#and then I caught a cold from my brother in law rip

[delicatefury]

In the last 36 hours I-

Was told I needed to be early at my new job the next day to help the judge get ready for a zoom hearing.

At 8pm learned my niece has lice, again. (Someone in her class is in denial about having lice because this is the third time she’s caught them this school year).

Learned she’s been itchy for two weeks and just didn’t tell anyone

Found a friggin’ louse in my hair.

Ran into my younger sister and brother-in-law at Walgreens as she had also found evidence of lice in her hair.

Went through a full Nix treatment.

Spent 3+ hours at my younger sister and brother-in-law’s house so they could help comb my hair out. Most of that time was combing my hair for nits.

Watched the lice episodes of Schitt’s Creek and Bob’s Burgers while getting my hair combed out. and the parasite episode of Futurama because my sister nixed the South Park lice episode.

still had to strip my bed, treat it for lice, and figure out what I’m supposed to do about clothes for the next day when I got home.

Got to bed at 1 AM.

Overslept.

Learned I could use my clothes steamer to treat the clothes I wanted to wear and all my knitwear.

Had the power go out for 5-10 minutes. Terrified my travel clothes steamer was somehow to blame.

Skipped my workout so I could still take my dogs on their walk.

Learned the outage was the power company being stupid when I stopped by the coffee shop on the walk.

Made it to work barely before the girl who was supposed to show me how to get the judge’s computer set up for the hearing.

Found another living louse in my hair right before the end of the workday.

Learned my niece got the infestation from a slumber party over winter break.

Learned they make ivermectin shampoo.

Stopped from spending another $40 by older sister advising Nix killed majority, just need to keep combing with the nit comb for the rest of the week.

Spent two hours relentlessly doing laundry and vacuuming the places of the house I use the most.

Went to my sister’s house for another round of combing.

Saw many dead lice in the bowl of water used to clean the comb.

Realized the louse from earlier probably came from my work chair.

Got back home after only an hour.

Kept doing laundry.

accidentally let the cat escape. The dogs were useless in catching him this time. He dove right under the deck.

Took 20 minutes, a can of tuna, and a pack of Iams wet cat food to lure him back.

Got yelled at by my cat for forcing him to go inside and away from the great big freezing cold world he wanted to explore.

Had to give the bastard the wet food anyway because I accidentally ripped the foil when I snapped the two portions apart (see: spell of summon cat).

Gave the perfectly behaved little lady cat the other portion because she was a perfect little princess and did not cause me trouble today.

Gave the dogs the containers to lick because they were annoying and it was the only way to keep them from stealing the actual cat food.

I still have to replace the sheets on my bed and start one last load of laundry before I go to sleep. I love my niece, but I’m about ready to shave her head myself at this point.

[theconstructorr]

Episode 6: Dark Cupid

A stunning woman, admired for her beauty despite being in a committed relationship, finds herself caught in a web of jealousy and envy. One evening, she accompanies her boyfriend and his parents to a restaurant. When she and her mother-in-law find themselves alone, a man approaches the woman, hitting on her. She politely rejects him, mentioning she has a boyfriend. The mother-in-law, simmering with jealousy, watches with disdain.

Returning to the table, the girlfriend and her boyfriend share unexpected news: she's pregnant. The mother-in-law, her anger bubbling over, later tells her son to kill the woman. He agrees, and the sinister plot unfolds. The girlfriend is lured to visit the in-laws, only to be murdered on the way there by her brother-in-law.

Late that night, her boyfriend calls, frantic when she doesn't return. Panic sets in when he calls the police, and the next day, they confirm her body has been found. He is devastated, his world shattered.

The next day in Ms. Bustier's class, the students are assigned Sleeping Beauty by Charles Perrault. Marinette shares with Alya her love for fairytales as they leave class together. In the hallway, they see Adrien, surrounded by Chloe and Sabrina. Alya scowls, but Marinette's gaze lingers, envy tightening her chest. Alya notices, warning her to stop. Marinette feels ashamed, but Chloe catches her eye and smiles wickedly.

Later, the boyfriend visits the mortuary to see his girlfriend's lifeless body. Overcome with grief, he cries for her and their unborn child.

In Ms. Mendeleiev's class, Chloe grabs Marinette's hand, pulling her aside when everyone else leaves. With a smug smile, Chloe says, "We should be friends."

"What are you talking about?" Marinette responds, confused.

"We have something in common. I'm Adrien's number one friend, and you're his number one fan," Chloe declares, her voice dripping with possessiveness.

Marinette's stomach churns. "You're delusional," she mutters.

Chloe's smile turns cold. "Know your place. Adrien is mine. Stay away from him.”

Chloe leaves, and Marinette stands there, burning with a mixture of anger and confusion. Tikki appears, concerned. Marinette, eyes filled with fury, mutters, "I should've let her stay dead."

"No," Tikki says softly, "don't say that. Remember what Adrien told you? If she bothers you, talk to him."

"But Chloe's right," Marinette sighs. "She's his best friend. Besides, I won't ever get the chance to talk to him."

Back at home, the boyfriend is surrounded by his family. His mother feigns sympathy, but he sees right through her. When she makes a cruel joke about his girlfriend's death, he snaps, attacking his mother in a fit of rage. His siblings pull guns, holding him at bay. His grief turns to sorrow, and he breaks down in tears, his anger giving way to hopelessness. It is then that the darkness overtakes him, and he is Akumatized.

Pain rips through him as dark wings grow from his back. His family flees in terror, but he chases them, shooting arrows that pierce their hearts. They fall, dead, one by one.

At school, Adrien and Chloe are together again. She flirts relentlessly, pulling him into a closet, eager for a kiss. Adrien hesitates but then succumbs to the moment. But as their lips meet, he imagines Ladybug instead, and the kiss feels hollow. Chloe pulls back, her voice full of self-satisfaction. "Don't you think we make the perfect couple?"

"Yeah, sure," Adrien replies, his mind elsewhere.

"Want to come to my house?" she asks, undeterred.

"Why not," Adrien says, deciding he could use Chloe for his own ends. He's tired of waiting for Ladybug.

Meanwhile, Marinette is at home, doing her homework and reading Sleeping Beauty. Tikki smiles at her enthusiasm. "I've never seen you so excited about homework."

"I love fairytales," Marinette admits, lost in thought. "I used to imagine I was the princess, saved by a prince."

"Is Adrien your Prince Charming?" Tikki asks, playfully.

Marinette blushes. "No, he's more than that."

"Well, I'd say Cat Noir is more like Prince Charming," Tikki teases.

"Really?" Marinette asks, surprised.

Tikki nods. "Think about it. All the times he's saved you. He's been more of a Prince Charming than Adrien."

"I still want Adrien to be my Prince Charming," Marinette replies softly, a sigh escaping her lips.

Adrien, meanwhile, is at Chloe's hotel, but something feels wrong. As he walks toward the elevator, it opens, revealing a woman lying on the floor. Her face has been blown off, blood everywhere. Adrien recoils in disgust, his hands covered in her blood. Then, everything goes black.

When he wakes up, Chloe is there, worried. Adrien brushes it off, but his mind is racing.

Later, as he ascends the stairs to his room, his gaze falls on the painting of him and his father hanging on the wall. But before he can look away, the painted figure shifts—his father's image warps into something unrecognizable. The man in the frame becomes a faceless, demonic figure, his eyes voids of darkness. With a guttural snarl, the figure leaps from the canvas, lunging toward Adrien with a horrifying, otherworldly force. His mother's cries echo in his ears, and Adrien is torn between fury and sorrow.

Just as he thinks he can't take it anymore, his mother, now appearing to comfort him, suddenly slits his throat. Adrien falls, blood spilling everywhere.

He wakes again, startled, as Nathalie shakes him awake. He is frantic, his thoughts racing. Later, after Nathalie has gone, Plagg appears.

"Your house is haunted," he says grimly.

Adrien laughs bitterly. "Is it really?"

"I think so," Plagg responds. "Alya got possessed here, and now you and your dad are too."

Adrien, frustrated, mutters to himself, "I need Ladybug to fix this place."

But when Ladybug enters his mind, his thoughts drift to her. "I need to tell her how I feel," he whispers.

Meanwhile, Dark Cupid begins wreaking havoc, shooting arrows that turn people into violent, hate-filled monsters. As chaos erupts on the streets, Marinette and Alya are shot. Marinette does everything she can to protect her friend, but Alya dies in her arms.

Heartbroken but determined, she transforms and chases Dark Cupid, dodging his attacks and trying to find a way to stop him. She summons a rifle, but misses. Dark Cupid pursues her relentlessly. Just as she's cornered, Cat Noir appears and shields her, taking the shot meant for her.

Ladybug cries out, devastated, as she falls to the ground. People from the streets run toward her, and in self-defense, she shoots them. It feels wrong, but she doesn't know what else to do.

Cat Noir and Ladybug fight, but the pain of betrayal and confusion makes Ladybug hesitate. He lunges at her, tackling her to the ground. Pinning her beneath him, he tries to position himself to cataclysm her face. But in a split second of clarity, Ladybug grabs his face and kisses him. Dark Cupid freezes, his confusion palpable for a brief moment, and in that instant, the spell over Cat Noir breaks. He deepens the kiss, unable to stop himself.

Suddenly, an arrow pierces through Cat Noir's back, its sharp tip passing through Ladybug as well. They gasp in agony, and the pain intensifies when Dark Cupid steps on the arrow, driving it further into their bodies. As Hawk Moth's voice echoes, commanding Dark Cupid to bring them both to him, Cat Noir's eyes flare with a newfound strength. He grabs Dark Cupid's ankle, unleashing a devastating cataclysm that sends him crashing to the ground. Without hesitation, Cat Noir follows up with another cataclysm, this time targeting Dark Cupid's torso, obliterating him in a flash of destructive energy. Dark Cupid crumples to the ground, lifeless.

Exhausted and drained, Cat Noir collapses beside Ladybug, both of them struggling to roll onto their sides. As they shift, blood drips from Cat Noir's mouth, splattering across Ladybug's face. He winces, apologizing, his breath ragged.

His voice shakes with pain as he tells her what to do, gripping her shoulders, his body trembling as he attempts to push away from her.

Groaning, Ladybug begins to pull away too, her own body screaming in protest. But slowly, painfully, they manage to create enough distance for Cat Noir to reach the arrow. With a final, desperate cataclysm, the arrow dissolves into nothingness.

In the aftermath, Ladybug immediately activates her miraculous, her power surging through the air as she restores everything to its rightful state. The battle is over.

When the deakumatized man asks what happened, Ladybug simply says, "You were under control."

Cat Noir, now himself again, looks to Ladybug, confused. "What happened to me?"

"You were under a spell," Ladybug explains softly.

Cat Noir looks at her, realization dawning. "And you broke it... by kissing me?"

Ladybug blushes, smiling shyly. "It worked."

Cat Noir looks at her with a spark in his eyes. "So, it's true love, then?"

Ladybug smiles, unsure, as the weight of their shared journey settles between them.

Later, as the sun sets over Paris, Cat Noir pulls Ladybug into a quiet moment, confessing his love for her. She's flustered, unsure of her feelings, but in his embrace, she lets herself feel the warmth of his love.

But back home, Marinette sits on her bed, heart heavy. Tikki asks what's wrong, and Marinette confesses her inner turmoil. "I shouldn't have kissed him," she admits, tears welling up.

"Why not?" Tikki asks gently.

"Because I like Adrien," Marinette whispers, voice trembling.

"Then maybe you can like both," Tikki suggests.

Marinette shakes her head, tears falling. "No... I only want Adrien."

Tikki wraps her arms around her, offering comfort, but Marinette can't shake the pain of her unspoken feelings.

[moonbeam-farmer]

I'm gonna add to this idea, because I love the angst behind it all. @semisolidmind My personal take on it, is that Peaches would be sooooo much bitter with resentment to Azure L when facing him again and doesn't hide it one bit.

I love your AUs Semi!! Hope I do it justice <3

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Azure lion grits his teeth, "You don't have to side with them any longer! It doesn'thave to be like this!" His body nearly gives way from the exhaustion.

This battle wasn't meant to drag on. By now the Jade army must have caught his brothers.

He wasn't meant to die a meanless death. He was meant to rule he heavens. Azure lion was promised so many things in this life; made so many promises to a future he crafted tooth and nail for. He was- is going to lead the mortals into a better life.

"You can come back, I still love you. You are my heart!"

Peaches tucks her hands into the long sleeves of her kimono. She is but an ornadanry human woman. Yet her cold glare stops his racing heart. There's an unspeakable force keeping him grounded. His blood is frozen from the words her lips spill.

"But I was never your queen. Never an equal. You'd never acknowledge who I was to you." Her eyes flick to somewhere over his shoulder in the distance. "Not that it matters now."

There was a time in Peaches' life where used to believe Azure wholeheartedly; him with the dreams of a better world and a noble legacy.

But good intentions often pave the road to hell.

All the time, he told her about the heaven's laws. About how the celestial realm would never accept her, a mere human, as anything more than a hushed scandal. A passing tryst. She would be a less an a trophy at best. Trapped and sufficated in a golden cage and glass walls.

Still, Azure ripped her from her village and casted her into the desolate Camel Ridge. Sentencing her to be an outcast upon arrival. The silence will forever haunt her. She, who Azure had promised to show her the world, only to take it from her; Peaches swallows the bitter memories back.

Once she was the infamous pet of the mighty Azure lion. Now she is the undisputed Queen of flower fruit mountain. A lofty title that she grew into quickly.

Whatever lingering feeling she kept reserved for Azure vanished soon after her second kidnapping. When the demon brothers revealed their true interest in her. They explained everything, no half truths in their affection for her. They laid themselves bare before her, hopelessly in love with the same mortal woman. Peaches was bestowed her a throne in a matter of minutes. Then all the lies, empty promises, and false sincerity Azure fed her for years came crashing down.

Azure always had the power to change her treatment, her title. No one was forcing him to keep to the old conventional ways. The outdated laws about "pure " demon bloodlines.

And yet still knowing this, he stole her from her home. Kept her like an exotic pet under tight lock and key.

She calmly walks past Azure's broken body and into the arms of her new demon husbands, kissing them both tenderly on the cheeks. Both Sun Wukong and the six-eared Macaque nuzzle her neck with such loving and gentle care. Each wraps a tail around her waist, pulling her even closer. They don't shy away escalating their affection. Peaches smiles, closing her eyes.

Her husbands are many things, unstoppable monsters in their own right. But they are always honest to her, no matter how grotesque or foul. They love her beyond themselves, far beyond the normal boundaries of love. It is something so raw, so feral, and dark. She is more than aware of the sins committed in the name of love; but Peaches has long since been desensitized. Asking for forgiveness rather than permission is common in demon courting.

After being isolated for so long, being denied a lover, a wife, not only in name but in affairs as well...

Peaches would chose her new husbands over Azure any day. She may not have her freedom, but she has their respect. With them she's treated as a queen. Waited on hand and foot by her monkey citizens and admired by her demon husbands. Like the the sweetest of wines, Peaches got drunk on the feeling.

She tells herself this isnt healthy. To be so receptive to having basic rights after years being captive. It never stops her from indulging. Fate would have it, the deep craving she has is mutually shared with her boys. A sweet poison Peaches willingly indulges in, time and time again.

In her defense, it's what makes her silly little monkey men so appealing. "Part of their charms," Macaque would always brag.

Peaches hugs them back like second nature. She practically melts into the brothers' warm embrace. Their purrs of aprroval quickly change into whispering sweet nothings and running their claws through her hair.

The light sound of Peaches' laugher shatters the remaining hope Azure had for forgiveness. A bittersweet sound he hadn't heard in over 500 years. He had forgotten the sound entirely.

Azure lion feels sick from the acid building in the back of his throat. His head snaps back as he attempts to straighen his posture. He doesnt hide the threating growl errupts from his wounded chest. He might as well be dead after watching his only love ghost past him like nothing. Like everything he did for her was nothing.

She turns to the Monkey King first, whispering something in to his ear before tugging Macaque's robe. "Take me home, my love. I'm tired."

And just like that, Macaque summons a portal and leads Peaches into the darkness. Azure doesn't have to look to see the smirk on the dark sampien's face.

Before he can think of anything else, a familiar staff shatters the stone wall next to his head. His eyes meet the burning blood red eyes of Sun Wukong.

He too, was once his brother in battle.

"Hey there bud." Sun Wukong's smile doesn't match the bloodlust in his aura.

In a flash of gold, Azure is pinned against the wall. He can't breathe. He can't move. Azure can feel the slow snapping of his neck as Sun Wukong's vice around his neck tightens. The Monkey King's voice is uncharacteristically calm and steady, the smile never once leaving his face.

"We need to talk."

Interesting perspective on the Lion’s Den AU! So would Wukong and Macaque essentially be more “progressive” than other demons in comparison by giving reader the Queen title along with equal footing and power on FFM?

a bit, yeah. i think it plays well into the overarching idea that the monkey king isn't all that "conventional" by demon or celestial standards. he does what he wants.

his allies may have been shocked to hear that his new mate was human, but not surprised. he's known to be eclectic; perhaps he has a hidden preference. a human concubine or two isn't too uncommon for high-ranking demons.

but making a human his queen?

scandalous.

however, it's not like they're gonna challenge the monkey king (or the six-eared macaque for that matter) over who he chooses to marry. defending old-fashioned notions about demon bloodlines is not worth a hit from the cudgel.

[no-warrior-here]

     Just a quick update;

     I should be back to normal activities soon, but alas... This mun has a cold. So, it might be another day or two before I start posting anything of real substance, and I’ll definitely be a bit more selective on replies than usual. Once I’m feeling better though, I’ll make sure to get things done!

     Apologies again to everybody who’s sent starters/replies over the holidays(or before, for that matter) that I haven’t gotten to yet. I’ll be tackling those as soon as I can. And if another week or so passes and there hasn’t been a response, give me a nudge, I probably missed it.

     Anyways, here’s hoping everybody had a happy holiday season!

[minimel-fics]

The Way We Get By - Part 5

Ez Reyes X Reader

Your new business venture leads you into familiar territory.

Warning: Minors do NOT interact with my bog, 18+ only. Contains cuteness, vulgar language, thigh riding, oral sex, and unprotected sex.

This is the epilogue for this series and I just want to thank everyone who read The Way We Get By- some of you following from the original unfinished version. I love you all and I would have never finished this without your support and encouragement!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Masterlist

x x x

It was days like today when Ez wanted nothing more than to find an empty corner of the clubhouse to nurse a nice cold beer and watch his brothers joke around to avoid the stress the day had caused them. It felt like most of their work with the cartel lately had them running around and jumping over whatever obstacles arose, doing more work than they were required to keep on their deal.

Though many of the guys had expressed their annoyance with the nightly chirps of the crickets in the empty desert, Ez always found the sound rather soothing when they were wrapping up a long day which was why he had so quickly noticed the faintest hum had replaced the chirping.

“Do you hear that?” Ez questioned Angel as he helped his brother out of the cellar, letting the door fall shut behind them.

“Hear what?”

Both men fell silent to listen, neither one could pick up the sound that Ez was so sure he had heard. Angel sent his brother a shrug and walked around the house to where they had left their bikes hours earlier, only now your car was parked along with them. Ez paused to glance at the building, finding only one light on- the light in your office.

“Go on, Boyscout.” Angel put on his helmet, nodding toward the house as he did up the strap, “Keep the lady some company, just make sure there aren’t any cameras around this time.”

Ez hesitated until he saw your shadow pass by the open window, your humming loud enough now for both men to hear. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

The biker frowned at the fact that the door had been unlocked, making a mental note to remind you that it wasn’t safe to leave yourself so vulnerable while being alone in the middle of nowhere. The house was dark and quiet, the only sound was your low humming and the creaking of the wooden floorboards under Ez’s dusty boots.

You had found yourself bored in your not yet furnished apartment, only having a bed and tv for the past few weeks had meant that you had binged every show that seemed worthwhile, and now you were at a loss of how to spend your night. While picking that evening's choice of takeout, you had made the rash decision of getting your office painted, it had been the only room in the large house left with the original plain white walls.

You were in your zone, calming music playing in your headphones as you focused on making sure you left no imperfections in the paint. Ez leaned against the door frame to watch you, taking in your faded sweatpants and your hole-filled t-shirt as you hummed a vaguely familiar tune. The same thought clouded his mind that he couldn’t seem to shake since he had seen the video of you dancing on that bar; he missed you. He missed the way you had felt in his arms and the taste of your lips. Most of all, he had missed the nights he sat with you on the worn-out leather couch just down the hall, watching you from the corner of his eye as your poured all of your energy into your law books until he managed to steal your concentration for a deep conversation on an obscure subject.

“I’d lie for you, and that’s the truth,” The lyrics were nearly a whisper as they escaped your lips; the off-key singing told him that you couldn’t hear yourself, which proved to him that you hadn’t heard him come in. You turned ever so slightly to dip your brush in the paint tray, your body freezing as you caught sight of a muscular body standing in the doorway. Your paintbrush clattered onto the drop cloth before your fingers ripped your headphones from your ears as you spun around to face the intruder.

“Fuck, Ez, are you trying to give me a heart attack?” You pressed your palm against your racing heart, feeling its rapid beat stutter underneath your fingertips.

“Sorry,” He apologized, but you could tell by his smirk that he had thought your fright was humorous. “I saw the light on and thought I’d check on you. You should make sure the door is locked when you’re here alone.”

“I must’ve forgotten to lock it when I came in. I had my hands full.” You explained, retrieving the brush from the floor to rest in the paint tray. “Are you hungry? I have leftovers.”

Ez glanced at the small array of takeout containers scattered on the desk in the middle of the room, each one being at least half full. “I could eat.”

“Help yourself.” You wiped droplets of stray paint off your hands on your sweat paints, uncaring as it streaked across the old fabric- your left hand absent of any rings with a glittering diamond.

Ez wouldn’t admit that he had googled you himself after he had been shown the article about you, skimming through it again without eyes watching his every move. It said that you had been engaged, and the excuse your fiance had pushed for your “poor” behaviour was that you had been overserved at your bachelorette party. It also said that once the elevator tape went viral, your fiance was quick to end your engagement.

