you couldn’t find it in you to push him off, to tell him to stop. No matter how many times you told yourself how wrong it was, you couldn’t help but slowly succumb to the darkness that was Beomgyu. Wanting, no needing, more. It was as if he’d introduced you to a most dangerous drug, and you find yourself desperately seeking another fix, a stronger one. 

Your short nails have torn the bright sheets covering the mattress, and your arms tremble as you lock eyes with him. Satisfactory, that was the only way you could describe the expression painting his face. You don’t think you’d ever seen Beomgyu as anything but angry, but this…this was far from it. He looks ready to devour you whole, his brooding eyes fixating on the way your jaw slacked, your saliva coated lips parted and your eyebrows drawn together in such an endearing manner. 

“Feel good?” He wonders, his brow twitching slightly when his thumb presses against your clit, eliciting a high pitched moan from you as you squirm against him. “I’ll take that as a yes”, he drawls and before you know it, his fingers are gone, making a sloppy sound as they withdraw from your cunt. You whine, hips bucking up in an attempt to seek his touch and your cheeks flare up in color. “W-Why did you stop..?” You pathetically wonder, biting the inside of your cheek, thinking that you had possibly done something wrong. 

Beomgyu doesn’t say anything as he brings his sticky fingers to his face, inhaling your scent before shoving them into his mouth. Your jaw falls open in bewilderment, how could he just do something like that so…casually. — “Come on now princess, we’ve only just gotten started.” 

Even more? 

Your already wide eyes dilate even further, completely forgetting to be angry over the nickname he’d used as his hand dips inside the waistband of his sweats, pulling his hard cock from his briefs. It wasn’t like you were a total prude, you knew what a dick looked like, you just…had never seen one up close. — Beomgyu takes his time as he wraps his fingers around its base, languidly stroking himself as pearly beads of what you could only assume to be precum spilled from the slit on top. 

The thought of having that inside of you makes your throat go dry and you shift uncomfortably on the bed. “Come on now, sis, don’t grow shy on me”, he drawls, stifling a groan as his thumb flicks over his tip. The knot in your stomach returns and you shoot him a glare, “I am not your ‘sis’”, you state through gritted teeth. But Beomgyu only chuckles before leaning forward, his face drawing in close once more. With one hand still on his cock, the other one presses flat against the mattress as he hovers in front of you. 

“Lie down.” 

His sharp command sends a shiver down your spine and you hesitantly comply, awkwardly sliding yourself down between his parted legs until only your head remains perched on the pillow. From this angle, Beomgyu’s long hair falls in front of his face and you resist the urge to reach up and brush it away. Instead your nervous eyes flicker to his cock as he gently taps it against your inner thigh. Your gaze lingers on the way his arousal spills onto your naked skin and suddenly a wave of realization washes over you. 

“Shouldn’t we use a condom?” You whisper, biting the inside of your cheek as your attention flits back to the smug expression on his face. “Why? That takes away half the fun”, he hums, letting his tip part your puffy folds as he nudges it against your throbbing clit. “H-ah b-but isn’t it unsafe?” You whine, unable to keep from grinding against him, desperately seeking his touch. 

Beomgyu lets out an exasperated sigh, reaching a hand up to run through his slightly disheveled hair. “Don’t tell me you’re scared”, he grunts, his fingers clasping around your chin, pulling your face so that it rests inches from his. Your breath is uneven and jagged as you reluctantly meet his gaze, a quiet “no” spilling from your lips. — He grins, tongue dragging across the bottom row of teeth in his mouth, “such a terrible liar.” 

You don’t have time to think, much less act before the head of his cock pushed past the rim of taut muscle as he slid inside your warm cunt, almost immediately groaning at how you wrapped around him so deliciously. — “Fuck, you really are a virgin aren’t you?” He breathes, lips hovering above yours and you weakly nod. The stretch of his thick cock making you go near cross eyed as you grasped at his shoulders. It was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before and you were sure that Beomgyu enjoyed every second of it. 

He had been the first, the first one to get his hands on you, to spew his poison all over your pure and innocent virgin body, and he would make sure to do so thoroughly. His mouth is on your neck, tongue licking at your skin and you cringe away from the action but he doesn’t falter, lips immediately chasing yours as he keeps you in place. The kiss is rougher than the previous, hungry and disoriented as Beomgyu messily jerks his hips against yours. Your nails dig into the apex of his shoulders and his name echoes through in the pristine bedroom as you moan out in pleasure. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum right away if you keep that up”, he grunts, fingers digging into your cheeks as he withdraws from your lips. Your eyes widen as you feebly try and shake your head, dreading for him to finish inside. But he doesn’t, instead he redirects his focus to your neck, resuming what he’d been doing as his tongue darts out to swipe across its juncture. You squeal when his teeth graze your skin, the hands on his shoulders moving to his dark hair. 

The marks he left on your untouched skin were bound to linger for at least a couple of days, he made sure of that. Reveling in the fact that you’d let him in, let him close, allowed him to take something so precious, something that you had been clinging on to for so long. He would have you, all of you, even if only once, he would be sure to leave an impression. 

And you know that you should feel ashamed, feel guilty, dirty even. But something feels different, something about him, about Beomgyu. It’s not the Beomgyu you loathed, the Beomgyu who’d made you cry, the Beomgyu who made you feel worthless. — None of the anger, the hatred, the fire; none of that lingered right now. And had it not been for his sharp teeth on your skin and his rough pace as his cock rammed into your throbbing cunt, the moment might’ve even been tender. 

There’s an unfamiliar feeling building in the pits of your stomach and it had long since overridden the previous shame and guilt. Unsure of what to make of it, you desperately tug on Beomgyu’s hair, eventually making his head raise from your chest with a small frown, the liner around his eyes even more smudged than usual now. — “I’m…I…” your face turns beet red as you stumble over your words, not knowing how to express yourself. 

He licks his already wet lips, his pace momentarily slowing and you whimper at the discomfort soaring through your body. “You close?” He asks, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your sweaty forehead. You open your mouth only to close it again, nodding sheepishly as your hands twist in his hair. Beomgyu groans as he lets his fingers slide down your stomach, reaching where your bodies connected like one, middle finger rubbing your clit menacingly as he watches you arch against him with a broken moan. 

Your first ever orgasm felt out of this world, your cunt clenching around his cock with such vigor that you thought you might cry, a string of incoherent and high pitched whines ripping from your throat as you pull Beomgyu close, and for the first time, you’re the one initiating the kiss as you slam your lips on his. — He groans into your mouth, letting you slide your tongue against his, albeit a little awkwardly as you had no clue of what you were doing. 

Finally, as your climax comes to an end, you find yourself relaxing against the mattress, the fingers in his hair loosening their grip as you allow yourself to kiss him slowly. — “F-Fuck princess”, he grunts, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth before letting go. You respond by eagerly raising your hips to meet his, wincing at how sensitive you felt as his cock twitched inside of you. “Fuck, fuck, wait”, he breaths, tearing himself from you as he swiftly pulls out with a small hiss. 

In your euphoric state, your eyes drift to his hand wrapped around his shaft, quickly jerking himself off as his gaze fixates on your wet cunt. Then he notices you, his lips curling into a wicked grin as he reaches for your wrist, “come here”, he urges as he guides the flat of your hand to wrap around his cock. — Blinking, your attention flits between his expectant face and his heavy dick in your grasp as you contemplate your next move. It wasn’t like you’d ever done something like this before but it looked easy enough when he was doing it. 

With determination you begin to carefully stroke him, biting the inside of your cheek at the squelching sound erupting as his arousal smeared across your fingers. Beomgyu’s hips jerk forward and your movements stutter. — “H-ah, fucking hell d-don’t stop”, he groans, his jaw slacked as his eyes tightly squeezed shut. A quiet “sorry” slips from your lips and your pace returns as you work to get him off. 

“F-Fuck go a bit faster, yeah?” He mutters, his hand joining in on top of yours as he ups the intensity. Merely following his command, you grip him tighter, drawing a strained moan from him as your fingers drag across his tip. — It made you feel oddly powerful, seeing him like this, his otherwise indifferent face completely flushed, and instead of presenting himself with a mean scowl, he looked to be in complete bliss as he let his head fall back. 

A final twitch of his causes hot liquid to spurt from his throbbing cock, the white substance coating both your hand and lower abdomen. He heaves a sigh and you feel him slowly go soft in your hand before you pull it away. Beomgyu runs his fingers through his hair, parting it before letting his arm drop back down, his gaze landing on the mess on your stomach. He tsk’s spreading the sticky fluid across your skin. “What would your daddy think if he saw you like this, hm?” He murmurs, licking his lips before bringing his cum-coated fingers to your face. 

You shake your head, without the waves of pleasure sparking through you, the shame and the guilt suddenly crawled right back. “I- I don’t want to talk about him..” You whine, trying to force the image of your father out of your mind. — “His beautiful princess, completely ruined by something so…what did you say I was? Dark?” 

Without warning he pushes his wet fingers inside your mouth, making you cringe at the salty taste of him. “I bet your daddy would hate you forever”, Beomgyu finally states, watching as you frown, lips closing around the digits in your mouth. — And when he finally withdraws them, you splutter, “my father doesn’t hate me, but yours seem to do.” 

Beomgyu’s jaw twitches, his lips curling up into a small scowl and the desire previously filling the air slowly simmers out. You knew that he wanted you to feel just as miserable as he did. But you wouldn’t let him, you wouldn’t let him get to you like that. — Half expecting an insult thrown your way, you’re surprised when he merely tucks himself back into his sweats, rising from the bed as he regards you with dark eyes. “Fine, keep living with such fantasies and we’ll see just how long it takes for them to get crushed.” 

Without as much as another word, he leaves your room, the door slamming shut behind him as the small house falls under an eerie silence once more. 

⸝⸝

Your parents came home two days later, and though you wanted to say that things had changed between you and Beomgyu after your…night together, it was safe to say that they hadn’t. At least not on his part. You on the other hand, couldn’t get the feeling of his hands off of your body, it was like he’d permanently imprinted himself on your skin. It feels disgusting, and you had spent three hours in the shower the morning after, vigorously trying to scrub the venom from your system. But it never worked, his touch lingered like that of a tattoo, forever sealed onto you. You could never take back what had happened that night. 

For some reason, a small part of you doesn’t want to. 

Beomgyu avoided you, and when he wasn’t avoiding you he was glaring. His dark and piercing eyes followed your every move whenever you were in his field of vision. But there was something else too, a sense of superiority. — He knew that you were constantly dealing with the consequences of that night, he could see the way your mind haunted you with the memories, and he took pride in watching the shame and the guilt practically eat you alive. — He was on top of the world and you were scrambling to even get by. 

So one could easily imagine your surprise when one evening, you found him in a state you never thought you’d ever get to witness. 

It was late, but your small family had yet to eat dinner, and you watched as Ms Choi darted across the kitchen, in full with preparing your meal. You helped her set the table as you laughed at a couple of your dad’s terrible and overused jokes. It had taken a whole of three days for you to be able to look him in the eye after he’d come home, and you still felt terrible whenever you caught him and Ms Choi sharing a kiss; knowing that one tiny slip of your lips could manage to ruin something so perfect. 

You trusted that Beomgyu wouldn’t utter as much as a single breath about what had transpired that night, but you still startled when his mother taps your shoulder, whipping around as you come face to face with her. — “Dear, do you mind fetching Beomgyu, dinner’s almost ready”, she smiled, that warm and comforting smile she so often gave her son, only to receive a mere huff in return. You nod, slowly making your way out of the kitchen as you head for the hallway, dreading having to speak to him, much less in private. 

The steps creak under your weight as you drag yourself up the stairs, drawing out the moment for as long as possible before you inevitably reach his door. With a small sigh, you knock. There’s no music coming from the other side and you frown, what’s up with him? — Another knock, but nothing. You bite the inside of your cheek, a wave of frustration crashing over you at the thought of having to call out for him. 

“Beomgyu?” 

A third knock. You wait for at least a minute but there’s nothing, just silence. Perhaps he’d fallen asleep, still, you should wake him and let him know that dinner was ready, Ms Choi had asked you after all. — Your hand is near trembling as you grasp the handle, twisting it before pushing the door open. Slowly adjusting to the darkness of his room, you peer inside. But to your surprise, he wasn’t there. 

Your footsteps make a thumping sound as you hurry down the stairs. If he wasn’t in his room then…Your gaze flickers toward the dining room and kitchen before settling on the front door. “Did he mention anything about going out?” You call out for Ms Choi and she soon appears in the doorway, a bowl of salad in her hands. “No, is he not in his room?” She wonders, her face quickly falling. 

Noting her worried expression you quickly shake your head as you try and reassure her. “I’m sure he just went for a walk, I’ll go check.” — Your dad’s girlfriend gives a small nod as her gaze, too, flickers toward the door. “Alright..” 

⸝⸝ 

The cool night air hits your face and you mutter a few curses under your breath, scolding yourself for offering to do something like that when the last thing you wanted was to be out in this cold. — As you walk down the graveled path you let out a tired groan, what were you even thinking coming out here? It wasn’t like he was just going to magically appear or something. Fucking asshole, had the nerve to leave without a word and now you had to go looking for him. 

But as you push the small fence gate open and turn out and onto the street, a familiar scene flashes before your eyes. Nostalgia fills your every fiber as your eyes fall on Beomgyu’s figure, perched on the sidewalk as he hugs his knees to his chest, just like he had that night, that night two years ago. — But something was different. That night, the one where you had learned to hate him, it had been a warm night, and Beomgyu had been burning with rage. Today, the air is much colder, and Beomgyu is no longer on fire, instead he’s shivering, his whole body quivering as small sobs escape his soft lips.  

You freeze at the sight, breath catching in your throat as you regard his almost pathetic frame, curling in on itself as his fingers dig into the flesh of his calves. Part of you wants to leave him there, perhaps even make fun of him, it was most tempting to finally get back at him for the way he’d ruined you. — But you weren’t Beomgyu. And you wouldn’t do that. 

Instead you find yourself slowly approaching, and just like that night two years ago, you slide down next to him on the cold pavement. He doesn’t seem to register that you’re there, and you sit in silence for a brief moment before addressing him. — “Beomgyu?” — His head jerks at the quiet whisper of his name, his usually narrowed eyes wide in shock as they flicker over to you. His cheeks are wet, stained with his tears and the liner around his eyes had run down his face in messy streaks. A few strands of hair stick to his forehead and his lip trembles as he sucks in a sharp breath. 

“Leave me the fuck alone.” He croaks, but his voice comes out weak and raspy. His hands wipe at his face, but it only spreads the mess already there even further and he lets out a frustrated groan. — You don’t say anything, because last time you tried to comfort him you only ended up getting hurt. Instead your gaze flits to his discarded phone between the two of you. The screen was broken, likely from him smashing it on the asphalt beneath. You frown as it suddenly comes to life, vibrating against the hard ground. The bright screen illuminates the dim street and your eyes land on the caller-ID. 

“Dad.” 

Beomgyu doesn’t make a move to answer, merely turning his head away as he continues to sob into his arms. “Don’t”, he mutters as he sees you reaching for the device, “he’s drunk.” — You purse your lips but your fingers still clasp around the phone, your thumb swiping to decline the call. Upon being presented with his lockscreen, you can make out at least another fifteen missed ones. Your chest churns at the scene, for whatever reason, you do not know. The bright light vanishes as you power off his phone completely, tossing it to the side as you stretch your legs out in front of you on the pavement. 

It takes him about a minute to lift his head from his arms and his breath is still uneven as he speaks. “What does he want?” — Biting your lip, you gaze ahead, tracing the outlines of each car parked down the street, memorizing their plate numbers. You didn’t know how to answer his question, so you remained silent. Beomgyu shuffles next to you, mimicking your movement of unfolding his legs. “I bet he wants money..” He then adds in a snarky tone, wiping his face once more as he snivels, “money to sponsor his fucking addiction.” 

You throw a quick glance in the direction of his discarded phone. “Why do you still have his number?” It was obvious that he didn’t like his father, so why let him bother him like that. Beomgyu shakes his head solemnly, his fingers twisting against one another as he opens his mouth only to close it again. “Wouldn’t it be better to block him?” — “I can’t.” He suddenly exclaims, turning to you with a small frown. 

Why not? Why let something like that plague you, why not just cut it off, why not just let go? 

It was then you realized that perhaps you and Beomgyu shared a lot more than you’d initially wanted to admit.. Your eyes drop to the bracelet around your wrist, the silver glinting under the moon. — When your attention returns to him, you find him already watching you, his gaze following yours as it resided by the jewelry on your arm. You think he might make another comment about it, but he doesn’t, instead he merely sighs as he runs a hand through his hair. 

“I think..” You begin, your voice a quiet whisper as you stare past him, eyes drifting off into the distance as you let the words roll off your tongue. “I think you’re stuck on what could’ve been rather than what you have.” Beomgyu doesn’t say anything, his gaze mindlessly dropping to his hands in front of him as he bites the inside of his cheek. “What I have”, he mutters with a small frown, clearly not intended for you to hear but you did. 

“You have your mom.” 

He scoffs, already anticipating your next self-victimizing rant about how yours was dead. “My mom is-” 

“A wonderful person.” Your statement catches him off guard and his attention shifts back to your face as he studies you with a look of wariness. “And you would see that if you spared her more than a glare”, you continue as you watch his skeptical expression. — You had never felt anything besides hatred for Beomgyu, and you had been so blinded by your rage that in a way, you had become almost exactly like him. But as you finally take a step back to view him completely, his disheveled frame, his slumped shoulders and runny makeup — pity washes over you, the same pity you had felt on that night two years ago; the night everything went wrong. 

“Stop holding her accountable for his mistakes.” 

You can see the twitch of his face at your words, as if he wanted to refuse them, to lash out on you, but he didn’t. Instead he looks to you with the most sorrowful look you’d ever witnessed on him. — “How do I do that?” He wonders, his voice is thick, laced with his previous tears. Biting your tongue, you hold back from saying what you thought he wasn’t ready to hear but Beomgyu clings to you, his hands wrapping around the fabric of your shirt, his grip near trembling. 

“I miss my mom.” He whispers, his voice breaking as a lonesome droplet falls down his cheek, slicing through the dark smear of charcoal on his face. Your jaw falls open, stunned by the way his resolve so suddenly crumbled. And as you heard the words leave his lips, “i miss my mom”, you could practically feel every single one of his emotions as they washed over him in thunderous waves. — You missed your mom too, you missed her terribly. 

He hiccups, his tears creating a damp spot on the shoulder of your shirt. “H-How do I get her back..?” The question comes out muffled as he grips you tightly. “Please…I want my mom back.” — Your eyes sting and you feel yourself slowly losing your composure as you draw in a ragged breath. With a small push of your hands, you manage to create some distance between the two of you, enough to where you could see his wet face, his glossy eyes and swollen lips. 

“You have to let him go.” 

You reach for his phone, powering it back on. Beomgyu looks hesitant as he wipes his eyes, exhaling shakily when you extend the device to him. “The longer you let him ruin you the more you and those around you will suffer.” — With wobbly fingers he grasps his phone, slowly finding his dad’s contact info. He wavers, thumb hovering above the block button as he bites his bottom lip. 

You don’t know why you felt the need to help him, why you felt like you had to comfort him, reassure him. — “You’ve said it yourself haven’t you? Some people don’t deserve children.” His gaze flickers up to meet yours at the statement, a glimmer of recognition in his eyes. “Don’t let him have that privilege”, you say as you let your hand rest on top of his. 

Beomgyu slowly nods, reluctantly pressing the dreadful button as he erases his father from his life. He purses his lips, breathing out through his nose as he stares at the screen for a minute, as if contemplating his next move. — “He’s gone.” He finally states, the frown on his face only deepening as he swallowed thickly. 

“Sometimes it’s better that way”, you mumble, letting go of his hand as you lean back, your gaze dropping to the bracelet around your wrist. 

Your heart pounds loudly in your chest, blood rushing through your body as you reach for the small lock, carefully unclasping the piece of sacred jewelry. Beomgyu and you…You weren’t so different, you think. And if he could do something, something like that, then who says you couldn’t? 

His eyes are on you, watching intently as you with shaky hands let the bracelet fall from your skin, feeling oddly empty without it. — It feels light in your hand, and you wondered how something so significant could weigh so little. It made it easier to let go. — Beomgyu lets you grab his wrist, the frown on his face creasing further when you tie the silver around him. 

“Now she’s gone too.” 

You give him a small smile, meeting his wide eyes as they shift from the bracelet around his wrist and your relieved expression. 

It’s without thinking that you lean in, softly pressing your lips against his in a small kiss. But this time you didn’t feel guilty, nor did you feel dirty or ashamed. Instead it felt nice, it felt like closure. Letting your eyes flutter closed, feeling his warm and damp skin against your own, a stark contrast to the cold night surrounding you. Beomgyu lets you kiss him without protest and you feel the faint caress of fingers to your cheek. 

When you pull away he chases after you, only to be stopped by the palm of your hand on his chest as you shake your head. “It’s not like that. You know it too.” Your soft whisper makes his jaw clench, his fingers dropping from your face as they curl into fists. Then he nods, the corner of his lips pulling upwards, “yeah.” 

Gingerly rising to your feet, you dust some off the dirt from your jeans before your attention returns to him, still perched on the sidewalk. — Your outstretched hand is met by the raise of his eyebrow and you roll your eyes, “come on, I think there’s someone who would like to talk to you.” Beomgyu frowns but takes your hand nonetheless as he lets you pull him up. 

You walk like that, hand in hand, and it feels nice. Your heart sinks a little at the thought that it could’ve been like this from the start, had things worked out differently. But as you turn to walk through the small fence gate, and your eyes fall on Ms Choi, anxiously waiting by the front door, you find yourself smiling. And instead of grieving what you could’ve had, you would focus on what you did have. 

Beomgyu audibly swallows next to you as his gaze surveys his mother, and as Ms Choi notices the two of you approaching, her face lights up. — With a final squeeze of his hand, you let him go. It was satisfactory in itself to see him walk up to his mom, letting her wrap her arms around him for the first time in what you could only guess to be years. But they both made it look so natural as they fell into each other’s embrace. And it only confirmed what you had known for so long.

That Beomgyu was and had always been, a mommy’s boy.

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[happyyyandcrazyyy]

matching bracelets (kaz brekker x reader)

summary: when (y/n) buys kaz a bracelet she does so as a joke, she knows he’ll never actually wear it. imagine her surprise when she sees it dangling around his wrist.

based on the prompt: person A gets person B a friendship bracelet, expecting person B to never wear it, but when it’s given to them person B puts it on and is rarely seen with it off.

warnings: mentions of blood and torture (not explicit, briefly mentioned)

kaz taglist: @the-tpd-bau @ellievickstar @thestudiouswanderer | soc taglist: @ancientbeing10 (if you want to be added or removed from the taglist just dm me!)

a/n: guess who's back after a year of being mia!! i've been working on a lot of fics, but inspiration just hasn't been there, so i'm going slow, i don't like to force myself to write if i don't feel like it. anywaysss, i hope you enjoy this one! it was such a fun ride to write :)

Jesper opens the door with a loud bang, strutting into the Slat with his head held high and a slight jump in his step. He’s whistling good-naturedly, his left hand twirling a pistol and his right hand holding a rumpled piece of paper.