A comfortable silence filled the room as you painted and Ez munched on the leftover food. Your amusement at his lack of chopstick technique only grew when he proceeded to lift the container to his mouth, using the wooden utensils to shovel the food directly into his awaiting mouth. You dropped the paintbrush into the tray as Ez struggled to wipe crumbs from the short hairs on his chin. He paused as your gentle fingers reached to brush his face, successfully removing the food from his facial hair.

“There, all gone.” You sent him a smile as your eyes met, his dark ones swimming with his inner battle. His hand moved to cover your own, smoothing your dried paint-covered fingers to rest against his warm cheek as his eyes closed at the contact. He had thought about the softness of your skin so many times over the years; knowing that you were now within reach and that you hadn’t made a move to pull away meant you must have thought about him too.

“Ez,” Your soft breath fanned against his skin as you stroked your fingers against his cheek, his eyes opening at your gentle touch, “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” Ez laced your fingers with his own as he pulled you against his chest, “I’m sorry that I’m part of the reason your life fell apart.”

“The loss of my career is regretful, but that’s because society still looks down on women liking sex though I do wish that it wasn’t all caught on camera; I want to note that I do not regret climbing you like a tree.”

Ez’s chest rumbled as he laughed at your phrasing, it was bold and brash, but he couldn’t help but feel prideful at your comment. “Oh yeah?”

You sent him a smirk as you released his fingers to grip the edges of his kutte, the leverage bringing your lips dangerously close to his, “The only thing I regret from that night was letting you sneak out in the morning.”

Ez wrapped his muscular arms around your back as his lips softly met yours. You tightened your grip on the leather to keep yourself grounded as you leaned into the kiss. Every time you had kissed Ez on that fateful night had been driven by lust, just a bridge to bring you closer together- closer to the edge, but this kiss was slow and breathtaking.

“Come on.” You laced your fingers with his and tugged him toward the door, switching the light off behind you.

“Where are we going?”

“To test one of the new beds.”

Neither of you spoke as he followed you up the stairs, a calm and content atmosphere surrounding you as you stepped into one of the few fully set up rooms. Ez used your attached hands to pull you close, his fingers finding the hem of your shirt to remove it- you were suddenly conscious of the fact you had forgone a bra for your painting session. Your body shuttered as the rough skin of his fingertips glided along the soft skin of your back, his thumbs moving to brush your awaiting, sensitive nipples.

You gently pushed the leather off his shoulders, showing the kutte extra care as you laid it on top of the empty bedside table. When you turned back toward Ez, he had removed his shirt, the dedication he put into his physique was on full display, and you couldn’t help but stare.

There was a cheeky smile on Ez’s face as he reached for the drawstring on your sweatpants; one simple tug of the string loosened the pants enough for them to fall off your hips and land around your ankles.

“You are magnificent.”

You felt yourself melt inside at the soft look in Ez’s eyes as he took in your nearly nude frame. Your body had matured and changed in the years that had passed, and it only made Ez appreciate your beauty even more. Ez pulled you to the bed with him, positioning you to straddle his jean-clad lap, his mouth wasting no time to find yours once again. His fingers dug into your hips as he pulled you impossibly closer, the thin material of your underwear brushing against the growing bulge in his pants.

The energy between you was growing, and the anticipation began to overwhelm you- you had often reminisced of your night with Ez when spending nights on your own, your body craving to once again be granted that level of pleasure while Ez had spent a bold amount of time in the sanctuary of his bed with your sex tape on repeat.

Neither of you had noticed your body shift until a small gasp left your lips as your hips dragged along his thigh in search of friction.

“You like that?” Ez tightened his grip on your hips, easily manipulating your body to repeat the action. “Such a dirty girl, getting off on my thigh. Let’s take these off.”

Ez’s hands detached from your hips to maneuver your soaked underwear down your legs, tossing them into the abyss with the rest of your clothing. A low whine escaped your lips as you picked up your rhythm. The rough fabric of his jeans against your exposed clit had you moving toward your orgasm at a record pace. Ez helped you along by bouncing his knee and flexing his thigh to add more pressure, his mouth leaving wet kisses down your neck until his lips found your hardening nipples.

“Fuck, Ez, I’m gonna cum.”

“I’ve got you, baby. Take what you need.”

Your hips stuttered, and your head fell back as the coil in your abdomen snapped. Your hand roughly settled itself on the growing bulge in Ezekiel's pants as you chased the high, the contact drawing a groan from deep within the biker’s chest.

“Whoops.” Your eyes were glued to the large dark patch on Ez’s jeans as you pushed yourself into a standing position, ignoring the wobble of protest from your legs.

“You think you can go again?” Ez asked as he stood, wasting no time as he pulled the belt from his pants and let his jeans drop the floor.

“If you didn’t fuck me now, then I would be severely disappointed.”

“Get on the bed,” Ez commanded, his eyes never leaving your body as you settled into the sheets. You lay on your back with your head resting on a fluffy pillow, anxiously awaiting his next move. His hands wrapped around your ankles, spreading your legs to find your thighs glistening from your last release. Your breath caught in your throat as he ran a single finger through your folds, circling your sensitive clit before sinking two into your slick.

“I missed your taste.” He leaned down until his face was level with your core, his tongue following the same action as his finger before pressing flat against you to lap up your juices.

“Fuck, Ez.” The sensitivity from your last orgasm had you teetering on edge, your hips rutting toward his warm mouth as you chased your next high. He pulled away just as you felt your breath begin to hitch, his tongue swiping along his lips to collect your extra juices. Before you could even out your breathing, he had moved to kneel between your thighs, pulling you by the back of the knees until he found the perfect angle to push himself into you. You both groaned as he stretched you, his pace slow to let you adjust to his size; once he was sure that he wasn’t going to hurt you, he pushed further in until he had bottomed out.

“You feel so fucking good.”

He rocked his hips against yours, the gentle push and pull against your walls felt better than anything you had ever felt. Ez kept his tender movements as he picked up his pace, his abdominal muscles flexing as he struggled to keep a steady pace. You weren’t sure if he had gotten even better at pleasuring you or if your acknowledged feelings were enhancing the experience.

You pulled his head down so you could reach his lips, the kiss slow yet sloppy as your poured yourselves into it. Ez shifted his hips, finding a new angle that caused his member to brush over tender spot repeatedly, your body rocking against his with more enthusiasm as you climbed your peak.

“You close?”

“Don’t stop, please, don’t stop!” Your vision blurred as you pleaded, Ez picking up his pace to help you find the release you so desperately needed. You could feel the muscles in his back tense under your fingers as he grew closer to his own high. “Cum inside me. I need to feel it.”

“Fuck.” Ez grunted as you clenched around him, milking him of every drop of cum he had as a vulgar whine escaped your parted lips. Your breathing was heavy as you clung to each other, needing a moment to collect yourselves before your bodies parted. Ez’s eyes were glued to the mixture of your cum dripping out of your leaking slit as he slowly pulled out of you.

“Holy shit.” You sighed, exhaustion washing over you like a wave as your body struggled to come down.

Ez stood, ignoring the way your eyes followed his naked body as he exited the room, returning a moment later with a damp towel to help clean you up.

He knelt between your open thighs, resisting the urge to bury his face back between them as your thighs continued to shake and your abdomen convulsed.

“Careful.” You watched wearily as he rubbed the towel gently against you, his eyes glued to the task at hand, making sure not to cause you any discomfort. He tossed the towel to the side, knowing that it would be picked up in the morning when you were ready to pop your little bubble of bliss. He helped you get under the covers of the bed, slipping his boxers over his hips before he slid in beside you. You rolled onto your side to face him, snuggling further into his arms when he wrapped them around you.

“This is nice.” You struggled to conceal a yawn, “I could get used to this.”

“You should get some sleep. I will be right here in the morning.” Ez promised, his lips planting a soft kiss against your forehead as your eyes fluttered shut, satisfied and content.

x x x

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[lubdubsworld]

A Tale Untold. ( Jungkook x Oc)

Historical Au! General Jungkook! x Princess Oc!

Warnings : Non con/ Dub con, Manipulation, violence.

Rated 18+

Summary : The King of Elvyra is proud of his empire and of his perfect family. But the truth behind his ascension, is a tale that remains untold.

“The palace is so beautifully maintained your Majesty. Truly, such opulent splendor …..” The envoy from the neighboring Kingdom stood slack jawed in the Grand Hall, staring around at the gleaming trophies, mounted shields and gold embossed portraits that decorated the walls.

The brocade curtains had been left open, tied together with silk braided ropes with jeweled hangings, the light from the late afternoon sun setting the whole place aglow. On ornate tables scattered across the large room, stood little treasures and trinkets that had been taken as bounty from successful military campaigns against smaller, weaker Kingdoms.

All of it a testament to the unchallenged power wielded by General Jeon Jungkook, the King of Elvyra. He was not like the other monarchs. He still commanded his army personally despite wearing the title of King.

Jeon Jungkook, who stood to my left, with his arm wrapped around my waist in a possessive grip that was just shy of painful.

“ You must thank my beautiful queen for that, I’m afraid, Sir Cha. She has been much occupied with setting the Hall and the Palace to rights after my ascension, and her efforts have paid off. Have they not, princess?” Jungkook whispered, turning around to brush soft lips against my ear and I felt physically sick.

The last endearment was a sneer. And insult. A reminder of what I was : a captive.

“Yes, my King.” I said softly, keeping my tone level. I wouldn’t dare act up in front of guests, because Jungkook’s punishments would be cruel and merciless. He would keep my sister away from me, or worse, he would forbid me from spending time with our oldest son.

Jihwan was only seven, but already he was being trained as the heir, spending hours on the training fields with his father and it took endless hours of begging and servicing Jungkook in his bed and out of it, for me to be allowed a scant few hours with the boy.

Jungkook drilled into his head the importance of power, the need to instill fear in his subordinates, raising him to be just as ruthless and cruel as he himself was and I had only those few stolen hours to speak to my son about the values that I had grown up with. My heart ached when I remembered the kind of monarch my own father had been : a kind, gentle man who loved his Kingdom. And my elder brother had been raised with morals , compassion and justice in his veins, only for Jeon Jungkook and his barbaric army to invade our home and destroy it all.

“Your beauty outshines all of this, my Queen.” A man simpered next to me and Jungkook’s eyes narrowed at him. I swallowed. Jungkook didn’t like others looking at what was his.

“The story of your ascension to the throne here, we would love to hear of it.” One of the women said and my breath caught in my lungs, Memories flooded my head, traumatizing and painful. My skin went hot and then icy cold and my husband laughed next to me.

“It was quite simple. I was offered the throne and the lovely daughter of the Kingdom, in return for saving them from ruin, was it not, my dear?”

Liar.

“I.. Yes.”

“Ruin? Was your kingdom is trouble, my Queen?” the woman asked.

~~~~~~

No. We were rich and thriving. Everyone was treated equal here. My parents ruled with a heart of gold and everyone was well fed and joyful. We held festivals every month, celebrated life and never deemed ill will to anyone else. We loved each other. The commonfolk dined with the royals in the courtyards and the King himself drank at the cavern down in the village. The oldest prince, my brother, he played with the boys in the village, taught them how to wield the sword and the bow and arrow and my sister and I… we spent our days in the meadows…. Making daisy chains and stealing kisses from the stable boys.

~~~~~

“ They were in desperate need of firm leadership. My father in law, may he rest in peace….he had a weak heart that gave out soon after our alliance. Her brother followed soon after leaving me no choice but to take over.” Jungkook’s voice held a note of genuine sympathy and I felt sick to my stomach.

~~~~~~~~

The sight of my father, kneeling in front of his throne, shackled and in chains. My mother on her knees, begging for mercy and Jungkook’s men held a dagger to her throat. My brother standing in front of me and my sister, arms spread wide as he stared right at General Jeon, refusing to kneel.

“What you’re doing goes against every law on earth, Jeon. The moment you attack a foe when he has his back turned you reveal yourself to be a coward.”

And Jungkook had laughed, loud and uncaring.

“And if I stab him through the heart when he’s right in front of me? What does that reveal?”

It had happened in a flash, the quick movement of his wrist, the flash of silver as he drew his weapon and then the sickening squelch of the blade as it sunk through skin and flesh. The hot wetness of my brother’s blood as it splattered all over my face, the dawning horror as I realized that he had run the sword right through my brother’s heart and the endless screams from my mother and sister as my brother died right in front of our eyes.

I had stood there, too stunned to scream watching the boy who had taught me how to walk bleeding to death in front of me and when I had looked up, Jungkook’s eyes had been trained on mine.

“Bring her here” He had said firmly, pointing right at me and my entire world had exploded in agony. I screamed in protest as his men grabbed me by the arm, yanking me forward with such force that my legs gave out, dragging over the rough stone floors as they pulled me to stand in front of the man who had invaded our home without remorse.

“General Jeon….” My father’s voice came from behind me , soft and yet firm. I could hear the grief and pain in the syllables, and I wondered how much my father must be aching at this moment. He had loved my brother with his whole heart “ We’ve offered to surrender, offered you the throne. Please. Spare my daughters and my wife. There is a summer palace at the edge of the kingdom . We will retire there and live our lives out in exile. Please… don’t hurt them. They are too young to understand what you’re doing.”

One of the men standing next to Jungkook stepped forward and I glanced at him, my eyes widening when I saw his face. He looked like an angel, pristine and flawless. And his gaze was trained on my sister . I felt my heart began to pound as he began making his way over to her.

“No!! No… Aline!!” I screamed and Jungkook’s hand shot out gripping my jaw and forcing my mouth closed.

“Hold your tongue, woman.” He whispered. “ My patience wears thin.” He glanced at my father and the smirk on his face grew bigger. “ I think that would be such a pity, your highness. A face like your daughter’s … it doesn’t belong in exile. It belongs on the throne…. does it not, princess?”

“Your daughters are beautiful , majesty. They deserve to have handsome, brave husbands, do they not?” the man who had gone to my sister called out, his fingers curled around her arm as he dragged her to the front and I felt my heart crack in two as Aline burst into loud, miserable tears.

“Lulu…. Lulu make him stop… tell him to let me go…” She whimpered , punching fruitless against the soldier’s armored chest and the man seemed amused as he stared at her.

“Please…she’s too young…” I begged, staring at Jungkook beseechingly. “ She’s only sixteen summers old… Please don’t hurt her…”

“Sixteen isn’t a child. She is old enough to bear one herself.” The man holding her snapped angrily and I stiffened.

“A fair enough point, Taehyung- ah…” Jungkook laughed “ but we’re not barbarians. Let her go for now.”

“What?” Taehyung growled. “ No. I want her. Jungkook I’ve never taken anything from any of the countless kingdoms we’ve ravaged but I want her.” He shook my sister like she was ragged doll and Aline looked catatonic with terror.

“Please , let her go, she’s shaking…” I begged , trying to yank my arms away from the men holding me and Jungkook growled.

“Shut your mouth or your father dies.” He snarled and I was too stricken, too distracted to register what he had said, too focused on my baby sister to listen.

“please Jungkook, don’t do this… She’s young and she’s scared….”

Jungkook’s snarl of rage made me go white as a sheet and I watched in horror as he pointed straight at my father with the sword that still dripped with my brother’s life blood.

“ Get rid of the old fool.” He roared and my heart ripped straight in two.

“NO!!!!!!!”

My loud cry did nothing to deter the men holding my father who showed not a moment of hesitation, raising their sword.

“Remember who you are, Iseul!!” My father said loudly and I turned my face away, closing my eyes as the sickening sound of the blade coming down rang through the place, my mother’s howl of agony following shortly after. I stared at the floor, going limp in the arms of the men holding me up, my body numb and throbbing in disbelief.

“Now look what you made me do.” Jungkook snapped. “ I was going to let the poor fool live, somewhere in the dungeons with your mother but your complete and utter disregard for my authority….it fills me with rage, Iseul.” He snapped.

I couldn’t breathe, my lungs constricting. They were dead. My father and brother, the only two men who had protected me and my sister all our lives, they were both dead. This man. No, not a man. A monster.

This cruel, heartless monster had butchered them in front of my eyes.

“Look at me.” He said suddenly, stepping in front of me.

I didn’t respond, keeping my gaze trained on the floor and his hand shot out, gripping my chin and forcing me to look up at him.

“Look at me.” He said firmly. “ Come morning we will be wed. I will be your husband. You will belong to me. You will give me strong heirs and all of your wants and needs will be mine to fulfill. Do you understand what that means, Iseul?” He demanded.

I choked on a sob.

“Jungkook we need to get rid of the bodies. Give them a proper funeral at least.” Another man stepped out of the shadows and Jungkook sighed.

“Yes, hyung. Taehyung-ah… Why don’t we take our new brides to our chambers?” He smirked, “ I could do with some stress relief now that the hard part of this whole thing is done.”

“Took you long enough. Come here my pretty doll…” Taehyung grinned, dragging Aline away and I whimpered, stumbling to try and follow but Jungkook’s arm came around my waist squeezing tight.

“That’s her husband now. Think of it that way and it will hurt less. Your sister is married to a man who will love her , protect her and cherish her. He will give her nice strong children. What more do you want for her?”

I exhaled shakily, turning to him.

“ What do you know of love, you monster?” I whispered.

Jungkook hummed.

“Then how about this, my princess. Let me teach you what I know of pleasure, and you can teach me all about love.”

It was a lesson that I never forgot. A painful, humiliating excruciating lesson in his bed where he stripped of my clothes, my dignity and the last shreds of my honour.

I stared at the ceiling as he lay over me, the large expanse of his chest pinning me to the mattress, the slick drag of his member inside me making me ache and throb, his lips, pressing kisses against my throat.

“you smell like a flower garden, my angel. So pure and precious. Made for me, I see….” He whispered, hips pushing up against mine as he ducked into me with long, rough strokes.

I stayed still staring into nothing and he pinched my nipple, twisting the buds till I whimpered.

“Please…”

“please what?” He whispered, resting his forehead against mine, forcing me to stare into doe eyes that seemed to glitter like the clear sky on a spring night. What a beautiful monster.

“Please stop…” I whispered.

“Stop…” He laughed cruelly. He pulled out fully before slamming back in with more force. Pain lanced up my body. “ Now why would I do that?”

“Hurts…” I whispered, exhausted. My hands lay limp and tired next to my head, throbbing from trying to punch him countless times to no avail.

“Poor little love. It hurts because you aren’t used to it. I will do this often and well and soon, your body will know that I belong inside you. And then you will beg me to make it last longer… not stop.”

I closed my eyes, staring into my mind. Remember who you are? I didn’t even know who I was anymore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Of course, it was a pity that the royal blood came to an end that way. But some things can’t be helped.” Jungkook said firmly, arm still wrapped around me in a vice like grip. I glanced at the sun as it dipped lower in the sky. Was Jihwan done with the training? I wanted to see him. To hold him and remind myself that there was still some goodness in the world.

“But under your rule, the kingdom has thrived, your Majesty. So it was all for the best.” The man said brightly and Jungkook chuckled.

“That is true. Would you like to view the training grounds now?”

“If, I maybe excused?” I asked softly and Jungkook frowned.

“Is something the matter?”

“I feel a little unwell…” I said softly and the look on his face darkened.

But he didn’t protest, merely dipping his head lightly.

“Jihwan is in the west wing. He’s working on his scribing skills. You may visit him for a while and after our guests retire, I will fetch you from him.”

I bowed respectfully.

“Thank you, my King.”

~~~~~~~~

“Mother!!!” Jihwan’s loud cry rang through the hallway as he came barreling into my arms. I caught him too my chest, eyes stinging because soon he would be too old for me to hug and kiss and caress.

“My darling child, I’ve missed you..” I whispered.

“You saw me last night at dinner…” He laughed.

“And that is entirely too long ago.” I brushed the hair of his face. “ did you eat your meals? Have you been keeping yourself safe?”

He nodded eagerly.

“Auntie Aline and Uncle Tae bought me a new dagger.”

I felt my heart drop. A dagger?

“Darling, please be safe…Is it too sharp?”

“A little. But Uncle Tae told me I’m old enough to learn how to use it to fight.”

I closed my eyes, willing my self not to scream in frustration.

“Alright. But now unless your father is there to watch you, alright?” I whispered.

He nodded.

“Yes, mother. Mother…. “ He hesitated. “ Do Auntie Aline and Uncle Tae love each other?”

I blinked.

“What?”

“She looks so sad, sometimes.”

I bit my lips, willing myself to smile. Unlike me , my sister didn’t know how to put on an act. She had always been a delicate child and the trauma of our parents death and Taehyung’s cruelty had taken a toll on her. She was deeply depressed but her husband didn’t care. All Taehyung cared for was her body and the two sturdy sons she had borne him, a third child on the way.

“Of course darling. You do know, Han and Jiwoo are going to have a younger sibling soon? She must be tired from growing the baby inside her.”

“Will I have a sibling too?” He asked innocently and I opened my mouth to refute the idea when a shadow fell over us.

“Would you like one, my brave little tiger?” Jungkook’s voice rang over us and I stiffened.

“No.” I said swiftly, “ He enjoys having all of mama’s attention, don’t you darling?”

Jihwan wrinkled his nose.

“I don’t know. A little sister would feel nice.”

Jungkook hummed.

“I like the idea of that. If you give me a daughter then we can have her betrothed to Han at birth.” He said casually and I felt sick.

“Jihwan, you must go back to your lessons, now. Your mother and I will see you at dinner.” Jungkook said softly and I flinched when Jungkook gripped my shoulders tugging me away from my boy. Everyday Jihwan looked less and less upset at leaving me and I wondered if one day he would begin welcoming my departure.

Jungkook didn’t say a word, turning me around and leading me gently to the opposite wing, where our bedchamber lay. It was a path I traipsed a million times in the seven years we’d been married and yet, it felt just as unbearable as it had back then.

The sight of the King made the maids and footmen scramble away in a panic and I swallowed as he opened the large engraved doors , prompting me to go in. I stepped in only to have him press against my back at once. I stayed still, letting him untie the strings of my train, before moving to undo the button of my gown. He stopped halfway through.