(Y/N)’s right hand— which had immediately reached for the pocket knife in her boot at the tumultuous noise— retreats back to her side. She relaxes, letting her shoulders sag and briefly looking down to make the final correction on a contract Kaz had her look over, left hand holding the pen and swiftly moving over the paper.

Jesper makes his way towards her, still whistling. She follows him from the corner of her eye, a slight smirk taking over her features. He’s in a good mood, the kind of mood he’s only ever in when the Gods are in his favor and he manages to miraculously not gamble away all his money. It’s not something that happens often.

“Did you win some?” she asks, already knowing the answer but enjoying the way the Sharpshooter preens under the attention. Jesper, very much in character and to (Y/N)’s delight, twirls around and does a ridiculous dance before taking a small bow.

“Baby, I won a whole lot.”

She huffs out a laugh, leaning back as she watches him place the pistol in its respective holster before plopping down on the chair by her right side and tossing her a small bag.

(Y/N) catches it smoothly, reflexes as sharp as always.

She doesn’t need to open the sack to know there’s kruge in there; the sound of coins jiggling against each other is a dead giveaway.

Jesper winks, a teasing smile on his lips. He tips his chair back, feet on top of the table, “Because you’re my favorite.”

It’s really because he owes her more kruge than he’ll ever be able to repay, but (Y/N) plays along. She’s never cared much about money, anyways.

“You sure do know how to charm a lady,” she smirks.

“I’m good at charming gents, too.”

“Versatile.”

“You know me.”

(Y/N) smiles, softer around the edges this time, something reserved only for her closest friends. She’s about to being correcting another contact— she has twelve to go through, all because she’d been bored and had decided annoying Kaz would be a great way to spend her time, he obviously hadn’t agreed —when Jesper slides over the piece of paper he’d been holding in his right hand. In the time he’d made his way towards her he’d somehow managed to crumple it completely.

She takes it, half curious, half willing to do anything to procrastinate revising and correcting those stupid documents.

“Brought this for you, too. I’ve got the feeling you’re going to enjoy this much more than the money.”

Her eyebrows furrow with curiosity as she slowly opens up the paper.

Ink contrasts the yellowish hue of the paper. Her own face greets her, drawn by hand, but fairly accurate.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N)

Wanted dead or alive.

1,000 kruge.

She can’t help the snicker that falls from her lips

Jesper is right. This is better, much better.

“Can’t believe it’s only a thousand this time,” she huffs, a small pout on her lips. “I must be losing my touch.”

Jesper snorts at that.

(Because she hasn’t lost her touch, not even a little, and they both know it. Just yesterday she’d managed to get vital information out of a Black Tip member with a single touch and a minimal amount of bloodshed. Three days before that she’d disposed of a rival gang member who’d been speaking too freely and she’d made sure his body would never be found. Two weeks prior to that Kaz had sent her to steal a miniature stature and she’d done it without a hitch, forging an identical copy in less than five days. No, she still very much has it.)

“I might have to go overboard next time,” she muses quietly to herself, “do something that will raise the bounty to at least two thousand five hundred.”

She traces the outline of her name, biting down a smile when Jesper snorts.

“You’re insane,” the Sharpshooter deadpans, the fondness in his tone almost tangible.

(Y/N) smiles wickedly at him, “So they say.”

Marbles is what they’ve nicknamed her around the Barrel. They say she’s lost them all. And it must be true, she must be out of her mind, because having a bounty on your head in Ketterdam is nothing less than a death sentence. It means having the most ruthless assassins coming after you, all looking for a way to make fast money. It’s living with the constant fear of someone sneaking up on you and slicing your throat, of having your food poisoned, of being choked to death in your sleep, of having your closest friends betray you as a means to survive. But to (Y/N), who has been part of the city’s underworld since before being able to formulate words, who has had any sort of ability to feel fear beaten out of her, this is nothing but one of the most amazing sources of entertainment. It keeps her on her toes, brings an adrenaline rush that does not compare to anything else. She must be crazy because any sane person would be paralyzed in fear, running for their lives, and yet all she can feel is the comforting thrill of being in mortal danger. (And, yes, it is comforting. She was raised to be a weapon, trained to withstand any form of torture; having Death peering over her shoulder is something she’s comfortable with, something she’s used to, something that soothes her). Besides, even if she wasn’t deadly confident in her own abilities (which she very much is), and even if she was able to feel terror overtaking her limbs (which she doesn’t think she’ll ever feel again), the title she holds would be enough to keep her relatively safe; she is Kaz’s right hand, and no one dares touch something that belongs to Dirtyhands.

(Y/N) stares at the poster for a little while longer— they got her nose wrong, made it too pointy —before smirking to herself. She knows how this will all go down, has seen it played out a few dozen times before (this is a regular occurrence, after all, a bounty is placed on her head every couple of months, whenever she loses her temper and murders someone who was deemed untouchable, or steals something much too valuable for her blood-stained hands). So, yes, she knows how this will go; the bounty will stay up for a couple of weeks, long enough for a few to dare try to kill her, and then it’ll be removed by whoever placed it once they realize it’s futile, once they see how everyone who even dares breathe too close to her winds up dead. She hopes the assassination attempts are entertaining, she hopes whoever dares come after her head gives her a good fight, if only to keep things interesting. It’s been a while since she’s had some unrestrained fun.

(Kaz keeps her on a tight rein, knows better than to let her run around freely. To say things can get out of hand when she’s left to her own devices would be an understatement.)

“Again?”

The voice comes from behind her, and (Y/N) doesn’t need to turn around to know who it is, she heard his steps since before he even walked into the room. (It’s easy to know when it’s Kaz, he subconsciously places more weight on his left leg to keep the right one from aching, it makes his footsteps distinctive.) Still, she angles her head to meet his eyes. He’s leaning over her chair, cold eyes watching the bounty poster with disdain.

He’s never said it but (Y/N) knows that he doesn’t appreciate her life being imperiled. She is, in a way, an extension of him, and therefore any threats to her he sees as direct threats to him. Dirtyhands doesn’t take it well to being threatened.

“It’s okay, boss,” Jesper calls out. He’s still tipping his chair back, now playing with his guns. (Y/N) is kind of tempted to lean forward and kick one of the chair’s wooden legs, just to watch him struggle, possibly even fall. But Jesper’s known her long enough to realize when she’s on the verge of becoming a nuisance because his eyes narrow playfully and he lets the chair’s weight drop forward, “I wouldn’t worry too much.”

From the corner of her eye, (Y/N) can see the way Kaz’s face morphs. It’s almost indistinguishable, but she notices it. She thinks she would be able to spot the most minimal change in Kaz, she’s known him long enough for that. (Y/N) watches in amusement as he opens his mouth, no doubt to argue that he isn’t worrying at all, because Gods forbid he ever outwardly cared about anyone, but Jesper beats him to the punch and keeps going, “Heard some of Pekka’s Lions talking ‘bout how they’re not even going to try to come after her this time.”

“How boring,” she mutters to herself in disappointment, reaching for her glass of whisky. She’d meant for the comment to go unheard but Jesper’s snicker tells her that she wasn’t successful.

She takes a chug as Jesper points an accusatory finger at her and smirks, “That’s all on you, Marbles.”

At her bewildered look, he elaborates, “Two of them said something about not wanting to meet the same fate as the Razorgull guy from a couple of months ago—” (Y/N) smirks at that. The guy had deserved it. He hadn’t just tried to kill her, but also grope her. Murder she could understand, respect even, but touching someone else without their consent? No, she drew the line there. She’d had him swallow his own testicles; it’d seemed fitting enough. “—and the other one said that even if you hadn’t done that, he wouldn’t come close, not with you being Kaz’s right hand,” Jesper pauses for a second, a smug smile appearing on his lips, “and his best friend.”

Their reaction is instantaneous; Kaz goes rigid at the words and a smirk takes over (Y/N)’s features.

Oh, if the night didn’t just suddenly get better.

She glances up at her best friend, only to find him already glaring daggers at Jesper, who shrugs helplessly and innocently says, “Just telling it like I heard it, boss.” The flicker of amusement in his eyes reveals that he’s very much aware of just how much ammunition he’s provided (Y/N) with.

(Y/N)’s smirk becomes wider and gains a teasing edge when Kaz looks down to meet her eyes. His eyes harden, explicitly telling her to not utter a single word. Sadly for him, she has never been one to follow the rules, and Kaz must notice she’s not about to obey because his face morphs slightly, just enough to show the most minimum amount of discomfort. He cringes just the tiniest bit, bracing himself.

He knows her too well.

“You hear that?” she asks him, tone light and filled with amusement, “We’re best friends!”

“We are not,” Kaz tenses his jaw as he replies. He backs away from her, as if creating physical space between them will somehow stop the words from leaving her mouth and making their way towards him. As if distance could make her less of an bother.

(Y/N) fake gasps, clutching the skin over her heart in the most dramatic manner, “You wound me deeply, Kazzy.”

Jesper snorts, coughing to try to drown the laughter. She might be the only one who doesn’t get a knife to the jugular when calling him that.

Kaz’s eyes snap toward the Sharpshooter and the look must be deadly because Jesper quiets down immediately and tries his best to evade the boss’s glare. Kaz’s gaze then shifts towards (Y/N) and she perks up at the way his eyes harden even further in annoyance. He’s told her a million times to drop that ‘ridiculously stupid’ nickname and she’s decided she never will, not when it drives him to this point of exasperation.

(She’s a thrill chaser, you see. That’s what happens when you’ve seen just about everything and lived twice as much; few things get your heart pumping. And getting on Kaz’s nerves? That’s always exciting. (Y/N) never knows what to expect of him. The Bastard of the Barrel is unpredictable in a way that’s just delightful.)

“If you call me that one more time—”

“What are you gonna do? You can’t possibly try to hurt me. Best friends don’t do that to each other,” she mocks.

His eyebrow twitches, her grin stretches.

Oh, she’s going to have a field day with this one.

It’s obvious that Kaz knows he’s not winning this discussion because he walks forward, snatches the revised contracts and makes his way back to where he came from.

“Get those done before tomorrow afternoon.”

Boring. She was expecting more banter.

(Y/N) turns around to watch him leave, unable to stop herself from throwing a sarcastic, “Sure thing, bestie.” She does her best to sweeten the last word in a way that she knows will infuriate Kaz.

He freezes.

Bingo.

Even from afar, (Y/N) can see the way he tightens the grip on his cane. She’s thoroughly disappointed when he doesn’t throw a dagger her way. That would’ve been exciting. He takes another route, one she should’ve seen coming.

“I’ve got seven more files that need to be corrected. Collect them when you’re done with those.”

The corner of her lips tugs upwards slightly. There’s something thrilling about playing this game with Kaz, of seeing how much one of them can push before the other yields. He’s skilled and she enjoys the competition.

She ignores his order, “Goodnight, Kazzy.”

He slams the door on his way out, the only visible sign that she managed to get on his nerves. That’s mildly entertaining. Causing even the slightest slip of Kaz’s control over his temper is a success in her books.

“You’re out of your mind,” Jesper informs her.

She raises her glass of whisky at him and winks.

And that’s how it begins, as a joke. (Y/N) refers to Kaz as her best friend on every given chance. His reactions never disappoint.

There’s a lot of death threats;

(“Don’t mind him, bestie here is always grumpy.”

Clenched jaw, an exasperated sigh. “I will murder you.”

“Don’t tempt me with a good time, Kazzy.”

There’s a knife thrown her way. (Y/N) catches it with ease, whistling good-naturedly. She smirks when she catches the look of annoyance in Kaz’s face.)

and a lot of not so kind words thrown her way.

(“I get special best friend privileges, right?”

“You get tolerated,” Kaz mutters, “barely.”

“That might be the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me. Now tell me you love me.”

There’s that Brekker glare, one that would send anyone to an early grave. (Y/N) just smiles sweetly.

“Get out.”

“Whatever makes you happy, best friend.”

She cackles as she closes the door behind her, the curses Kaz is sending her way loud enough for her to hear.)

All in all, (Y/N) is as happy as can be. Having the time of her life, really. It’s not often that she finds something that makes Kaz fume. He plays the game too, of course. He has her going over financial documents and legal contracts on her free time, knowing just how much she hates the bureaucracy, and he gives her the household chores she despises the most. Still, (Y/N) doesn’t complain. She does everything with a smug smile on her face. The annoyance that flashes through Kaz’s face makes it all worth it.

The bracelet isn’t something she plans for, it really isn’t, but the Saints place the opportunity right in front of her and who is she but a mere mortal that must obey the signs evidently laid by otherworldly deities (or whatever bullshit those religious fanatics preach).

(Y/N) inspects the wristlets in her hand. They’re black and rough, made of broken-down nets that fishermen dispose of near the pier when the material has worn down beyond repair and is no longer useful. The little girl who had sold it to her couldn’t have been older than seven, and yet the design was more than decent. (Y/N) had offered three kruge for it, much more than it was worth. The child had looked delighted, had thanked her profusely as she’d placed the coins inside her worn-down shoes.

Oh, (Y/N) cannot wait to see Kaz’s face.

“What’s that?” Jesper asks as she meets up with him, eying the bracelets with a gleam of interest. He twirls his guns absentmindedly, missing the way some of the fishermen glance at him with distrust.

“Oh, you know, just some matching bracelets for me and my best friend.”

Jesper snickers, shaking his head and proceeding to let out a low whistle.

“This might be his breaking point.”

“Wouldn’t that be delightful.”

“You’re insane, Marbles.”

She gives him a wicked smile accompanied by a wink. She’s about to retort when she catches sight of a shadow on the corner of her eye. She recognizes it immediately as her target. Shopping, as fun as it had been, wasn’t the reason she and Jesper were waiting by the pier. They’ve got orders. She has people to torture and interrogate and dispose of— preferably in a quiet manner —and Jesper is Kaz’s way of making sure she’s got her back covered. (Not that she needs backup, but whatever, she has tried arguing with Kaz about it and it’s the one thing he won’t relent on, the one matter she’s accepted she won't ever win. Kaz doesn't play when it comes to her safety.).

“If you’re kind enough to hold these for me,” she places the bracelets on Jesper’s unoccupied hand, “I’ll be back before you know it.”

They make it back to the Slat before sunrise. (Y/N) had been quick and efficient, as she always was, and Jesper had been a quiet and solid shadow, as he always was.

“I assume it all went according to plan,” the Bastard asks when he hears their steps coming into his office. It’s late, or rather extremely early in the morning, and yet (Y/N) isn’t surprised by Kaz’s presence. He rarely sleeps.

“It went without a hitch, boss,” Jesper responds, resting against the doorframe.

(Y/N) hesitates for a split second, her memory providing a brief flashback to the interrogation she’d done, to three little words the man had let slip out: they’re coming for you.

A warning or maybe a promise.

Thrilling, either way. It wasn’t often that she was verbally threatened.

At the time, she’d dismissed the words, too filled with bloodlust to pay them any mind, but now, with a clear mind and a steady heartbeat, she suddenly remembers her face plastered on paper all over Ketterdam and wonders if the words might be related to the bounty on her head.

Oh, she hopes so. That would prove to be fun.

They’re coming for you. Good. Let them try.

She nods her head in agreement with Jesper’s words. Kaz nods in approval and then jerks his chin Jesper’s way, a clear sign of dismissal. The Sharpshooter never walks into Kaz’s office after missions like this. He’s an escort, a babysitter of sorts, merely Kaz’s way of making sure she heads his way instead of making a beeline for her bed.

(Y/N) sticks her tongue out at him and Jesper blows her a kiss in response.

Lucky bastard. It’s always her that has to stay up to report. And she hates to admit it, but she’s tired, she can feel the exhaustion begin to creep on her bones and settle in. She has been up for more than thirty-seven hours at this point, and she can feel it catching up to her. Still, she knows that Kaz prefers to hear details when the information is fresh on her mind, when she can provide as much detail as possible, so she pushes through for him. She just has to wait a little while longer before crawling into her bed and passing out for the next twelve hours.

“Marbles comes bearing gifts by the way,” is the last thing the Sharpshooters says before exiting.

A smirk takes over her features, sleep, exhaustion and the new information briefly forgotten.

Kaz is going to hate it.

Lovely.

Kaz seems to sense, probably by the wicked amusement on her face, that whatever it is it’s not something he’s going to enjoy. His face twists into a scowl.

“Out with it, then.”

She pulls out the dark bracelet from her pocket as she walks towards Kaz, dangling it in front of his face when she’s close enough.

Jesper had handed them back on the way home, tossing them over as soon as she’d wiped the blood off her hands. He hadn’t said a word, but (Y/N) knew that the action had meant to snap her out of the weird haze that clouded her mind after every mission, where adrenaline still coursed through her body and all she could think about was bloodshed, fingers itching to kill and maim and fight.

(It was a thing, the haze. When taking lives there was nothing but calmness and bloodthirst, the restlessness that always lingered beneath her skin subsiding as soon as a weapon was placed in her hand and orders were given. And as soon as the mission was done, as soon as the target was neutralized and she’d efficiently fulfilled her orders, fogginess followed. Her mind became clouded, as if somewhat trapped in a loop of violence, every nerve on edge and ready for any threat to emerge.

She was brought up as a killing machine, a child soldier, the best out of all the assassins produced by the Silent Blades, her father’s pride. She was ruthless, wretched, or at least those had been the words used to describe her when she’d been a child. She supposed the dissociative state she slipped into was normal when considering her upbringing, some sort of psychological shield that kept her from going insane.

She never spoke about it, but the Crows somehow knew. They often eased her out of it, knowing full well that when trapped in that state she had not an ounce of thought and only muscle memory to rely on, which made her infinitely more lethal.)

Jesper’s actions had worked like a charm. With something else to do with her hands, the fogginess had ruptured. She’d absentmindedly tied one of the bracelets on her own wrist, fingers playing with the edges of the other.

It’s that bracelet, the one on her arm, that Kaz glances at now. It’s brief, but for a split second the scowl etched on his face softens and something that she can’t quite catch passes through his eyes. It’s gone before (Y/N) can even begin to process it.

“Best friends have to have matching bracelets, don’t they?” And if she wonders about it later, she’ll blame it on the exhaustion, but the words come out softer than she intends them to. A jest, but not any less truthful.

Kaz’s face morphs and she gets a fleeting glimpse at that flicker in his eyes again. His scowl melts into something a tad bit gentler, the look contrasted by the aggressiveness with which he snatches the bracelet from her hand, “You’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met.” He means that and his tone has enough bite to make her cackle.

Amusing.

Placing her hands on her back pockets and shrugging, she responds, “That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Kaz snorts, “Go take a bath.” He dismisses her, turning around and making his way to his desk, “Reports can wait until you don’t look half dead.”

That’s unexpected.

(Y/N) raises her eyebrows, “You’re being nice.” It isn’t often that Kaz forgoes a report after a mission. He might’ve been more touched by the gift than he’s letting on.

“It’s for my own sake,” he retorts, not turning around, “you just stink and it’s making me nauseous.”

She does have a lingering smell of blood and sea water.

“Everything in this damned place stinks,” she responds. I know you’re lying, she’s saying, I know you’re being kind.

“Get out.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” (Y/N) mocks, walking out of his office.

She sleeps a full day after that, everyone knowing better than to bother her unless they want to lose to their head, and when she reports to Kaz the next morning the three words she’d heard from the man slip her mind. (Y/N) doesn’t remember them until a few weeks later when she’s tied to the ceiling by her wrists, face bleeding.

Now, she must admit, she’s impressed. No one had ever tried kidnapping before. There’d been more attempts on her life than she could even count; stabs resulting in blood being shed, never one drop of hers, poison that she had either swallowed down like a champ or identified before a single lick of it touched her tongue, because being raised an assassin meant she’d been trained in the art of toxins and she’d built up tolerance to pretty much every substance in existence, and that one time they’d tried to shot at her, which only resulted in (Y/N) stealing Jesper’s gun and placing a bullet right between the perpetrator’s eyebrows. All in good fun. Kidnapping was new, but only because those who had attempted on her life had never tried joining forces, all of them wishing to keep the financial reward for themselves.

Torturing, that was new, too.

She could endure, of course she could, she’d been trained for this. That did not mean she’d missed it.

The poster had stated she was wanted dead or alive and it was clear that the man in front of her wanted to take his time. It was personal, she could tell by the brunt of his hits and the delicate precision of his cuts. Had she been anyone else, she would’ve been begging for it to stop, but (Y/N) was a Silent Blade, even if she’d left the organization and that life behind, and she would never break.

The only reason she was in this situation was because the assailants had gotten the upper hand. They’d used one of (Y/N)’s street urchins— a little girl with piggy tails and two missing teeth, one of the ones who gathered information for (Y/N) and traded it for food and shelter —as leverage. And time had apparently made her soft because she’d hesitated. The brief second of doubt had been everything they’d needed.

Them subduing her didn’t mean she’d gone down without a fight. There’d been five of them in the beginning. Only three remained. She’d plucked one guy’s eye out, going deep enough to sever the optic nerve and cause brain damage, and she’d ripped the other’s ear with her teeth before slitting his throat. She’d managed to stab one of the three men remaining with a dagger before being injected with some unknown serum. It hadn’t knocked her out, not the way it was supposed to if the incredulous look on her kidnapper’s face was any indication, but it had drugged her enough to allow them to overpower her.

And now here she was, slowly bleeding out.

“I intent on handing your corpse to them and claiming the reward.” He’s been quiet for so long that (Y/N) had almost forgotten his presence. She doesn’t raise her head, only looks up. It’s hard to do so when her right eye is swollen shut. “But they never specified the conditions it had to be in.”

The man has his back towards her, fingers running through a box of tools. He’s used almost all of them on her by this point. Amateur. A skilled torturer knows to go slow, to drag it out, to choose a weapon and stick to it until the person is weeping and screaming.

“It was my brother that you killed.”

That sparks her interest, a smirk taking over her bloodied lips. She looks at him, dead in the eye.

“Which one?” she taunts.

The sound of her voice, still strong despite the blood loss, startles him. He freezes for a split second, hand over a wooden baseball bat.

“What?”

She snickers, blood dripping into the floor. “I’ve killed a lot of men, darling.” The way he seethes, fury filling his features, amuses her. “So which one was your brother?”

“You had him swallow his own testicles.”

“Oh, him,” she nods her head in appreciation. “Can’t say I regret it.”

Now he’s fuming, hand shaking so badly he almost loses the grip on the bat. If (Y/N) looks close enough she can see the resemblance. Same brown hair, same nose, same crazy look in their eyes.

“I’ll make you regret it.”

“You can certainly try,” she concedes mockingly. Because, honestly, there’s nothing he can do to her that she hasn’t already withstood.

There’s a raging roar and then a burst of pain. A hit to her abdomen, which no doubt bruised a rib, and then two to her back. But it’s okay, she thinks to herself as she wheezes and coughs, trying to regain air in her lungs, she knows how to play this game and how to win it. Keep him talking, keep him angry, let him think he has the upper hand, keep him from noticing how she’s preparing to break free.

“I wonder…” he murmurs, bat dragging behind him. “You’re not particularly remarkable.” She scoffs as he begins circling her, a tactic supposed to drive the prisoner into panic at the lack of vision of their assailant. Her heart doesn’t stutter. She’s trained to identify people and objects by sound not sight. She knows precisely where he is, even if she can’t see him. “So, what makes you interesting enough for the Bastard to keep so close?”

She grins, feral and with bloodstained teeth.

“Why don’t you come closer and I’ll show you?”

His face does not change but his step falters. “You cannot believe me stupid enough to fall for that.”

“You were stupid enough to tie my wrists with handcuffs,” is all she replies before dislocating her own thumbs and releasing herself from the shackles.

She hits the floor hard, body swaying for a second. Her hands are numb, nerve endings frayed. It hits her, now that she has to keep herself outfight, just how much blood she’s lost. The edges of her vision blur.

There’s a cut on her thigh, it bleeds heavily. Her back is all flayed skin. Breathing is hard.

It doesn’t matter. She only needs four fingers and half a mind to hold and use a dagger. She shakes the dizziness off.

He comes at her, but she’s expecting that. Sidestepping him is easy, kicking him in the back as he passes by even more so.

“You’re not much without your friends and a syringe full of drugs, are you?” she stumbles a little as she taunts him. Time is not on her side, she knows this. He’s cut deep in her arms and legs, no major artery touched, but with precision to give her a slow and prolonged death. She’s been steadily bleeding for hours.

(Y/N) has to end this. Soon.

He comes for her again, and she dodges, punching him right in the gut. He feigns left and she moves away, noticing too late the fist that impacts with the right side of her face. Despite the pain, she manages to stomp his toes and slam her knee against his balls.

That does it.

A high whimper leaves his mouth and as he struggles for air, she backs up. Keeping her eyes on him, her right arm reaches back to the toolbox. She knows what she’s grasped as soon as her fingers graze it.

“Say hi to your brother for me.”

The scalpel lodges itself right on his carotid artery.

“Nice,” she mumbles in delirium as she hears him choke to death. It’d been a majestic throw.

The adrenaline is gone in a second. (Y/N) stumbles backwards, barely aware of all the tools scattering around in the floor. She lets herself rest against the wall, slowly sitting down on the floor.

She’s going to die.

It doesn’t matter that she’s managed to get rid of that poor excuse of a man. She’s too injured. She knows.

(Y/N) isn’t scared. She’s tangled with Death for a long time, and as cold begins to creep in and the edges of her vision blacken, it feels like welcoming an old friend. It feels like getting what she has always had coming for her.

The tips of her fingers begin to tingle, her body’s desperate effort at keeping her heart pumping. Her ears are ringing, hard enough that when shouts begin all that she can hear are muffled sounds.

Then someone’s touching her face. She greets the warmth.

“Fuck,” she hears as she tumbles forward, her forehead landing on a collarbone. Jesper grasps the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair. At least, she thinks it’s him. Her brain feels mushy, but her nose has never failed her, and it smells like gunpowder and mint.

She’s laid down on the ground gently, probably to inspect her injuries before moving her.

“You’re going to be okay,” the Sharpshooter reassures her, but his voice is trembling. He’s scared. She must look worse than she feels, and she feels like she’s been attacked by a group of Heartrenders.

She wants to speak, to tell him it’s okay, but opening her mouth feels like an impossible task.

“Save your energy.” That’s Kaz. His voice is steady, but she can feel the underlying tension, the worry in his words. “You are not dying tonight.” And he says it with so much conviction, like he would hold her soul with his own hands to keep it anchored to her body, like he would keep her heart beating with pure willpower.

Her eyes look for him, but she catches sight of something else entirely.

“You’re wearing it.”

She must make no sense, words slurred, but Kaz understands. His whispered words are the last thing she hears before slipping out of consciousness.

“How couldn’t I?”

Then there’s nothing. She loses track of time. She comes back to her body from time to time, able to hear words but incapable of pinpointing the speaker. She’s floating, but there’s pain and aching.

“…too much blood, I don’t know…”

“…keep her alive.”

“I am trying!”

“Don’t try, do it.”

“…punctured lung, broken ribs…”

“…don’t know how she’s still alive.”

When she comes to the first thing that she feels is blinding pain. Everything hurts. Her muscles complain as she sits up. She clenches her jaw to keep the tears at bay. The worst is already over, she will not cry.

“Don’t move,” (Y/N) freezes at the command, her head snapping towards the voice. “Nina stitched you back together, I doubt she would be very happy to see all her hard work ruined.”

She gently eases herself back on the bed, fingertips running over her bandaged stomach. She can feel the edges of the stitches poking through it. It must’ve been bad, then, if she required stitches to keep the wound together. Usually, she’s a fast healer, a result of all the training she’d gone through.

“How long?” Her voice is raspy after not being used. Her throat hurts, which might be related to the way she was choked to the verge of unconsciousness several times while held hostage.

“Four nights.”

Bad then.

(Y/N) can feel Kaz’s eyes on her, assessing. She meets his stare, and it’s when she’s looking at him that a vague memory comes back.

Her eyes drift down to his wrist.

The twin bracelet to her own, the one she keeps tightly wrapped around her wrist, as if part of her own skin, greets her.

“You are wearing it.”

Kaz frowns in confusion, until he follows her line of sight. He looks away, hand clenching and unclenching over the head of his cane.

“Even after almost dying you’re still insufferable,” he responds.

But when he looks back at her, (Y/N) can see everything in his eyes.

How could I not, he’d said, and he’d meant it. If friendship was something that could bloom in a wretched place like Ketterdam, Kaz was her best friend and she was his, even if they’d never discussed it, even if they would never admit it. You’re the steady order to my unrelenting chaos, she thought to herself, someone I would follow to the end of the world.

He nods, as if reading her mind and agreeing with her.

“Rest.” That’s an order, one she has no intention of disobeying.

“Sure thing,” she responds as Kaz makes his way towards the door, “bestie.”

(Y/N) can feel the amusement in his words, “Absolutely insufferable.”

She smirks, toying with the ends of the bracelet’s strings.

(Y/N) never takes it off. Neither does Kaz.

[just-gay-thoughts]

The kids coming out traumatized aren't traumatized because of the content they were a part of, but rather the way they were treated when they weren't acting. If the kids in R rated movies are being treated well on set then they'll probably turn out fine. The child stars that are traumatized have been abused by the adults in their life. Judy Garland didn't end up with trauma because of the contents of Wizard of Oz, she was traumatized because the adults on set abused her (sexually if I remember correctly). And Hollywood was terrible to children and teens at the time, her entire life was dictated and she was forced to diet constantly.

As much as we see child stars coming out traumatized from starring in kids’ shows and movies, you gotta wonder how the kids from R-rated horror movies turn out.

[ghostofreach117]

Guns in Teyvat

I’m back on the worldbuilding grind🙏only reason I stopped was bc I ran out of ideas lmao. Love drawing guns

MONDSTADT

You will never find anyone with a firearm in Mondstadt. They simply don’t have the resources, money, or -most importantly- need for such an expensive product that is essentially useless. It is considered extremely rude to use a firearm when hunting as the sound scares animals away from other hunters in the area and their use is seen as “cheating” by the general population. Since they have such little presence in Mondstadt, there is little to no regulation on anything pertaining to guns (you really have to try to break the law). If you want to obtain one you must import the parts from Fontaine or Snezhnaya and assemble it yourself, and it’s a pain to buy them. If you are willing to go through all that trouble then either someone wants to kill you or you are out to kill somebody else. Probably both.

FONTAINE

Fontaine has mastered the art of mass production. Guns are produced by the hundreds (very impressive for such a centralized nation!) for the Fontanian military. They have been meticulously engineered for the utmost safety of the user. Fontanian firearms are prized for their lack of recoil, lack of tendency to jam, and innovative safety mechanisms, such as loaded chamber indicators and their revolutionary rifle decocker invention. This comes at the cost of power. Most Fontanian rifles and flintlocks/pistols take very low caliber ammunition and do not have the stopping power of larger firearms. They are much more suited for ceremonial use or intimidation as opposed to actual combat. There are a select few exceptions though. For example, Clorinde has had her twin flintlocks especially made for her, and they are known to take ammo she has to commission from an armory in western Fontaine.

SNEZHNAYA

If you were to ask anyone with a knowledge on the subject, they would tell you that Snezhnayan firearms are often exceedingly dangerous. They are known to jam, catch fire, and even explode. Hastily produced by independent armories contracted by the Fatui, they are low in cost and quality. In exchange, these guns are extremely powerful. The Ночной Ветер, for instance, is able to take cartridges of up to .50 (you can’t even purchase ammunition of this caliber outside of Snezhnaya). The gun laws and regulations in Snezhnaya are surprisingly strict, however they are not enforced. Fatui officers are more likely to take the 5000 mora offered by whomever they have tried to charge with illegal possession than actually arrest a lawbreaker. This has allowed an underground firearms market to thrive, especially among those who oppose the Tsaritsa.

Note: Snezhnayan firearms do not possess a safety. Once the gun is loaded, it is ready to shoot. Please exercise caution.

Double note: full auto guns don’t exist yet in my AU (subject to change based on what I think is cool) . I drew childe with an ak47 because it’s so him lmao.

INAZUMA

Inazuma’s strict laws have long forbade any type of firearm from being used, sold, or traded in the country to keep the nation in its eternal state. They have often been seen as useless foreign inventions that make the user weak by forcing them to rely on guns. Guns are also seen by some to violate the strict honor code that many Inazumans live by. Not even gangs or delinquents will use them.

SUMERU

Sumeru has outlawed any weapons that the Mahamatras deem to pose a danger to the preservation of knowledge. Surprisingly, there is little to no pushback on this ban. Those who reside in the desert find that grains of sand clog the inner mechanisms of guns, rendering them useless and forest dwellers dislike firearms for many of the same reasons Mondstadters do. The Corps don’t have trouble with smuggling when it comes to Sumeru natives or tourists, but they keep a watchful eye over the Fatui diplomats, occasionally requiring a search, as their presence often heralds political maneuvering rather than genuine interest in Sumeru’s knowledge. Evidence of this can often be found in the remains of crime scenes, weapons tend to be left in the riverbanks of the forest, and though exceptionally uncommon, there have been reports of firearms bearing Fatui insignias being uncovered underneath muddy outcrops by riverbanks. Though this is all coincidence, of course. It must have been a rouge terroist from Fontaine.

Other notes

I mentioned this previously, but guns and ammo are SUPER EXPENSIVE. The average person would never be able to afford/maintain one.

Guns are extremely difficult to use with a vision. Unless you have your gun created for you by a specialty armory, you won’t be able to channel elemental energy through one.

On the other hand, Guns are very easy to counter if you have a vision or a delusion due to the fact that they require many small, intricate parts working together perfectly to fire. Whether through making the metal brittle with frost or softening it with flame, it’s very easy to neutralize a gun. Best to keep them out of active combat. Swords, bows, and catalysts are much more effective thanks to their simplicity. It’s a lot harder to stop a giant hunk of metal hurling towards you than freezing a gun.

Um. I did not mean for this post to be as much of a yap fest as it was. Lmk if I was confusing or if you have questions I love talking to people 🙏🙏

[ozzgin]

Hello.

Do you think I can request headcanons for Nakamaro ?

Like in an alternate route, reader and him (he's in his twenties because... magic ?) are married and reader is pregnant.

But the funny thing is, Nakamaro can't bully the yokais because reader will exorcise him each time he tries.

Aaaaah I finished writing and only afterwards it occurred to me you might've wanted a modern day reader for this. 😭 I imagined the events in his own timeline. Oh well. I think it can work both ways. Just replace the ancient pouch with, I don't know, a visa card that he throws at your parents for wife payment.

Yandere! Onmyōji x Reader

Yokai Harem AU as the wife of Abe no Nakamaro, a legendary sorcerer and collector of yokai. Although you're not quite as powerless as to not keep his cruelty under control.

Content: female reader, arranged marriage, mentions of pregnancy

[Main Story] [Character Guide]

Your family had vehemently opposed the marriage. To think their one and only daughter would fall into the hands of such a cruel man. The famous Abe no Nakamaro, descendant of Abe no Seimei himself, has quite a contradicting reputation. He has saved many lives, cured countless illnesses, protected villages from monsters and brought peace to the land. Yet many have also witnessed his ruthless nature: the arrogance he has towards humans, the disdain and utter disgust he harbors towards demons. He is quick to punish, rarely forgives, and never forgets. The yokai he’s captured under a binding contract are kept on a leash, like cattle before slaughter.

It is this man who approached your parents one day, when you were still young, demanding your hand. He claimed you had special powers and a lot of potential under the right guidance. Such spiritual prowess would waste away in a family of plebeians. You don’t remember much of the discussion, only the expressions: the man’s mocking grin as he threw a pouch fattened with coins, the frown of your parents who wanted to refuse, the uneasy, grim eyes of the horned demons brought to intimidate. It was clear they were there against their will. One will find just how difficult it is to go against the wishes of the onmyōji, and you happened to be his most ardent desire. Thus, with a heavy heart, you’d been sent away with the stranger who promised you were to live a life of luxury. One your parents could never afford.

True to his word, you have not struggled since. In Akutagawa’s short masterpiece, Hell Screen, artist Yoshihide is wicked and vicious towards everything and everyone except his beloved daughter. Similarly, the sorcerer seems to have a soft spot for you in particular. He often praises your talent, and patiently caters to your whims without complaint. You once inquired about it yourself, as the idea weighed heavily on your mind: why is it that he does not show the same hostility towards you? He stared at you as if you just grew two more heads. "You're my wife. What else is there to question?"

This favoritism, however, is to the benefit of everyone. Especially to the yokai under his command. You've grown rather fond of the demons in your years spent alongside them, and they've quickly learned that your presence means safety from any punishment. Some need reassurance more than others. To these you've even begun to feel like a motherly figure, shielding them from the wrath of an unforgiving master. At last, an authority even Abe no Nakamaro himself can't disobey: the word of his wife.

And soon enough, as if your marriage wasn't already the ultimate argument, you welcome the return of your husband with the news he's always longed for: you are the soon-to-be mother of his child. His name has just been guaranteed to continue its course through time. To say he is elated is an understatement. You've only seen him smile so genuinely once before in your life, on your wedding day.

"Can you imagine the powers this child will command?" He muses, referring most likely to the fact you've both been blessed with an innate, unmatched talent in onmyōdō. You finish rolling the parchment paper and gently tap his head with the scroll in a scolding manner. "You better not burden the kid with your bizarre expectations!" The same man feared throughout the country is chuckling apologetically at your gesture. "As the Mother says."

[boujiestpoet]

STARCROSSED

SOCIAL MEDIA/NEWS chapter 1: Appaled

NEXT CHAPTER.

MASTERLIST

Summary: Two people and the rest of the world discover that their partners ain't shit

FACECLAIM: The extraordinary Tems

THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. THE BEHAVIOUR OF THE CHARACTERS DOES NOT REFLECT THE REAL PERSONALITIES OF THE INDIVIDUAL UPON WHOM THEY ARE BASED. I AM MERELY BORROWING THEIR PHYSICAL LIKENESS AND THE PROFESSION THEY HAVE FOR THE SAKE OF THIS NARRATIVE

TW: Cringiness from the writer, grammatical errors (have mercy english is my semi firsr language)

Heartbreak in Hollywood: Renee Bennett’s Devastating Betrayal by Boyfriend Ben Field and Best Friend Leah Dawn

By: Sarah Caldwell | Celebrity Insider

In a shocking twist that has left fans reeling, beloved actress Renee Bennett has found herself at the center of a scandal that could rival any of her on-screen dramas. The star of the upcoming epic “Northern Winds” has been blindsided by the ultimate betrayal—her boyfriend, model Ben Field, and her best friend, influencer Leah Dawn, were caught in a scandalous embrace that no one saw coming.

The Scandal Unfolds: A Shocking Revelation

Renee Bennett, who recently returned from a grueling five-month shoot in Norway, had been looking forward to reuniting with her boyfriend, Ben Field. The couple, who had been dating for nearly two years, were widely regarded as one of the most stable pairs in the industry. But all that came crashing down when Ben and Leah were spotted kissing in New York City, a moment that has sent shockwaves through Hollywood.

Paparazzi captured the scandalous moment late last week, with Ben and Leah sharing a passionate kiss outside an upscale Manhattan restaurant. The photographs, which quickly went viral, have left fans in disbelief and sparked a media frenzy. To make matters worse, Renee had just returned to the U.S., believing she was coming home to her loving boyfriend—only to discover this devastating betrayal.

Best Friend Betrayal: Leah Dawn’s Double Life

What makes this betrayal even more heartbreaking is that Leah Dawn wasn’t just any woman—she was Renee’s closest confidante. The two had been inseparable for years, often seen vacationing together and supporting each other through the ups and downs of fame. Leah, a well-known social media influencer, had built her brand on the image of friendship and loyalty, making this act of treachery all the more shocking.

Leah Dawn was also dating F1 driver Charles Leclerc, a relationship that had its own share of drama. Rumors swirled that Charles was on the verge of proposing to Leah, but according to a recent blind item, his mother was reportedly not in favor of the union. The news of Leah’s infidelity has now thrown that relationship into question, leaving fans to wonder if the engagement is now off the table.

Renee’s Response: Silence Speaks Volumes

Since the scandal broke, Renee Bennett has maintained a dignified silence. Friends of the actress describe her as “heartbroken” and “utterly blindsided” by the betrayal. Renee, who has always been known for her professionalism and grace, is reportedly focusing on her career and taking time to process the situation away from the public eye.

“Renee is devastated,” a close friend revealed. “She never imagined that the two people she trusted most would betray her like this. Right now, she’s just trying to come to terms with what happened and figure out her next steps.”

Where Do They Stand? The Aftermath for All Involved

As for Ben Field and Leah Dawn, neither has made a public statement about the scandal. However, insiders suggest that both are facing significant fallout. Ben’s modeling contracts may be in jeopardy as brands distance themselves from the drama, and Leah has lost a significant number of followers on social media as the public turns against her.

Charles Leclerc has remained silent amid the scandal, leaving fans wondering about the status of his relationship with Leah. The F1 driver has not been seen with Leah since the photos emerged, and sources close to the couple suggest that the situation has left him reeling. With rumors of a potential engagement now in doubt, it’s unclear whether Charles will continue his relationship with Leah or if this scandal has irreparably damaged their romance.

A Love Story Shattered

This heartbreaking turn of events has left fans and Hollywood insiders alike questioning how such a betrayal could happen. Renee Bennett, who has always been the picture of strength and grace, now finds herself facing one of the most challenging moments of her life. As she navigates this painful chapter, her fans are rallying behind her, offering support and urging her to stay strong.

While the future remains uncertain for all involved, one thing is clear: Renee Bennett’s story is far from over. This betrayal may have shattered her trust, but it has also shown the world just how resilient she truly is. And as she steps into the next phase of her career, all eyes will be on Renee to see how she rises above the heartbreak and emerges stronger than ever.

Author's Note: And I'm back as I promised how do you find the social media chapters, advices are always welcome

[chris-prank]

I need the reaction of the baes (Vincent, Esteban and Atlas) to reader thirsting loudly for strangers online. Like full on down bad simping.

I love these kinds of ask about multiple of my ocs. This way they are all compiled in one post 😆 so thank you mellsfern! 

Now jealousy timeeeee

CW: Possessive behavior, manipulative behavior and mention/use of a syringe (in Vincent’s part) 

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

Vincent has been monitoring your online activities for a while now. It was his favorite thing to do after a long day of working on new inventions for Fatalité, being able to sit comfortably in front of his computer and check what you were up to.  But lately… you’ve been checking one person’s account a bit too much on Slowgram. You liked their post the second they were up, why couldn’t you be dedicated like that with him instead!? What made his blood boil the most, was the private conversation you were having with your friend about this influencer. Paragraph after Paragraph were filled with praises, words of adoration and lewd comments on what you wanted to do to them. At first he thought it was just a passing infatuation, but he couldn't keep watching you lust over someone else, it made him see red. Dr. Seraph didn’t even have to hack into that influencer's computer to find their address, this idiot had it plastered all over their socials. At this point, they were just asking for it! At the dead of night, he easily entered their house. Hovering over the sleeping form, his face showed a scarily cold expression.  

“I was lacking a test subject for my latest invention.” With precision, he plunged a syringe in the person's neck, “I wonder if they'll still think you're attractive after I’m done with you.” 

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Esteban snatched the phone from your grasp. One minute you were alone in the living room, liking every post of a guy online and the next you were empty handed. Unbeknownst to you, he was actually stalking your account before all this and happened to see your liked posts. 

“What’s your deal?!” You jumped out of the couch, trying to take your property back. 

“What’s my deal? What about yours Mmm?!” He pouted, raising the phone out of your reach, “You have a guy with the literal body of a Greek god at your disposition and you're gawking at this?” 

He shook one picture in your face before retrieving it quickly. “Can you even tell that he is photoshopped? I don't need that cheap trick to look appealing.”

He couldn’t let you thirst over this loser and act like nothing was wrong. You shouldn’t need to feel the urge to simp over anyone else! All you need is him, him! That’s why he didn’t have a choice, Esteban had to have your device altered so you could never see that person's face again on any app. Without saying a word he headed towards the front door. 

“Hey! Give me my phone back!” 

“Don’t worry, I’m buying you a better one with some needed modifications.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Atlas stared at the picture that you were showing to him on your phone. He already knew your feelings towards this influencer. Having connected to your social media without your consent, he had seen that you were commenting on this person's post a bit too often for his liking. Still, he acted oblivious when you started ranting about them. 

“Aren’t they just so perfect!? Like they are so fine I caaaaan't!” You groaned and contracted your other hand as if you were a predator closing in on its prey. 

He really couldn’t understand what you liked about them that he didn’t have. He could at least console himself with the fact that this person unobtainable, that they would never be a part of your life, unlike him. But still, he hated knowing that you had eyes for someone else to this extent. 

Atlas leaned down, looking at you through his long and pale lashes. “I can be anything you want me to be, you know. I can change my hair color to match theirs or even my personality if that’s what you want.” Then, the android slowly lowered your phone down by gently taking hold of your wrist, “So no need to think about them any longer.” 