“This is tedious. Strip for me and get on the bed.”

I didn’t move. What did he want? Surely he wouldn’t be thinking of humoring my son? The idea of bearing more children for him was abhorrent to me. I wanted to cry. But I did as he said, carefully stripping out of all my clothes ,m placing them in a neat pile, on the table nearby before moving to climb into the bed for him. Jungkook moved into sit against the headboard, before grabbing my wrists and pulling me to his lap.

“Look at me.” Jungkook said, once I sat straddling his thick thighs, the curve of my bottom resting against the hardness of his arousal. “ I was right, wasn’t I?”

I stared at him as his hands came up to pinch both of my nipples at the same time, playing with the hardened numbs till I began squirming on his hard length.

“ You were made for this weren’t you? To be my queen and my wife? Such a perfect mother too. I was right to choose you, wasn’t I?”

I stared at him, the handsome face that I wanted to hate., But it was hard. He had given me Jihwan. He had let me keep my sister at arm’s length. He had let my mother live out her years in the palace, although the grief had killed her two years ago. It could be worse, I told myself, lifting and moving to line the tip of his member against my body and sinking down on him. It could be so much worse.

“Fuck…yes. Just like that angel….” He gripped my waist, bucking up into me and my body caved, now used to the intrusion.

“Yes…” I choked out, when his thumb moved to press against my center, rubbing circles.

“I was right….I’m always right . Your body knows I belong inside you.”

He pulled me close, arms a vice around my body and I choked as he fucked into me .

“Say it… “ He demanded and I closed my eyes, sorrow and helplessness welling into tears and brimming over my eyes onto his shoulders and down his back. But Just as I was used to him inside me, Jungkook was used to the tears soaking him whenever we did this.

“Don’t stop.” I breathed.

The King after all was always right.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's Note : Would you guys like another part? But please tell me what you thought !!

[comfortwriting]

Possessive - G.W

George Weasley x Fem Reader

Masterlist, Request Rules

About: While working at the twins shop, a male customer makes a move on the reader and tries to grab her. The reader calls out for her boyfriend, George, who comes over and beats up the man, causing Fred to close early. George and the reader go to their flat and whilst cuddling, George gets possessive in a smutty way.

Warnings: heavy, filthy smut, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, arousal by tears, slapping, female receiving oral, aftercare and swearing.

“There's no more boxes down there, Freddie.” You called out, walking over to the shop window, carrying three large boxes in your arms. “These are all we have until next week.” 

Being able to work at Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes with your fiancé and soon to be brother in law made life more enjoyable after the losses you experienced during the war, you were so thankful that your fiancé (now missing an ear) and the rest of the Weasley's made it out alive - many people you knew weren’t so lucky.

“Cheers for letting me know, love!” Fred replied, shouting over the crowd of heads of customers “I’ll make sure to order more in for next week!”

With the summer holidays coming to a close around the corner, the joke shop was almost stripped bare each day with students coming in to stock up on Skiving Snackboxes and the variety of Fred and George’s special WonderWitch products.

“The Pygmy Puffs are due anytime now!” George called out, causing more customers to ask when and how they could get their hands on one.

Getting down on your knees you opened the boxes and started to place more love potions out on the shop floor, squeezing past the many customers who were overflowing the place. 

With every Love Potion, Extendable Ear and Skiving Snackboxes you placed out, they were running scarce within minutes, George barely had a moment to shoot you a loving glance or a cheeky wink; but you were over the moon that Fred and George had made such a huge success after their family had struggled to get by for decades. 

Fred and George had to find a new manufacturer after the demand got too high - they couldn’t keep up with it by themselves.

The twins continued to help out and serve as many customers as they could, the crowd finally dying down, giving them time to breathe before the next bout of essential shoppers and die hard fans came crashing back in. 

Getting down to your last box of Reusable Hangman, you placed them out on the shop floor. Feeling relieved that the final re-stock of the day had finished, you took a deep breath and wiped the sweat from your brow. 

Walking around the shop to check everything was out, you accidently bumped into a much taller customer viewing the Love Potions.

“I’m so sorry!” you panicked “I was miles away-”

The customer turned around and smirked at you, his long and silky black hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail, his piercing green eyes searched yours, making you feel as if he was reading into your soul.

“Not a problem, darling.” He replied, cocking up an eyebrow. 

Feeling embarrassed and flustered, you apologised once more and tried to hurry away to other side of the shop but the customer stopped you, grabbing you by the arm.

Fred caught the guy out of his eye and nudged George, telling him to keep an eye on him closing in on you.

“If he comes onto her one more time, I swear-”

Fred shushed his brother and forced him to keep working.

“Hey, Hey, don’t go running away now sweetheart.” the man said with a chuckle, pulling you back over and putting you in the corner. “so, what are these love potions then?”

The man held the glass heart bottle in his hand, staring at it before looking back into your eyes.

You swallowed hard and sighed, you knew this man was toying with you and that he was getting off on making you flustered, you had dealt with the odd one or two customers before but none had never grabbed you like he did. 

“Uh, the label on the back should tell you.” you replied nervously, pointing at the obvious description on the bottle. “we added that so customers wouldn’t get confused.”

George, still serving customers watched you like a hawk, Fred reassured him that you would kick him out if needed, like you had done with plenty of customers before.

The man turned the bottle and looked at the little label, then held out the potion in front of you “I would prefer it if you could explain.” he smirked again, pissing off George. 

You sighed again and gently took the Love Potion from him, if you knew any better you would kick him out straight away but you knew how much Fred and George relied on the sales they made this time of year to keep their shop running smoothly.

“They cause the drinker to become infatuated or obsessed with the person who gave it to them.” you answered, becoming inpatient. 

The man bit his lip and studied your face “go on..”

“Sick bastard.” George muttered under his breath, slamming the till shut.

“George, not yet-” Fred tried to warn his brother but failed.

George slowly made his way over to you, his hands were clenched in tight fists, the veins in his arms and hands bulging, his knuckles turning white - he wanted to rip this mans head off.

“The Love Potions work regardless whether the giver is present or not when the recipient drinks it. The longer you keep it, the more potent the effects become.”

Wanting nothing more than to walk away and finally have a satisfied customer, you walked out of the corner he trapped you in, and pushed past him until you felt his hand tighten around your arm once more. “Don’t walk away-”

Trying to free yourself from his grip you panicked and called out for George, searching around the shop to spot where he was hiding.

“Don’t lay another finger on my wife!” George yelled, swinging his arm and punching the man across the face. 

The creepy customer instantly let go of you when he took the blow, you moved out of the way almost tripping over, accidentally smashing the love potion. 

Fred kept yelling at George to stop, but he wouldn’t and he didn’t want to.

Hearing George’s fist collide with the customers face over and over was enough to make Fred get the other customers out of the shop, apologising to them and saying he’ll open up earlier tomorrow to make up for closing so soon at such short notice.

“Don’t ever touch her, again!” George yelled again, grabbing the man by his collar and punching him again.

George could see so much red the man didn’t have enough time to defend himself, George’s right hand was busted, his knuckles cut open, bruised and bloody. The customers nose was also busted and leaking out blood, his bottom lip suffering a cut and his face slowly swelling up.

“George, please!” you begged, running over to him.

You grabbed George’s left arm that was gripping onto the mans collar and kept pulling. “George just stop!”

Not wanting to lash out and accidentally hurt you, George let go of the man and got to his feet, kicking him in the stomach before walking away.

“Fred, kick him out.” George ordered, stomping up the stairs to your shared flat. 

Fred nodded and walked over to the now whimpering man, grabbing his shirt at the back of his neck, you opened the door and Fred pushed the man outside, kicking him in his lower back before slamming the door shut.

“Fred, I’m so sorry-” 

Fred pulled you into a tight hug “don’t you dare apologise, the dodgy perv had no right to put you in such an uncomfortable situation” he pulled back and watched the man scramble to his feet and walk away.

“We’ll make sure he never steps foot in here again.” Fred glared through the window, walking behind the till and pulling out the cash register, the sickles and galleons sliding around inside.

You grabbed out your wand and cleaned up the Love Potion, walking over to your soon to be brother in law, you took the cash from him. 

“I’ll sort it” you said quietly “George is up there and probably wants to be alone.”

Fred nodded and handed you the shop keys, walking over to the door “see you tomorrow, y/n.”

“see you, Fred.”

After locking up, and going upstairs into the office, you placed the cash register on the table and sat down, checking everything and handing your tiny tawny owl a letter to deliver to the manufactures regarding current stock shortages and requiring more products.

Finally finishing for the day, you walked into the bathroom and noticed blood in the sink, going into the bedroom you found George laid down staring at his bandaged fist. You sat down on the bed and took his hand in yours, using your other hand to lift up his chin so he could look at you.

“It’s okay Georgie.” you reassured him softly “It’ll never happen again.”

George’s hard and stone cold eyes softened when they met with yours.

“It shouldn’t have happened in the first place, I should’ve kicked him out sooner.” He muttered, chewing on his lip.

“George, just stop. I’m okay, everything is okay.”

For the rest of the evening you and George cuddled naked in bed, listening to your vinyl records, the two of you not speaking a word to each other. Whilst cuddling George ran his hand over your body and up your inner thigh squeezing it.

“Ruddy sicko, thinking he could have you.”

The hairs stood up on the back of your neck and a chill went down your spine, you loved it when George became possessive, when he made it clear you were his property and no one else could even utter as much as a look or word to you.

When George was like this, you loved toying with him, making him jealous and more possessive - it was that side of George that riled you up more than any other. 

“You called me your wife” you breathed out, smirking slightly “which I’m not... we’re not married yet.”

George’s hand travelled up to you heat, his soft and long digits stroking your clit, his hot breath resting against your neck, George placed his mouth by your ear, teasing you.

George suddenly sat up in bed and pulled your naked body down the bed, towering over you he strikes you across the face and grabs you by the chin, forcing you to look at him.

“You’re mine.” he growled “do you understand?”

You stayed quiet for a moment, adjusting to the hot stinging on your cheek, you looked into George’s eyes and noticed the rage he the had earlier. 

George cocked an eyebrow at you and slapped your clit, making you jump and yelp out.

“I’m yours! I understand!” 

He smirked at your reply and lowered himself down, pulling your legs over his shoulders. George sucked on his index and middle finger before spitting on them, inserting them inside of you, pumping gently.

George looked up at you for a moment and looked down at your wet pussy, attacking it with kisses and long, fast strokes with his tongue. 

The pleasure was nothing short of incredible, your G-Spot and clit being stimulated at the same time, over and over, had you arching your back and moaning George’s name like it was the only word you knew.

“George... oh George...”

George sucked on your clit whilst swirling his tongue around the head, making it go red, every now and then he would pull away from your pussy and spit on it, his silky, warm saliva running over your clit and between your folds.

His fingers switched from pumping inside of you to repeating the ‘come here’ motion against your G-Spot, the squelching noise you were making against his fingers made George’s cock even harder.

George lifted his head and looked at you, feeling more lust ignite inside him as he watched you become a moaning mess, running one of your hands over your breast, caressing it. 

“I don’t hear you moaning that mans name” he said softly, a little bit of pride shining through his voice.

You bit your lip and felt daring, you didn’t want leave George feeling satisfied with himself just yet.

 “I never got his name.” you replied, seeing George’s proud expression drop.

George immediately withdrew his fingers that were now coated in your juices, he got up from in between your legs and grabbed you by the hair, pulling your face down beneath him.

“Open your dirty fucking mouth”  he ordered, slapping you across the face once more when you didn’t comply.

Finally opening your mouth, he forced his fingers inside your mouth, ramming them down your throat and making you gag, causing your eyes to water.

“suck your juices off my fingers, taste yourself.”

Doing as you were told, George quickly pulled his fingers out of your mouth and pushed you back into the mattress, letting go of your hair. He slapped your tits and went back in-between your legs, stroking his cock and slapping it against your pussy to tease you.

“is that what you want?” George asked, mocking your whimpers and pleas. 

You nodded your head and you blinked out the tears forming in your eyes. 

“Yes, I want you inside me.” you pushed yourself against George’s erection.

George smirked and took both of your legs in his hand, placing them against one of his shoulders, holding them in place. He spat into his hand and spread his saliva all over his cock before pushing himself inside your tight pussy. 

The two of you moaned out in pleasure, George adjusting to your tightness and you adjusting to his size. George slammed into you, his cock hitting your G-Spot each with each and every thrust, with his free hand still coated in his saliva, he rubbed your clit in quick circular motions.

The feeling of your clit and G-Spot being stimulated at the same time over and over became incredibly intense, you bucked your hips against George and he stopped holding your legs, bending over you instead and holding you down.

“I can feel you tightening around me.” he grunted “don’t you dare cum.” 

You shook your head and more whimpers spilled out of you “please-”

George shook his head “you’ll cum when I say so.” he continued to fuck you and play with your clit, causing you to shake beneath him.

“George, please-” you begged, your tears flowing from your eyes and running down your cheeks.

You couldn’t hold yourself back for much longer, your clit became sore and red, your pussy felt swollen and the desperation to cum was starting to become unbearable. 

“cum for me then, love.” George approved “cum all over my fucking cock.” 

George kept slamming into you and kept rubbing your clit, liquid squirting from beneath you, your head dropped back and your legs rattled like an open door in the wind. Your cum all over George’s cock and your liquid soaking the bed. 

George felt himself getting closer from seeing you get off from him continuing to toy with you, making you cry. 

“George” you wailed, gripping onto the edge of the mattress. 

“I’m going to cum” he groaned “cum again for me, I know you’re desperate.”

Reaching the top of the rollercoaster once more, you felt yourself plummet down, cumming again, the inside of your pussy and your clit incredibly raw and red.

George picked up his pace and pooled himself inside of you, planting a kiss on your forehead before pulling out and laying beside you; the two of you panting and exhausted. 

Once the two of you recovered, George sat up and walked over to the bathroom, running you a bath.

Coming back into the bedroom he studied your face and turned the side of your face he slapped, looking it over.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly “I didn’t break any boundaries did I?”

You shook your head “no not at all” you replied “I’m a little sore though” you chuckled.

“I’m sorry” he gave you a soft look and stood up, lifting  you into his arms, carrying you into the bathroom and placing you into the bathtub.

George climbed into the tub and sat behind you, washing your back and you hair, placing kisses down your neck and onto your shoulders.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, thinking about how easy it was to get under George’s skin but you felt so relieved knowing that he was there to protect you when you needed him most.

You leant back into his arms and looked up at him, getting lost in his eyes. 

“When will you make me your wife then?” you smiled.

George smiled back and stroked your face “sooner than you think.”

[sirthisisa-wendys]

To Heaven and Back: Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

synopsis: Surfing isn't always done on the water.

wc: 1.5k

tw: NSFW (minors DNI)

“You did pretty well out there,” you hear over your shoulder, and you turn to face the handsome surfing instructor that happened to be your friend’s brother-in-law. “You’re a friend of Nissa’s?”

“Yeah,” you begin, pushing your wet locks behind your face. “But you know she’s not coming. She backed out because her company has a major presentation due this week, and I’m heading back tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.” Geto Suguru shrugs, placing his surfboard against the wall before pulling a lever that releases clean, fresh water over his entire body. You watch the rivers of water run from his hair and down his back, where bunches of muscles you can’t even name gathered together and made a path for the water to travel down past his waist and to his shorts. “Are you staying in the beach house?”

“Y-yeah,” you answer, eagerly trying to find something - anything - to get your mind off of the hunk in front of you, like the fact that your legs are getting tanner.

“Do you mind if I stay over for the night before I drive back to the mainland? I mean, it’s our parent’s beach house, but I don’t know if you want privacy or…”

“No, that’s cool!” you blurt, maybe a little too excitedly.

He turns to face you, smiling widely and making the shaka sign with his right hand. “Right on.”

_____________________________________________________________

The hot water from the shower soothes your aching muscles and you sigh, thankful the water hadn’t gone cold yet. You let Geto go before you as a sign of goodwill, hoping he wouldn’t take too long in the only bathroom you had available.

But when he came out in a towel and nothing else, you averted your eyes, praying to the higher powers that be in your head like a madwoman. It would be your fate that you were going to be stuck with him on your last night, but you quickly push those thoughts aside. Nothing would happen between the two of you. He was your friend’s brother-in-law.

You emerge from the shower and wrap a towel around your figure, padding into the master bedroom and digging through your suitcase for something suitable to wear.

And that’s when you hear it.

A pained groan.

Instantly, worry sets into your mind and you forget you’re in a towel. You follow the sound of the groan to the guest bedroom, and you peek into the room, hoping Geto wasn’t hurt.

He’s standing at the dresser, facing away from you with the towel at his feet. You realize he’s fully naked, his face screwed up in concentration with his eyes closed and his hand… his hand is… his hand is moving…

“Fuck, y/n…” he moans, and for a moment, you think you’re caught, but his eyes are still closed and you--

“Achoo!”

Your head bangs against the door, knocking it wide open, and Geto whips around, eyes wide; shocked, and slightly embarrassed at the sight of you in a towel. In his doorway. You stare at each other in silence, unsure of what to say to ease the tension in the room. You look down to his still erect cock and then back up at him, then you raise your chin slightly, arching a brow.

“Was I on my knees or were you fucking me?” you wonder, and Geto curses, charging up to you like a dog in heat. When he yanks you into the room and slams the door shut, you know you’re in for it, and you climb on the bed expectantly.

One hand goes to your face, holding it as he kisses you roughly, and the other yanks off the towel without hesitation. You don’t speak as he lays you across the bed and fondles your breasts, hoping that his mouth would find your sensitive nipples and stimulate you even further.

“Geto, holy shit,” you whine as his fingers reach between your legs and stroke your clit leisurely. His mouth finally drifts to your breasts and you arch your back slightly, pressing into his face with a sense of urgency. He slides one finger into you, his thumb still rubbing your most sensitive spot, and you groan low in your throat, urging him to do more.

He’s in no rush though, feasting on you like you were the main course and popping your nipples in and out of his mouth at will. The sensory overload is driving you insane, and you writhe beneath him, feeling the heady sensation of an orgasm building relentlessly.

“G-Geto, please…” When he hears your cries, he strokes your clit faster and inserts another finger, stretching you out easily. The orgasm crashes over you like a wave, and you convulse around his fingers violently, exhaling so loud that you can practically hear it echo throughout the beach house.

Before you can even come down fully, though, Suguru already has his cock ready to press into you. “Tell me you want this and I’ll give it to you,” he mutters, and you nod eagerly. “Use your words, ku`u lei,” he urges you, and you pant,

“Please, yes.”

The stretching that ensues is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. Your mouth opens into an “o” at the feeling, not out of pain, but out of an overabundance of stimulation. Every vein, every pulse, every twitch… you can feel it tenfold. He thrusts into you slowly, lips coming down to yours and kissing you deeply as he moves within you carefully. But before long, your legs relax against the bed, and Suguru takes that as a sign that you want more. He presses your legs back with his hands and grips the backs of your knees before leaning onto them, pressing his entire length into you.

“You like that?” he breathes in your ear, and all you can do is mewl at the sounds of his breathing as he fucks you stupid. He hums and kisses your cheek, the sounds of slapping skin picking up again. “Fuck, this is some good shit.” You exhale and inhale rapidly, unsure if your lack of breath is because you’re overstimulated or if you’re just really into the way he’s got you pinned underneath him, but whatever it is… he’s got you down bad.

The bed is creaking angrily and your legs are shaking, but it seems neither of you cares. Neither of you wants it to end. But a shudder rips through you, and Geto feels it in the spasms of your cunt around his cock.

“Tighten up like that again and I might just--” He’s cut off by you doing it again, and he grunts, his strokes becoming sloppy and rushed, almost as if he’s about to cum. “Shit,” he groans, and you feel the twitching of his cock inside of you as your orgasm peaks, pushing you to the edge again. You both lose your minds in the beach house, moaning loud enough to startle the birds outside as you cum.

_____________________________________________________________

“I take it the three-day vacation was great,” Nissa mentions before shoving a bite of pie in her mouth, standing over your kitchen island. It had been a few weeks since you’d been on the island, but every single night you were reminded of the afternoon you spent on your back.

“Oh, it was fun,” you reply, trying not to let her see your face as you put the pie in the fridge. “I had a great time.”

“Did you go surfing with my brother-in-law?”

“Yeah, that was cool.” You conveniently leave out that he fucked your brains out twice and then cooked you breakfast before the shuttle took you off to the airport, hoping she wouldn’t prod any further.

“Oh, did I tell you he’s in town for the next two weeks?” You spin around, facing her with a confused look.

“Oh?” Nissa breaks into a grin, wiggling her eyebrows.

“And he asked if he could see you at some point…” The doorbell rings at that moment, and you inhale deeply, your face twisting into shock.

“No, Nissa. You didn’t.”

“Anyways, I have to go! Company business calls, you know.” Nissa sashays to the front door of your townhome, then puts her hand on the knob. “Oh, I wonder who it could be?” You try to stop her from opening it, but she gets it open regardless, and you see Geto Suguru standing in the doorway, eyes flicking between the two of you.

“Hey, Nissa. Didn’t know you’d be over here…” he rubs the back of his neck, his black hair tied up behind his head. “Hey, y/n.”

You tug at the edges of your shirt dress, trying to smooth your untamed curls back behind your face. “Hey, Geto.”

“I was just leaving. You’re cool with being left alone with Geto for a bit, right, y/n?” Nissa doesn’t wait for your answer before leaving the townhome, getting into her car, waving, and then driving off.

You turn back to Geto, who is grinning slyly.

“Put your shoes on and come on. I want to take you out for lunch.”

“Lunch?”

“I mean unless you want me to skip straight to the part where I’m eating you for dessert, which is fine.” Your stomach leaps at the sound of that, and you grab your shoes by the door and your keys.

“Where are you taking me?” you ask, and he watches you lock the door before whispering in your ear,

“To heaven and back, if you’ll let me.”