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

I love showing Vincent’s murderous and sadistic side, especially when it’s related to his darling. Also possessive Atlas is just a cutie pattotie.

[dreamwatch]

Know When To Hold 'em

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest

Day #17 - Prompt: This One's For You | Word Count: 999 | Rating: T | CW: death of a parent, depression, grief, referenced drug abuse, alcoholism | POV: Steve | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Wayne Munson, Eddie needs a hug, protective Steve, hurt/comfort

I'm sorry. :(

The first time it happened totally out of the blue.

It was their first big show in Indy, their home show, and of course Wayne wanted to be there, as much out of curiosity as anything. He didn’t hear a thing; Steve gave him a set of ear plugs and it was like he’d been handed a pot of gold. “I could have done with these years ago.” But he saw everything and he talked about that show to anyone that would listen, and a few that wouldn’t.

Eddie was over the goddamn moon about it so he told the audience, “My Uncle Wayne’s here tonight, everyone say 'hi Uncle Wayne!'” and five thousand people just— did it. Because Eddie asked them to. Even through the ear plugs Wayne heard it. Steve’s not sure he’s ever seen the old man blush before.

So it became a thing completely by accident. If Wayne was there they played The Gambler as the last song of the encore; like the flag at Buckingham Palace telling everyone the Queen was home: Uncle Wayne was in the house. The fans latched onto it straight away, and it was one of only a couple of songs that Eddie would sing. Wayne didn’t see the band play often but it didn’t matter where they were, the moment that song started up the crowd went wild; the roar of “Hi Uncle Wayne!” rolling through the audience before everyone sang along. And Wayne there at the edge of the stage shaking his head, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

Eddie was in Germany when Wayne died. 

‘The best that you can hope for is to die in your sleep’, sang The Gambler, and that’s exactly what he did. Wayne would have got a kick out of that.

Breaking the news to Eddie was the most painful thing Steve’s ever had to do.

Tonight is their first night back after a two month hiatus. It feels too soon, but there are contracts, missed shows, obligations, and there’s only so much their manager can do to keep the label, promoters and lawyers away. 

Eddie’s dead eyed and lethargic; he’s started drinking again, Steve discreetly hid his pain medication when he noticed the bottle emptying faster than it should have. He sleeps with a belly full of Ambien and spends his day wrapped in Zoloft. Neither help.

But the show must go on, right? 

Despite everything, the grief, the fog of depression, when he walks out onto the stage he’s a supernova, the brightest of lights in the deepest of darks. He’s fucking dazzling. 

The crowd at the Market Square Arena are on fire, they explode when the band run on stage but Steve doesn’t miss the extra noise when Eddie gets out there. Eddie loosens up as the gig goes on, and by the end, when they take a bow together, he looks like a different man to the shell thats been haunting their home. 

There will be a crash later. Steve is already prepared for it.

The band come off drenched with sweat. Steve can see the pinched expression on Eddie’s face, the exertion after all this time lying around like a ghost has taken its toll on a body that has seen better days. But he still smiles at Steve as he hands off the guitar to his tech, his Sweetheart, only brought out for the encores now. 

“Was it okay?” Eddie asks him, towelling the sweat from his face.

“You were amazing,” is all Steve can manage right there, but he’s buzzing inside and there’s more he wants to say. But that’s for later, when it’s just them.

The band are handing off instruments, roadies scurrying around, breakdown already underway. There’s a lot happening, and you know, Steve’s hearing isn’t that great these days but there’s nothing wrong with his eyesight. He sees the little commotion over Eddie’s shoulder, the way people halt, ears pricking up like labradors. Jeff turns to Steve with wide eyes and Matt has stopped in his tracks. And then he sees the exact moment Eddie picks up on it, the furrowed brow, the soft tilt of the head.

The crowd are singing Wayne’s song.

Everyone stops. Roadies stand there like marionettes with their strings cut.

And Eddie…

He looks devastated, his hand flying up to his mouth like he’s trying to bury a sob, stopping the grief from breaking containment.

Steve can see the band over Eddie’s shoulder, heads nodding before they’re grabbing guitars back from their techs. He knows what they’re going to do, but there’s no way Eddie is up to it, they have to know that. Jeff slings an arm over Eddie’s shoulder, pulls him in, knocking his forehead against Eddie’s. And then Matty does it, Matty who doesn’t have a sentimental bone in his body, but Gareth is long gone, already running back onto the stage, crowd cheering at the sight of him, before Matty and Jeff follow him out. And they pick up where the crowd are and they play. Eddie usually sings it, but Jeff takes it tonight. 

Steve grabs Eddie’s hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. “C’mon,” he says, pulling Eddie toward the side of the stage.

Steve loved Wayne, so fucking much. And maybe with all the help and care Eddie needed afterward, still needs, maybe Steve didn’t get a chance to grieve properly. He feels the ache in his chest, before he notices the calloused fingers wiping his tears away.

“He loved you, Steve.” He can’t reply, just nods, and Eddie holds him like he should be holding Eddie. And then he’s gone, out on to the stage, back with his band. No guitar, just sharing a mic with Jeff and joining as much as the tears will allow. And then the music cuts, Matty and Gareth joining them at the mic, and it’s just voices, nineteen thousand and four. Corroded Coffin, arms slung across shoulders, singing Wayne’s song. 

Singing to Wayne.

Yeah... I went there.

So, I had this idea months ago and parked it because I didn't know what to do with it. And then this prompt came along and BOOM!

[dailyadventureprompts]

Villain: The Knights of St. Kazvarin

There's pious and selfless devotion, and then there's whatever these weirdos have going on

Riding forth from their brooding fortress-abbey to do the will of a long dead holy man, these inscrutable warriors have long been the subject of rumour and suspicion. It's not an undeserved reputation, as apart from looting tombs for ancient relics or ominously observing the goings on of the common folk these forboding knights are most often acting as the hired muscle for unscrupulous nobles who have no regard for the legality or virtue of the orders they enforce.

Far more than mercenaries with a patina of piousness, the Knights use these contracts to fund a secret and sinister endeavour that they have undertaken for centuries.

Adventure Hooks:

While delving through a dungeon the party follow a trail of slain monsters to a gravely injured knight and his thoroughly overwhelmed young squire. The boy will introduce them as Tilaen and Ser Darrik respectively and ask for their aid in tending to his master's injuries, before the dour Knight chides him for speaking on his behalf and tells the party to be about their way. Ser Darrik wants no help from "the faithless" and is willing to use the last of his strength to get violent about it. If cooler heads prevail, the party will learn that the two were after a rare manuscript hidden somewhere within the dungeon, and the offer of collaboration might be explored. If the party don't help, they'll find the squire waiting for them at the dungeon's entrance, requesting their help to bury his master and guide him back to their order's abbey. It's only after a few days of travelling together will realize that Squire Tilaen is muchabused by his sect, and that steering the boy away or outright adopting him might be the real kindness.

Acting as a stern and imposing shadow to whatever asshole noble or callous merchant the party have recently pissed off, the towering and always helmed Ser Gelceiras has "Bossfight" written all over him. However when the adventure's final confrontation looms the party find him cleaning off his massive axe, his employer's head in a bloodsoaked bag waiting to be delivered to them. "We got what we wanted from him" he rumbles as he exits, " you can have what's left. no hard feelings."

Just a new threat encroaches on the settlement, a mace wielding bruiser in burnished armour rides up and pledges to fight alongside the party in its defence. Ser Portia's skill as a fighter is sorely needed, perhaps enough to overlook whatever agenda it is that drew her to the settlement in the first place. Shortly after the final battle is fought and the dust clears, the party will realize Portia is nowhere to be seen... having escaped sometime during the aftermath after inexplicably kidnapping one of the locals.

Background: Before he was a sacred corpse, Saint Kazvarin was a necromancer of great talent, having dedicated his life to the study of thanatology and the many loopholes around death. This earned him great renown and wealth in his day, amazing the masses with seances while charging the powerful dearly for cut-rate resurrections. He amassed generous patrons and fanatical followers, only to have it all fall apart when the Raven Queen took an interest.

Kazvarin had and constructed his own bootleg afterlife, a place where his most loyal followers would rest forever in glory before being called back in time of greatest need. Atleast that was the sales pitch, in reality the "saint" had stopped just short of lichdom delving into the shadow to create a demiplane where his own soul would reside undeminished after death, sustained by the faith of his followers as the realm hollowed them out.

Such villainy inevitably created it's own downfall in the form of a young woman who's family were taken in and exploited by Kazvarin's cult. Though her name was not recorded by history, she was marked by the Duskmaven for greatness when she swore to tear down the saint who would conquer death, years later succeeding along with some allies in not only killing the necromancer but cursing him with a most ironic fate. Denying him the afterlife he had so meticulously constructed, the raven queen cursed Kazvarin with reincarnation, forcing his soul to live out a new life where it would forget all he knew and be remade.

It would have been a perfect punishment had the Saint's followers not been so fanatical. Though their organization had been shattered by their "benevolent" leader's apparent assassination, the most loyal of his inner circle poured through his research, finding the spells nessisary to seek out his soul in its new vessel. Thereafter they engaged in a grim hunt, crossing the realms to ritually sacrifice the youth their leader had grown into and pulling free his undigested soul. This is the cycle Kazvarin's followers have been following for generations, spending decades hunting for signs of their leader's return before using murder and necromancy to forcibly deincarnate him. Thereafter Kazvarin has a few months or years to act freely before he is swallowed back up by the tide of souls and the hunt begins again

Future Adventures:

Though they begin as a comparatively minor oddity, the knights become a true threat to the campaign as soon as they figure out who Kazvarin's current incarnation is and manage to wrest his soul out. Ideally this should be someone the party knows, to make it all the more tragic that they were sacrificed to bring about the villain's return.

Though it is much deminished, Kazvarin's demiplane (called the Howling Basilica) still traps the souls of those who have sworn their lives to him, acting as a vault from which he can pull rank upon rank of shadow-maddened spirits to his bidding. His most loyal retainers are allowed to keep their skills and individuality while being deprived of their will, meaning he has a backlog of highly skilled Knights just waiting for new bodies to possess no matter how many times the party defeat them on the field. What's worse is that the saint still remembers how to manipulate people with the offer of offbrand immortality, and will likely begin reaching out to powerful individuals shorty after his return.

Art 1

Art 2

[thegnomelord]

Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land Ch: 1

CW: Canon typical violence, gore and violence, Canon alterations, GN reader for now, eventual Kim Dokja/reader/Yoo Joonghyuk, AO3

Summary: When you were a child, you learned two lessons. One of them, your parents had carved into your bones with tongues as sharp as swords: Some things will always be out of your control.

Perhaps this was why you had emersed yourself in fiction from a young age, because it allowed you to feel true freedom through the lives and struggles of the characters, to live out their happy endings even if your treacherous heart didn't allow one for yourself.

But those times were coming to an end.

Here you were, a foreigner in Seoul, one contract away from losing all you had worked to achieve. At times like this, you would wonder what the protagonists would do, what you would do in a lawless world like ORV, where the lessons you had learned would loose their meaning...

Could you reach your own happy ending? Or would you fail once again?

As they say; Be careful what you wish for.

It's funny how quickly life can fall to pieces.

Not even two weeks ago you had still been known as the choreographer and back up dancer of 'cODe X', a relatively underground kpop group quickly garnering mainstream popularity thanks in large part to your unique and 'chaotic' style of choreography meshing wonderfully with their abstract sense of music. And you were good at your job too; whether it was working from the shadows as their dance coach or on the main stage as a back up dancer, one thing was clear— you knew how to entertain.

Of course working for them hadn't been all sunshine and roses, as the many sleepless nights could attest. Frankly you had lost count how many times you had stayed late in the studio, chasing away fatigue with caffeine and prayers just so you could perfect a routine. Seeing as their boom in popularity and subsequent employment offer at a entertainment company had only happened a few months ago, the pay hadn't been the best either, but you didn't mind.

Hell, considering the bloodthirsty viper pit that was the Korean job market for foreigners, you were quite lucky to be working for them, and having to deal with their sleazy employer, than working one of the dirty, dangerous and demeaning jobs Korea would often offer to people like you...or worse: getting deported.

But your luck has run out.

Because some things will always be out of your control.

Now here you were; Sitting in a prestigious restaurant turned impromptu courtroom, where the judge was nowhere to be seen and the other costumers, like bought jurors, paid no attention to you or your plight. And why would they? Though you were the wronged party here, you sat at the table not as a victim deserving justice; But as the antagonist, as the villain.

Because the 'victim' had already won, and this farce was just for show.

...

Black beady eyes stared back at you through the glass as if it saw kinship between the two of you. But that was just your mind trying to console you; You knew that the only thought in the things' head was the instinctual drive to protect its unhatched young still stuck to its tail. It didn't even notice when one of it's kin was pulled out of the tank, leaving only two lobsters where once there had been three, just because someone had gotten hungry and decided they wanted grilled lobster tail.

You supposed you were no better than them, your life in the hands of someone else. Yet unlike the lobsters, who floated around the tank as they were still beneath the sea, you weren't ignorant to the powers that be...so why did that not make you feel any better?

A bottle of soju was placed on the table, tearing you away from your thoughts. You watched the waiter girl give a shallow bow and scamper off, turning your attention to the so called 'victim' of this mess.

Or you would have, if the damn copycat had actually showed up.

Instead of meeting the smug smirk of Juin, the bastard that had copied the choreography you had invented and performed step for step and then accused you of stealing his ideas, you were instead greeted by the best lawyer his daddy's money could afford; Although you hadn't paid enough attention to remember his name, the smile he had given you at the start of the negotiations would've made the devil proud.

You didn't have enough money to hire a snake like that, and going to court over this matter with your budget was out of the question. Hell, the only reason you had a competent lawyer of your own, instead of the one the entertainment company had tried to give you, was because he was a fan turned friend of yours.

"As I was saying," The lawyer cleared his throat. He was a short man and looked old enough to be mistaken for one of the Elders. "My client is happy to drop all charges provided your client issues a public apology and agrees not to sign any more choreography or dance specific contracts for the next four years." And just like the Elders, you couldn't underestimate him.

"Are you kidding me?" Choi Chin-Mae's bewildered voice pulled you out of your musings.

Chin-Mae was short even by Korean standards, and looked like a pipsqueak when next to you. His eternal baby face only complicated matters, with light brown hair and honey colored eyes he looked more like your little brother than a man one year away from being thirty and several years your senior. Because of his youthful appearance, people would underestimate him in the courtroom, and in doing so would unwittingly dig their own graves as Chin-Mae turned out to be a vicious lawyer when he could go before a judge.

"Non-competition agreements must be fair for the one sighing it, but what you are asking of my client is grossly abusive and would impair my client's livelihood and employment opportunities more than the common six month long NCA's." Chin-Mae argued. "And, I can't believe I have to say this, but you would know that such a contract is illegal and wouldn't be binding in any country, least of all ours."

Unfortunately, you couldn't go in front of a judge, even if the claims were baseless, the attorney and court fees would surely bankrupt you. It's the reason why you had agreed to try settling this outside of court.

The opposing lawyer smiled at Chin-Mae as if he was a child, "Mister Choi, my client isn't asking for them to sign an NCA."

You could see Chin-Mae narrow his eyebrows, his mouth opening to form a rebuttal, but no sound came out as the other lawyer held up his hand, taking a long sip of his soju. When he was done, he put the glass on the table, before speaking. "My client expects yours to do this on their own accord, without a signed NCA."

"That's preposterous," Chin-Mae scoffed, "No judge would allow that." He shot back, already beginning to form another reply when he was cut off again.

"Oh?" The lawyer asked, a smug smirk playing at the corners of his lip. "Then would your client like to go to court over this matter as we had originally intended and see what the judge decides?"

Chin-Mae closed his mouth, his lips pressed into into a thin line. You could see the gears in his head turning, struggling to come up with a rebuttal.

You sighed internally. As sad as it sounded, you were used to this; This disappointment and failure and powerlessness.

Maybe that was why you felt so calm at the moment...either that or the stress over the past few weeks had made you numb as a rock. Either way, Juin was richer and more influential than you, and with his daddy's money, you were certain that the populace would see you as the selfish copycat and the truth would be buried six feet deep where it could rot alongside your reputation.

Was this how the author of TWSA felt when SSSSSS-grade Infinite Regressor came out and became wildly popular?

"Of course, my client isn't heartless." You found that hard to believe, but held your tongue. "He is willing to offer a...different method to resolve this problem."

You and Chin-Mae glanced at one another, your friend only shrugging his shoulders as the other lawyer rifled trough his suitcase.

"Here we are," The lawyer pulled out a thick stack of papers bound together at the corner. You had to assume it was a contract, though even in the entertainment industry you had never seen a contract that was as thick as a Bible.

He placed it on the table, sliding it towards you. You only managed to read the first few lines, most of it meaningless lawyer lingo, before Chin-Mae snatched it and began reading through it, softly mumbling some legal jargons under his breath that you had no hopes of understanding.

"What is Juin offering?" You asked, far too tired or numb to call the copycat with any respect (not that he deserved any).

The lawyer didn't even bat an eye at your disrespect. "In short, the employer of my client is offering for you to come work under my client." He explained, taking another long sip of his drink. "You are remarkably talented for someone so young," He offered, the compliment wounding your pride more than any insult from your parents ever could. "It would be a shame to see it wasted for such a stupid mistake like the one you had made."

You narrowed your eyes, but otherwise were able to hold your poker face. "And my obligations if I signed it?"

Judging by the fact that Chin-Mae had grown as silent as the grave while reading the aforementioned contract, whatever was in store for you wasn't good.

"My client still expects a public apology for the damage you had caused to his reputation." The lawyer gave you an innocent smile, "You will also be required to terminate your previous contract with your current employer, but that one is obvious." He then began listing off even more conditions, from low wages to obscenely long work hours and even more draconian requirements.

It was little better than the slave contracts the 'cODe X' members had signed.

Chin-Mae echoed your sentiment, nearly frothing at the mouth as he slapped the contract on the table. Still, he was able to hold himself back from starting off his sentence with an insult. "The contract says nothing about their visa, how can we be sure you shi—"

Quick as a flash you elbowed him in the ribs, punching a pained sound out of him and cutting him off before he could say something stupid in the heat of anger. He glanced at you, before nodding his head and clearing his throat. "...Will the company provide continued renewals of my clients' work permit provided they sign the contract?"

The lawyer watched this all go down with amusement, but luckily didn't comment on your minor display of violence. "That is correct." He nodded his head, turning to look at you. "The entertainment organization has already prepared all the necessary documents on their end, barring your employment contract, which we are discussing at this moment." He motioned to the stack of papers sitting on the table.

Your friend grew silent, watching the old lawyer take a sip of soju, before he asked. "Is there room to negotiate the details of this contract? Multiple aspects and stipulations of this contract leave a legal grey area and the employer's expectations for my client aren't any clearer."

Or, in other words; it was legal on paper, and only on paper.

"I'm afraid not," The lawyer have you a sympathetic smile, though you were sure it was about as real as Juin's nose if the tabloids about his plastic surgeries were to be believed. "This is the only contract my client is willing to offer you...no alterations allowed." The old man leaned into his chair as he finished off his soju, motioning to the papers in front of you. "You can sign it now or you can meet my client in court and let the judge decide the outcome. What do you say?"

Oh, you had a lot to say, most of it unfit even for a PG18 audience.

To think that this bastard had framed you as a plagiarist, dragged your name and reputation through the mud, and was now aiming to squeeze what joy and creativity you had left in your soul like it was a wet rag...and he hadn't even bothered to show up in person to do so.

A dark voice, locked away deep in the caverns of your heart, whispered a seductive thought in your ear: Drown the lawyer in the lobster tank!

But you shouldn't, couldn't, do that.

Chin-Mae sagged in his chair, looking at you with a worry in his eyes. "What...what should we do?"

You frowned, what else was there for you?

You pulled the contract in front of you, flipping over to the last page. You reached into your pocket, fingers ghosting over cold metal as they went past it and grasped the dojang you carried around. At this point, the instinct to carry it around was no difference than the ingrained need to have sharp steel hidden in your pocket or boot.

"What other choices do we have?" You asked, the question rhetorical in nature.

"None that would be in your best interest." The lawyer helpfully informed you, pushing forward a small contained of red dojang ink. You were only slightly surprised they weren't asking you to sign the devil's contract with your own blood, though the irony of red ink wasn't lost on you.

The dojang hovered over the signature mark, the nerves you had locked away so well until now making themselves known through a slight tremor in your hands which only got worse the longer you hesitated. Oh, how you wanted to take matters into your own hands, like the protagonists of ORV or some other manga. Those heroes who could to push through their problems or fool the gods themselves, forging their own path with nothing but the strength in their arms and their wits...But fiction wasn't reality, and some things would always be out of your control.

If only you could change your future.

The lights cut out, plunging you in darkness.

A shiver raced down your spine, followed closely by a cold sense of wrongness.

"What's happening?"

"Must be a power outage, nothing to worry about."

"Well they better fix it quick, I haven't finished eating."

You paid no attention to the voices of the other restaurant goers, something at the back of your mind urging you to check your phone. Your hand was already reaching for it long before your brain had fully processed the thought. The light burned your eyes, but even that failed to garner your attention as your eyes settled on what resided on your home-screen:

You have 5 new messages from: tls123

The lights came back on, but you didn't put your phone down, instead quickly opening the messages.

tls123: I am sorry. We failed.

tls123: In truth, I don't know how this happened, but you are here now.

tls123: Maybe you can succeed where we failed.

tls123: This should help.

tls123: [Attached 2 files titled 'Three Ways to Survive in a Ruined World.TXT', 'Omnipresent Reader's Viewpoint.TXT']

You stared at your phone, unease and confusion bubbling in the pits of your stomach. Thoughts rolled around your head like tumbleweeds, forming questions which demanded answers you didn't have; Was this a joke? Was someone pranking you? It wasn't like bored teenagers never texted weird shit to random numbers, but they were never so specific.

On instinct you pressed the download button, before trying to type back a message. Only you couldn't; any letter you pressed would lag for a good five seconds if it even registered at all. Despite your best efforts, all you had typed out was an incomprehensive mess of letters. It seemed like your phone was using everything it had just to download those two files.

With a strange sense of deja vu, you checked the time on your phone — 7:02 p.m.

You couldn't tell what you felt at that moment; Anger? Sadness? Disappointment? Foolishness maybe?...This was real life, not fiction, what were you doing fooling yourself into thinking that it could be any different?

The call of your name from the lawyer had you switching off your phone and quickly putting it back in your pocket. "Yes, I'll sign it." You picked up the dojang, re-applying the ink. This time you only hesitated for a second before placing your seal on the dotted line, resigning yourself to your fate.