_____________________________________________________________

TAGLIST: @jotazinha @brownskinnedgirll @leanne-tamashi @amaris9 @vabybizzle @missbonekitty

(IF I MISSED YOU, PLEASE TELL ME/ FORGIVE ME)

[just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot]

Soulmate September - Day 9

Day 9 - When you write something on your own skin it appears on your soulmate’s skin as well. (Pirates and Sirens AU)

Pairing(s): Romantic Dukeceit, Background Romantic Prinxiety

TWs: Swearing, murder mention, Remus being Remus, semi-detailed leg  and fin injury

–

Those who ran afoul of The Witch’s Serpent rarely lived to tell the tale. Many a foolish young sea-farer - far too inexperienced and overly cocky - had met their end at the hands of the galleon’s captain long before they could even hope to make their mark on the open seas. 

Captain Remus Gaspar was an impulsive, enigma of a man; capable of great feats of bravery and reckless daring do, alongside acts of cold blooded murder and remorseless torture inflicted upon those who crossed him. The sea choked on the bodies of his victims while he and his crew sipped the finest stolen wines with nary a hiccup. The naval officers of the mainland cowered in fear while Remus decimated their trade routes and sent their men to the depths to keep the fish company. In fact, only one man had faced the Captain and lived to see another day, but kept coming back for more. 

Commodore Logan Callows.

Remus would have admired him - in all senses - if not for his fanatic loyalty to the crown and it’s laws. Make no mistake, Remus very much wanted Logan’s head for a bow ornament with every fibre of his mortal being, but outside factors forbade Remus from fatally wounding the man. Namely, Logan’s first mate and closest friend was his brother-in-law, Virgil Giordano. Why did Roman’s soulmate have to be a man who could rival any opponent in a knife fight, despite being the sort to panic over the smallest change in weather conditions? Remus had no goddamn idea what fate was playing at, but he knew for certain that killing Logan would result in having to run from Virgil’s swift and immediate crusade for revenge. And if there’s one thing Remus Gaspar refused to do, it wold be spending his life in hiding.

Remus loved his brother dearly but all the familial loyalty in the world wouldn’t save him from Virgil’s wrath. He’d learned that much from his last encounter with Logan’s ship, The Inquisitor. Too many cocky remarks and attempts to stall while his men pillaged the lower decks of the ship in secret had earned him a close encounter with the business end of Virgil’s dagger. Naturally, the Captain had made things worse by uttering a rather salacious remark for which he was gifted a shiny new slash mark along his cheek.

“As a warning.”, his brother in law had hissed.

When forced to retreat, Remus had lamented the size of their haul at first. Not nearly enough sugar and spices as they’d been hoping for, but a small crate of flintlock pistols ripe for sale more than made up for the loss once they’d been discovered among the spoils. 

Thus we come to the present moment; Captain Remus, sat upon the docks with a bottle of expensive rum, staring out into the ocean blue. His men had been more than happy to give the Captain his space while they spent their time merrily drinking in the local tavern. Once he was sure he was alone, Remus removed his black leather bracer and rolled his white sleeve to stare at the message written upon it. The Captain had seen many an alphabet in his day - either scrawled upon the foreign exports stolen from trading vessels, or within his memories of home, being tutored alongside his twin as children - but Remus had never laid eyes upon the letters that adorned his skin in a shimmering golden cursive.

Naturally, ever since he’d first been written to, Remus had made an effort to search for the script, but the only ‘lead’ he had been given was an old woman selling wares a couple of ports prior who had raved on and on, claiming it to be the language of the sirens. He’d scoffed at the idea and decided it likely wasn’t worth trying to work out in the first place.

Remus had never been one to buy into this whole soulmates arrangement. Even the day Roman had shown him the violet cursive that had appeared like magic, Remus had rolled his eyes and sworn off taking such a thing seriously. After all, acknowledging that kind of thing brought about some rather unpleasant thoughts he would rather not think about. The fierce Captain liked to play remorseless, but in truth, Remus simply knew that life at sea demanded blood, and it was up to him whether it’d be the blood of his enemies, or his crew and himself. But that didn't stop his mind wandering into territories he wished it would stay out of.  How many men lay on the sandy shores of the depths with messages from soulmates unaware of their beloved’s fate? Did severing the connection hurt? Would fate allow those whom he’d unknowingly widowed to love again? Or had he doomed them to a life alone with no one to share such a connection with ever again?

… More rum would be needed it seemed. 

A clattering from the nearby rock shoal drew Remus out from his own mind with a couple of curses leaving the Captain as he knocked over the rum bottle and watched a good portion of it pour away before he could right it again. 

“Son of a bitch!”, he hissed, corking it and casting a glare towards the rockpool where the clattering had come from. Whoever had just cost him a good amount of rum was in for the brawl of their life. Remus threw on his coat and cursed his inebriated steps over the craggy rock face, swearing once again as he nearly rolled his ankle when his boot sunk into an unseen rockpool. He wrenched his leg free and crested the large flat rock in his way. 

The second his eyes could focus, Remus made a mental note to find that old woman on their round trip and apologise. 

Sprawled on it’s side nestled in the sand was an honest to god siren. The Captain was mesmerised by the creature; it’s long golden hair flowed over it’s scaled shoulders and torso, complimented by it’s black and yellow streaked fin-like ears that fluttered angrily each time it hissed. It wasn’t hard to work out why it was so angry. The creature’s left leg fin had been hooked in a rather nasty mess of fishing line and barbed hooks. The Captain had seen the technique used before to ensure a plentiful haul, who knew it could catch such a creature of legend so easily?

Perhaps Remus was succumbing to the creature’s charms, or maybe he was just too drunk already to think things through, but he found himself whistling to the creature to catch it’s attention. The way the creature’s panicked, beautiful eyes met his own momentarily knocked the wind from his chest as he wheezed out, “Need help?”

 It let out a strangled sound and scrambled backwards, only to let out a cry of pain as it’s injured leg dragged along the sand. The Captain dropped down from his rock perch and made his way over,

“Woah there! Unless you want that fin ripped out you should lemme unhook you-”

Despite the excruciating pain it must’ve been in, it still managed to hiss dangerously at Remus in a voice that felt like a million tiny hands groping around in his brain with every syllable,

“Stay back!”

Remus’ halted momentarily, the voice in his head warning him, “Come any closer and I won’t hesitate to eat you alive!”

In spite of any semblance of common sense, Remus impulsively shot a cocky grin the creature’s way, “Kinky!”

The siren wasn’t amused. 

It lunged forward to swipe at Remus, but the Captain caught it’s arm, making sure his grasp wasn’t painful, but firm.

“Watch it, you’re gonna take someone’s eye out! Or maybe these beauties will just gouge a couple chunks outta my face-” 

Remus’ rambling was cut short as he saw the siren’s expression shift from a ferocious snarl to one of immediate fear.

“Please don’t kill me-”, it murmured quietly, slapping it’s free hand over its mouth. It tried to change back to a more aggressive persona but Remus refused to be intimidated,

“The last thing I wanna do is hurt you. Now are you gonna be a good lil fishy and let me unhook you?” 

The siren scanned his face with those enchanting eyes once again, scrutinising every inch of Remus before it huffed and turned away from his gaze. The Captain took it as a sign of an indignant ‘do whatever you want’ and sat on the sand next to the siren, already beginning to carefully remove the hooks as best he could. Each wince the creature gave was met with an apology until Remus got the hang of it. 

“.....What’s your name?”, Remus mused to the surprised siren, “Might as well get to know each other, right?”

The creature mumbled something Remus couldn’t understand under it’s breath but relented reluctantly, “My name is Janus. At least, that's how you humans would pronounce it.” 

“It’s a beautiful name. Mine’s Remus.”, the Captain mumbled, too hyper focused on removing the hooks to see the way Janus’ cheeks flushed a dark ochre colour. Once the last hook had come loose, both of them let out a shared sigh of relief; Remus admired his job well done but grew concerned as Janus went to stand up. “Hey, you’re going to hurt yourself doing that.”, he warned, to which Janus scoffed, attempting to hide his emotions once more.

“I’ll be fine, Remus, I’ll heal quickly-”

“The salt water’s gonna sting like a bitch.”, Remus cut in.

Noting the wince Janus gave in response, he continued, “At least let me take you to my ship so I can bandage you up proper-“ 

“No!”, Janus declined fiercely, though he softened right after, letting Remus know it was likely a reflexive reaction, “I apologise. I… I’m rather wary of that kind of thing. Please understand.”

Remus sighed and stood up, taking off his coat to place it around Janus’ shoulders. The siren stiffened, though curiosity got the better of him and he softly touched the warm material. Janus inhaled and immediately was hit with the smell of the garment; a mix of body odour, dried blood, sea salt, and countless food-like smells. Not to mention the reek of old alcohol.

“In the name of Uranus, do you never clean this ornate rag!?”

Remus cackled, taking Janus’ hand to lead him to The Witch’s Serpent, noting that his fingers were webbed. Adorable. 

“Nope! Not since I hauled it off the guy I ran through to get it!”

Janus’ nose crinkled at that yet the siren kept following Remus towards his ship. With a proper glance in the light of the port, Janus piped up, “Oh. That’s an interesting coincidence.”

“What is?”, Remus questioned, making sure no one was aboard yet so he could lift a flustered Janus on deck despite the embarrassed glare he received from the siren.

“I’ve been following your ship for months.”, Janus elaborated, trying to regain his footing on the decks, “With the scraps and bodies you leave behind in your wake, I rarely have to bother hunting for new prey.”

Ah. Remus wasn’t sure what to make of that yet, simply shrugging, “Good to know you’ve been freeloading this whole time.”. 

Once more taking the hand of the siren, Remus led him towards the Captain’s Quarters; the room was just as gilded and ornate as the coat keeping Janus warm, with various trinkets, maps, paintings, and oddities given their own place within the room. Taking the opportunity to snoop around while Remus was rooting around in his desk drawer for bandages, Janus allowed his eyes to lead him on a journey around the room. A telescope, a star map, family photos, animal bones, even a goblet made from a man’s skull connected atop a metal stem, Janus had never seen so many interesting and macabre items. His interest peaked when his gaze landed on a beautiful topaz necklace resting on a book of fairytales.

Janus’ fingers traced the jewellery adoringly. It was rare for such trinkets to end up on the seafloor unless a storm had sent an unfortunate vessel to the depths. Not that Janus was ever lucky enough to get at the spoils; the boisterous captain may be sweet on him, for who knows what reason, but his own kind were never too fond of Janus’ standoffish nature and biting remarks. Of course, Janus didn’t care if he was lonely. He didn’t. Not at all. “You can have it if you want.”

Remus’ voice startled the siren who nearly tripped over the end of the Captain’s large coat. He chuckled and slowly lifted the necklace off the book to carefully let it loop over Janus’ neck.

“It suits you. Really brings out the scales.”, he complimented. Without giving Janus a second to process the act of kindness, Remus led him towards a wooden armchair in front of his desk. He guided Janus to sit down in the chair while Remus sat on the desk itself. To his side was a roll of bandages and a cloth, ‘for the blood trail’ he’d explained, gesturing to the droplets patterning their route. Janus watched the captain remove his bracers and sink to the floor to tend to his wounds. By the gentle way the Captain held and bandaged him, Janus assumed the man had sobered enough for the siren to pose the question,

“Why?”

Remus frowned, looking up to lock eyes with the siren, “Why what?”

“Why’re you...”, being so kind? Treating me so sweetly? Not trying to kill me to sell my skin? “.... treating me like this? You realise I threatened to eat you earlier, right?”

The Captain shrugged, his expression as blank as before, “Yeah. But you didn’t. And you got all fucked up in some moron’s fishing line, so it wasn’t like you posed much of a threat-”

“Exactly.”, Janus interrupted in frustrated confusion in his tone, “My voice is out of practice, if you wanted to, you could’ve slaughtered me for my skin. Any human would be a fool not to. But here you are, treating me like I’m worth more to you alive than dead. Adorning me in such… expensive trinkets.”

Remus’ brow furrowed at that. “For someone who threatened to eat me earlier, I figured you’d practice a little more self preservation.”

The siren scoffed, “I didn’t say I wanted to be slaughtered, I’m merely trying to work out why you wouldn’t take such a chance. Doesn’t your species enjoy monetary gain? Like I said, any human would be a fool to miss such an opportunity- oW!”

Janus fixed Remus a glare as the Captain flicked the abused tip of his leg fin, “First off, yeah, I like money but that's not what I do this shit for. Secondly, most humans think your kind aren’t even real. If I waltzed into town claiming I had siren skin to sell, I’d be run outta town as a conman. Besides, if I’m nice to you, I’ll have an ally in the water, and that's far more valuable to me.”

As he wrapped up the calf area for good, Remus grinned up at the siren, “You’re also really handsome, so that helps.”

Janus’ face crinkled in a flustered surprise, “Remus, I’m part fish-”

“You’re still handsome as fuck.”

“I’m not even using my human glamour-”

“And? You’re hot.”

“I’m literally covered in fish scales-!”

“Still hot!”

Janus couldn’t think of another rebuttal, so Remus counted it as a win for him. He rolled his sleeves to tackle the rest of the injuries when he caught Janus’ eyes tracing the fresh scar on his cheek.

“Wondering how I got this scar?”

“I may be interested.” came the coy reply.

Remus smirked, “You could call it a gift from my brother-in-law. I got a little too up close and personal with his best friend and found up with this beauty. It’s a shame, said bestie’s pretty fun but he’s the biggest pain in my ass since this one time I ate some bad eels-”

“That’s charming,”, Janus interrupted in disgust, “Why don’t you simply dispatch this ‘bestie’ and be done with him?”

“Can’t. If I did that, Virge-”

“Who?”

“My brother-in-law.”

“Ah. Continue.”

“Virge would hunt me down to the ends of the Earth and the last thing I wanna do is trade away my freedom to do whatever the fuck I want.”, he averted his gaze to Janus’ leg and kept bandaging it; whoever had put that line into the ocean had no idea the damage it’d caused to such a beautiful creature. “Besides, if I hurt Virge like that, my brother Roman would be miserable. Even if he probably hates me, some dumb bitch part of me really doesn’t want him to feel like shit just ‘cause I went and upset his soulmate.”

Janus scoffed quietly. It lacked the venom he no doubt intended it to have but the disdain was enough to draw the Captain’s attention. “You humans are far too sentimental. My kind have no qualms treating even close family like scum if we so desire. Even our soulmates it would seem..”

Remus caught the darting glance Janus sent towards his scaled wrist, noting the sigh he suppressed. “.... They’re a damn fool to not want you.”, the Captain murmured thoughtfully as he finally finished the upper shin bandaging. He wiped his brow with the heel of his palm but stopped as he felt smoothe fingers wrap around his wrist. His confusion was answered as the siren bore holes into the sliver of writing on his arm with those mesmerising eyes.

“You’re not the only one having soulmate trouble,”, Remus began answering, “Never really cared much for this shit, but now I got a message, I can’t make heads or tails of it-”

“Help me. I need you.”

Remus locked eyes with Janus, the siren’s own eyes wide with realisation and looking ready to bubble with tears, “That's what it says. It’s in Aquan. I wrote that to my soulmate while I was feeling…. rather vulnerable.”

Unsure of how to react to this turn of events, Remus stood and sat on his desk once more. He was too stunned to reply at first. A million questions swelled and crashed upon the shores of his brain, all fighting to be asked, but Janus beat him to the punch.

“Why did you never write back?”, the hurt in his voice stabbed at the Captain’s heart, “I mean, even if you couldn’t understand me, why didn’t you just...”

Remus wasn’t sure himself. No, that was a lie. He simply never fathomed that the message had been a cry for help. 

“I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking.”, he began, looking to Janus - no, his soulmate, and asking in return, “What happened?”

Janus sucked in a breath through his teeth, “.... It was a moment of weakness but….. My family had cast me out. Not that it was all too surprising, nor could I stand most of them anyway, but… being left alone to wander by yourself is a rather terrifying thought no matter the situation. I’d reached my breaking point. I felt like I’d been abandoned by my kin entirely. I thought perhaps my soulmate would be there for me. I never imagined you were human.”

“Makes sense. I’m sorry your family sucks ass.”. Eloquent as always. But hey, the snicker that got from the siren was worth it in Remus’ eyes. “And I’m sorry I didn’t write back. But I guess it’s good we finally crossed paths.”

Remus gestured for Janus to join him on the desk, to which the siren accepted the offer, being careful not to catch the coat he was still adorned in on anything on the way up. With his soulmate seated by his side, Remus wrapped an arm around the siren and held him close. Janus gave a lop-sided, fond smile, leaning into the act of comfort and gently resting a hand on Remus’ chest.

“What now then, my Captain?”, Janus’ voice was as soft and sweet as a ripe peach. Remus knew it’d require a lot of explanation where his crew was concerned, but he wasn’t about to let Janus slip away from him. He pressed a kiss to the siren’s temple, relishing the blush that spread over Janus’ cheeks. With a grin, Remus cackled,

“Simple, we make good on this alone time we’ve got ‘til my crew get back!”

--

Sorry this one’s so late TTvTT I miight need some time to finish days 10 and up, but I’ll get things written asap. @tsshipmonth2020

Taglist: @somehow-i-got-an-account @cateye-glasses @fandomsofrandom 

[rodeoxqueen]

Ever since I got this idea I haven't been able to stop thinking about Dante being a stripper cowboy 😳😳 Maybe smol shy S/O was dragged by her friends into a strip club when she caught the attention the attention of a certain red devil? 👀🌹 I have a mighty need for some Dante erotica, I'm sorry 😅

Howdy Howdy,

Partner, there’s no need to apologize. If anything, I’m sorry this request was sitting in my inbox for more than a week. I was watching as many male stripper movies as I could find to make this accurate. Here’s a fully written work to make up for the wait. 

Part II is in the making, I couldn’t fit all that raunchiness into one chapter. For my male and gender-neutral readers, I’ll do my best to write inclusive installments that make you feel sexy and well-loved by this stripper cowboy. All readers deserve a lap dance.

Yours,

Rodeo 

Can You Touch This?-Cowboy!Stripper! Dante/Reader-(PART I)(AFAB! READER)

Tags/Warnings: 18+, AFAB! Reader, Stripper!AU, Magic Mike!Au, Erotica, Minors Do Not Try It.

Read It On AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28256070/chapters/69242487

You were never one for large crowds, alcohol, loud music, and nudity. So what a mess you were in, your friends dragging you into a strip club. 

It wasn’t your fault, they promised you were all going for a quiet dinner at your favorite restaurant. No loud noises, no crowds, and especially, you didn’t even know why you had to specify, no naked guys!  That’s what happened at first. You went and blew out your candles on your cake at a nice place, but then things got weird. Your friends had got you thoughtful gifts, except one of them who promised to give it to you after another “surprise.”

They practically herded you to their car, blindfolding and ear-muffing you while giggling. After driving in some unfamiliar directions, you were pulled into a strange building. 

So when you couldn’t hear your own thoughts due to the overbearing bass in the room you were in, you realized you should’ve known better. The blindfold and earmuffs were taken off and you opened your eyes to a neon-lit room with the most hard-cut abs right in your face. 

“A strip club?! W-why would you think I’d want to go to a strip club?” 

“Okay, first of all (Y/N). It’s a male strip club. Second, come on! I know you want to touch some diamond abs!” One of your friends exclaimed as they threw bills at one very tan and very oiled up man named Diego. The box from before landed on your lap, and you unwrapped it to find a giant stack of dollar bills. 

“Now stuff them bills down some hottie’s pants!” 

The orange thong-wearing male with the most defined quads you had ever glanced at winked at your friend and opted to dance on someone else. Clutching your drink, you swallowed thickly as other males who clearly went to the gym every other hour thrust their hips proactively at you. 

Your friends had called ahead and bought the lot of you a table to the stage, much to your chagrin. 

Luckily, your ability to disappear in a room, with your meek personality and small stature, came in handy in these situations. The tall and buff guys your friends screamed over seemed to prefer the company of the more extroverted and thirsty. While other tables farther from the stage had easy contact with the not-themed strippers, you were all confronted with the stage floor dancers. 

“My god, how many themes do these guys dress in?” You squeaked as an entertainer dressed like James Bond (minus the clothes except for the bowtie and gun holster) ground on the stage floor. 

“Not enough! Now make it rain, (Y/N).” Another friend demanded as she took another shot. 

You made a noise as your hand was forcibly placed onto an eight-pack. You quickly threw a wad of bills at the man and ran off to the bar. 

“I gotta go!” You panicked, speed-walking to the bar in your heels. Stomach quivering, you put a few bills down and asked for a stronger drink. Maybe you could pass out on the table and your friends would feel bad and take you home. 

You sighed as you watched your friends have the time of their lives, although they noted your absence. 

“First time?” The bartender asked, sliding your fruity drink to you. You fiddled with the napkin. A woman posed in the corner with the logo “Devil May Cry” to the side of her, all lined in neon pink. 

“Oh!... Yeah, it is.” You mumbled shyly. You blushed at his blue-eyed stare. Luckily, he wore a collared white shirt so you could look at him without bleeding out of your nose. He was very handsome, with rugged features and slight facial hair. His stark white hair shined even in the dim lighting. 

“Ah, could tell. Watched you get dragged in here.” He chuckled. 

“I-I was tricked, first of all!” You exclaimed, tucking some hair behind your ear. 

“It’s alright. Your next rounds on me if you stay a lil longer.” He winked, wiping a glass. A few other people came and went, requesting all sorts of raunchy-titled drinks. Despite that, he leaned on the table where you sat, making idle conversation. 

“I’m Dante.” 

“Nice to meet you, Dante. I’m (Y/N).” You impulsively stuck your hand out to shake and stilled at his strong and warm grip.

He whistled. 

“Nice name for a nice lady. It’s your birthday right?” You nodded. 

“What did you wish for?” 

“Peace and quiet.” He laughed at that, gesturing to your friends who screamed and clapped at a dark-skinned stripper who ripped off his pants. 

“With those friends?” He chuckled. 

“They’re a lot more restrained. This is an exception.” You whined. 