Then you heard a voice and you didn't even notice when you mouthed the words it said in sync with it:

[The free service of planetary system 8612 has been terminated]

[The main scenario has started]

You blinked rapidly before rubbing your eyes, wondering if you had finally lost what marbles you had left.

Then Chin-Mae muttered by your side, "Is that a...Dokkaebi?" Then a second later, under his breath. "I've got to cut back on that shit."

You whipped your head around quickly to look, forgetting to ask what that shit was as your ears began to ring, the dojang quietly slipping from your fingers at the sight you saw.

Floating in the center of the restaurant was a...a small furred creature, its off white fur contrasting with the tattered skirt/loincloth it had around its waist. Two budding horns sprouted from its head, like those of a little Billy goat.

"Wow, is this a new attraction?"

"It's kinda ugly looking."

The voices of others rang like church bells in your ears, yet they accomplished one significant thing — they proved that you hadn't gone insane just yet and that this thing was real.

As quick as you could you grabbed your phone, scrolling through your downloads until you found it: TWSA, all 3,149 chapters of it.

You scrolled through the chapters, only reading bits and pieces of it all as some part of you tried to prove to you that this was all just your imagination. You felt something at the back of your mind ding as you read through the chapters, lines you had seen in the ORV novel scattered among pages and pages of what had to be the original TWSA.

You looked up as the little creature tried to speak, but you already knew what would come out. Though it still surprised you how the language it spoke vaguely sounded like a bastardized version of your mother tongue.

['*#(w&$!*$!]

[#*@!%a!(*s(#!@#*&!]

"Hey, isn't that your language?" Chin-Mae asked, turning to look at you.

You shrugged one shoulder, no less confused than him. "If it is, that's the worst accent I've ever heard."

Then a few seconds later, you heard perfectly pronounced Korean leave the little creature's mouth. "I, I am really sorry everyone, the Korean patch wasn't...um working properly." It said, but something was strange;

Why did it look like that, you knew webtoon artists took some liberties but you were certain that the Dokkaebi from ORV was white with golden horns, not off-white with brown horns. And it certainly hadn't been as polite, and was this really how it sounded in real life?

The little creature cleared its throat. "Now...May I have everyone’s attention, I, I have big important news!” It tried to sound commanding by raising his voice, but either because of fear or stage-fright it failed to garner the attention it wanted.

"Do you think they sell plushies like that?"

"Do you really think the girls would like it?"

"Mommy I want one! I promise I'll take good care of it and feed it, and walk it, and pick up after it!"

You had no idea how that was possible, but parts of the Dokkaebi's fur turned pinkish red almost like it was flushed from embarrassment. "I, uh-I mean-mhh!" It flinched suddenly as if hit by some unseen force. It turned into itself slightly, a small galaxy appearing in its hands. "My...My apologies d-dear constellations! I-I, uh...I will begin right now!"

With that you saw its horns elongate, becoming almost as big as the rest of its body.

A shiver raced down your spine, blood roaring in your ears.

You knew what would happen.

"This is stupid." The lawyer muttered, standing and quickly grabbing the contract you had all but forgotten about. "I am afraid I am unable to stay to this childish theatric, until next time we meet."

Chin-Mae flinched, pushing his chair back as he began to stand up to stop the lawyer. "Now wait a minute we aren't fini-"

Quick as lighting you reached out and grabbed him by the shoulder before roughly pushing him back down, your fingers digging into his shoulder with a level of savagery and roughness he didn't think you possessed. Any protests he tried to make were silenced by your palm quickly being pressed over his mouth, not letting a single sound escape him. You pushed his head to look at you, your fingers digging into his cheek and jaw hard enough to leave bruises.

He grabbed your wrist, trying to pull your hand away, only to freeze in place when his eyes met yours.

You didn't think you wanted to know what he saw in them. 

'Don't. Move' You mouthed to him, not even a whisper escaping your lips.

[I need you to listen to me!]

A shot rang through-

Then the screaming began.

Several more shots rang out-.

The screams stopped as multiple heavy objects hit the ground.

A leg landed on your table, spraying you with blood.

Your palm muffled what pathetic noises Chin-Mae made, his trembling hands gripping your sleeve in a bruising grip.

Though your iron-like grip on his mouth kept Chin-Mae looking at you, his pulse thump thump thumping like a war drum beneath your fingers, you couldn't stop yourself from looking.

It was like a car crash, you couldn't look away. Your eyes wandered around, unable to settle on one specific thing; From the sight of blood stained immaculate floor, to the multiple limbs scattered around the place like morbid decorations, to the bodies of those who had tried to run laying on the floor. They were surprisingly still alive, writing soundlessly as they tried to stop the bleeding. You glanced at where the lawyer had gone to, only to find him alive with a missing leg.

[I..Did I do good? Yes?]

Slowly, you let go of Chin-Mae's shoulder, motioning for him to stay quiet with your hand. You waited until he nodded, before pulling away your palm from his mouth, his hands still gripping your forearm.

His chest rose to hiccup and you were prepared to slam your hand back over his mouth...but he held it it, biting his lip hard enough to make it bleed. A stray tear slowly rolled down his cheek, his trembling hands bound to leave bruises on your arm.

[Then, I-]

The Dokkaebi coughed, its voice returning to normal. "I have to inform you that...that the free service of this planetary system has ended. As of right now you will have to pay for your lives." It looked up, as if listening to someone.

Evidently it wasn't something nice, as a moment later it visibly flinched into itself, almost hugging the galaxy to its chest. "Ri-right, we are already behind schedule!" It began fumbling with something in the galaxy you couldn't see, sweat condensing on its fur in visible drops.

You blinked, a small window emerging in front of your eyes.

[The main scenario has arrived!]

[Main Scenario #1 — Proof of Value]

Category: Main

Difficulty: F

Clear Conditions: Kill one or more living creatures

Time Limit: 30 minutes

Compensation: 300 coins

Failure: Death

You stared at the screen before raising your head enough so you could look around with just your eyes, your thoughts running a mile a minute. Not a single person dared to move a muscle, afraid that doing so would draw the furry fairy's wrath even when the game had already started. You knew you had to be careful too, you weren't the protagonist of TWSA or ORV, and without any powers the information you possessed would only take you so far.

Wait...attributes!

Quietly you whispered 'Attribute Window' under your breath, half expecting to be met with an error message.

Only you didn't receive anything at all.

What?

Turning on your phone once again you scrolled through TWSA, a shiver racing down your spine as you found yourself reading through nearly ten chapters in less than a minute. Then you quickly switched over to ORV, hoping to find something or for something to happen when you read it, though you were unsure how much this information would help you considering you weren't in a train car. But it had worked for Dokja, and you had read it as well...so why wasn't it working for you?

[The Dokkaebi smiled faintly as it became transparent and disappeared into the next space.]

You glanced up at the Dokkaebi. It was still floating in the air, watching the people in the restaurant as if they were the predator and it was the prey. Why? Surely it knew how much power it had over you? And why hadn't it disappeared after giving the announcement? Bihyung had done that in ORV...wait!

You nearly facepalmed, this wasn't Bihyung! It only took you a few seconds to scroll through ORV before you found the creature most resembling the one in front of you: Youngki, the low-level Dokkaebi who took over when Bihyung had been busy. When he had first appeared he didn't know how to show messages; it would make sense why you weren't getting any notifications, he probably didn't know how to turn them on.

But why wasn't Bihyung here? Wasn't he the one streaming in Seoul?

You would have to search for answers to those questions later, right now you had to survive.

You checked the clock, only a single minute had passed, yet you knew if you didn't do something you wouldn't have much time left. In ORV Youngki was a pushover, and now that you had TWSA, you had a better chance of making a deal with him like Dokja had made with Bihyung. And more importantly, you knew how this game worked.

You wouldn't survive playing by the house's rules.

You glanced at the lobster tank, the water had been dyed a scarlet red as the two lobster munched on some unfortunate person's arm.

Then you looked around at the people, every single one of them frozen stock still like statues. Without someone to spark the fear in their hearts to make them act, they would all die. You doubted there were any chuuni in the restaurant to incite the violence as there had been in the train...If you didn't act, you would be no better than them, but could you live with yourself after knowingly sentencing these people to death? How would that make you any better than the monsters or the constellations?

Chin-Mae's trembling pulled you out of your thoughts. Though his hands still clutched your arm like a lifeline and he stared off into space beyond you, the look in his eye told you that it wasn't fear that made his arms shake, but rage.

You made up your mind.

People would die regardless, but in this apocalypse only those willing to fight had a chance of survival.

"Chin-Mae, listen to me." You gently slapped his cheek, cursing to yourself when he continued to stare past you into oblivion, consumed by whatever war was happening in his head. "This is a bad situation, but if you want to see Junior again, you have to listen to me." You hissed, and that got his attention better than a kick in the balls could.

Was it manipulative to use her against Chin-Mae? Maybe, but what choice did you have?

"Really?" Chin-Mae asked, voice barely above a whisper.

You hummed instead of answering and pointed to the lobster tank. "See that?"

He followed your finger with his eyes and nodded when he saw the unlucky crustaceans. You asked him to look at the scenario conditions again, and you could clearly see him reach the same conclusion you had; it never said the living thing had to be human.

You quickly told him your plan in hushed whispers, "Do you understand?" You asked as you pulled your other hand away from him, his fingers lingering on the fabric of your clothes before he let go.

"Ye-Yes." You nodded as he answered, before reaching down to your boot. You grasped the handle before quickly pulling out the knife hidden there, offering it to Chin-Mae.

"Huh?!" Chin-Mae sputtered as he looked at the blade, the metal glinting under the restaurant's lights. "Why-uh...why do you have this?"

You shrugged your shoulder; Now wasn't the time to delve into your skeleton stuffed closet just to answer that question. "I'll tell you later, now shh." You shushed him and urged him to concentrate on the plan, waiting for him to nod in confirmation before you stood up, one hand reaching into your pocket to feel the comforting cold steel of a second blade hidden there.

You felt something at the back your mind tingle, but it disappeared before you could figure out what it was.

Taking a final moment to prepare yourself mentally, you began walking towards the furry fairy. You passed the old lawyer on your way towards it, his silent begging for help with his eyes amusing some dark part of you. Any good person would have tried to help...But you had to concentrate on the living.

After all, you couldn't turn back time, you only had one shot at this.

"Hey, fluffy!" You called, garnering the attention of every pair of eyes in the room, coming to stand as close to the floating creature as you could while still keeping a safe distance.

"Huh, whah?!" It turned around so quick you were surprised it's neck didn't snap. "Are yo-ah- are you talking to me?"

Were there any other furry fairies around? You wondered to yourself, but you quickly realized you had said that out loud as dusty pink patches quickly spread all over his body. "Say," You quickly began, hoping a change of topic would cover up your verbal blunder. "You're new to this streamer business, no?"

Your words made the Dokkaebi jump so hard his horns nearly touched the ceiling. "Wha-how-why-how do you-" He sputtered as he flew down to be right in front of you, the galaxy clutched tightly to his chest like he was a child with a toy.

You couldn't hold back a snort at that thought, quickly waving off Youngki's confused questions. "Well for one, you haven't enabled notifications and messages." You informed him, "I'm certain the constellations would like for us to know what they have to say." You added, aiming to light a small fire under his ass.

The dusty pink patches on Youngki's fur became dark red as he fumbled around with the miniature galaxy in his hands, "I, I, I am so sorry- I" You could see several stars in the miniature galaxy blinking in sync, as if laughing at the pint sized pipsqueak as he stuttered out more apologies, flushing an even deeper shade of red as he realized he didn't know how to do it.

"The 'on' button should be somewhere around...there." You tried to help him, motioning with your hand vaguely to the center of the galaxy in his hand as you recalled reading something about it in TWSA.

After a few moments he seemed to have gotten it working, a low sound of accomplishment leaving him as messages began popping up.

A sharp pain bloomed behind your eyes. You groaned and clutched your head, willing your eyes to stay open as message after message appeared before you. The novels never mentioned anything about the messages making your head hurt...

[#Yo-7623 channel is open]

[The constellations have entered]

[Your reading speed has increased due to the effect of the exclusive attribute '?????']

[You can't activate the Attribute Window]

[Exclusive skill, 'From the Shadows Lv. 1' has been activated in the background]

[You are one step closer to the conditions to use the exclusive skill '????? Lv. ?']

[You are close to the conditions to use the exclusive skill 'Genesis Lv. 1']

[Several Constellations laugh at the Dokkaebi 'Youngki']

[Several Constellations are curious about you]

You waved away the messages with an irritated sound leaving you, the pain behind your eyes disappearing as soon as you did so. You would have to look at those later.

Shaking your head to chase away the lingering pain you turned back to look at Youngki, who was now looking at you with apprehension. "Now then," You began, "Do you what's the fastest killer of infant streams like yours?"

Youngki shook his head like a little kid and floated just a bit closer to you, staring at you as if you had all the answers to the universe, the galaxy still held close to his chest.

"Boredom." You spoke innocently, "Now, I don't know about the constellations, but no sponsor of mine would ever wait half an hour for nothing interesting to happen." You explained, putting your other hand into your pocket, the very embodiment of nonchalance. "Matter of fact, they'd be gone after ten minutes and wouldn't waste their time with you ever again." Something dark inside you found it amusing how the Dokkaebi's face grew more and more horrified as you continued to speak.

[The constellation who likes to change gender nods at your words]

The message scared the little guy even more than your words had; you were certain he would've had a heart attack the moment the message had appeared if he could.

"Fortunately for you, I'm something of an entertainer myself." The devil himself would have been jealous of the charming smile you gave Youngki, "So, how would the mighty constellations like raise the stakes?"

You were playing a dangerous game; like Russian roulette, only the constellations didn't need a gun, bullets, or a kick in the ass from lady luck to cut your life short. You couldn't make any mistakes, after all, there was no way to rewind time.

[You are one step away from being able to use the exclusive skill 'Genesis Lv. 1']

[Several constellations want you to elaborate]

"It's simple really," You shrugged. "A Constellation may choose to take off three minutes off the clock, in exchange for say...a 100 coins added to the overall reward." You explained, adding that the overall time left couldn't be less that 3 minutes, you were human after all.

[Several constellations look at one another]

"Or don't." You shrugged, pulling your hands out of your pockets, the hidden switch blade grasped tightly in your closed fist. "There's no shame in admitting you are afraid to lose your money~" You teased—

[The constellation who likes to change gender laughs at your boldness]

— It was the boldest, and dumbest, thing you could have ever done.

[A constellation has agreed to your terms]

Fortunately for you, fortune favored the bold.

[The time limit has been reduced: 27:24 → 24:24]

[The Compensation has been increased: 300 → 400 coins]

You smirked to yourself, but the smirk fell quickly when a different message popped up.

[The clear conditions have been changed: Kill TWO or more living creatures]

You cursed to yourself. You had known this might happen, yet you still hadn't expected it; a stray line in TWSA echoed in your mind as if to mock you: [The thrill seekers will always ask for more death]

That last message was like a fatal crack in the dam, and soon many more messages flooded your vision, pain blooming in your head as you watched the time rapidly decrease as the compensation increased and clear conditions changed. The other people watched you with growing worry and horror, yet even this wasn't enough to spark their survival instincts into action.

By the end of it, the compensation had risen to 900 coins, the time had decreased to just 9 minutes and 20 seconds, and the kill requirement had risen to 6 or more.

You hummed as you stared at the holographic screen deep in thought. You should temper your greed, yet as you looked up at the Dokkaebi, your eyes positively glinting, you knew you couldn't resist the tempting pull of fooling the 'Divine'.

"You know, if you wanted to make this even more interesting..." You paused, before shaking your head in an exaggerated motion. "No," You waved your hand dismissively, turning on your heel. "I don't think you could afford it."

You were only able to take a single step before the furry fairy had zoomed around to face you at the speed of light, stuttering out pleas to stop. A message from the, no doubt irritated, constellations popped up, only to be waved away without being read. "What?" You asked innocently, a new message appearing before your eyes.

[Some constellations are insulted, and wish to know your offer]

"Double the rewards and you can half the current time by half." You said, before quickly adding. "Without increasing the amount of creatures we have to kill, there are only so many people here." You waved your hand around in a vague gesture. "I swear to you, this will cause quite the commotion, and wouldn't that be entertaining?"

Right as you asked, a holographic video feed popped in the center of the restaurant, screams filling the silent restaurant, showing people killing each other all over the country.

[Die! Die!]

[No, please!]

[Don't hurt me!]

You could tell the specific moment when every single person figured out what you were doing. The collective fear in the restaurant so strong you could feel it on your tongue as you breathed. "So, what do you say?" You asked as if you didn't notice anything, looking up at the small Dokkeabi.

[Multiple constellations consider you a fool]

"Maybe I am," You admitted, "But fools make for great stories."

Your nonchalant answer seemed to shock the people into finding their own. Almost immediately after you had finished people began shouting:

"Don't listen to them!"

"Damn brat do you want us all killed!"

"Please spare me!"

"I don't want this!"

[The constellations accept your offer]

You didn't even wait for the next pop up windows to open, "Chin-Mae, now!" You ordered, your voice silencing all others. Something inside your skull shuddered, a thought that didn't belong to you whispering in your ears:

[The exclusive skill 'From the Shadows Lv. 1' has finished preparing, execute?]

Yes.

[The exclusive skill 'From the Shadows Lv. 1' has been executed]

A shiver raced down your spine, you could feel it in your bones, like something in the bedrock of the world had snapped.

A second later something black flew towards you. You just barely managed to catch it, slamming it violently on to the table, black sludge exploding over your hand, clothes and the people seated there.

...

[You have achieved the ‘First Kill’ achievement!]

[You have killed a living creature]

[100 coins have been earned as additional compensation.]

[You have killed a living creature]

[100 coins have been earned as additional compensation.]

...

Message upon message appeared before your eyes, you were quick to wave them all away before they made you head explode. You stepped back, the seated patrons staring at the crushed lobster eggs staining the tablecloth before looking up at you in bewilderment.

[Several constellations are displeased]

"Oh don't be like that," You rolled your eyes, holding up your hand, still stained black from lobster caviar. "The rules never stated that I had to kill humans, and lobster eggs are living creatures." You wiped off the black sludge staining your hand on the less noticeable portion of your clothes, knowing you would need to find a change of clothes after the scenario was over; blood and lobster sludge did not look good on you. "It isn't my fault you left the rules so vague."

[The constellation ‘Children of Mischief and Chaos’ are impressed by your scheme]

[The constellation who likes to change gender is impressed by your wit]

By mere chance you glanced to your side, only to see Chin-Mae standing in front of the lobster tank, the female lobster wriggling in his hold as it tried to protect the valuable eggs held under her tail. His other hand held the eggs, yet you could see it shaking, all of his attention concentrated on the videos of slaughter that were still playing above you.

"Chin-Mae, you moron, destroy tho!-"

You slapped your palm over your mouth as soon as your voice had registered in your brain, but it was in vain.

Every single person turned to Chin-Mae, ready to descend upon him like rabid dogs.

What have you done...

"Get him!"

[The constellations laugh at you]

[thebestofoneshots]

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 10.7 K Warnings: None Prompt: Some of Peter's ideas have very convenient fundamentals... This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely: @aremuslupinsimp

Chapter 33: More Than a Feeling

November 30th, 1976

You knocked on the door before you entered the class. Seraphina was standing beside her desk and nodded to let you in. You smiled and went straight to sit next to Remus. He had carried your bag and placed it on the seat next to his, to save a space for you. You smiled when you saw him and thanked him silently as Seraphina continued to talk. 

She was going on about dark magic and how bIood is often involved in rituals of its kind “As you know, every living being has magic cursing through their system. But it’s not quite that it emanates from them but rather that you have the capacity to store it. Muggles don't have such an ability, which is why they cannot wield magic like we do. Some people can use this magic more than others, and some can learn to improve their capacity to store and to use the magic around them for spells.”

“Is this a first-year class?” A Hufflepuff girl scoffed behind you. 

“And while this seems like basic knowledge, it goes a lot deeper than that, Miss Anderson. Those who wield magic for many years, start developing changes in their system. From simple things like being able to do wandless magic by developing their skill to use their body and hands to cast spells, to more elaborate ones, where you alter your bIood, or even your very soul, for example.” 

There were whispers in the background after she said those words. Students knew how dangerous dark magic could be. They knew it could taint a soul and corrupt the finest of wizards. But most of them also knew that sometimes there was no other choice than to use them in self-defence. Especially with the whispers of the war, it was not unheard of that some wizards had used the unforgivables against deatheaters. 

“In this class, we have seen hexes and curses that could protect you, we’ve talked about courses and magical contracts. Binding bonds and spells, etc. We’ve faced against some dangerous creatures and defeated them. We’ve duelled each other,” she threw you a look “and had some unfortunate accidents, but those are to be expected.” 

She sighed, “Today we’ll be talking about an interesting but dangerous thing. BIood rituals. Anyone have any idea what I might be referring to?” 

Lily raised her hand, “BIood rituals are the use of spells that require bIood, either a bIood sacrifice or just a few drops of someone’s bIood. They can be very dangerous and powerful, and if used to harm, they can even bind the person whose bIood has been used in the spell. They aren’t all dark magic, but they can be extremely dangerous.” 

“Excellent, Miss Evans. 10 points for Gryffindor,” Seraphina said while Lily beamed. “Indeed, they can be extremely dangerous. But it isn’t dangerous all the time. In fact, some bIood magic is used in the simplest of things. For example on magical contracts.” 

“Like the ones used in the past in the Triwizard Tournament,” Imogen said out loud. 

“Indeed Miss Potts,” Seraphina said. “Your great-great-grandma was a participant, correct?” 

“She won,” Imogen said proudly. 

“That’s right, I apologise for my ignorance on the matter. But it is correct, to put their names in The Goblet of Fire the students had to give a drop of their bIood too, as a way to bind them, since once they were chosen there was no way out of the tournament.” 

“An awful event if you ask me,” Lily whispered to Marlene, they were sitting right in front of you and Remus.

“I don’t know,” you said. “I think it was rather interesting, testing your magical skills against real but controlled threats, seems pretty cool to me.” 

“Of course, you would say that,” Lily said as she shook her head. 

“What? Why?” you asked with a small frown “I genuinely think that–” 

“Because you tend to like dangerous things sweetheart,” Remus said as he gave you a look. 

“Well that’s–” 

“You play quidditch,” Marlene intervened, “And you are in the duelling club. You like danger, the adrenaline rush and all that.” 

“You would love to be in the Triwizard tournament, wouldn’t you?” Lily added. 

“Well I never said that but… I suppose I would try signing up for it.”

“There you go,” Lily said as she turned back around “It’s the kind of thing that would suck you in like nifflers drawn to shiny things.” 

“I’m surprised you haven’t gotten in much more trouble so far,” Marlene added as she too turned around. 

Remus chuckled and you threw him a look. “Or… she’s just really good at not getting caught.” 