The conversation grew longer. You learned that Dante worked here with his twin brother Vergil. He loved pizza and strawberry ice cream, along with nice motorcycles. A total manly man, if you asked yourself. 

You found a safe space talking to him since you didn’t have to look at nude guys with your back turned. 

You were hoping to talk the night away until a similarly white-haired male with a serious glare rounded the corner. 

Swiping back a few stray hairs, the esteemed brother Vergil knocked the smile off his twin’s face. 

“You fool! Your shift has been over for some time now.” He snapped. Dante rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah, this is old douchebag.” You giggled at his comment, quickly stopping when meeting eyes with the frigid twin. 

“Have you been speaking ill of me? I will-”  Dante threw a towel at his brother’s face before leaving the bartending station. By leaving, he jumped over the counter. 

“Hey, (Y/N), nice talking to you. I’ll see you later.” The white-haired man left to the employee’s room. 

“Alright-” You muttered. You’d sit, but Vergil’s cold glare prompted you to leave and rejoin your friends. 

“Where were you? Chatting up the bartender?” 

“Look at you. Being social in a strip club.” They teased. 

After a few more dancers, you couldn’t help but miss the blue-eyed bartender with his quips and casual flirtiness. 

Suddenly, the music and lights went off. The crowd stirred. Your friend grabbed your arm. 

“Oh girl they’re gonna need a mop after this.” 

“Ew!” You cried out. Your friends sang that one horribly sexual song from the radio. Something about parking a truck in a garage and about wet-

A shirtless DJ grabbed the mic. 

“And now, for our next entertainer, we have the Legendary Lady Killer. Hold onto your panties and your wedding rings, you’re all in for the ride of your life.” 

 The lights were turned back on from back to front. On stage, stood a muscular man with a cowboy hat and shawl. His legs were perfectly framed by black leather chaps and boots. You turned as red as his shawl as you could see his formidable bulge from yards across. 

His spurs clinked on the floor as people began to cheer at his physique. Your jaw dropped in shock. 

White hair. 

“Ladies, I got some questions for y’all.” He drawled, lowering his hat. 

“Yes! I’m single!” Someone yelled from the back. He chuckled as others screamed with agreement. 

“That’s nice ma’am. But really, I got three questions.” He made his way down the stage, his shadow covering your table. 

He palmed his chest and abs, showing white chest hairs and slicked down muscles. 

“Can you touch this?” Everyone screamed for yes. He tutted. 

“No, no, no.” He waggled his finger. He spun and exposed his lush tush. He was packing it front and back and you blushed while putting your face in your hands. 

His hands groped his own butt. Even with his giant hands, he still had more ass to spare. 

“Can you touch this?” The screams grew louder. He waggled his finger again, wiggling his butt. 

“No, no, no.” The crowd awed. He turned back around, a cocky grin on his face. 

“Now, ladies.” He pointed to the crowd. 

His palms groped the leather that concealed his huge package. 

“Can you touch this?” Your friend threw a wad of cash at him, hitting him in the nipple. He stood unflinching. 

“No, no, no.” He drew out each word. 

“These are my laws.” Putting his hands on his hips, he rocked left to right, clicking his spurs. 

“But I see a hell of a lot of lawbreakers here tonight.” 

He shifted to walk around the chair placed behind him. He sat on it backward, legs spread to place his groin in the spotlight. 

“And I don’t see a cop in sight.”  He pointed at the DJ. 

“Hit it!” Music blaring, he did his number. And boy, was the DJ right to warn you. Dante practically made sweet love to the chair, flipping his head back. 

Hips circling and then pistoning the air, sweat trailed down his pecs. 

You ended up throwing a few bills, hoping to avoid eye contact. It failed as he slid to his knees to the edge of the stage and crawled off the ledge onto your table. Like a preying tiger, he made his way over to you. 

Thank god you had health insurance, your blood pressure was going off the charts. 

Your friends lost their heads, throwing bills and screaming like banshees. But he wasn’t interested in them. His eyes preyed after your own, baby blues on an absolute beast. 

“Wanna save a horse and ride a cowboy, pretty girl?” He purred as he traced your jaw. Your skin jumped as you internally imploded. This was was too sensual and people were watching, for goodness sake! 

“(Y/N), if you don’t agree I will cancel your Barnes and Noble membership.” Your friend threatened. 

“Come on, spare this outlaw some sugar?” You didn’t have a moment to think. Dante threw his hat on your head and carried you onto the table and to the stage. 

“Oh my god! Oh my god!” You shrieked. 

He ran hot. So hot. Your skin burned at contact with him, pressed up against his chest as he stood you in front of the chair he practically humped. 

“Take a seat, lil lady.” You blushed at his sensual persona, not sure where the kind bartender and the suave cowboy started and ended. 

Obediently, you turned the chair around and sat with your ankles crossed. Dante tutted in disapproval. 

His hands lingered by your legs.

“May I?” He asked. You shook your head slowly, feeling his callused hands on your thighs. He firmly spread your legs and stood over you on the chair. 

As if that wasn’t enough, his arm muscles bulged and twitched as he ripped off his leather chaps. He ripped the chaps. There were no zippers or velcro straps. That was all him! 

Your face a hair’s width from his abs, he gently took your hands and traced his pecs with them. He growled and winked at you. 

Despite the one in a million situation you were in, you shrank at the many peering eyes of the other women and bar patrons. Your anxiety was seen by Dante, who tilted your head up. 

“Hey, it’s alright. Just focus on me. If you’re nervous, just give me a purple nurple or something, alright?” You laughed at his idea of a safe word and nodded. 

“Okay, Dante.” 

And like that, it was like you pulled a trigger. Dante grinded on your form and explored his own peak-conditioned skin with your own hands. 

You gasped as he led your hands down his front to his leather shorts. You couldn’t stop looking with widened eyes at his crotch. You had read erotica before, describing the male member in the throes of passion, yet this was the first time you had really been this close to anything like those erotic novels. 

It was obscene! Why did it seem to get larger? How was he allowed to carry that thing around without a license?! 

“Hey, eyes up here.” He teased as you snapped your head up. 

“O-oh! Sorry.” You whispered. Your blood had rushed to your head and you had grown deaf to your friends’ yells of validation. 

“Grab him by the buns!” One of your friends yelled. Dante turned around to make eye contact with her. 

With a grin, he slid your hands to the back. What he didn’t expect was you to squeeze. 

“Whoa now, kitty.” He purred. You gave a watery smile. 

Suddenly, a water bottle was thrown at his head. With lightning reflexes, he caught it after it bounced off of him. 

“Hey! Stage times’ over, you fucking show pony.” A short-haired woman with mismatching eyes called out. Dante scoffed. 

“Just givin’ a nice lady some lovin’.” He argued. 

“No, get off the stage, Dante.” 

“Five more minutes?” 

“NOW.” He sighed. Getting off of your lap, he kissed your hand that was resting on his thigh. Lord, if you died right now, that’d be fine. 

“Glad to have this dance.” He flirted. 

“Y-you too.” Taking your hand, he took you for another surprise and swept you off your feet. You squeaked as he handed you to another dancer on the ground. The club-goers cheered as dancers arrived, dressed like businessmen with briefcases. 

You were promptly seated, head dizzy from everything that just happened. You watched as he took his leave as if he didn’t just cause you to get feverish from how hot he was. Your friend hugged you. 

“Nice work! You were so lucky!” Another friend plucked the hat off your head. 

“Ah! He left his hat!”  You exclaimed as you took it from her hands. 

“A souvenir.” 

For the rest of the night, you held onto the hat and traced the red stitching. You never saw Dante for the rest of the night, his brother in charge of the bar service. 

Finally, before the last round of dancers, you were tapped on the shoulder. You found yourself staring into much harsher blue eyes. 

One of your friends threw money at him, which he growled at. 

“I am not an entertainer. Well, not right now.” He explained. He handed you a drink with a napkin on the bottom. 

“My buffoon of a brother said to keep the hat. Although, I’m not sure why you would.”

“I-”

“The drink is on the house. Good evening with you all.” 

 He walked off, and you took your drink. You realized it was the same one you ordered when you got to the bar. 

“Hey girlie, take a look.” A well-manicured nail pointed to the napkin. You saw in red pen an arrow pointed to the folded corner. 

You shakily opened it to reveal a series of numbers and words, along with a card that flitted onto the table. 

Tonight was fun, wanna do it again? The card’s for a private dance, just call and ask for Dante Sparda. No crowds, only you and me. No Lady barking up my tree for appreciating beauty either-DS 

A little heart with an arrow through its center was scrawled in a corner. You picked up the laminated card and saw it was for a free private dance. Your heart beat out of your chest. 

Your friends laughed as you immediately stuck it in your purse, along with the note. The club closed and you were all ushered out. The night was pitch black when you emerged from the debauchery that was the Devil May Cry strip club. 

As your other wasted companions were stuffed into the car, you sat shotgun to the sober and designated driver. 

You were silent the car ride home, laying your head against the window. You thought about that white-haired flirt’s remarks and how gentle he was to you.

Waving and embracing your wonderful friends, you left for your apartment with all your gifts. However, the little slips of paper in your purse weighed the heaviest on your mind. 

High heels in your hand, you climbed up the stairs home. 

After closing the door, you slid down the wall and let out a pleased sigh. 

“Best birthday ever!” You said to no one in particular. 

[girlmeetsliv3]

Lilies of the Valley II

A/B/O!BTS x Reader

Flowers can have different meanings depending on the flower shape, color, and method in which they are presented. Lilies are my favorite for such a simple flower can have so many distinct meanings.

Chapter Two: Tears of the Virgin Mary

   “In Victorian times, lily of the valley meant a “return to happiness.” In Christian legend, Eve's tears as she was expelled from the Garden of Eden turned into lily of the valley.”

Release Date: 05/22/20 @ 7 pm

previously ~ next

           YN was beginning to wonder if all Jungkook had in his closet were suits, or if that was a part of the pack uniform. It wasn’t even ten minutes after YN finished speaking to him, that the alpha stormed in threatening to tear the place down, by his side a lean figure with styled blonde hair that she recognized as the infamous Park Jimin. I should stop referring to them by their maiden names. The second Jungkook saw YN he rushed towards her, hands gripping the bars tightly. “Are you hurt? Are you okay?” Jimin stood off to the side, watching their interaction. As much as YN disliked them, at least they’d come to the rescue.

           “Thank you for coming.”

Jungkook nodded quickly, his eyes roamed every bit of her body frantically as if to make sure she was alright. "We'll see to it that the charges against you are dropped," Jimin spoke, he sent a polite smile YN's way. The beta had a calming effect on YN because if he was here Jungkook would restrain himself - theoretically of course. The guard by the door seemed stumped, "no charges are being pressed on either of them." This caught both Jimin and Jungkook's attention as they turned toward the cop. Before either of them could say anything Rosé finally spoke, truly exasperated.

           “So you were simply going to send us to the boarding house with no reason?!”

           YN swore under her breath. Jungkook however flew into a rampage, heading straight for the cop. Thankfully Jimin stepped in, holding Jungkook back by his hand. “Go get your superior right now.” The tone in which Jimin spoke was far more terrifying than the look in Jungkook’s eyes. The guard nodded and hastily walked away.

“Fucking genderists.” YN heard Jimin mutter under his breath, he pulled Jungkook towards him and leaned into his chest. “Call Hobi, he’ll know what to do.” Jungkook nodded and climbed up the stairs, but not before sending YN a small smile. If it was meant to be comforting it did the opposite. YN sighed, leaning back against the wall before casting a glance at Rosé. Her eyes were filled with questions that YN didn’t know how to answer; she couldn’t even begin to try. Rosé was bound to misunderstand like everyone else or worse - pity her - YN couldn’t lose her only friend too.

   "I'm sorry you had to be here for so long," Jimin was now by the cell door, he reached into his pocket and pulled out her belongings. "I believe these are yours." They'd been confiscated when the two of them had been imprisoned. YN stepped forward, thanking him as she reached for her things. Their hands brushed and YN was amazed by how soft they still were. Jimin had always been soft with her, understanding even if she was nothing but cold to them. Something flashed in his eyes but it happened so quickly YN missed it. Minutes later, Jungkook came back downstairs followed by officer Hwang. The man looked smug, as he took in the situation.

   “See I knew you had an alpha. No need to lie.”

    YN would've ripped his throat out right there and then if she wasn't sure Jungkook would do it for her. Instead the young alpha marched towards Jimin, lips turned down into a scowl. "They won't let them leave, not both of them." At this Jimin frowned. YN saw Rosé visibly tense when the officer got near her cell, "Your family has been called, your brother is on his way to pick you up." For some reason, Rosé's eyes filled with panic. YN wanted to question her on it, but Hwang turned to her instead.

    "Unfortunately you're unregistered so you'll be taken to the boarding house after all." YN felt faint as if all the blood was being drained from her body. It was when she swayed that Rosé rushed to her side trying to reach her through the bars. "You've got to be kidding me?! It's a partial bond, she doesn't have to be registered." Jimin was now screaming at Hwang, who seemed to enjoy having riled the beta up. Hwang leaned forward as if to mock the height difference between Jimin and him. Immediately Jungkook stepped forward, a low warning growl emitting from the center of his chest.

    "I don't make the rules. You can either register her or she'll be taken away. The choice is yours."

     The choice was theirs because in the society in which they lived in YN would never have a choice. She stood to lose too much if they took her away, but she stood to lose much more if she accepted. YN wouldn't simply be registered as Jungkook's omega - he wasn't lead alpha, it wasn't his pack. She would become a pack omega forced to uproot her life and abide by the rules established by her mates. It wouldn't simply be under society's rules that she'd be mated but under the eyes of the law. There would be no escape, not unless another person was willing to be her mate and even then, it would be immensely looked down upon if it was even allowed.

     Rosé reached through the bars and placed a hand on YN’s cheek, caressing her softly. As if trying to give her strength. The look she sent her was hopeful as if to say things will get better. YN wasn’t sure they would. Her whole life had been one unfortunate event after the other ever since presenting, this would surely be the same. Still, at least there was hope if she was claimed. The boarding house only meant certain death, either to her spirit or her physical self.

    “We’ll register her.”

    “You do know what that entails don’t you?”

     “Don’t treat us like fools or you can kiss your career goodbye.” Jungkook was entirely in Hwang’s face, but the older man only laughed.

     “Whatever you say boy.” The officer turned once again towards YN, sending her a sly wink that had chills crawling up her body. “Good luck with this one, once his rut rolls around.”

   They had waited until Rosé's family picked her up, though YN could see hesitance in her friend's eyes she quickly jumped into her brother's car and sped away. YN had originally planned to ask for a ride back to her place, but it seemed that she was now stuck with the two men. It was Jimin who took the initiative to speak, "We'll give you a ride back to your place." Jungkook looked like he was about to say something, but Jimin shot him a look and the boy quickly became quiet. It seemed that even though Jungkook was the supposed 'dominant' one, his hyungs held full reign, which wouldn't stray too far from what she remembered.

    The ride was awkward and tense, to say the least, YN thought the two men would ride shotgun while she sat alone in the back. When the driver pulled up to the curb, she realized that was not to be the case. It was a thirty-minute drive from where she lived to the police station, fifteen if one sped but it seemed the driver was taking his time. Likely ordered to do so by his patrons.

   "How have you been YN?" Jimin asked, turning in his seat to look at her properly. Jungkook was seated beside him, glancing out the window. YN couldn't help but feel Jimin had noticed how tense she was around the alpha, so he'd done this to make her feel secure. Sadly his efforts were wasted, YN wouldn't feel safe even if there was an entire continent between her and the men. "I've been better." That was as polite a response as she could offer up. Jimin seemed to take it, smiling at her. "We've been looking for you. We wanted to meet and discuss things, but you moved away and didn't tell anyone." YN didn't see what they had to discuss, she'd long forgiving the others for the part in which they played. She was trying to forgive Jungkook, even if she wasn't there yet. But YN could never forget. That moment would forever be imprinted in her memory and body until she eventually died.

   "I just don't see what there is to talk about." She folded her hands in her lap, glaring down at them. "What's done is done." Jungkook scoffed but didn't say anything else.

   Jimin moved to lay his hand on top of hers, “We don’t see it that way. You’re a part of us. You always will be.” Yeah right.

   YN withdrew her hands from under his, crossing her arms though she noted Jimin’s hand remained placed on her lap. “Thank you for helping me and my friend out back there. You didn’t have to and I appreciate that.”

    “Of course, we’d help you. You’re our -”

    YN noticed they were near her apartment and quickly cut him off, “Thank you for the ride. I’ll contact you if anything else happens.”

    Before she could jump out of the moving vehicle Jungkook said something that made her freeze, “You live in this dump?” Jimin sent a glare his way, but the words had already tumbled out of his mouth.

    "It's the only place I can afford to live. It's the only place I can live in." Her tone was sharp, barely above a whisper as she wondered how much more she would have to endure.

     "Right," the car had finally pulled up right in front of her apartment. "See you soon." YN exited the car, slamming the door. She practically crawled up the stairs, dreading having to have lost so much potential sleep. Her senses become hyper-aware when YN notices her front door is open, clearly hearing sounds coming from inside. Remembering that someone had broken into Rose's and with Jungkook's snarky remark at the forefront of her head, she prepared herself for whoever or whatever was inside.

           Rosé stood in the middle of her apartment with all her belongings, the second her eyes met YN she broke down. "I'm sorry your landladies let me in." YN rushed to embrace her in a hug, perplexed at everything that was occurring. "Ro, please tell me what's wrong. I know that something is and I can't stand seeing you like this." Gently, YN pulled Rosé towards her bed arranging all the pillows and blankets to resemble a nest. YN wasn't big on cuddling, but she knew her best friend needed her. It took hours for Rosé to finally calm down, but now it was YN who was even more anxious. Her friend was never like this. Rosé was the bubbly of the two, the sunshine that accompanied her clouds.

           “What’s wrong?”

           “My brother’s alpha propositioned me.” Her tone was so dull and lifeless; resigned.

           “What? Why would he do that?” YN had never met Rosé’s family, but she’d heard enough from Rosé herself when her brother finally found a mate. ‘He’s a good man. A kind one.’

           It’s always the nice ones. Rosé sniffled, “He didn’t even offer to mate. He simply told my brother that I was getting too old and that it was his responsibility to take care of me. My brother thinks it’s because he can’t have pups.”

           “I’m so sorry Ro.” YN hugged her tightly, rocking her gently. “That guy is an asshole and I’m sorry your family ever had to cross paths with him.”

           “T-they said,” sobs were threatening to leak again but Rosé bit her lip to prevent them from coming out. “I-if I don’t t-then they won’t support me anymore.” That’s why she was here with all of her stuff. Rosé had come from a family of Omega’s, being born to a single mother and then placed into the foster system wasn’t easy. It was her older brother who’d she bonded most with and it was he who helped her maintain herself.

           “It’s alright, babe. You can stay with me, we’ll figure it out.”

         YN would have to move, find somewhere cheaper where she could maintain both of them. Rosé's job couldn't cover rent and YN couldn't possibly ask her parents for more money. The issue was finding a new place: very few places in Seoul rented to unmated omegas, even fewer to multiple. They would all just direct them to the boarding house and if they tried to hide, then they'd be arrested. YN had already seen this morning that the system was set up against her, not that she didn't know that already.

           There was a knock at the door and YN had to pry herself away from Rosé promising to be back soon.

           There stood her two landladies outside the door. Well fuck. “Hi, how can I help you?” YN stepped outside and tried to close the door as much as possible. “Oh we just came to check up on your friend, YN. She looked wrecked.” Though her landladies were nice, they weren’t once to be trifled with. Both of them were sticklers for rules and YN could already guess why they were here. “I’m sorry her apartment was broken into while she was sleeping and her families out of town.”

           “Oh what a shame.” Spoke the taller of the two, Min So, her brow raised as if she didn’t believe a word YN had just spoken.

          "Ah I heard something about that on the news. Terrible crime rates these days. Well anyhow there was something we wanted to talk about." Ivy's tone was always polite, bordering on being too nice as if it was all an act. Min So was the one who spoke now, YN wondered if they took turns speaking; the way twins sometimes do. "We wanted to remind you that your rental contract is almost up and that we don't rent to multiple omegas or mated ones." YN's eyebrows shot up at that statement. Wondering how exactly they'd found out so quickly, it was then that YN remembered that mates are public records.

From their faces YN knew that the jig was up. She was beginning to question what she'd done in her past life to merit such bad luck. YN felt like she was the protagonist of Shakespearean tragedy forced to undergo trials and tribulations until her inevitable death. Casting one last glance at the door behind her YN let out a breath she didn't know she was holding in, "That's exactly what I wished to speak with you about."

           “No, absolutely not. I’ll find a place to live.”

      YN groaned falling back on the sofa, she'd spent several minutes trying to make Rosé see reason. "It's fine Ro, it's not like I can even live here. I'll find someplace else and I refuse to let you go back out there knowing that predator is waiting for the perfect opportunity.” Finally her best friend relented, “but where will you go?” Rosé intertwined their hands together, she was big on skinship, having been raised as omega it was the only way she knew to express affection.

           “I’ll find a new place.”

           “With your mates?”

     It wasn't her fault, she didn't know. YN simply nodded, not wanting to add more stress onto her friend's plate. She would figure it out. She always did.

           “How long do you have to move out?”

           “Three days.”

           “Well then you better get packing.” It was said in a teasing tone, but that didn’t stop the dread from setting in. “I can start on dinner while you call your mates, yeah?” Yeah like that’ll be easy.

      Getting in touch with them wasn't difficult, she had Jungkook's number in her phone and a business card with their work on it. It was building up the strength to make that call that took her the entirety of the day and a bit of the morning. Jungkook had been extremely pleased when she'd called, though it fizzled out a bit when she asked to speak with Jimin - privately. Still the alpha obliged, Jimin seemed surprised but his tone implied that it was rather how soon she'd called rather than that she had contacted them at all.

       Now YN sat near the front of a cafe, facing the window waiting for two of them to arrive. She had asked, as cautiously as she could, that Jungkook was not present or any other alpha's for that matter. Jimin obliged, saying he understood her hesitance and that he wanted her to feel as comfortable as possible around them. That would likely never happen. Truly she didn't know who he would show up with and it worried her. She knew most of them from school, having all attended the academy where elementary, middle, and high were each a few steps away from each other. However, they didn't know her at least not until the incident that created this mess.

         YN took a sip of her now watered down tea, hoping to calm herself down before she simply ran out of the cafe. From where she was seated YN saw a Bentley Bentayga pull up to the front of the building before the passenger doors opened from which Park Jimin and Min Yoongi stepped out. Their walk was full of swagger and it attracted the eyes of everyone around them. Even if Beta's had a muted scent there was a different allure to the two of them: something that made people want them even if they knew they could never have them. They faced forward when they walked, heads held high as if they had only ever seen the sky and that ahead - never the ground.

          Min Yoongi turned his head over so slightly and YN, fearing that he might look her way and their eyes would meet, looked down at her trembling hands. Here goes nothing. The little ring of the bell attached by the door announced their arrival. Shortly YN heard the scrapping of the chairs until Yoongi and Jimin were seated in front of her waiting.

          “Hello.” It was all she could muster, she forced her downcast eyes up and met their stifling gaze. YN nearly trembling in her chair.

         Jimin's lips turned upward, "You called?" There was something in his eyes, expectancy perhaps. Though YN didn't want to dwell on what he might be expecting. "Did you run into trouble?" It had been a while since she heard Yoongi speak, she'd forgotten how mellow yet rough his voice was. Back then it had been more high pitched too, but that was an expected change. Yoongi had his arms crossed but leaned forward ever so slightly. It made her uncomfortable. Having them so close, even in a public setting, made her uncomfortable. YN shook her head, she opened her mouth to talk but Jimin spoke before she could get a word out.

           “How’s your friend?”

           “Um, Rosé is good...kinda.” The look the two betas gave her was enough for her to launch into explaining the situation. After she was done, they both looked at each silently communicating with each other. “So...you need a place to stay?” Jimin questioned, repeating what she’d just said moments prior. YN nodded, “I know that you guys have a lot of connections, so I was wondering if you knew anyone who was renting or someone to room with.” YN knew it was unlikely but she had to try and they were her last hope.

    Yoongi shook his head, “That’s ridiculous. You’re staying with us.”

 Taglist will be in the comments! 

[mythiccheroacademia]

Forgive Me

Summary: It only seemed more prevalent, now more than ever, that people like him didn’t deserve people like you.

Word Count: 4.8k+ Words

Pairing: Natsuo x Reader (21+)

Warnings: blood, death, gang organization involvement, gun use, sexual content, explicit language, and angst

A/N: First, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY MAIN MAN NATSUO TODOROKI!! And I also want to say thank y’all so much for 2k followers! You make my heart ache. To celebrate, I wrote this self-indulgent mafia au fanfic that nobody asked for. I honestly just wanted to write Todorokis involved in organized crime. 

All the Japanese in here is from Google Translate. It most likely butchered it, so I’m sorry about that. I tried. 

Some things to mention: *Yakuza: Basically, the Japanese mafia  *Oyabun: The leader of the organization *Onna-Oyabun: The spouse of the leader. It really translates to the “wife.” I tried to keep things gender neutral, however, I couldn’t find a gender neutral term for this. Please forgive me!

Thank you for ridin with me, y’all! Enjoy this one, hotties ❤️   

Forgive Me

All Natsuo had ever wanted for you was normalcy. Call it wishful thinking—his siblings called it naivety. However, there was nothing more the young successor wished for than for you to have the life you deserved. One filled with love, laughter, and smiles. Not tears, blood, and bullets.

He wanted you to be able to come from work or class with a head full of things for the two of you to gossip about over dinner and ice cream. He wanted to be able to cancel his day and take you to that one amusement park you always talked about. He wanted the petty arguments about whose turn it was to do the dishes and whose brownie recipe was better.

Natsuo wanted that for you. Not this.

Your shared room suddenly felt cold and rigid as he stood by the doorway. The sight of your body curled into the sheets, hoping the mattress would swallow you up, made his heart ache. There was no movement except for the slow rise of your breathing as you stared at the wall next to the bed.

Natsuo’s grey eyes focused on the bandage patched to your ear and was brought back to the events prior. An event that had been the reason why he couldn’t have spent the evening in your arms.

[Earlier]

Since having been introduced into the Todoroki lifestyle, life had been hectic. You had been ripped away from your normalcy and propelled into the yakuza* game. It was seeped in cruelty, darkness, and evil that would make you spend nights shivering.

Ever since you had been engaged to Natsuo, your exposure only grew worse. Your fiancé would spend nights apologizing, but you’d only quiet him with a kiss and a small joke.

It wasn’t his fault. His older brother, Touya, was “deceased”. It was against tradition for Fuyumi to have it, and Shouto was too young. He would have to be the next Oyabun* and, despite his unwillingness, there was nothing anyone could do about it.

But that wasn’t something to dwell on. Especially today. Today, you had plans to go shopping with Fuyumi and Shouto and end the night with some well-deserved quality time with your husband-to-be. You had rarely seen anyone due to yakuza activity, so this was something you were looking forward to.

You smoothed down your outfit, adjusting your watch in the mirror. You gave yourself a nod, liking what you saw.

Natsuo came from around the corner, eyeing you with a glint you knew all too well. He apparently liked what he saw too.

“Hi,” he said, smiling into your kiss.

“Hey,” you grinned. You flattened the collar of his shirt where his tattoo peeked from his neck. “You look good.”

He was quick to respond. “You look better.”

“You flatter me,” you chuckled. “Did you pick where we’re eating for dinner later?”  

“I made reservations for the seafood restaurant you like so much. The one with the lights by the ocean.”

“Oooo with the parmesan crusted flounder and the stuffed oysters?”

He hummed a yes and laughed as you did a little dance expressing your excitement. You couldn’t wait to stuff your face. While being classy of course.

“What time?”

“6:30. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, that should give ‘Yumi, ShoSho, and I enough time to shop around.” You turned to the mirror to put some last-minute touches to your hair. “We still have to find an outfit for your mother’s event Friday. You know your brother’s a lowkey diva about that stuff so it’s gonna take hours.”

A sudden slap on your ass made you yelp and just as you were about to cuss him out, Natsuo captured your lips in a kiss that made your knees buckle. He slowly explored your mouth, committing every taste to memory. Your hands massaged the nape of his neck and it had him growling in your ear.

“Why don’t you skip the shopping today and we can start on dinner now?” he suggested, loving the moan he got from you as he sucked on your neck.

As much as you adored the offer, you weren’t going to pass up the chance to get out of the house. You’d been cooped up in there for too long. Not even his dick could get you out of this.

You pushed him off of you, laughing as he bit the air between you, trying to put his lips back on you.

“Nat—Natsuo. Stop it. I promised them I’d go shopping today, so no. Besides, I’m already running late. I was supposed to meet them at 1 and it’s 1:30.”

“But you just look so good, baby.” He managed to pull you flush against his chest, mischief in his eyes. You gave him a look when his hands went to go grab a handful of your ass. “I’m sure they won’t mind if you're just an hour more late,” he said, going back to lay claim to your lips.

If last night’s sex was a testament to anything, you’d be here for much longer than an hour. If you didn’t get your ass to the car, you’d be stuck at home and his siblings would have your head.

“Boy, if you don’t get off me, I’ll tell Fuyumi you’re keeping me hostage again. She’ll sick Shouto on you,” you threatened.

At the thought of his sister and brother’s nagging, he rolled his eyes and backed off. “Ugh, you’re such a killjoy. Fine, whatever.” You hummed in triumph and turned to walk away. Natsuo gave another hard slap to your backside again and you sent him back a glare that made him smirk.

“Natsu,” you warned.

“You better get in the car quick before I really decide to keep you here.”

“Keep it in your pants, horndog,” you bit.

“Keep that ass away and we won’t have problems,” he playfully retorted.

You smacked your teeth but hid the growing smile on your lips. That man would be the death of you.

…

Despite your wishes, you ended up being an hour late. Natsuo tried to play innocent underneath his siblings’ threats but stopped the act once they pointed out the growing hickey on your neck.

He was waved off, much to his chagrin, when he told the three of you to be wary of your surroundings and reminded you of the security guards that would be following close by. He finally left for his meeting with few choice words and a kiss promising his return.

Fuyumi grabbed your arm and gave you a smile that was contagious. “Now that Natsu stopped hogging you, we can finally hang out!” she cheered. “The outlet just opened up a few new stores we’ve been eyeing for a while now!”

Shouto nodded in agreement. “I’ve been waiting all week to use my father’s credit card.”

“Didn’t you buy a fur coat yesterday—”

“That’s besides the point.”

Once Shouto took your other arm, the three of you spent your time going from store to store. At first, the objective was to find outfits for the party Friday, however you three had become easily distracted with the sight of a smoothie stand.

A couple hours had gone by, and not much was done. Although you might have wasted time (and money) shopping at miscellaneous stores, neither one of you cared.

It had been so long since you laughed so freely. With Endeavor across the ocean, things were steadily heating up. Enemies took his leave as an open shot and the Todoroki siblings were obliged to reinforce why their family reigned supreme. Due to that, it seemed no one could go a day without stressing over something.

Between that and Natsuo’s near-obsessive mission to keep you safe and away from the details of the yakuza, you were forced to stay in the house twiddling your thumbs with constant security around you.

Feeling so useless drove you crazy. No matter how many times you tried to get your fiancé to let you help, he would always give you a firm no. Fuyumi and Shouto tried their best to keep you out of it as well. Even Dabi warned you about wanting something so dangerous.  

It was frustrating, but you tried to understand. Regardless, having the chance to hang out with your friends like old times was a saving grace and you’d enjoy it to its fullest.

Eventually, you three made it to the boutiques and clothing departments. Shouto had already gotten a suit tailored so it was left with you and Fuyumi.

Your soon-to-be sister-in-law found an extravagant gown that stole your breath. The crimson dress hugged her body in all the right places, accentuating the softness of her feminine figure and the coolness of her kind eyes. It was beautifully bold statement speaking to the fire within Fuyumi many seemed to miss. But no one would overlook that spirit with a dress like that. Her measurements were taken, and the dress was quickly swiped off the rack and sent to the tailor.

Your clothing didn’t come easy. Fuyumi was indecisive and Shouto was a harsh critic.

“Hmm, that one’s too much.”

“Nope, not enough.”

“Too loose.”

“Too tight.”

“No.”

“Hell no.”

“I’m pretty sure someone from the Nanu family wore that in 2016. Next.”

It had taken nearly an entire hour before the three of you found your outfit. Something that had caught your eye was soon being shimmied over your body. When you stepped out of the dressing room, you were relieved when Fuyumi nearly cried and Shouto’s bi-colored eyes twinkled with satisfaction. The material was comfortable on your body and the pigment made your skin color brilliantly glow. It moved and swayed like it was meant for you. It just felt right.

“That’s the one,” Shouto smiled.

“You think so?” you asked, checking over the detailing.

“You’re going to steal the show, as always, Y/N,” Fuyumi gushed. “The most beautiful Onna-Oyabun* the yakuza have seen this generation.”

At the mention of the word, you casted your eyes downward. “Right. I’m going to be the new Onna-Oyabun,” you sighed.

The two Todorokis caught the heaviness of your tone and looked at one another in sadness. They were privy to the burdens of this family and the titles that came along with it. Your reaction wasn’t abnormal, but the despondent gleam in your eyes was still hard to sit with.

“Y/N—”

The sound of Shouto’s phone cut off his words. As he listened to the quiet words from the other line, his eyes began to harden. The store clerk kept you busy, but Fuyumi noticed his sudden rigidness.

Her brother’s eyes flicked towards the door and she caught the sight of more their bodyguards surrounding the boutique, hands on their weapons.

There were a few more words said before Shouto spoke.

“Anata wa mōru o torikakonde imasu. Natsuo wa 5-bu de soto de aimasu.” (Keep the mall surrounded. Natsuo will meet us outside in five minutes.)

Fuyumi met her brother’s eyes once more and understood the situation.

“So, the seamstress said she’ll tighten around the waist and add more fabric to the end. It’ll be ready by tomorrow evening,” you said to them.

Shouto excused himself while Fuyumi walked towards you, a practiced smile on her lips.

“Perfect. Now let’s get you changed and out for your date. Natsuo will be here any minute.”

…

The car ride to the restaurant was filled with your rambling about the day and Natsuo’s usual teasing. When he got into the car after speaking with his siblings, he seemed very tense. So you were happy you were able to get him to relax. Work must’ve put him on edge, and you were determined to let the rest of your night come stress free.

When you got there, he helped you out of the car and you made your way to the door. You were surprised to see who was standing by the entrance.

“Dabi?”

“Hey there, doll,” he said behind an easy smirk. He kissed the back of your hand. “Still see you’re with this punk. Tragic.”

You tried to hide your giggle as Natsuo punched his brother’s shoulder.

“Back off, brick-face. Lookin’ like a burnt raisin.”

“You wound me,” Dabi faux gasped.

“What are you doing here?” you asked.

Although Dabi kept his eyes on you, he felt his brother’s stare on his face.

“Just doing some patrol. Heard you were coming around and couldn’t pass up the opportunity to say hi to my new favorite Todoroki,” he responded coolly.

You quirked your brow at that. “Did something happen?”

Dabi opened the door. “Nah, nothing you need to worry about. You just enjoy your dinner for me, yeah?”

Before you could say anything more, you felt the man behind you place his hand on your lower back and guide you into the restaurant. You didn’t miss the order he hissed to his brother before closing the door behind him.

You had to learn Japanese one of these days, damn it.

As you stood in line to be seated, you eyed your fiancé.

“I know something’s going on,” you spoke.

Natsuo didn’t even flinch. “What do you mean?”

“Why’s Dabi here?”

“You heard what he said. For patrol.”

“Patrol for what? He doesn’t just police the area for no reason.”

“It was just on some small case we’ve been working on. No biggie,” he shrugged.

You frowned at his play of innocence. You were getting kind of tired of this. “You know how much I hate being kept in the dark…”

“It’s nothing you have to concern yourself with, babe. I’ve got it handled.”

“Natsuo—”

“Y/N, please.”

You watched his shoulders sag a bit from the heavy sigh that left his mouth. If you hadn’t been watching, you would’ve missed the fatigue that flashed across his face. To see someone usually so upbeat look so tired made your chest ache.

You knew you were being pushy, but all the secrets were piling up and your curiosity was starting to become insatiable.

“I…I just want to help,” you softly admitted. “I don’t mean to be annoying.”

“You’re not being annoying,” he answered in a heartbeat. Natsuo pulled you close and kissed your temple, feeling comforted by your smell. “I know all these secrets drive you crazy, but I’m trying to protect you.”

You placed a hand on his cheek to which he placed a kiss to your palm. “And I want to lessen your burden. We’re in this together, baby. You don’t have to handle all of this alone anymore.”

“I know, sweetheart,” he whispered. He stared into your eyes for a moment before gently smiling down at your hopeful gaze. “How ‘bout this? We forget about all this yakuza stuff whiles we’re here, and as soon as we get home, I’ll fill you in on my meeting today. Sound fair?”

It wasn’t exactly what you wanted, but it was a step in the right direction. Besides, you could see how eager he was to forget about the topic. The focus of this night was about having fun, so you would drop it for now.

You pecked his lips and nodded in agreement. “Deal.”

“Bet.”

The hostess met you two just as you pulled away from one another. She led you to your table where you had a clear view of the beach behind the crystal glass. Your waitress, an older woman with a smile that felt safe, got you settled in.

“My name is Jane and I’ll be serving you today. May I get your drinks?”

Natsuo looked to you. “Wine?”

You made a thoughtful face. “Yeah. Sure. Something on the sweeter side.”

“Bring us Moet Chandon Dom Perignon. 2008.”

“Yes, sir,” she bowed before going to retrieve the drinks.

You frowned in confusion, the bran unknown to you. That was before your eyes scanned over the wine listing. You choked on your spit.

That bottle could pay rent.

Rich people were crazy.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. Something in my throat,” you coughed.

After the waitress brought your drinks and you placed your orders (you both ordered enough for eight but what’s new?), you and Natsuo spent your time talking and laughing.

It was like old times. He was the jokester, throwing out horrible pick-up lines with a terrible pun to match. You’d tease him, snickering when he’d whine about how sensitive he was.

You missed this. A lot.

Your previous grievances left your mind. Like he said, for now, you’d forget about the yakuza. The carefree smile on your fiancé’s face, the one that reminded of you of just how young he really was, was beautiful. He was only 23 and dealing with so much. You wanted this expression of freedom to remain for as long as possible.

“The ‘Saw’ series wasn’t even that scary. It was just really gross,” you said.

“Fair. But the one with the teeth was kinda scary. Saw 3 I think? I couldn’t sleep for like, five days,” Natsuo shivered.

“Okay, yeah. That one was…ew,” you agreed. “But remember ‘The Human Centipede’? Now that was some creepy shit. I couldn’t eat cereal for a month.”

Natsuo visibly paled, sticking his tongue out in disgust. “Nah for real, bro. I’ll never watch that shit again. I feel like it was some big, grotesque, sexual innuendo.”

You gave him a flat look.

“What the fuck, Natsu.”

“No, listen! Remember the part where they took the hammer and—"

“Your food, Mr. Todoroki and Mr/s. L/N,” Jane interrupted. A questioning look flashed across her face but you two just stifled your laughs.

The other waiters laughed as they stood behind her with the food in their hands.

You were eyeing the hell out of those oysters.

“Here we have the lobster bisque, the shrimp tacos, the stuffed oysters—”

“I’ll take that one, please!” you excitedly clapped.

“Excellent choice.”

“And you say I’m a child,” Natsuo snorted.

You threw a glare his way. “Little boy, if you don’t—”

And just as your day had been filled with laughter, the sound of one bullet tore through that illusion.

It was as if the world had stilled for a moment. Then, there was screaming and the onslaught of gunpower. There were so many men in dignified suits running in and out of the restaurant. You hadn’t even blinked before two waiters dropped to the ground, piled beneath the food they were holding.

Two shots rang near your table, and you felt a string of fresh blood paint the sides of your face and a burning sensation on your left ear. Two hands held the table and the back of your chair, body a shield from the bullets.

You slowly looked up and saw Jane’s bright blue eyes wide with surprise. There was a moment of silence as her bottom lip wavered, wanting to say something.

However, her last breath slipped through her lips as you watched the life dull in her cerulean irises.

That bullet was meant for you. That bullet was meant to kill you and instead…instead…

When she fell onto you, dead, that’s when you screamed.

At some point, Natsuo had gotten you into his arms. His body was ice cold as he used his quirk to protect you and carry you out. He was shouting orders and curses while trying to coax you out of your numbness. However, you couldn’t hear anything.

The stench of blood was strong. You saw how the bodies of innocent men, women, and children laid piled on the floor. They bled out; their lives taken from them before they even had the chance to think about it.

You closed your eyes when you saw blue and red flames lick the ground. You had seen enough.

Somehow, you had gotten outside and away from the warzone. Natsuo carried you into the car.

“Doraibu!” he thundered. (Drive!)

The driver took off with speed that made our backs hit the seats. Once he hit the main streets, miles away from the scene, Natsuo took his hand off the gun and quelled his quirk.

His phone lit up and it wasn’t long before he blew up at whoever was on the other end. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him use a tone so mean and angry. He roared into the phone, his words foreign to your ears. However, you couldn’t concentrate on that.

The shock of what just occurred struck your body numb. The ringing in your ears hadn’t stopped since the first bullet. You could still smell the blood and the bodies. Jane’s lifeless eyes would haunt you forever.

The same bullet that tore into her heart was meant for you. Whoever shot that, was aiming to kill. Kill you. But instead, Jane had taken that place. For what reason, you didn’t know. But she did.  

You didn’t know which one was worse.

Bile rose in the back of your throat and you let out a shaky breath.

You could do nothing else but hold your head.

Natsuo had gotten off the phone and looked over at you in silence. His grey eyes stormed with pain from the way your shoulders hunched over in grief.

He reached for you. “Y/N, sweetheart—”

You flinched away as his fingertips ghosted your skin.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you seethed.

He quickly withdrew his hands.

“Are…are you okay?” he slowly spoke.

The glare you gave him made him avert his eyes in anguish.

“Am I okay? You’re asking me if I’m okay!?”

“I just want to make sure you’re not hurt,” he thickly swallowed.

“Are you serious, Natsuo!? I just saw twenty people die in front of me and you’re asking if I’m okay!??”

Guilt drowned him, but you just couldn’t seem to care at the moment as rage took over your body.

“I asked you to tell me what was going on. I’ve been fucking begging you to keep me up to date so I can just be prepared for when things like this happen!”

“I know.”

“If I had just known someone was trying to take me out, I would’ve stayed the fuck home, but you wouldn’t tell me and now there’s people DEAD!!”

“I know. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“Fuck your sorry!” you roared. “Fuck you, Natsuo! Sorry won’t bring those people back!”

Your voice was beginning to grow hoarse but screaming felt good. It was the only thing that felt real even as it took you to hysteria.

“I know those bullets were meant for me! They wanted to—to—oh my God!” Your breathig grew erratic as it all dawned on you. “I’m supposed to be dead! They wanted to kill me! I can’t! I can’t do this!”

Natsuo felt his heart break with every sob that ripped from your mouth. He wanted so badly to hold you and take you away from all of this. However, he knew better.

For the entire car ride and throughout the time it took for the nurses to patch you up, you hadn’t allowed him to touch you. You even ignored him until he was forced to leave you to rest.

When he told you he loved you, it hurt like hell to see you wordlessly disappear behind the bedroom door. That pain was what later fueled him back to the scene of the crime and into doing things to the captured enemies he would never utter to anyone that wasn’t there.

Fuyumi and Shouto couldn’t look him in his eyes for the rest of the day. It was Dabi, as heartless as he was, that told him it was enough.

He would give anything to give you what you deserved, a life without pain and death. But that’s not how it worked. Not in this life.