You scoffed, diverted at that and shoved him lightly. He just gave you a teasing smile in response. You’d realised Remus had gotten the habit of teasing you a lot more often the past few days. At least as much as you used to tease him. 

After that, you turned back to look at Seraphina, who kept talking about contracts by bIood, secret keepers, the Fidelius Charm and other kinds of magical bonds. Remus on the other hand, hadn’t quite gone back to the class. His mind had gone off, thinking about Lily’s words, what they implied and what he eventually said: Because you tend to like dangerous things, sweetheart. 

Is it possible that that is why she…

“…do you agree Mr. Lupin?” Seraphina asked startling Remus out of his thoughts.

He looked at her wide-eyed and turned his gaze to you, throwing you a pleading look. You bit your lip and grabbed your quill, scribbling something on your parchment as quickly as you could and moving it towards him as casually as possible. 

Remus scanned over your paper, but you hadn’t exactly been very specific with it either. It only said “BIood Bonds Bad?” 

Remus swallowed and turned back to Seraphina “Well, I think it’s not possible to have a certain yes or no opinion on the matter, it’s a matter of how you use them and for what. For example, if you’re using a bond to bind someone to you against their will, to make an imperious stronger or to curse their bIoodline then we can all agree they’re terrible. Dark wizard stuff even. But if you use bIood for a magical contract to make sure both parts will fulfil it, or to deepen your connection with someone or even to protect someone by sacrificing yourself, then the line becomes a lot more blurry.” 

Seraphina seemed pleased by his answer and nodded “Brilliantly said, Mr. Lupin. That is indeed why we are taking this class, and why I consider it so important. I want you to pick a position, either for or against, and then you’re going to work in teams to form a debate in which you’ll go over the good and bad of using bIood magic.” 

People started to split the classroom when Remus turned to you “Thanks,” he muttered. 

You smiled and turned to him. “What’s got that pretty head of yours in the clouds, hm?” you asked. Not even realising you had casually called him pretty, perhaps the veritaserum wasn’t completely out of your system yet, prompting you to say a lot more than usual. 

“I was thinking of someone.” 

“Someone… And may I know who that was?” 

“No.” 

You pouted, “But I helped you.” 

“Are you gonna charge in the favour?” 

“No, but telling me would be the polite thing to do,” you said with a shrug.

He pulled his head to the side as he sucked in some air with a bit of a shrug. “You’re outta luck. I’m not feeling very polite today.” 

You bit your lip at that, thinking of a clever retort when you felt two arms wrap around your waist from behind and pull you to the owner’s chest. You knew it was Sirius the moment you felt his hands on you, not because you were an expert on his hands, but because you could smell his cologne –or perhaps it was his shampoo or just him– the moment he stepped on your personal bubble. 

He then dug his face into your neck, you saw Remus advert his gaze, and you could have considered it politeness but, there was something else, you frowned looking at Remus as your eyes narrowed, and then Sirius pressed his lips to your neck, on the exact same spot he had sucked a hickey the past week and the scarlet flags lurking on the sides of your mind were washed away in an instant. After all, you were probably just imagining things, right?

“Sirius, what are you…?” You asked and he pulled his head away from your neck and pecked your cheek, his movement had been so sudden that you were startled into silence. 

“You looked so pretty from afar,” he admitted “don’t know why Moony insisted on sitting so far from me and James.”

“You were being loud, you would’ve brought us in and we would have lost more house points,” Remus responded simply. Of course, that wasn’t the reason. He was feeling a little more jealous than normal that day. Probably because you had gone and kissed Sirius on what he considered his time. On potions, you were his partner, not Sirius’.

Sirius pouted, his chin now resting on your shoulder as he looked at Moony. “So what are we, for or against?” he asked. 

“Hm? We’re all gonna be on the same team?” you asked. 

“Well duh, why do you think we’re here,” he said as he pointed at James and Peter. 

“Well... I think against is too easy,” you said. 

“What’s wrong with easy?” Peter asked. 

“It’s boring,” Remus and you replied almost at the same time. 

“Nerds,” Sirius said, chin still resting, you pushed your shoulder blades back to nudge him and he just smiled, “but the best nerds,” he added then. 

You rolled your eyes. “So we’ll be for?” Lily asked, “I think it’s a great choice.” 

“I agree,” James said a little too fast. Lily threw him a look and he just shrugged and gave her a wink. 

“Well then for it is,” Marlene said. “This is our side of the classroom anyway, isn’t it?” 

Lily nodded, and you all started to dig through your books to try and find arguments that would back you up on the debate. Learning a couple of interesting things about bIood magic with the books that Seraphina had borrowed, some of them from the restricted section. And while most things in those books were warnings about the ill use of this kind of magic, it did point out some of the uses they had for good.

The debate had gone quite fast. And while the other team had great points in their favour, in the end, all of you put up a great front against them. You thought it had been really fun, and Mary mentioned it was a very muggle way of teaching, and that she remembered having gone through a similar exercise at her elementary school before Hogwarts. Which had been rather interesting since according to your knowledge, Seraphina was a pureblood. 

Saturday, December 4th, 1976

It had been a grueling day. Apparition had finally started to involve the physical act of apparating and it was exhausting. Professor Dumbledore had taken each student one by one on an apparition so that they got the feeling of it. Some of the students that had never done it before ended up puking all over the grass. Mary had excused herself to go to the infirmary to get headache pills. Lily had thrown herself into the grass and stared at the sky for several minutes while taking deep breaths. 

Peter had to swallow his own puke, and this wasn’t the first time he’d ever apparated in his life. Remus had done quite well. He had appeared on the other side of the grass with a straight face and had walked over to you calmly. 

“It wasn’t that bad,” he said as he approached you “I thought it’d be worse.” 

You frowned at that, you didn’t remember your first time apparating, since it had been when you were a baby, but your mom would always tell the story that you cried and cried for hours after it. And then it took a small dose of calming draught to get you to sleep that night. The next time they did it, the result had been similar. Eventually, you got used to it.  But by the reactions of the students that had never done it, you figured there was no possible way that it “wasn’t that bad” which is why there was only one answer to Remus’ reaction. He was used to a lot worse. 

You almost wanted to hug him after it, but you knew he’d think it weird, and if he knew it was because you felt bad about his situation, he’d think you were pitying him. And Remus Lupin hated to be pitied. Even if it wasn’t pity what you felt, you just thought your friend was so brave, and he had gone through so much already. It's silly, you thought, but you still wanted to hug him. 

Thankfully you were quickly distracted by Sirius who went next, coming back to you from the other side completely unaffected by it, exactly like James had. The latter boasting a little about how good he was, saying it had to do with how much quidditch he practised when, in reality, had a lot more to do with how many times Effy and Fleamont had apparated him. 

When it was your turn you approached Professor Dumbledore calmly. He called you by your last name and extended his arm for you to hook yours onto. “I understand you have apparated before, have you not?” He asked calmly. 

You nodded “Yes sir, my parents have been apparating me since I was very small.” 

“Correct. Have you ever tried to do it on your own?” 

You shook your head in response, and then frowned… “Well… there was one time in my previous school in which I attempted to do it with a friend. I was young and… well we splinched badly. She had the worst of it. I had to stay at the infirmary for almost 3 whole days. She stayed for the entire week. We got detention for it.”

Dumbledor raised an eyebrow at that, “And you haven’t tried again since?” 

You shook your head. “We promised we would enrol in the class together, and then I moved… so suppose there wasn’t really a reason not to try again anymore but… I’ve been rather busy since I got here.” 

“So I’ve heard,” he said with a nod, an almost imperceptible smile on his lips. 

You gave him an awkward smile in return and he tilted his head as if asking if you were ready, to which you nodded. In no less than a second, he was apparating the two of you to the other side of the field. 

Your stomach turned upside down when you were on the other side, not because of the apparition, but because of the memories brought along with it. One second you were in class, with your arm locked on Professor Dumbledore, the next you were in the forest, launched across Barty’s shoulder against your will. 

The memories flooded your head without you having a say on it and the moment you landed on the other side you were tense, seething with anger, panic and helplessness. You blinked and tried to steady your breath, your eyes seeking something to anchor to, and you spotted Sirius, who was talking to James with a huge smile on his face. 

Two people noticed your restlessness. First, it was Dumbledore, who had seen the scenes of the memory you had accidentally projected into his mind as he apparated the two of you. You had been studying occlumency the last few days and you had unwittingly transmitted all of it straight into him. He turned to you, noticing how much less relaxed your grip on his arm felt. 

“Are you all right?” He asked calmly. You somehow managed to nod, your eyes still trying to focus on Sirius’ laugh instead of the memories that plagued your mind. But Dumbledore didn’t let go of you yet. “I would suggest you take the rest of the day off.” 

“What?” You asked, focusing your eyes on the old teacher “I’m fine I–” 

“You seem to have a lot on your mind…” He added with a courteous nod. You looked at him with eyes opened wide, breath hitching at your throat when you realised what you had done. “And you’ve also had a rough couple of days.” 

You looked at him, a serious look on your face, as you focused on your thoughts, trying to conceal what had happened the rest of that night, and attempting to leave out details like the phase of the moon and when you saw Remus. It didn’t feel like Dumbledore was trying to pry further, but you still had to try. 

“I’ll send a note to Silvanus excusing you from his class. You’ve been doing quite well on it regardless.” 

“You don’t… Will you not ask what happened?” you asked as you turned to him, “Sir,” you added as an afterthought, trying to maintain your politeness. 

Dumbledore cocked his head to the side, “If you wanted me to know, you would have come to me the day it happened and you wouldn’t be trying to conceal it. I trust in your judgement Miss (Y/LN). I’ve heard good things about you from more than one teacher.” 

You swallowed. “Thank you,” you added with a courteous nod. 

“Regardless, I do feel the need to tell you that if it ever happens again you shall come straight to me or to any other teacher to report it.” 

“Of course, sir.” Frankly, you weren’t sure if you really meant that, but you said it regardless. He nodded one last time and allowed you to go. 

The other person that noticed was way further from the two of you, he had also been talking to James when a familiar smell hit him. It was exactly the same way you smelled when you arrived at his door, barging it open with an iron poker in your hand. It was the smell of panic.

Remus turned to you in an instant, looking at the way you were desperately looking around the field until you focused on Sirius. He frowned, and then saw your entire interaction with Dumbledore, paying close attention and using his heightened senses to listen in to your conversation with the professor. 

When you eventually walked back to your friends, you moved to stand in between him and Sirius. Neither James nor the other boy seemed to notice your discomfort, in fact, Remus wasn’t sure he would be able to acknowledge it if he hadn’t recognized the smell from that night. You had a cocky smile on your face and you were pretending to be as unaffected as Sirius and James had been. To anyone, you would look like you were perfectly fine, except for the haunting look in your eyes, perhaps. Remus wondered, if Sirius looked close enough, would he be able to notice too? As he stared at you laughing at some silly joke James had made about the weather, he started feeling the urge to hug you. Of course, he wouldn’t do it, he had no excuse, and you were dating Sirius, not that it was that hard to forget, you were almost always all over each other. 

But he also knew that if he hugged you, you would know he noticed, and then you would think he was pitting you, and you hated to be pitied. But Remus did not pity you, no, he was absolutely stunned by how well you had played your feelings off, hiding them under your skin so skillfully that the only reason he noticed had been because he could still smell them. 

Regardless, Remus Lupin didn’t hug you. He resisted the urge to place his hands around your face like he had done on the shack, or to bring you close to his chest like he had when he cuddled Vixen. He resisted because he knew you weren’t his to hug, but that didn’t stop him from inching closer to you. To stand so close it was almost ridiculous the way your shoulders would rub against his as you laughed, or pretended to laugh, or attempted to do it by drowning the memories with the sound of the other boys’ laughs. He wasn’t sure which of the three it was. 

When the class was over, you told the boys you’d go make sure Lily and Mary were alright, that you would check on Mary at the infirmary with Mars after taking Lily to the room. James tried to offer himself for the job but Remus stopped him. He knew you were looking for a way out and into the comfortable silence of probably the common room or the library or somewhere. 

Even if you were a lot more relaxed now, the smell lingered just a bit, like your emotions were threatening to get out. Remus wanted to go with you, to be there for you like you had been after all the moons since you met him. But he also understood the need for time alone and time to think, and there was something in your eyes that told him that that was exactly what you needed. 

You waved the boys goodbye and walked alongside Marlene and Lily to the room. You both were holding the red-head, arms linked to each other as a way to help her keep balance. 

“It feels like I’ve been on a boat for hours,” Lily complained. 

You gave her a sympathetic look “I think I’ve got something for nausea on my cupboard,” you mentioned “Mom sent it over when she heard I fell off my broom.” 

“But that… you didn’t fall because of nausea,” Marlene said with a frown. 

“Yeah… I didn’t want to tell her I jumped off of it, to get the snitch,” you said with a grimace. Lily was looking between the two of you, trying to focus on the conversation as much as possible. But she was still dizzy. 

Eventually, the three of you made it to the room, both you and Marlene helped Lily to the bed, and then shut the curtains to make her feel more comfortable. You were rummaging through your trunk, trying to find the potion when Marlene said she��d go check on Mary. In the end, you decided to split, Marlene would check on Mary while you stayed with Lily. 

“You’re going to miss class,” Lily complained as you walked towards her with the potion finally in your hands. You gave her a look; as if she hadn’t missed a bunch of classes for you in the past week. She pouted in response “But who’s gonna give me their notes?” 

You smiled as you sat on the bed and placed your hand on the back of her head and gently brought it forwards to make it easier for her to take the potion. “Remus will be in that class, we can get his notes.” 

“With his handwriting?” Lily asked when she finished the potion. 

You gave her a look “It’s not that bad!” 

“When he charms it.” 

“You’re exaggerating,” you told her as you passed a small candy to her, the nausea potion had always been a bit bitter. 

She opened her mouth instead of taking it in her hands and you just placed it on the spot. “Is apparating always going to be this bad?” she asked you as she savoured the candy. 

You shook your head “It gets better,” you promised “I’m sure you’ll be top of the class in no time.” 

She almost snorted at that. “What are you planning to do?” 

You shrugged in response, “Maybe I’ll read ahead,” you said, “or just some fiction.” 

“I miss the telly,” she said with a pout. You smiled at that, while you did not have a television at home, you had encountered one on your walks through Muggle London and had been absolutely fascinated by it, the little screens showing moving pictures just like magical portraits but instead of having a defined person –or people– they had all sorts of stories on them. Including some of the movies you had seen in the cinema before. 

“Want me to read you something?” 

She gave you a look, and then extended her hand and passed a book over to you– a copy of “The Lord of the Rings”. 

“Oh, I love these books!” You said with a smile. 

“It’s my third time reading them actually,” she said “I read them before I came to Hogwarts and I always felt somehow connected to them,” She told you before she yawned. You smiled, realising the potion was already working its magic. 

You flipped through the pages until you found her bookmarker. It was a small blue wildflower, already dry, you took it in your hands and eyed it carefully, Lily looked up at it sadly, “Sev gave it to me a while ago,” she said casually “I can’t bring myself to throw it away.” 

You gave her a look and placed it back on the book, you didn’t exactly like Snape, and you knew why she was sad about it, but you also understood how hard it must have been for her, that her best friend changed so much that he turned against her. He had even called her a slur, a ridiculous word the pureblood assholes had invented, to say when they needed to feel superior. 

Lily saw the way you carefully placed the flower near the back of the book and nodded as you started narrating from where she had left off. Frodo and Sam had just met Legolas when you heard some light snoring from the girl. You smiled and closed the book, taking a bookmarker of your own instead of using the flower again, that way when Lily opened the book, she wouldn’t have to think of Severus, even if the blue flower was still safely tucked in the back.

You gave the girl one last look, tucking in her bed sheets with a swish of your wand before walking back towards your own bed. You stayed there for a few minutes, taking your charms book and skimming through it before setting it on the side and taking an occlumency one instead. Nightshade had given it to you after you asked, and after the ridiculous way in which you had projected all your memories to Professor Dumbledore, you knew you had to continue studying it. 

You looked at Lily one last time and decided a change of setting would be the best, especially since the low-lit space you had created for her comfort wasn’t helping the headache threatening to form as you continued attempting to read the book through squinted eyes. Besides, holding your wand up with Lumos had gotten annoying. 

Exiting the room a few minutes later, you walked straight to the common room and plopped down on the sofa, your head towards the fire so you could properly read the pages. You had been so engrossed in the book, you didn’t hear the portrait open, and you certainly didn’t notice Sirius walking all the way towards you. 

He looked at you as you read the book, moving his hands in the air to try and get your attention a couple of times, but when it proved to be useless, he decided to get your attention in a different way. He leaned closer to you and climbed on top of you, letting his head fall on your stomach as the rest of his body settled over yours. You moved the book to the side and gave him an incredulous look as he snuggled up against you.  

“You’re heavy,” you said as you playfully attempted to push him off. 

“Oh, so you only realise I’m here to try and kick me off?” he teased, looking up at you. “No hey Puppy how was class? Why do you look so tired? No, just ‘You’re heavy.’” 

You giggled at his words, “How was class, Puppy?” 

He hummed unsatisfied in response, easily hearing the sarcasm laced in your words “Awful. Kettleburn had us clean the pens of the Nifflers. They’re adorable until you have to clean things up and smell their stool.” 

“And you’ve come to lay on top of me after that?” You asked as you tried to push him off again, but he just wrapped his arms around your torso tighter. 

“Yes, because you smell nice,” he mumbled as he dug his head on the sweater you were wearing -Remus’ sweater-, “and James used a cleaning spell on me so don’t try to push me off again.” 

“But you’re heavy,” you said with a small pout. 

“Not true, you love it,” he said simply, refusing to move. You rolled your eyes but allowed him to stay. Even if Sirius was actually just slightly heavy, there was a part of you that enjoyed being cuddled by him like this a little too much. And whatever spell James had used was perfect, Sirius smelled like nothing but himself. A smell you already found intoxicating in and of itself. You sighed and took the book again. “Wait, really?” 

“What?” You asked as you moved the book to the side to look at his face. 

“Your gorgeous boyfriend is right on top of you, pretty much begging for a cuddle and you prefer reading… What is that?” he asked as he pulled the book from your hands to read the title “Occlumency?! Really? Is occlumency more interesting than me?” He added as he threw the book back, instead of falling straight on the floor, which you would have definitely reprimanded him for doing, it floated down towards one of the side tables in a gentle motion. 

You stared at the book a little impressed, especially when you turned back to Sirius and realised his wand was tucked in the pocket of his pants. He was surprisingly good at wandless magic, that you knew, but it never failed to impress. 

You turned to him with a small smirk as you leaned your hand towards his head “Sirius if you want my attention you just have to ask for it,” you said as you dug your hand into his hair.

He hummed again, closing his eyes peacefully as he felt your fingers run over his scalp, an action that reminded you a lot of how Padfoot –back when you thought he was Fang- had reacted to you petting him. You wondered if it was a dog thing or a Sirius thing. You saw him take a deep breath as he buried his head deeper into your stomach. 

“I’ll pretend that isn’t weird,” you teased with a smile. 

He turned to you with a reproachful gaze. “It helps the stool smell go away,” he said with a frown. 

You just laughed, also being a canine made you understand the appeal of smells, especially his smell, but you were never as obvious about it, besides, there was nothing as fun as teasing Sirius… Which reminded you of that talk you’d had with Peter after the quidditch game. You reached for the nape of his neck and gently turned his head to look at you, you saw the way his nose brushed on your stomach and how the tip bent just a little as he turned your eyes to yours, “You know… the other day I was talking to Peter–”

Sirius winced “Don’t tell me it’s about one of his ridiculous ideas because–” 

“Hey listen!” you told him as you smacked him lightly, “Peter is smart too.” Sirius only raised his eyebrows “Sometimes,” you added. “He’s good at Herbology and Care for Magical Creatures.” 

“And your point?” 

You rolled your eyes. “He said something and… I’ve been thinking about it for a while,” you had stopped scratching his scalp for a second and he nudged your hand by moving his head for you to get back to it, much like a dog would. You held back a laugh and continued, “he said that when their parents got him a kitten, they had to rub the kitten onto the cat to make him accept him.” 

Sirius frowned, completely lost in the point you were trying to make. “Is this your way of trying to convince me to get a kitten? Because I don’t like them.” 

You laughed. “No, I have enough pets with you lot being my friends.” He looked offended and leaned his head to give a soft, playful bite to your arm. You just smiled, biting your own lip. “Point proven.” 

He scoffed and placed his head on top of the arm he had bitten as he looked at you straight in the eyes, you almost lost your train of thought as you stared at him, always fascinated by the fact that someone so beautiful would be looking at you, with such a gaze. 

“So what’s with the cats then?” He asked, he was looking at you in a way that made your knees weak, and you were happy you were lying on a sofa rather than standing. 

“Well, it’s a smell thing,” you said as you broke eye contact, focusing on your hands on his hair to try and speak properly. “Peter said it’s something about getting the kitten to have the smell of the pack so the larger cat wouldn’t attack him.” Sirius nodded. “He then mentioned that… Moony had honed in my smell. That even on the first moon of the year he had been restless, and had been really hard to deal with.” 

“Yeah, he was a bitch,” Sirius said as he nodded “Kept wanting to go in the castle.” 

“Mhm,” you agreed. “So Peter suggested that we do the same.” 

Sirius arched his eyebrows at you as he passed his tongue over his lips, clearly amused at your suggestion. “Sweetheart, if what you wanted was to rub against me, you could have just said that,” he said with a small smirk and a suggestive look. 

You scoffed and swatted him on the head, “Sirius focus! He said I could rub onto you or James.” 

“No!” he said all too fast, a flash of jealousy in his eyes. 

You giggled, “Well… technically he said Padfoot and Prongs. He offered himself too but said he was too small.” 

“Ugh…Don’t put that image in my head!” He said with a frown. And then turned to you again “What about Remus? Wouldn’t it make more sense for you to rub on him?” 

You nodded, “Yeah, but it doesn’t seem very clever to go rub onto Moony when he could just reach down and close his jaws around me, does it?” 

Sirius frowned, “Not Moony, Remus.” 

“You think that would work? You don’t smell the same as Pads.” 

“Why, been smelling me much?” he teased. 

You rolled your eyes, “Padfoot smells a lot more like a dog.” 

“Are you suggesting I stink?” 

“Your words, not mine.” He pinched your side with his hand and you laughed. Of course, you didn’t think he smelled bad, in fact, Vixen seemed to be just as drawn to that smell as you were by Sirius’. 

“Anyway, Remus smells like Moony.” 

“Been smelling him much?” you teased now. 

He gave you a look, “I live with him you moron.” He omitted the fact that yes, he had, and that Remus had been clouding his thoughts for a while now. 

You sighed, “Well, I suppose we could turn into Vixen and Pads and cuddle him then. You think he’d be up for it?” 

He looked to the side as if thinking about it, “Well… If anyone can convince him, it’s us.”

You nodded in agreement. And then you remembered, “Talking about Remus…” 

“Mhm?” 

You sighed, “I’ve been invited to Slughorn’s Christmas Party.” 

“Congratulations?” he said a little confused, “What’s that got to do with Moons?” 

“He’s never been invited.” He hummed in response as if to get you to elaborate, you continued to brush your nails on his scalp, he could feel your nervousness in the way the patterns you made had gone a little faster. “I want him to go. He… seemed a little harsh when I suggested that he must have been invited many times because of how clever he is.” 

“He won’t like it, he’ll think it’s pity.” 

“No, but… I think he deserves it! More than me even!” 

Sirius shook his head “It’s not just about cleverness, I was invited in my first year, all of my cousins had been members of the Slug Club. Of course, I didn’t go.” 

You sighed, “Yeah, maybe my father being who he is has a lot more to do with my invitation than anything.” 

“That’s not… it’s not what I was trying to say…” 

You sighed again. “I know, Puppy.” You then turned to him, “Would you mind if I invited him?” 

“Instead of me?” He teased. 

“Of course if you don’t want to I would never, I just–” 

Sirius laughed, “I couldn’t care less about the Slug Club, in fact, Walburga might be pleased if I were to go, so I think it’s great if you take Remus instead.” He really tried not to think of how good the two of you would look all dolled up for the party together. 

“You think they know about us?” You asked with a frown. 

“I’d be surprised if they didn’t,” Sirius said and then shrugged, “If anything I bet they’re pissed you’re dating me and not Regulus.” 

You laughed at that, and then remembered the way Walburga had stared at you when she introduced their children, “Imagine if they knew I’m part-fairy.” 

“You what?” Sirius asked, pushing himself from you to look straight at your face. 

“You… I didn’t tell you?” 

“No!” 

“I thought I had,” you said with a guilty-looking smile “It’s from my mum’s side, my great grandma was a fairy, but they decided to keep it secret.” 

“That must be why you’re so pretty,” He said as he leaned back against you “And so good at flying, it’s kind of an unfair advantage when you think about it.” 

You smiled, you knew Sirius wouldn’t judge you for being part fairy, but there was something about the way in which he took it, like it was the most normal thing in the world –rather similar to the way Remus had– that made you want to plant a kiss on those pretty pinky lips of his. 

“How do we convince Remus of the cuddling?” You asked then, your mind going back to the other boy. 

Sirius smirked, “We don’t convince him. We surprise him,” he said as he stood up and extended his hand for you to take, a mischievous look on his face that made him look like the most alluring thing you had ever seen in your life. You almost gaped at him as you grabbed his hand and he pulled you off the bed and dragged you to the stairs of the boys’ dormitories. 

Remus Lupin hadn’t had the best of days. He had attempted to help the boys clean the pens but the animals kept drifting apart from him and trying to escape their little space because of his presence. Eventually, Professor Kettleburn had asked him to step out of them and help him sort out some of the food, dividing it into smaller bags for the younger students to be able to feed them later on. 

Remus was already used to not being able to be close to some creatures, they didn’t exactly like him much, probably because they could smell the wolf in him. Of course, it wasn’t like that all the time, in fact, the fireworms he was still co-parenting with you seemed to have gotten a liking to him, although he wasn’t sure if it was because they couldn’t quite think properly or if the real reason was because a fireworm could be easily as destructive as he was. 

Either way, Remus hated sorting the food, it was a boring, tedious task that he felt brought no new knowledge to him, but that wasn’t even the worst part. No, the worst part was that, because it was such a simple and mundane task it offered no mental challenge, which meant his brain was idle. And of course, since his brain was idle, he couldn’t stop thinking about things he’d rather not think about at all. Let alone in depth.

It had all started as he was serving the second bag, his brain had gone back to the previous class, he’d seen how worried you were. While you hadn’t told Remus and the boys, or anyone the exact details of what had happened that night, you had mentioned Barty apparating in front of the Shack. Remus knew the boy was talented, but he didn’t know that he was that talented. He had no idea how to apparate yet, although after doing it with Dumbledore he thought he could learn how to do it easily enough. 

He had also linked the smell from that night exactly to the way you smelled that day. He’d noticed he’d become a lot better at isolating your smell from the rest of people after the incident. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the lingering smell of bIood that always seemed to be carried alongside you after you had been wounded; because he had been so close to your animagus in the infirmary or because his obsession had just gotten that bad, but it was happening. Quite similar to the way he could easily isolate Sirius’ smell. But smell sometimes changed a little, he remembered easily being able to know when Sirius had snogged someone by the sheer smell he exuded afterwards, it always pissed him off and he had to play it out, especially after he realised it was because he too wanted to snog him. He could also tell when the rest of the boys had done similar things, but that had never bothered him. 

But the fact that Remus had been able to identify the exact smell from that night, meant you were probably reliving what had happened, which had, in turn, put him just as on edge as he had been then. The same worry filled his insides, the same need to protect. It had taken a monumental struggle not to instantly sprint your way when the smell first hit him, and it had been even harder to hold back from hugging you when he could see damn well you could use one. And Sirius was too busy boasting with James to notice, not that you weren’t a brilliant actress, heck you hid it almost as well as he hid his aches and pains after a moon. But there had been few people he couldn’t quite hide it from. Turns out there were also people you couldn’t hide it from: that being Remus. 

Remus attempted to focus on something else, and he looked up to try and find some kind of interesting animal, student drama or something, but instead, what he found was Sirius’ intense gaze. His eyes, which looked more blue than grey that day because of the sun that shone so brightly over them as they cleaned, were focused on Remus. Remus almost scowled, thinking Sirius was looking at him out of pity, but then he noticed that Sirius hadn’t quite realised Remus was looking at him yet. When they locked eyes, Sirius continued to shamelessly stare at Remus, looking to be rather deep in thought as he stared at his friend, as if he were trying to solve a riddle. 

While Sirius didn’t look particularly angry as he stared, Remus was slightly intimidated by him, was there any chance he had noticed the way he had been looking at you? The way he kept staring at him when he wasn’t looking? Sirius wasn’t particularly oblivious to the way people looked at him, to the way girls looked at him.  Was it possible that he was able to link those gazes to the ones Remus often threw his way? 

Regardless of how intimidating “the Black” stare could be, Remus held his stance, staring at Sirius with as much curiosity and moxy as he could muster. Sirius seemed amused by that, biting his lip in the most lascivious manner Remus had ever seen in his life and then sending a wink in Remus’ direction before focusing on cleaning again. 

Remus was glaring at Sirius’ back as the boy turned his head, how dare he wink at me like that? he thought as he mentally scoffed. Needless to say, Remus wasn’t able to get Sirius off his head after that, especially Sirius’ soft-looking lips. Fucking Sirius Black and his fucking pretty lips. He’s an arse who knows how pretty he is and uses it to his advantage. What a prat! Why must he be so fucking pretty?!? 

By the end of the class, Remus’ head was in pain from how many thoughts were going ‘round inside of it, he might as well be a merry-go-round with how much it was swiveling. He had a headache, he was full of dirt and animal food and he was still pissed at Sirius who had looked at him the way he did. 

James had gone chasing behind Lily with the excuse that he had to go check on her and Sirius had approached Remus right after. Peter was lost somewhere, but Remus couldn’t care less at that point. He was still pissed at Sirius, for absolutely no reason at all. 

“You alright?” Sirius asked with a frown, and fuck did he look adorable.

“I’ve got a bit of a headache,” Remus said sharply, “I think I’ll go to the library.” 

“You have a headache and will go to the library?” Sirius asked puzzled, “Doesn’t seem very clever, why don’t you come with? I’m going to try and find Kit, I’m surprised she didn’t come back to class after taking Lily to the dormitories.” 

Remus scoffed, and coughed a bit to cover it up when he realised you wouldn’t want Sirius to know you had been affected because of that night, “Wouldn’t want to third wheel on quality time with your girlfriend.” 

Sirius threw him a wary glance as if he had noticed something was wrong with his friend, “You’re never a third wheel Remus, we love having you around.” 

Remus bit the side of his cheek to hold himself from snapping at Sirius, he had no logical reason to do it, any normal person would be more than happy to spend time with his best friends all together, but Moony was a jealous beast and sometimes it sipped all the way into Remus, “I have to prepare my potions essay.” 

There was no potions essay, he had finished it a few nights ago when you had polyjuiced yourself into James to take his punishment for him, not that Sirius knew. 

“And you should cuddle her more,” Remus said almost bitterly. When Sirius gave him a quizzical look he tried to calm his nerves again. “I think It still hurts,” he said “I saw her clutching her arm earlier.” 

Sirius nodded and Remus stared at him as they parted ways, grumbling something about Sirius being unbelievable as he walked to the library. There he tried to find a quiet spot, but after finding none, because all students seemed to be more focused on gossip than on books, he decided to retire to the Prefects’ Bathroom, to try and relax. Unfortunately, when he went he walked in on none other than Alice Becket making out with a Ravenclaw boy from 7th. She seemed surprised when she saw Remus but he just shut the door. 

Remus didn’t care much about Alice snogging other boys, he had used her as much as she was using him, and he knew they weren’t exactly exclusive, but he had already been pretty riled up at the moment, and that was like the last nail in the coffin. Thankfully Alice didn’t follow behind him as he stormed through the hall towards his Common Room. He hoped to the heavens that he wouldn’t find you and Sirius snogging on the couch because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to maintain his sanity if he did.  

Thankfully, as he walked in, he realised it was mostly empty. There were a few first and second-year kids talking, and reading, while most of the older kids had probably gone to the Hogsmeade outing after class. He walked up to his room and opened the door warily as he looked around. He frowned as he took in the smell of the room. It looked empty, but there was a lingering scent of you and Sirius all over the place. The thought that you had both shagged there earlier made him even more uncomfortable as he let himself fall head first on the bed and groaned into his pillow. 

For some fucking reason that also had the smell of you and Sirius. Which, while initially pissed him off, the more he let the smell penetrate him, the more relaxed he started to feel. He was about to let his mind roam with thoughts that he normally didn’t allow himself to have, with all the stress of the day he figured he deserved a break. He took a deep breath and remembered how you and Sirius had sounded back when you were kissing the day you made the potions for the prank. Remus was just starting to get in the mood when he felt his bed dip on the side. He turned around horrified, just to find Padfoot jumping like a happy puppy. 

“What in the bIoody–” He started and then felt the bed dip on the other side. A small red fox had also jumped into his bed. She was wagging her tail as excitedly and happily as Padfoot “Vixen?” he asked, confused. He could have sworn he saw the fox smile. 

The fox and the dog threw a look at each other before the fox climbed on top of Remus’ chest. The dog leaned in closer and rested his head on the fox’s back. Remus looked horrified at the two of them, horrified because he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt more comfortable –perhaps when he was reading and you were all mushed together on his bed– and horrified because he had no idea what the hell the two of you were planning. 

He wasn’t even sure what to say, or if he should say anything, but it pissed him off not knowing what the hell the two of you were up to so he put on the angriest face he could muster “If you two pair of twats don’t get off me in the next five seconds, I will hex you!”

Padfoot stared at him and leaned his head on your back again, only tilting it to the side when Remus started to count down. Sirius had been stared at with that angry, threatening face hundreds of times throughout his life. He’d do something silly near the moon, and Remus would put on that same face and scowl at him, he’d get caught after a prank and Remus would give him the scowl, he’d snog a random girl and leave her and Remus would also get pissed, at this point, Sirius was almost immune to it. You, on the other hand, had only seen Remus angry at the Shack, and while it wasn’t exactly the same face he was making, it did make you recoil, even if it was just a little. 

“Three… Two…” he kept counting, Remus was staring directly at you, and you wriggled out of the sandwich Remus and Padfoot had you on until you fell on the bed. You rolled over your back until you were staring at Remus, weight on your front paws as if you were ready to jump and attack, but there was something playful about it, as if you were challenging Remus. Padfoot on the other hand had just laid his head on Remus’ chest again, looking as unbothered with Remus as Sirius often was. 

Remus attempted to push him off of him but Padfoot didn’t budge. Of course, Remus wasn’t using his full strength and Sirius knew that too, which gave him more confidence to stay right where he was. Besides, Remus was warm and comfortable and he smelled awfully nice that day. 

“Sirius, get off! BIoody hell why are you both attacking me like this?!?” Padfoot barked softly and you leaned closer again, but Remus gave you a warning glance “Either one of you explains to me what the fuck is going on or–” Padfoot leaned forward and licked Remus’ cheek, an action awfully reminiscent of the Halloween party. Remus pushed him off his face “That’s fucking gross!”

Regardless, the dog didn’t seem to care and licked Remus’ hands as he attempted to push him off.  You watched the entire scene diverted when the werewolf turned to you, a pleading look on his face. “Little Witch, please tell me what the fuck is going on.”

You felt genuinely tempted to ignore him and just lick his face like Sirius had done, but there was something about Remus’ pleading expression that made you want to do whatever he wanted. You turned back into yourself, not quite measuring your stance and ended up laying beside Remus, almost like that time you were reading “The Godfather” except this time around your head was leaning on his arm. But rather than stepping away, like Remus expected you to do, you just got yourself comfortable, which was a very Sirius thing to do. Padfoot had laid his paws on Remus’ torso and licked your face once too, which had you laughing merrily as you lay in Remus’ arms. 

Remus was rather tense, feeling like he might be third-wheeling but also awfully welcomed in between the two of you. “Little witch?” he asked again, an edge of panic in his voice as Padfoot continued trying to lick his face and yours. 

“Peter told us we had to cuddle you.” 

“What?!” Remus asked as he frowned, now more confused than he’d been before. 

Sirius transformed back into himself, he was sitting on the bed, leaning slightly onto Remus as his hands were pressed on the other boy’s abdomen like they had done when they were paws. “Well technically, he said Vixen had to cuddle Padfoot and Prongs.” 

“You’re not making anything clear,” Remus said as he motioned to stand but both you and Sirius held him down. You by placing your hands on his arm and Sirius by leaning onto him just a little more. 

“It’s because of the smell,” you explained. “He said Moony had honed on my smell and that he kept chasing after me since the first moon.”

Yeah, Moony isn’t the only one who honed onto your smell, Remus thought. 

“And he said if we rub our smell on her and she smells like the pack then Moony wouldn’t chase her anymore.” 

Remus looked at you horrified, “You wouldn’t be thinking of setting a foot out on the next full moon, would you?” 

“Well of course I will,” you said simply. “We can’t have Moony continue being all reckless chasing after me or whatever, he’s hurting himself, and you in the process.” 

“We can’t have him hurt you either,” Remus said sharply. 

“And that, my dear friend, is why we are going to cuddle you,” Sirius said with an air of finality. 

“I… I don’t know about–” 

“We have to try, Rem!” You said lifting yourself and turning to him, a little more serious now.  You sighed. “I don’t want you to keep hurting yourself because of me. And if what I need to do to fix it is cuddle the shit out of you and Padfoot then, I’ll take one for the team.” 

Sirius barked a laugh after that and shoved you lightly on the side “Oh shut up, Vixen loves cuddles!” 

“Not from dirty smelly dogs,” you teased. 

Sirius straight up gasped at that, looking rather amused. “Oh, you little minx!” He said as he turned into Padfoot again and jumped over you, licking your face mercilessly. He kept barking in between licks. And both you and Remus knew exactly what he was saying even if neither of you spoke dog. 

“Take that back, Take that back!” Padfoot said with each bark. 

After laughing so much your stomach started to hurt, you complied. “All right, alright! You’re not a dirty smelly dog, Pads!” 

The dog barked satisfied, cooing his head in a smug manner that would have allowed anybody to figure out that he was Sirius and not a normal dog. You had reached up and started rubbing the back of his ears, gently scratching. Remus, without thinking much about it, joined you, your fingers brushing against each other as you both petted Padfoot. 

“That’s right, he’s a good boy, isn’t he?” Remus teased. Sirius was about to protest, but the boy scratched the dog in a way he knew would shut him up; and rather than complain, he started wagging his tail behind him as he leaned onto Remus’ touch. 

“By Merlin! You have to teach me that!” You said with a surprised expression as you watched the way Padfoot leaned onto Remus, who had somewhat of a smug smile on his face. “You think it would shut Sirius up too?” The dog barked your way and was about to jump over you again when Remus scratched the same way again and he instantly melted back onto the other boy. You giggled at that. “You’re brilliant, Rem!”

Remus almost beamed at that, while the stress of the day wasn’t getting relieved the salacious way he thought it would, cuddling his two crushes, even if they would be in their animal form, might as well be a lot better. As long as he didn’t think much of it. Besides it had been your idea –technically Peter’s– which meant you actually wanted to cuddle him. 

And while earlier, at least at the Halloween Party he had shone away from your touch, after he felt the way Sirius’ hands and yours brushed over his body, it felt a lot less intimate to cuddle Padfoot and Vixen, even if it was just as nice, and even if you still hadn’t turned to Vixen. You were too entertained petting Padfoot and the dog seemed rather content, even as his girlfriend was cosied up against his best friend. Head on his shoulder and shoulder –the not wounded one– against his torso. 

He knew Sirius to be jealous, he had been jealous of Tom several times, but he seemed to be feeling nothing of the sorts as you cuddled up against Rem. And boy were you a lot closer to him than you’d ever been to Tom, which he was really trying not to think much about. 

Remus stared at the both of you, the dog and the girl, all comfortable, and all over him as he wondered if Sirius just didn’t consider him a rival at all. He had never seemed jealous of how close you and he were. How many projects and classes you had together, how much time you spent with each other. Remus, like he often did, started to overthink it. Was he that bad-looking that Sirius wouldn’t even consider the possibility of him stealing his girl? Was it that impossible to believe you could like him back? 

No, you had called him pretty several times, you had mentioned he was hot too, Sirius had mentioned the same thing. If he didn’t know any better he’d think it had been flirting. But neither of you would flirt, you were too bIoody in love with each other to ever even consider another person. But Sirius was definitely a jealous man. Jealous except when… it comes to me. 

You looked up at Rem when you realised he had stopped petting Pads, you only noticed because the dog kept bumping his head on the way to his hand as if asking to continue what he’d been doing, when you saw the frown on his pretty face, his brows knitting together as he was in deep thought, you spoke “What’s got your knickers in a twist? Is cuddling us that uncomfortable?” 

“What?!” Remus asked as you brought him back, trying not to look at your lips as you laid so close to him, “No, no! I was thinking of– hold up! Aren’t I supposed to be cuddling Padfoot and Vixen?”

“You are,” you said with a shrug.

“I’m cuddling Padfoot and my little witch,” he said amused. 

Not one person in the room questioned the way Remus had said “my” prior to Little Witch. In fact, not the dog, not the girl, not even the small portrait in the back –that was known to be rather outspoken– even questioned the wording of the sentence, as if you all knew, on a subconscious level, that it was true. 

You gasped, not realising you had completely forgotten to turn back, too entertained on petting the dog to think about it “You’re bIoody right!” you said as you leaned forwards brusquely,  Remus really tried not to feel bad about the cold breeze that instantly hit him after your bodies separated from each other. “Must have been really tired, I was about to fall asleep.” 

And you really had been, not that you knew why you were so sleepy. It seemed the cosiness both boys brought over soothed you to sleep. 

Padfoot barked your way, you didn’t have to be a dog expert to know he was making fun of you. He poked his head on Remus’ hand again, as if to prompt him to continue his ministrations, and you looked at him, a spark of jealousy lighting inside you, not because you didn’t like Remus petting your boyfriend, but because you wanted in on the petting too. In an instant, you turned to Vixen, shrinking to the middle of the bed and walking your way toward Remus’ chest, and pushing Padfoot’s head just slightly to the side, as if you owned the place. 

The dog nibbled your ear in protest but ended up letting you do whatever the hell you wanted, placing his head on top of your back once you looked like you had gotten yourself comfortable. He made sure to brush his snout all over your smaller body. Partly because he wanted to make sure he was rubbing you with the scent of the pack, but mostly because he wanted to see if he’d get a reaction out of you. You only leaned closer to Remus, closing your eyes as you got yourself even more comfortable. The boy, the only human left in the room, smiled and placed a hand over your small head. 

Padfoot looked like he was about to protest over the loss of contact, Remus without even opening his eyes mumbled “It’s Vixen the one that needs the smell of the pack, not you Pads.” 

The dog huffed in response, he too wanted to be pet by Remus, but he also knew Remus was right, so he just nuzzled his head closer to Vixen’s body as you nuzzled your own against Remus’ hand. Remus was enjoying the way the two of you warmed him more than almost anything he’d ever enjoyed in his life. Perhaps only rivalled with that one kiss he had given you and the one he had shared with Sirius years past. 

And while the nagging little voice in his head screamed at him to run, to leave before he knew what heartbreak really was after being able to be so close and yet not being able to have either of you, he decided to ignore it. 

Remus would wallow in the feeling of the two of you nuzzling against him, even if it was just this once. 

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

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A/N: Well, well, well, but look who's all about the cuddling? Also GUYS! Upon some requests, we have a DISCORD server now and you can all join in and chat about marauders and/or GC with other lovely people. If you wanna discuss a new oneshot or even the new chapters of GC this is your place to go. The announcement for it is here and I'll leave links to it on a reblog of this post ad in the comments.

Read more Marauders Fiction

[hellodragonkit]

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice Opinions and Points.

SPOILERS... obviously.

Ok I watched the movie, and ... some things that are my own personal thoughts and possible points I noticed. And some things I have seen others point out to where this is just my over all opinion and its kinda long.

The backstory lets not forget beetle is a unreliable narrator as proven by the first movie as Julliard and Harvard did not exist while he was alive, and unless he was possessing someone when they graduated its unlikely he said the truth. - so I don't think he gave us the full backstory. Maybe yes he did marry her, but given he never dies on screen and previously stated point. I just find it hard to believe that he drank a poison then had enough strength to chop her up as much as she was, if it was actually effecting him. i find it far more possible he had already been poisoned so often he was immune at that point. and was just pissed his new wife tried to do him in. Also in first movie it was suggested with the red mark he hung himself... maybe he tried to take over the death cult and had to do himself in for a quicker death?

the Newspapper. Yes it did say people were falsely accused of offing themselves at death, I think this was to help clear up the plot hole that would have been with Astrid's dad. And maybe be a red haring for Beetle. Next few points are BeetleBabes related so if you don't like the ship, please move on.

He gave her autonomy in his power. During the therapist scene when he "sewn" her mouth shut, it was less truly sewn and more duct taped. She had the ability to remove it, yeah he had it stick long enough for a gag, but not much more. He didn't force her.