He knew that, yet, he had been selfish and took you for himself. Now, this was the result. Your life in unremitting danger because of who he was.

The agonized screams of dry ice burning away flesh constantly played in his head. It only seemed more prevalent, now more than ever, that people like him didn’t deserve people like you.  

[Present]

Natsuo’s heavy stare caused you to shift. As he changed into pajamas, you looked at the clock. It was 2am.

You hadn’t realized it was so late.

You felt a heavy dip in the bed and watched your fiancé carefully settle into the sheets. His face was clean of blood and dirt, so he must've showered before coming back home.

A pregnant pause filtered between you two. As you continued to stare at one another, you could see his façade slip with each passing second. The blank front he was so skilled at putting up melted as his eyes continued to pass over the bandages. His eyes sunk and the skin around them was dark with wear. He looked exhausted.

The anger that had once bristled inside of you had given way to melancholy a long time ago. You felt so empty and lonely with the dark thoughts that circled in your head. Sleep wasn’t an option if you wanted to avoid the nightmares that would plague you.

The two of you scooted closer to one another. Natsuo was the first to speak. He spoke in a voice so small, you almost missed it.

“Can I touch you?”

“Please,” you whispered.

Soon enough, you were in his arms, chin on his shoulder as he peppered the junction between your neck and collarbone with kisses. You relished in his hands exploring your body, missing how he just seemed to swallow you up.

“I love you, Y/N,” he breathed.

“I love you too, Natsuo.”

Much of the night was spent reminding yourselves of the other’s touch. Natsuo drew your lips captive, his tongue overtaking you with dizzying pleasure. You couldn’t keep track of where his mouth was. Whether it was on your lips, on your stomach, or in between your legs, you savored how good it felt.

Soon, his low growls and moans were hot against your ears. Your nails ran down Natsuo’s back as his hips swam into you, taking his time to rememorize how you felt around him. The bed creaked along with your moans. You threw your head back and gripped whatever you could hold of him during your lovemaking.

It seemed you’d reach your high over and over again. You could never get enough of each other. There was something intoxicating about how his tongue would roll over yours as he pounded into you, staking claim over your body as he gave himself to you until he couldn’t.

When your bodies couldn’t go any longer, you just lied underneath the sheets. Natsuo lied on top of you, head on your chest and listened to your heartbeat. You pushed back his sweaty bangs, staring down at him.  

You hadn’t even realized you were crying until his thumbs went to swipe past your cheeks.

“Damn it,” you hiccupped.

Natsuo let his vulnerability slip. “I know they’re just words, but I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he said. His voice cracked and it was your turn to catch the tears that fell from his eyes.

“I know. I’m sorry too.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

“No, I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. I was just…”

“Just what?”

A fresh wave of images from today filled the forefront of your mind. Those pictures did something to you. A switch was flicked.  

Your voice caught in your throat and your eyes pinched as more tears filled them. However, these were not tears of fright, rather tears of animosity. The anger you thought had left you had turned into something worse. Something much darker.  

Natsuo saw that look many times before in his own reflection. Vengeance. Pure, unadulterated, vengeance. And as much as he hated it, it was the gas that incited his own flame.  

“Natsuo,” you spoke like you were about to tell a secret. You slowly swallowed the ball in your throat.

“What is it, baby? Tell me what it is you want.”

The words that left your mouth felt different, but you would never regret them.

“Whoever it was, whoever was behind this, I want them gone,” you instructed, voice stone cold. “For every child lost, I want ten of their heads. For all our men they took, I want their bodies burned. For the life they took from Jane, I want their blood on the street. Today, they took their stance when they tried to kill me.”

You held his face and fell into his gaze with hard eyes. In those grey irises, you saw a man that would stand against an army for you. It gave you the courage to say your order.

“And for that, I want the entire yakuza dead.”  

The glint in his eye matched your own and you knew there was no turning back. Natsuo nodded without a second thought. There was nothing to think about. He’d give you the entire world or burn it down at the flick of your hand.

“Yes, my Onna-Oyabun. Your wish is my command.”

He sealed the deal with a kiss.

“This is war.”

[carewyncromwell]

The Cinderella AU is back...and with it, a proper introduction to the character who fills the “evil stepmother” role -- Carewyn’s cold, cruel grandfather, Charles Cromwell. If you’d like to learn more about Charles and his family’s canon counterparts, you can consult this post, but to summarize quickly, in Carewyn’s canon, Carewyn’s mother Lane ran away from home to elope with a Muggle, which ended up protecting Carewyn and Jacob from Charles’s emotionally abusive influence. (At least until R started going after them, because hey, what d’you know, in Carey-bear’s canon, Charles is R’s leader.) But in this AU, Carewyn has to answer to Charles for some reason...so yeah, that doesn’t bode well, does it? You’ll just have to read on to learn a little more about why that might be...

Fashion changed very dramatically during the Renaissance, thanks in large part to the cross-pollination of different cultures and influences that came from more extensive travel, the growing popularity of published works, and royal funding of the arts. Pre-Renaissance men’s fashion, at least for the nobility, was very big on oversized sleeves, which ended up creating a more “top-heavy” frame. (Just look at most portraits of King Henry VIII.) As the Renaissance went on, though, trunk hose (which creates that kind of “bubble butt” look that we’re used to seeing in William Shakespeare Halloween costumes) became the latest fad, shifting a man’s frame to be much more “bottom-heavy.” Women’s fashion briefly flirted with wide trumpet sleeves (as one can see in this portrait of a young Elizabeth Tudor, later Queen Elizabeth I), but by the time the 1550′s were over, rounded sleeves grew much more popular. Fitted sleeves also went in and out of style in a lot of Europe throughout the 16th century, though sleeves were considered a special feature on gowns, so they often had a lot of embellishments, such as paneling, embroidery, or puffs. One exception to this rule, however, was in Italy, where fitted, detachable sleeves that could be used on multiple gowns became fashionable. Fashion in Italy in the 16th century was notably understated and modest compared to a lot of Europe, which tended to favor a lot of ornate beading and embroidery -- there were even laws on the books restricting how “bedazzled” women’s fashion could be. One such law even banned stripes, as it was considered wasteful to use two different kinds of fabric just to make a pattern. That being said, there were plenty of people in Italy who said “screw the rules” and worked around them anyway. Carewyn’s dress in this picture is somewhat based on this design, but with some tweaking, most notably with a fuller skirt and more ornate and puffy sleeves.

Previous part is here -- whole tag is here -- and I hope you enjoy!

x~x~x~x

When the end of the month arrived, Andre requested that Carewyn come to his chambers bright and early in the morning. Carewyn had anticipated that the prince had some extra duties for her to attend to, but instead, he immediately led her over to a corner of his bed chamber that he’d drawn a curtain around. When he pulled the curtain back, he revealed a full tailoring station inside his walk-in closet, complete with organized rolls of fabric, various jewels and beads strewn about over a table, several unfinished hats stacked on the nearby desk, an entire separate wardrobe of unfinished pieces, and several mannequins with fine fabrics half-pinned on them.

One mannequin, however, was wearing a completely finished, luxurious dark scarlet gown. It was made of about six different fabrics, all cut and sewn together in a complex tapestry of folds and textures and trimmed with many sparkling beads and jewels. Also lying on the floor just in front of the dress was a pair of heeled shoes made of off-white cloth with red and white roses sewn into the toes.

Carewyn couldn’t help but gape. Andre was grinning from ear to ear.

“So?” he asked. “What do you think?”

Carewyn glanced out the side of her eye at the prince, over to the dress, and back.

“Did you...make this, your Highness?” she asked, amazed.

Andre laughed. “Carewyn, please, it’s ‘Andre.’ But yes! I got inspired while working on your shoes, so I stitched this up to go with it. ...Do you like it?”

Carewyn walked around the mannequin to look over the gown, not daring to touch it. She’d never seen so many fine fabrics on one dress before -- velvet, linen, silk -- and all the embellishments must’ve taken full days to finish --

“It’s -- well, it’s extraordinary, your -- Andre,” she corrected herself very quickly noticing the prince’s pointed smile. Even she was finding it difficult not to smile too. “The beading on the sleeves, the lace work -- the alternating wool and cotton paneling along the bodice...it’s worthy of an artisan!”

Andre looked clearly both incredibly pleased and impressed. “You have an eye for detail, Carewyn!”

His face burst into a bright white grin as he bent down and picked up one of the off-white cloth shoes.

“I’m pleased you like it,” he said brightly. “I thought it’d be the perfect thing for you to wear today. Lord Cromwell sent a message to the palace asking Father if you could return home for a visit -- so I worked all night to get this done in time so that you could wear it for your outing with your new shoes.”

Despite her best efforts, Carewyn couldn’t completely keep the dismay and discomfort she felt off her face.

“What? Oh -- oh, your Highness, I -- ”

“Ah, ah, ah,” chided Andre, “what have I asked you to call me?”

“Andre,” Carewyn corrected very quickly, her eyes drifting up onto the dress rather than at Andre, “this dress is...truly beautiful...but it befits a lady of status, not -- ”

“It fits you,” Andre said, undaunted. “I used the measurements from your uniform fitting. It should fit you like a glove -- or better.”

Carewyn felt like her stomach was shriveling up. She hated turning away such a lovely gift -- under any other circumstances, she would love wearing it out and about. But...

“That...that is...it’s so kind of you, to use me as your template...”

Or “dress-up doll” -- that is what the Queen said I would be, isn’t it?

“...but I simply couldn’t wear such a gift on my visit...not when I have no comparable gifts to bring my cousins. Many of them are around my age, and...and well, I know Heather, Iris, and Dahlia would be very upset, knowing I got to wear such a beautiful dress and they didn’t.”

None of her cousins had ever been very respectful of Carewyn’s personal belongings. Not long after she first arrived, her aunt Pearl’s two bullying sons, Kain and Arsen, stole her jewelry box while she was sleeping and sold both it and its contents for pocket change. Her youngest cousin, her uncle Blaise’s bratty son Tristan, had once thrown a bottle of red wine out the window that shattered mere feet away from Carewyn and soaked her dress so badly that it never washed out. Even Iris had -- after Carewyn caught the eye of one of her suitors who’d come to call -- ripped the sleeve off Carewyn’s dress so badly that she had to hide from sight for most of the day, until she’d managed to sew it up enough that her chest wasn’t exposed. Carewyn had had to hide her mother’s old dress from her cousins for years, for fear they might steal and/or ruin it.

Andre frowned deeply.

“Well, I hardly can send along anything for your cousins without knowing their measurements,” he said with a quick glance at the wardrobe full of unfinished pieces.

His face then brightened with an idea.

“How about this -- I’ll order you. I order you to wear this dress on your trip home, and to have your cousins give you their honest opinion of it. Then you must bring their opinions back to me. Goodness knows I could use some feedback -- and maybe a few new ideas, if they have them,” he added with a teasing grin.

Carewyn opened her mouth to object, but Andre cut her off.

“As your prince, I command you to showcase my work to your family,” he said through a broad grin. “Am I clear?”

Carewyn really, really didn’t love the idea -- but she had to concede that she could use this to her advantage. She needed a stable place at the palace in order to achieve her goals, and she could help maintain that stable place at the palace by justifying to Charles why she had to be there. And Charles’s whole interest in her being there was to try to endear the Cromwells further to the royal family, and maybe even secure one of her Aunt Claire’s daughters a space in that family...

So, with a heavy sigh, she put on a small smile and inclined her head respectfully.

“Very well, Andre. I’ll wear your work proudly.”

And so Carewyn set off for the Cromwell estate on horseback, dressed in the new shoes and dress Andre had made for her. The shoes were lovely and fit perfectly, but they were rather impractical for walking around outdoors. Carewyn thought to herself that she might have to continue wearing her old shoes when she returned to her palace work, if for no other reason that she hated the thought of getting them scuffed up.

As to be expected, when she arrived, her cousins reacted very hostilely to her appearance.

“Well, well,” sneered curly-black-haired Kain, “what do we have here? Playacting as a lady, little Winnie?”

“All hail Lady Cinderwyn, Duchess of Dust!” sniggered his similarly dark-haired brother Arsen.

He reached for her wide skirt, but Carewyn -- remaining on her horse -- steered herself far enough back that he couldn’t reach.

“I wouldn’t damage this, if I were you,” she said as coolly and levelly as she could. “It’s not mine.”

Arsen and Kain exchanged a mocking, wide-eyed look and an “oooooh.”

“Are you a thief now, little Winnie?” asked Kain. “How far you’ve fallen -- we might need to call the castle guard on you -- ”

“Cinderwyn’s a thief!” crowed tiny Tristan in a sing-song voice. “Cinderwyn’s a thief!”

Claire’s three daughters looked a lot less mocking.

“You have some nerve, stealing clothes from your betters,” spat dainty, brown-haired Heather. “Grandfather should lash you within an inch of your life -- ”

“I haven’t stolen anything,” Carewyn said very firmly. “Now I wish to see Grandfather. I have a message from the Prince he’ll want to hear.”

“Grandfather’s inside,” said Claire’s gangling, button-nosed son Elmer with a crooked smile. “I’m sure he’ll enjoy your new look, Lady Cinderwyn...especially with the finishing touch!”

He jumped right into a mud puddle that splashed everywhere. Carewyn just barely avoided the spray, but when she moved back, Dahlia and Iris successfully grabbed hold of her velvet brocaded skirt and yanked hard in either direction, as if trying to rip it.

“Iris -- Dahlia --  ” said Carewyn, her voice growing colder and harder as she struggled to hold in her temper and emotion as best she could, “if either of you have any ambition to marry his Highness, I would strongly suggest letting go of his dress this instant!”

All of Carewyn’s cousins stiffened.

“His dress?” repeated Dahlia, looking outraged. “You mean to say you took this from the Prince?!”

“He bid me to wear it, for my visit,” Carewyn shot back fiercely. “Or would you have me oppose his Highness’s will?”

“You...arrogant, pretentious, ungrateful little rat!” shrieked Dahlia. She tried to yank Carewyn off her horse, and there was a slight struggle as Carewyn tried to both comfort her horse and prevent Dahlia from dislodging her.

“Now, now, children,” said a very coldly serene voice, “a little less noise there.”

All of the Cromwell children looked up to see Charles Cromwell striding across the lawn. He was dressed in black, gray, and white with a dark red cape with black trim, and he supported himself on an ebony-wood cane with a dragon’s head carved out of black zircon for a handle. Behind him were Carewyn’s aunts, Pearl and Claire, with their husbands, as well as her uncle Blaise. All three of them were looking over Carewyn’s outfit disapprovingly -- Blaise looked particularly irritated, his upper lip curling as he rested a hand on top of Tristan’s shoulder that made the small boy flinch.

Iris and Dahlia were still clinging to Carewyn’s skirt, but they’d frozen up like startled cats when their grandfather appeared.

“Grandfather -- ” stammered Iris, “W-Winnie’s a no-good thief -- she stole this dress from -- !”

"I have stolen nothing,” Carewyn repeated coldly. She stroked her horse’s white mane several times to soothe it.

Pearl too had come up to rest a hand on Arsen’s shoulder and was looking at Carewyn very critically out her own almond-shaped blue eyes -- most of Carewyn’s family had them.

“Is that so?” she said, her voice a low growl in her throat. “Explain, then, what gives you the nerve to show up here dressed in such obnoxious clothes.”

“It’s positively garish,” added Claire in a higher, simpering tone from her comfortable spot in her husband’s arms, mirroring her sister’s disapproval like a child would imitate their older sibling.

Carewyn raised her eyebrows very coolly. “Prince Henri will be very disappointed to hear that. He worked very hard on this.”

This startled all of the Cromwells. Blaise looked scandalized.

“And I suppose that makes you think the Prince favors you somehow?” he spat, his eyes flashing dangerously as he released Tristan’s shoulder and approached Carewyn’s horse. “Rather than just thinking of using you as some saucy little tart and then discarding you, just like your wretch of a father did your mother -- ”

"I think nothing of the sort,” Carewyn cut him off coldly.

Don’t you dare talk about my mother.

Charles, the least visibly startled, took a few steps forward. Iris and Dahlia finally released Carewyn’s skirt so as to get out of the way, and Charles came to a stop about three feet from Carewyn’s horse, his own almond-shaped eyes locked on his ginger-haired granddaughter’s face.

“I believe you owe me a full report, child,” he said quietly. “Stand before me and give it.”

Carewyn’s red-painted lips pursed as she picked up her skirts and descended from her horse at last. She looked up at Charles with a very stoic expression.

“Prince Henri learned that I would be coming to see you, as per your request,” she explained. “He commanded that I wear this dress, for my visit. He’s heard about my cousins and desires Dahlia, Iris, and Heather’s opinions on it. Then he requested I deliver their feedback back to him this evening.”

The time limit was a flat-out lie, but one Carewyn knew she could get away with. She did not want to stay at the Cromwell estate overnight -- she’d rather sleep on a lumpy old cot in the servants’ quarters than on the floor by the kitchen fireplace. 

Claire looked at Charles, her face breaking into a rather eager expression. “His Highness wishes to hear from my daughters? He must have heard from the rest of the court of their extensive talents -- ”

“Or at least purported talents,” said Blaise under his breath with a rather cynical look. “Seems the rumor mill is working well...“

Pearl shot Blaise a glare, but Claire didn’t seem to hear him -- she had already whirled on Carewyn.

“Tell his Highness that the dress is a work of art, fit for a queen!” she said insistently. “And make sure that he knows that there are much better models for his work here, at the Cromwell estate -- Iris has a far superior build, Dahlia the most perfect shoulders -- ”

“I suppose Winnie can do far worse than inanely fawning over your daughters’ target on their behalf,” said Blaise in a rather cutting voice. “Mindlessly swooning certainly worked for you.”

“Blaise!” Pearl snapped reproachfully.

Charles’s eyes drifted over Claire and her three anxious-looking daughters thoughtfully.

“...What feedback...do you believe would most please his Highness, child?” he asked Carewyn.

“He appreciated it when I noticed the details,” said Carewyn. “I would think if anyone had any creative ideas to add onto it...or perhaps constructive criticism...he might react well to it. His Highness is very interested in fashion and tailoring...I’m sure he would appreciate knowing someone who could indulge in that passion with him.”

He must be awfully lonely, locked up in the palace all the time. It’s no wonder he tried to find things to do indoors that could bring him some joy, if he’s unable to go much of anywhere...

Charles’s eyes flitted over the silk and ornate beading on Carewyn’s sleeves.

“His Highness certainly does have an eye for finery...has the royal family come into additional wealth recently?”

“I don’t think so,” said Carewyn. “The castle staff is very limited. And although the nobility are all dressed and fed well and the castle is decadent, the staff is frequently short of common necessities like nails and coal for the fire. Not to mention the staff’s rations are sparse.”

Iris gave a loud, haughty laugh. “Ha! Probably just as well -- you could do with getting some of that meat off your thighs!”

“Iris,” said Charles very sleekly, even as the rest of Carewyn’s cousins sniggered.

His lips curled up in a smile that didn’t touch his eyes.

“...It seems that the King and Queen are indeed in need of our family’s charity. But we must indulge their pride. It’ll be far easier for them to accept help from a future daughter-in-law and princess than simply from a loyal servant of the realm. Carewyn -- you shall report back what his Highness wishes to hear. Customize three answers for Heather, Iris, and Dahlia -- one fawning, one critical, one creative. Whichever answer he likes best, we will then pursue that route with the cousin you’ve assigned to it.”

His almond-shaped blue eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly upon Carewyn’s face.

“And once we’ve secured an invitation from the Prince...I expect that you will step aside, to make room for your cousin to make her move.”

Carewyn’s expression didn’t shift.

“I’m not interested in courting princes,” she said lowly.

Heather, Iris, and Dahlia can knock themselves out. Andre will see through them sooner or later, and it’ll be all their own fault.

There was a cold, diamond-like glint in Charles’s eye. “...Yes...you truly don’t care to chase any man except for your brother...do you, Carewyn, my dear?”

Carewyn tried not to blink or look away.

“You have news of Jacob?”

Charles sighed airily. “I’m afraid not, my dear. I know he’s well, of course...but news from the War front, as you know, is simply impossible to come by...”

“You know he’s alive,” Carewyn shot back a bit more sharply than she meant to. “That doesn’t mean he’s well. No one could be doing well out there.”

“And yet I’m sure you’re happy that the first is guaranteed?” said Charles. “At least, so long as you do your duty to your family, and to me?”

It was a warning, but it was done so delicately -- it was like his voice was flirting with a threat, rather than flat-out making one.

Carewyn’s lips came together tightly as her gaze drifted to the ground.

“You know I wish no harm to come to either you or Jacob,” Charles said softly. “Losing a child was terrible enough, losing grandchildren as well...well, it would deeply upset me. And per our agreement, you are the one who must shoulder the burden of your brother’s and your debt to me...particularly since you have no dowry and no possible claim to my estate. Remember, Carewyn...you are responsible for how you are treated -- and for how Jacob is treated.” 

Carewyn’s eyebrows knit tightly together over her closed eyes.

“...Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now then -- rehearse the answers you plan to give to his Highness with your cousins. I wish them to sound convincing, so that when one or more of them is invited to the palace, they will be able to play their part appropriately.”

Carewyn hated every minute of hashing out responses with Heather, Iris, and Dahlia. Like their mother Claire, they and Elmer were all “follower” type personalities who tended to echo whatever they thought would please others -- so Dahlia, Iris, and Heather were constantly trying to steal each other’s ideas to “improve” Carewyn’s answers, despite all three of them supposedly needing to take three different approaches as part of Charles’s plan. Even the three girls’ hostile attitude toward Carewyn largely came down to her refusing to follow their direction, despite her lowered status in the family giving them authority over her -- something that, Carewyn believed, they would never do if their positions were switched.

When Carewyn was finally ready to leave (and successfully avoided Tristan’s muddy hands when the wickedly grinning little boy forcibly tried to hug her goodbye so he could leave stains on her dress), Blaise pulled Charles aside. As the male heir of the Cromwell legacy, Blaise had always followed in his father’s footsteps most, but there was one thing they didn’t agree on.