The Contract and Nullification of it. Beetle wrote the contract, and he worked as a dead con man for years, he knew the handbook inside and out. He wrote up the contract for Lydia to sign and save her daughter, knowing there was a Massive Loop hole. even blowing a hole in the "back door" of the Neither to insure the loop hole was as big as it could be the second he had her sign, obviously with a bit of theatrics for both signing and explosions. But would we expect anything else from him?

Delia calling him: when Delia died, she called him asking to go to Lyd's wedding. He did so no questions no strings. Any other deal he always asked for something in return but for Lyd's step mom he didn't charge a dime, possibly because he felt Lyds would be upset if she missed it, and didn't get to say good bye.

Rory Beetle obviously didn't like him, could tell he was scamming Lyds, and yeah he probably could have sent him off but instead had to prove to Lydia why that guy was bad, hence why he used truth serum. He need to make sure she wouldn't go back to that guy once he was gone again. It was even hinted he heard her talking in the graveyard rushing to the church that she was not ready to marry.

He planed to go away. His song at the end, was not one of love and togetherness. MacArthur Park is more of loss and remorse. He was saying Goodbye to Lydia! Not permanently anyway

He set up sending away Deloris and helped the contract become Null When Deloris burst in through the door, the wind didn't effect Lydia, or Beetle, or Delia but the book slid to Astrid as easily as it had moved away, He moved it to her, conveniently on the page to summon sand-worms and how to brake the contract.

He stalled for the cops I find it funny how in the first movie he summoned a Man of the cloth and the guests. But this time he had both, and unlike the first time he wasn't rushing... he took his time to sing a whole song and to let the Neither cops show up, possibly also baiting Deloris to take care of her but I'm still not sure on that bit. ether way He had won, he had Lydia, the pastor, and guests. But instead he did a song and dance, a song that I already pointed out was one more of goodbye.

He let Lydia send him away. Beetle loves to make a entrance, he also may love to make a exit. he has also shown he can silence someone for just saying his name once. But instead of silencing her or taking over her voice as he had before. He started a dramatic plea, showing her he was getting sent away, showing her he was going to let her send him off.

The ending given the fact he may have over heard about Rory, And all the other notes, he could probably see Lydia wasn't wanting marriage at that time. But I also feel... he just likes the chase. What fun would it be if the Coyote already caught the road runner? he didn't mind her sending him away, because it means he could keep trying to get her to call him willingly. Over all this is just my ramblings that I don't have any friends irl who may appreciate them or be able to properly counter lol And if you made it this far thank you. And I hope you liked the movie as much as I did.

[fasolabean]

warninggg this is a long one ,,,

(Okay so I started writing this uhhh vent before more posts on the n//fts appeared later so plz keep that in mind hah)

So I haven’t been too active on here for the past month – a bit personal start, but I’ve moved to a different country whooo!!!! (its terrifying) (my brains been involved in fandom stuff as usual but physically I wasn’t lmao).

But I wanted to talk ab the n//ft (censoring bc idk ab bots here) thing bc while some people on here provided some great context and threads, most of the talk has happened on twitter. So like. Since it was first confirmed what the raffle thing was I was veryyyy disappointed, especially bc K has made fun of this very thing on stage previously. And like yea, the nature of what hes doing is different than the n//ft crypt0 scams, since the cost of the paywalled content is set and not fluid and the raffle thing was free to enter, and I know there have been threads about the website not being the worst on twitter (link) (edit: now here on tumblr too). But still man. Both of these could’ve been done on either an independent website or through stuff like youtube members or patreon. Or hell, even just on the merch store? Like buy a promo code that buys you access to the material?

Also like I get that this was probably a contract that would be rly hard if not impossible to terminate. STILL though, I wish we just got an even short thing like “hi sorry I wasn’t aware this is gonna be a one time thing we’re not doing it again”. I don’t mind extra content being paywalled personally, I know some people do, but I just really wish it wasn’t don’t with that technology. And yes, I also now know it’s a safer way to handle shit like that but I just cant see this excuse being used for commercial use? Like maybe I can see why I could be made to use it for like idk an important document, but a raffle ticket? Nah

I also, ugh. Felt weird about mikke in the team since the winter. This whole thing seems to be – at least to a large extent – either done or influenced by him, judging by even the fact that the europass thingy webpage has oy photomikke marked (no im not buying it but i did look around curiosity was stronger). Also the previous thing that had made me go hmmm about käärijä as a brand was the bnb, which now seems to be ran entirely by mikke and his wife. Like stick to your photos man? That being said tho, Jere IS an adult and he IS the face of this brand. If he doesn’t think hes qualified to make business decisions all by himself (which I get, this shit is hard), nothing is stopping him really from getting a professional to help him with those things. And if there IS something stopping him then hey man I think you should go to the press with that lol. From any interviews ive seen or read, you can feel he feels this responsibility to keep his friends and family that initially helped him afloat. But I wish he understood that not letting people who in the end are not professional about business and PR and having them stick to their own thing does not have to mean cutting them off.

But now I just wanna share a thought that to some might seem like me defending him – which, in case you didn’t get I am very much not lmao. The thing is, im really glad the fandom is able to call him out on a shitty thing – like a bad baaad business decision. You can like somebody’s art, hell you can even like the public person they are, while not agreeing with everything what they do. What annoys me though, is that apart of the kä fandom, he is also often talked about (usually negatively) in the wider esc fandom. Over the past week I’ve seen multiple threads on twitter from people that rarely ever mention him about this. That would’ve been like, not that much of a deal (though sometimes it really got… engagement bait-y) but the amount of bodyshaming and shaming of his fans that comes up with every valid criticism is making me wanna pull my hair out.

Especially cause he’s neither the first finnish esc-related artist to do that (Robin and Cyan Kicks are mentioned on the kollekt website) nor is he the first esc artist of his influence to do it either. Last year Loreen and Alessandra have released n//fts last year, and Loreen did a very similar raffle a couple months ago. Now I wanna be very clear: I don’t want this to be like. Cancelling these people, that would be so hypocritical of me. I also don’t want this to be like a fandom war like oh youre mad he did xyz?? Well THIS and THIS person did THAT!!1! I’m just merely annoyed that these people doing essentially the same thing went with no echo at all, but now I’ve seen us (the fandom) be literally called the r slur and the most vile things being said about jere and, for some reason, his appearance???

Idk man. I really try to  make it clear im not trying to excuse his decisions and I think being angry and/or disappointed at him is absolutely understandable. Im just angry that every single time he fucks up, every single time he makes a mistake, my timeline is filled with a wave of people rejoicing in it. I know he’s a controversial figure, he’s been one since day one, but I just wish he’s gotten the same amount of shit his peers do for the same actions? And this happens every time, and each time im like “well ig I can see why hes so bad when it comes to criticism”. Because imagine doing a thing that your peers have done with no/minimal criticism and then the moment you try it out you get people calling your fans slurs and commenting how stupid you are. Like ngl id also think any criticism was hate lmao.

Again I wanna be very VERY clear im very critical ab what he chose to do. I wish he took some responsibility – and hope he maybe does, at some point in the future. This year has been a whole lot of bad business decisions for the käärijä brand in my eyes, and I hope he can actually see where its gone wrong and do something about it, both for his and our sake. I am also happy to see fellow fans who are able to call out their fave. But man I am TIRED of him just getting all the shit (from people who very visibly fans are not)?? And now I have the proof that it is comparably more than other people and not just my bias towards him because wdym there’s been at least 4 esc artists, 2 of which more famous than him, and 2 umk artists doing exactly the same thing with almost no echo??

TLDR (thishasover1kwordsfuckshit); I wish he did better, simply. I kinda cling to some hope that maybe hey finally this time he will see that criticism can be constructive. I think this is still a level of fucking up that you can like, come back from. Pity it’s connected to the eurotour since kinda souring my excitement ab my first concert in a new country a bit :(

[hush-writes-preg]

I watch the harbor every night from my bedroom window. A better partner would be familiar with the look of his boyfriend’s ship by now, but I’m more of a fucktoy than a partner. It’s no surprise that after years of playful sex- often over alcohol- my belly started to swell. The only problem is that my boyfriend is rarely around. His captain only brings the crew to my town once every couple months. At least, that’s how it’s supposed to be.

I haven’t seen him since he knocked me up.

Maybe that’s intentional. Maybe he knew he slipped, and he chose not to come back, afraid of facing his perceived mistake. Perhaps he figured I wouldn’t find him if he did come back, since I can’t even recognize his ship.

Or maybe he hasn’t been able to come back. I worry endlessly that something happened to him, or to his captain, and he may never show up in town again. My hope is that he will.

But I don’t have time to wait around for him anymore. I don’t have time to stare at the harbor from a distant hill and wonder if any figure in the crowd is him. His baby is coming now.

Wordcount: 911

Themes: Birth, unassisted birth

You can see the lights from the town below as you watch the docks in vain. You hear the faint sounds of a bustling city at night and the wind whipping across the water to rattle the windows of your tiny apartment. The old tenement isn't much, but it is cheap, and at least your linens are clean. 

And nobody pays any mind to the young person with their illegitimate pregnancy here. 

Another cramp ripples through your belly, large, tight, and round beneath your tunic. You groan and clutch at the windowsill as you try to breathe through the pain. Your legs feel weak, and your water is dripping down the insides of your thighs, already bare since you had the forethought to lose your trousers early on.

"Gods," you sigh, and try to walk yourself to the bed.

Your contractions are getting closer together. They're stronger, too, and each one leaves you gasping for breath. It won't be long now.

You've almost reached the foot of your bed when another one hits. It's so sudden and so intense that your knees give out, sending you crumpling to the floor. You land on all fours, barely preventing your belly from being crushed under your weight.

Your head feels light. You pant heavily and try to focus on something other than the pain. You smell the salty breeze and hear the waves crashing in the distance. The floorboards beneath your knees are old and rough. Candlelight flickers wildly over the paneled walls, casting deep, dark shadows in the corners of the room.

When the next contraction comes, you cry out. You can't hold it back. You're too overwhelmed. It feels like your whole body is contracting, like there's an iron fist squeezing around your abdomen.

"Gods, gods," you chant, "please, please..."

You have no idea what you're asking for. You want to be strong enough to bear it, you suppose. You want your labor to end.

You can't get back up. All you can do is brace yourself against the bed and wait for the next contraction. You try to count the minutes between them, but your head is getting foggier and you're having trouble remembering the number you've counted up to.

The next wave is worse than the others. It rips a scream from you, and another gush of fluid spills from between your legs. It makes a puddle beneath you and runs down the backs of your legs.

"Oh," you groan, "oh hells..."

You can feel the baby now. You can feel it moving lower in your body, the pressure in your pelvis building.

"Gods," you whimper. You can't think. All you can do is feel the sensations of the baby making its way down, your body forcing it from the only home it's ever known since the night your lover planted it within you.

"It's coming," you whimper to the empty room, "it's coming now."

Where was your lover? Why did you have to endure this alone?

You reach between your legs and feel the opening where the head has begun to spread you open, stretching you wider than you've ever been stretched before. 

"Ow, ow, ow," you moan, "please...!"

You don't know who you're begging. The gods? Your lover? The baby? 

"Please," you beg, "please, let me have it..."

The head moves further down, aching and burning as your body strains to let it pass. It's almost too much to bear, but you keep breathing through it even after the contraction is over. 

Another gush of fluid runs down your legs. You reach behind you, between your thighs, and feel the baby's hair.

"It's coming," you sob, "it's coming, it's coming, oh, gods..."

You're shaking and sweating. Your belly trembles, still pressed against the floor.

"It's coming," you wail.

There's no way your neighbors don't hear you right now, but your labor isn't their concern. You're on your own.

The baby's head is crowning. The skin around your entrance pulls tight as the baby stretches you further, until you feel as though you're going to split in two. You push, and you can feel the head beginning to emerge.

You're almost there. It's stretching you so wide. You can't believe it's going to fit.

"Come on, come on, come on," you chant, like a desperate spell. It's got to keep going. It just has to. 

The baby's head slides free. It rests in the space between your legs, and the shoulders begin to follow.

"Almost there," you whimper, spreading your knees wider in an attempt to open your pelvis, "almost there..."

You grit your teeth and bear down as hard as you can.

The shoulders pop free. The rest of the baby slides out with a wet squelch, and you reach back just in time to catch it as it tumbles free of your body.

"Oh, gods," you breathe, tears welling in your eyes.

It's a boy. He's bloody and slimy, but he's alive, and he's crying. 

You did it.

"It's okay," you soothe him, "you're okay."

You hold him close, cradling him against your chest as you finally turn and slump against the floor. His heartbeat is fast and strong.

"It's okay," you promise him, "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

The baby's cries subside. His tiny fingers curl into fists.

"You're perfect," you tell him, "you're so beautiful."

Your son.

Your little boy.

He looks just like his missing father, and you can't help but weep.

Tip Jar ✨ My Pregnancy Writing ✨ Commissions

[blues824]

im surprised this hasn't been requested yet,, but could you please do malleus, jade, floyd, silver and trey with a reader who is like alice kingsleigh? im talking about the live-action alice, not the animated one (im unsure if they act the same, its been a while since i watched the animated one).

The LA and the animated versions are quite different. Gender-neutral reader.

Trey Clover

You were as brave as you were adventurous, and he appreciated that about you. However, your sense of adventure often ended up with you in trouble with Riddle, and this baker had to bail you out with a Get-Out-of-Jail-Free card (a strawberry tart) more times than he can count. You loved standing up for what you believed was right, and you didn’t think the Queen’s rules were just at all.

Trey loved hearing about your own world. The different cultures and how you were seen as crazy always amused him. However, whenever you got to the parts where you were either going to have a spouse chosen for you or you were going to be thrown into a mental asylum because you had the ability to travel through mirrors and get from Twisted Wonderland back to your world… or so you claimed, according to your world, he was in disbelief. Your land seemed even more twisted than anything Twisted Wonderland has to offer.

All that aside, you do have to admit that the treats your beloved baker makes are better than the Eat Me! pastry that you had consumed however many months ago. It did increase your size by a very significant amount… you almost destroyed Heartslabyul. However, you just drank the Drink Me! potion and you shrank down to the size of a pencil. Trey took it upon himself to make sure that you weren’t squashed, and you sat on his shoulder.

The Vice Housewarden knows of your distaste for the patriarchy, but this man was written by a woman (literally and figuratively). When he threaded his fingers through yours and brought the back of your hand to his lips for a gentle kiss, you could tell that it was genuine love that he felt for you. He had no intention to ‘tame’ you. No, he wanted to be the person you returned home to, and you were grateful for that.

Jade Leech

He was intrigued by you, to say the least. You marched so bravely into Azul’s office that day and you demanded that your friends be freed of their contract. Considering you were a sea captain and knew much more about shady deals with pirates than Azul knows about making shady deals, you were able to find loopholes within the loopholes created. You took your time and read through the fine print and pointed out errors, and seeing the cecaelia so riled up in anger made the eel’s heart beat quickly.

That is how you both became friends, actually, and romantic partners. Your sense of adventure aligned with his, and you both swam and hiked with each other. You lived an active lifestyle, something that doesn’t quite fit within the societal standards of your world, so keeping up with Jade was no challenge for you. Every single time you make it up a mountain, you always ask about the different mushrooms and their properties, and this eel is more than happy to tell you.

Your Unique Magic was definitely strange, as you had the ability to travel between entire worlds. For any holiday break, you were able to go back home. However, you rushed back into Twisted Wonderland in what seemed to be a tattered straitjacket. Your eyes were a bit sunken in, and you seemed a bit woozy. That’s when you told him, with slurred speech, that you had been sent to a mental asylum and injected with a bit of medicine to make you go to sleep before you pulled the syringe out and stabbed it into the doctor.

Jade took you to his room where he helped you take off the straitjacket, offering you one of his own shirts and hoodies. Then, he tucked you into bed so that you could sleep off the medicine’s effects. Oh, he definitely wanted the doctor who did this to you to pay, but for some reason, he was not able to go to your world like you were able to. But your tired ramblings of forced marriage and societal standards made him want to find a way so he could make those humans pay for touching his beloved.

Floyd Leech

He, too, was intrigued by you when you marched into Azul’s office and demanded to read your friends’ contracts. He did get bored when you sat down and read the fine print, but when you pointed out a loophole that managed to get your friends out, Floyd was genuinely surprised. No one has ever managed to do that before, which made his hyperfixation on you even more apparent and present.

But, that ‘hyperfixation’ wasn’t a ‘hyperfixation’... it was a crush. Your adventurous personality both aligned with and contradicted his. You never made him bored. You liked playing basketball with him so that he could get extra practice. You loved sneaking him away during his 15 minute break at the Mostro Lounge just so that you could hang out with him a bit more. Also, when he was in a bad mood, you were not afraid of being squeezed because you faced an entire jabberwocky before. A grumpy eel was nothing to you.

During that break where you were originally going to go home, he did not want you to leave. Well, just a few days into the break, you jumped back through the mirror in a straitjacket and you were stumbling about. You ran as fast as you could to Octavinelle and into the [closed] Lounge. Floyd rushed to see what was wrong, and you went on and on about how you were thrown into a mental asylum and injected with medicine that would put you to sleep. He picked you up and over his shoulder and took you to his room where you slept off the medicine’s effects. He cuddled close to you, and you would never know how angry he was.

Even though it doesn’t seem like he pays attention, he knows that nothing matters to you more than continuing your father’s legacy as a sea captain. However, he never wanted you to go back to your world if it would kill you. After all, he can’t function without his shrimpy. Anyways, you could be a sea captain in Twisted Wonderland, and he would even go with you. He could swim as much as he wanted, he could sail as much as he wanted, and he would get to be with you.

Malleus Draconia

He knew you were different based on the way you walked up to him and just introduced yourself. You held no fear of him, but you didn’t know who he was. When he told you to call him what you will, this intrigued you even more. You both found yourselves excited to meet up each night, as you got to know more about this mysterious new friend that you had made yourself acquainted with.

When you inevitably discovered who he truly was, you understood where he was coming from. Nothing really changed, but you often teased him about keeping more secrets from you. Eventually, a flower of romantic interest bloomed between the two of you, and every single time he brought you back to Ramshackle, he would wish you farewell by placing a polite and loving kiss on the back of your hand. When he looks back up at you, you can feel your heart flutter a bit because of the amount of love he looks at you with.

Malleus had no intention of ‘taming’ you either. If you were to rule beside him, you would do wonderfully as-is. Your world did not share the same view, and one night you had told him about your winter break when he came back. You were taken in by Octavinelle when you ran back through the mirror from your world in a straitjacket and you had some medicine injected into you at that point. The dragon prince was absolutely angry, and a storm was starting to form as you went on and on about the happenings.

If you think you are ever going back to your world, you are sadly mistaken. He is not letting you go back just so you can be tossed back into an insane asylum. He knows about your desire to carry out your father’s legacy, but you can do that here. Actually, he still hates the idea of you being away from him, but it will do because at least you would be in Twisted Wonderland. Plus, there is no chance that you are going to fall for someone else, so he has nothing to worry about.

Silver

He reminded you of the dormouse that you had met. He always fell asleep, which was unfortunate when one was as adventurous as you were. But you were not going to let him lie in the middle of the hallway just to be trampled. It was with a tad bit of difficulty that you pulled him onto a chair and off of the floor. However, he miraculously woke up because of all the extra movement, just to see you really close to his face. To say he was startled [and flustered] would be an understatement.

This was a start to a rather interesting relationship. Since he was a knight, you compared him to the card knights in Underland, but found there to be no comparison at all. After all, he was not rushing to paint the roses red. He was very serious compared to your first year friends (excusing Jack and Sebek), but that was what you liked about him. He, too, was the constant in your life, even if you had only known him for a short period of time.

Silver appreciates peace, but he appreciates you even more. So, when he comes back from Briar Valley, and he hears whispers about you being thrown into a mental asylum back home, he is running around trying to find you. He found you at Ramshackle, staring at a straitjacket with a look of absolute betrayal on your face. That was when he realized that all the whispers were correct. He pulled you into his arms, grateful that you were okay. 

From that point on, he kind of treats you differently. He doesn’t want you going back to your world if that is how they are going to treat you. No, he will keep you safe because he doesn’t want you to get hurt. He supports your dream of being a sea captain, and he will help you learn the different lands from a multitude of different maps so that you could be confident in the geography of Twisted Wonderland.

[chutkiandchotte]

I've been kind of in a IPK hateration mood lately (so if you're not in the mood for that look away lol) and its irritating that a lot of people find Khushi really annoying (which admittedly - she can be extremely trying, its kind of a core characteristic) for the same things they find extremely attractive and/or forgivable in Arnav. Such as arrogance, stubborness, narrow minded-ness, etc etc.

Personally to me, rewatching this show as a well grown adult (for the millionth time but thats not relevant 👀), Arnav can be extremely annoying. And immature too. And he's got flaws and made mistakes the size of Jupiter and not everything is to do with his deep dark past and lack of trust and misunderstandings.

Arnav calling the Gupta house ghatiya and his crappy behaviour leading up to that, for example, is to me one of his lowest moments but also an extremely real one which is perhaps why I have the most viscerally annoyed by it reaction. I am yet to meet someone who forced a girl into a contract marriage for 6 months to save their sister so its hard to take that one personally lol. But I do know about how casually violent classist dynamics can be especially in conservative families where the boy's side is richer than the girl's side. I've seen that exact anxious Gupta family - entitled damadji dynamic first hand. Yeah, this is how rich assholes in India behave and think. There isn't the slightest bit of gratitude or humility for the lottery they won in being one of the 1% of India, instead there is tremendous entitlement to every bit of power they wield combined with a barely concealed disgust/dehumanization of poor people. Unfortunately, best case scenario is actually someone like Arnav - not actively malicious or hostile but passively smugly superior towards anyone not of his "class", careless with his words and actions which often land as loaded weapons, and perfectly comfortable with using his money and power to control the lives of anyone dependent on him.

The ghatiya incident of course was followed by a contrition period of sorts which I do enjoy watching in isolation. But it means nothing really when you remember that well after misunderstandings are cleared, Arnav chose to financially blackmail Khushi with the threat of turning her poor parents out to the streets. That well after love declarations and marriage vows, Arnav in order to win an argument still mocked Khushi's financial status, reminded her of her financial dependency on him and insisted that all financial decisions should be taken by him.

There's a strong strain of classism in the way he thinks, in the language he uses, the numerous uses of the word "aukaad" - anyone who has spent any amount of time in Delhi knows the exact kind of person who frequently throws around the word aukaad. And frankly...its a toss up to me whats more annoying between Arnav's frequent and casual classism and Khushi's frequent and casual violation of people's boundaries.

(Except maybe that Arnav's is more annoying given that, you know, he gets the to tap into the power of oppressive structures of society to enforce all of his annoying habits while Khushi is just like, one annoying girl who often hurts people due to her interfering nature. The person I would consider the biggest victim of Khushi's annoying habits is actually Lavanya. Not Arnav.)