“Father,” he said, his voice very low in the back of his throat as he watched Carewyn ride away at a fast gallop, “I don’t approve of her returning to that place.”

Charles smiled coldly. “You always have disliked sharing your toys with others, Blaise.”

“It’s a bad influence!” said Blaise, whirling on his father. “We can’t monitor what she does, how she behaves -- who she speaks to -- how can we hope to keep her, if we consistently open her cage?”

Charles’s eyes, the same color and shape of all of his children and most of his grandchildren, sparkled with something crueler.

“Ah, my boy,” he said sardonically, “you have much to learn about cages. Physical cages have strong bars, but ones easy to see and constantly weathered. But a cage forged carefully in another’s mind...can become so strong that the prisoner willingly chooses to stay.”

Charles turned on his heel, his lips curling up further still even though his face remained so doll-like and emotionless.

“As weak and overemotional of a thing she is, Carewyn is far more like you and me than Lane ever was. She’s very resourceful and she’ll do whatever she has to in order to get what she wants -- and that drive fuels everything she is and does. It may make her spirited, but it also makes it so that as long as she sees Jacob’s life in the palm of my hand...so too will she be.”

Blaise’s eyes flickered with a strange skepticism. “And...if Jacob’s life were ever not under your sway?”

Charles’s expression grew even more detached and emotionless as his smile faded and his eyebrows raised.

“...Would Carewyn really want to contemplate what state he’d be in, if he weren’t?”

Carewyn couldn’t be happier to leave the Cromwell estate behind. She didn’t slow down her horse’s pace until she’d reached the outskirts of the market, well after the manor house was out of sight. Only then did she slow her horse down to a leisurely trot, so that she could enjoy some time on her own wandering down the village streets before heading back to the palace. The castle staff wasn’t expecting her back to work until the following morning, so she could take her time.

Unfortunately for Carewyn, there was another reason her cousin Tristan’s hands had been so muddy -- and that reason soon became apparent when Carewyn reached into one of the pockets on the side of her saddle, thinking to temporarily change out of the pretty shoes Andre had given her and were now pinching her feet for the ride home. When she reached into the pocket, she instead found the tiny snake that Tristan had stolen out of the reeds by the nearby pond.

With a scream of surprise, Carewyn flung the snake to the ground -- the snake arched back, hissing angrily, and that in turn spooked Carewyn’s horse. With a loud, scared whinny, it reared back, bucking wildly.

“Whoa!” cried Carewyn. “Whoa, boy -- whoa!”

Several passerby turned around at the sound of the noise. A few looked like they wanted to help, but were too warded off by the horse’s kicking feet. Carewyn tried desperately to calm her horse, stroking its mane with one hand and clinging desperately onto the reins with the other, but it was no use. She wasn’t strong enough to wrench her horse into submission. And so when the horse gave a particularly violent jerk, Carewyn was thrown right off.

“AHH!”

Out of nowhere, someone dashed forward. Carewyn ended up slamming right into them, and the two landed roughly in a heap in the dirt.

Carewyn watched her horse gallop off the street, her face very tense and distraught. She then looked down at the person she’d landed on top of, and she gave a visible start.

Her “hero” was a man about her age dressed in modest clothes with tanned skin, slightly-too-long dark hair, and a beard. His sparkling black eyes were squinted slightly as he winced in pain, but nonetheless shone with some concern as he looked her over.

“Are you hurt, Lady Cromwell?” asked Orion.

[blacksunscorpio]

Scorp you're a genius! So relatable and I love how you don't judge others or anyone who comes to you for help. Keep it up! I just had to ask since I see that you make pop culture references to make analogies with astrology. You've mentioned GoT a few times and im a huge fan! Can you do a quick post on Game of Thrones characters and their potential zodiac signs? I'd love to hear your input! Thank you so much!!

Game of Thrones Characters & Their Zodiac Signs

Aries

Khal Drogo- Impulsive. Warlike. Bloodthirsty. Alpha. Conqueror. Hardcore athlete [did you see him on that horse?] Extremely sexual. Forceful. When he first meets Daenerys, he forces himself on her. Afterward, however, he is the first to go to war if he feels the people around him have been disrespected.

Aerys Targaryen- Impulsive, sadistic. Boastful. imperial. He would be the Emperor [reversed] in Tarot, lol. Not as good with being a tactician as he ought to have been. Cruel. Rage problems. The need to be the first and the best. Fire and blood, anyone?

Taurus

Maergery Tyrell - Classy, wealthy, sexy, laid-back, frank but with an air of elegance. Highgardeners have a love for the finer things in life. A love of fine wines and foods. Beautiful clothing and aesthetics. RICH RICH. Get on their bad side and they will take their time finding a way to subvert your authority.

Robert Baratheon- Love of luxury, bullheaded, strong, takes no shit. Fixed in his opinions of others, highkey jealous. In his youth, he enjoyed the gifts of Venus: Charm, wealth coming from the noble house of Baratheon, widely considered handsome by almost all in the 7 kingdoms. 

Gemini

Tyrion Lannister- Silver-tongued. HIGHKEY intelligent. Social. Charming. Great sense of humor. A freak [in the sheets]. Chatty. Always finds his way out of a sticky situation. Finds a way to use his intel to bolster diplomacy between his family and the families who hate them.

Little Finger- Cunning, quick-witted, works behind the scenes, manipulative, a  snake, jack of all trades. Top dog in the social circles of the 7 Kingdoms. There wasn’t a person who didn’t know of him and his... reputation. He singlehandedly, through his Machiavellian tactics, caused the events of Game of Thrones to unfold. 

Cancer  

Cersei Lannister- Protective, moody, caring [to her kids], motherly, cantankerous, jealous. A savage. People don’t give Cancer’s the credit they deserve in terms of what they’re capable of. Cersei is a prime example of the type of person who can show unrivaled levels of devotion to the one’s they love. “No one matters but us.” She can be cruel because she lets her emotions rule her actions. When her safety is threatened, she makes sure no one else feels safe either. She loves with a ferocity only rivaled by...

Catelyn Stark- Another mother who would die [quite literally] for her children. Fierce, Protective. Doting. JEALOUS. Let’s not forget how she treated Jon all because she believed Ned’s lie about him being a bastard. Followed her son into battle. Damn near lost her hands fighting off Bran’s would-be assassin. 

Leo

Jaime Lannister- Proud. Handsome. Princely. Funny. We seem him go from underdeveloped Leo [arrogant, selfish, bully, prideful, snob, loyal to no one but himself] to developed [Kind, helpful, warm, honest]. Fought bears for his friends. Skilled and proud fighter even without the use of both his hands. Unfortunately, his loyalty caused him to stay loyal to his twin towards the end, but such is the nature of a Leo. They’re hard-pressed to abandon those they truly care for.

Brienne of Tarth- LOYAL. Proud. Devoted. A bit of a flare for drama especially brandishing her sword. Brienne is the definition of Leonine traits. Hard to miss. Devoted to those who show her kindness, i.e Renly, Catelyn, Jaime, Sansa, etc. Always at the front lines in war screaming “STAND YOUR GROUND”. Unrivaled levels of bravery and courage. Not to be fucked with. A true Queen.

Virgo

Samwell Tarley- Intelligent. Scholarly. Methodical. Always with his nose in a book. Unproblematic king. Caught the things everyone else missed, especially when he was an apprentice in Old Towne. Figured out how to cure Jorah Mormont’s affliction on his OWN without any formal training. Genius.

Lord Varys- Remember, Virgo is also ruled by Mercury who is the most cunning of the planetary rulers. Varys always had a spy to collect intel on everyone. A tactician. Never lost his temper. Always had the scoop but didn’t partake in gossip for gossip's sake. Not afraid to be critical or tell those “in charge” his opinion. We can see this specifically when he critiques Aerys, Daenerys, and Robert. 

Libra

Davos Seaworth- a skilled diplomat. Davos is always seen seeking balance and fairness in the situations he finds himself in. The minute you see this man in a scene you know he’s going to give a moving speech and get someone out fo a sticky situation. He convinced the Iron Bank to support Stannis. Convinced Daenerys to entertain Jon Snow when they traveled to Dragonstone. Always breaking up a fight. He is in full support of law and order, especially when he called for Melisandre’s head after discovering her part in Shireen’s death [RIP.]

Rhaegar Targaryen- Had a love of music. Harmony. Balance. He brought two families together [Stark and Targaryen]. He was also blessed by Venus in my opinion because he was said to be extremely handsome. A fabulous singer. A fighter yes, but a lover first. Very good with diplomacy but not the best with defending himself against his cousin sign, Taurus [Robert Baratheon].

Scorpio

Daenerys Targaryen- Many see her as an Aries but I have to respectfully disagree. Daenerys is a Scorpio in my opinion. Remember, Scorpio is honorary fire. She was literally “reborn from the ashes”. A Phoenix, Scorpio’s final form. She went from a silent and meek girl to a skilled and commanding Empress. Unlike Arians, she did not jump headfirst into battle. It took many arrows in her dragons, many slights to her ego, copious council from her advisors, dozens of her loved ones lost for her to go nuclear. Like her father, she hungered for power, a very Scorpionic trait. However she, unlike her father, listened to reason [Jorah, Tyrion, and Barristan Selmy]. She had a long fuse until she didn’t, and then that’s when she rained fire and blood on everyone in King’s Landing. She was skilled at retribution and was unapologetic with it *cough* the Tarleys *cough*.. Unlike Arians who pop off at the drop of a hat, she gave her enemies fair warning if/when they crossed her.

Arya Stark- You already know what it is with this one. Arya is pretty much death [Pluto], personified. Stealthy. A tactician. VENGEFUL. I think we all fist-pumped when she served Filch Walder Frey his sons in that pie. Never forgets a slight. Keeps a list of people who’ve wronged her [All Scorpios can probably relate]. You never see her coming. She is “no-one”. She is the assassin that slips through the back. She may seem calm at first but trust that she has been planning your downfall for a while. LOYAL. The definition of a Scorpio.

Melisandre- Dark. Mysterious. Unafraid of the occult. So much of her life is unknown and I’m sure that’s how she preferred it. Even her Lord of light was mysterious. Strong supernatural abilities and highkey psychic. Knew immediately how many “eyes” Arya would “close.” Had ties to the underworld which is demonstrated with her ability to resurrect the dead. Came through at the clutch in the last battle wielding fire [Mars] with her witchcraft. It’s no secret that Scorpios are some of the most skilled in sorcery.

Sagittarius

Missandei- Exotic. From Naath which is an island just above the mysterious continent of Sothoryos. A world traveler. Lucky enough to escape slavery [until the end]. Jupiter's influence is here in my opinion because she is so kind and friendly. Also a polyglot and gifted with the ability to speak 19 languages. Her fire is seen at the end of the series when she tells her best friend “Dracarys”-- meaning “fire” in High Valyrian. She isn’t afraid to call wrath down on others.

Olenna Tyrell- Loud, unapologetically blunt, zero-filter, feisty. Olenna to me is the definition of Sagittarius. Always speaks her mind. Clap back queen. Will call you out. Was also quite promiscuous in her younger years. Very charismatic and extremely likable despite her penchant for saying whatever was on her mind.

Capricorn

Tywin Lannister- I can’t see the patriarch of the most notorious family in Westeros being anything other than a Capricorn. Methodical. Structured. Business-minded. Karmic [A "Lannister always repays his debts"] Cold. Cruel. Unfeeling. Like Saturn, he is the father figure. Basically ran the 7 Kingdoms for Aerys, [which was probably why the latter was so salty towards him.] Always has a plan. The man you want in charge if we’re strictly talking about law and order. Vindictive [had the mountain kill Elia because Rhaegar rejected Cersei.] He’s the ultimate son-of-a-bitch.

Jon Snow- Brooding hero that he is, Bae Jon Snow is without a doubt a Capricorn in my eyes. Duty-bound. Serious. A leader in his own right. Could also be cold and unfeeling in terms of distributing karmic justice. Lest we forget the “fetch-me-a-block” situation with Janos Slynt. In addition, the moment he was resurrected he took vengeance against the black brothers who betrayed him. Saturn, Like Pluto, is all about karmic justice. The beating he put on Ramsey after The Battle of the Bastards was one thousand percent a karmic beating. A proper lover as well, according to Ygritte, Jon also knew how to handle himself in the bedroom, a trait very akin to Capricorns.

Aquarius

Bran Stark- I thought about making Bran a Pisces, but then I changed my mind. Remember Uranus rules sudden insights and hardcore psychic receptivity. It also rules sudden and unexpected catastrophes or surprises/ sudden breaks. Bran suffered a literal “tower” moment at the beginning of the series which resulted in his psychic powers developing. Once he became the three-eyed raven, he became very detached from the world.

Grey Worm- Aquarius is also androgynous. Grey Worm is a eunuch. He is always down to fight for a cause though, specifically his queen’s. Cares about others, specifically Missandei, and was seen towards the latter season speaking up for the Unsullied against the slavers. Fierce combatant but also very detached. His job is his job.

Pisces

Jaqen H’ghar- Much like Neptune, Pisces’ ruler Jaqen has a mysterious and illusive personality. He wears “many faces”. Skilled at illusion and very very intuitive. Has a soft side though which is clearly seen with how he treats Arya. Hardly ever flies off the handle. Calm. Cool. Collected.

Hodor- Sweet and gentle giant, Hodor is a Pisces to me. Affected by psychic trauma, it’s revealed why “Hodor” is the only thing he can say. Calm. A bit of a baby. Caring. Easily adaptable [think of all the terrain he carried Bran through]

Eddard Stark- I don't care what anyone says, Ned stark to me represents the most developed form of a Pisces. Like the Hanged-Man in Tarot that represents sacrifice and which Neptune Rules, he willingly sacrificed his reputation as honorable for his sister, Lyanna. He later sacrifices himself for his children when he died at Joffrey’s [little bitch] command. He is wise. Though appears cold, he is actually a well of feeling and caring. Unfortunately, he also suffered from the naivety of Neptunian influence which is why he wasn’t very skilled at the Game of Thrones, which calls for more tactical ruthlessness. Pisceans however also have the rage of Poseidon flowing through their veins [which people like to forget]. This was displayed when he pinned Petyr Baelish to the Wall in King’s Landing for daring to dishonor Cat by inviting her into a Brothel. RIP, King Stark.

[rainythefox]

Nightfall (CH.15)

Synopsis: Pre-Resident Evil 1, slight-AU/Canon Divergence. Claire Redfield comes home to visit her  brother Chris for the holidays but gets caught up in a dangerous game of  cat and mouse with Albert Wesker, the Captain of STARS, after stumbling  upon dark secrets. She can’t call the law; Wesker is the law, and she  can’t tell Chris. She is trapped…Claire/Wesker & Slight Chris/Jill (There’s Wesker & William Bromance too lol). Rated M for smut, language, violence, adult content.

AO3 Link

Chapter 15:Infatuation

Claire was awake when she heard Chris getting ready for work, but she stayed in bed. She didn’t join him for breakfast or a cup of coffee. She didn’t see him off. She just turned over on her side, away from her door where the hallway light creeped through underneath. She had endured a near sleepless night of tosses and turns, the aches in her muscles a stinging reminder of what she had done.

She must’ve fallen asleep for a couple of hours because she awoke to sunshine peeking through the curtains. The sun was out, reflecting off the snow that blanketed the city. Claire got out of bed and did her usual morning ritual: dressing, brushing her teeth, hopelessly trying to come up with a way to escape her grim situation. Funny how that last one had snuck into her daily routine. Her new normal apparently.

Claire made herself toast and orange juice for breakfast but barely touched it. She tried distracting herself with the newspaper, but there wasn’t anything interesting to read in Raccoon Times.

Umbrella Corporation opens new distribution center, creates 600 new jobs

Mayor Warren promises more funding for local orphanage

Kite Bros. expands Downtown travel with new subway tunnel

Clock Tower Plaza puts up traditional Raccoon City Christmas Tree

Even though Chris left her his truck again, she didn’t want to go anywhere. Where would she go? See a friend and potentially drag them into her situation? Try and get help from someone else that was under Wesker’s boot or on his payroll? Raccoon City seemed like an illusion now, a cesspool of collusion and extortion. As though the rose-colored glasses she had once viewed the city in were ripped from her eyes to expose all of the red flags and blood she couldn’t see before.

Besides, she felt bad for the fight she had with her brother last night. Despite Chris overstepping boundaries with his overprotective nature, he was just concerned for her. He knew she was hiding something and was worried. The Redfield siblings only had each other, for nearly nine years now. Chris had sacrificed time and time again for her, to make sure they could stay together, to make sure she could go to college, always making sure she had what she needed over himself. Even when Chris’s behavior got him discharged more than once, he always put her first.

He knew she could take care of herself. He made sure he taught her all he could. Most brothers were protective of their sisters, but Claire wondered if Chris’s...excessiveness was perhaps a form of PTSD from what happened to their parents. Stepping into that guardian role, he went right into the Air Force, just like their parents. He abandoned a normal future to ensure hers, to keep them together, and to somehow get closer to the parents they had lost.

That was why it was hard to stay mad at him. Even if this time he unmindfully didn’t know the danger he was putting them in with his good, albeit intemperate, intentions.

Claire decided she would apologize when Chris got home that evening. And so, she spent the day trying to be productive, to keep her mind from wandering. She studied for a while, and then cleaned the house for a bit, blasting Queen at high volume. However, no matter what she did, she couldn’t keep herself from thinking about not only her situation, but the man that now had her literally pinned under him. She worried what his next scheme for her would be. But she’d be lying to herself if she denied the excitement that also thrummed through her veins. The strange mix made her queasy.

By the time it started getting dark, Claire realized she had wasted most of her day deep in thought, trying to make sense of it all, plotting for a way out, and maybe spending more time than she’d care to admit thinking about what happened between her and Wesker.

Chris would be home soon, so she started dinner. While cooking, she turned on the television to keep her mind focused, but after a few channel changes, a local news station caught her attention with a caption that filled her lungs with ice.

“Raccoon University professor missing, linked to drugging and sexual assault of multiple students.”

Claire turned up the volume, perturbed, because she just knew which professor they were talking about…

“-ow long has this been going on, Alyssa?” asked the anchor.

The news reporter, a pretty, bob-cut blonde, was quick to answer while standing out in the cold in front of Raccoon University, wearing a white coat and a red suit. “I’m being told this may have been happening for over a year now. The RPD are keeping the victims’ identities under wraps at this time, but I do know there are at least four. Dr. Simon Lowery has been missing for a little over 24 hours, having fled after trying to drug a female student at the open house last night. We have yet to get a statement from his wife, but police are saying she had no idea of his behavior. We’ve heard the same testimonies from colleagues. This is one of those -”

Claire clicked the remote. The TV went black, silent. She stared at the screen, a shocked reflection looking back at her. The news story rubbed her wrong. Lowery was a bad man, she knew that much. He would’ve killed her over those documents, would’ve strangled her in the snow when they fought to keep her quiet over stealing whatever it was she had stolen. But not once did she get the feeling he was like that.

She’d bet money that the news story over Lowery was made up to cover up what really happened. She wasn’t sure if Wesker came up with the story or if it was any of his numerous pawns. Didn’t matter. It proved what she already knew, just like the other day when the news covered that Finley guy’s supposed “suicide” in his car. Just as Wesker had told her before, their fates were whatever he decided. Not just their deaths but their legacies, tainting and twisting them, dismantling and disgracing them, like a true god of death.

The city would never know what really happened to Finley and Lowery, whether they deserved their fates or not.

Claire shook out of her thoughts, a chill running over her as she recalled Finley’s head exploding, blood spraying all over the snow. Why had fate led her down that very same path that day?

A smoky, tangy smell pervaded her nostrils. Dinner was burning! Cursing, she raced into the kitchen to save it. The pork chops were burned on one side but other than that, the rest of dinner turned out okay.

Chris came in not long after she had finished cooking, silently walking over to her spot on the couch as she read a book. The couch shifted when he sat down, and so she looked up from the pages. Still in STARS uniform, her older brother scratched the back of his head, uncomfortable but presenting her an apologetic smile. It was hard to stay mad at him with a puppy-dog face like that.

“Hey…”

“Hey,” she mimicked.

“I’m sorry, Sis. About last night. I clearly went overboard. It’s been eating at me all day.”

“Chris, it’s -”

“Let me finish,” he pleaded. “I know you’re an adult. I know you can kick anyone’s ass. I’m overprotective because of what happened to Mom and Dad.”

She sighed. “I know.”

“But that’s no excuse to act the way I did. I trust you, Claire. And I believe in you. But I get so...obsessed with making sure you’re safe and-and fine that my stupid brain can’t see anything else! I let it get the better of me too much. So, from now on, I’ll work hard to keep myself from going overboard and to trust you more. N-Not that I haven’t trusted you! You’ve never given me a reason to doubt you. It’s stupid of me to act like you have. We’ve always had that unspoken pact that we can tell each other anything and it will always stand.”

Claire shifted uncomfortably in her spot. “A-Always.”

“I love you, Sis. I’m really sorry.”

The Redfield siblings were both stubborn and proud, and so sometimes it was Chris who apologized first and sometimes it was Claire. Although Chris usually gave in before she did. Despite that, this was still pretty soon for Chris to give in, as big as a fight they had. Claire wondered if something happened at work that made Chris come to his senses faster. Maybe Jill talked to him? Wouldn’t be the first time. She was her brother’s best friend, after all.

She decided it wasn’t important for now. She had been ready to apologize to her brother when he got home, and here he was apologizing as well. She was ready to put the whole fight behind them and move on...as best as she could in her predicament anyway. At least Chris had seemingly given up pushing her for answers. What a lucky break! Jill must’ve really lined him out.

Claire hugged Chris. “I’m sorry too, Bro. Love you!”

His strong arms wrapped around her and squeezed hard. For years growing up, it had been the safest feeling in the world. She always cherished it. Soon they pulled away, and got up to eat dinner.

William paced, flipping through pages, catching important details and logging them away at a rate far faster than the average person. Wesker leaned against the wall, dressed in his STARS attire, watching him pace a trench in front of him. Always calm, always collected. How did he do it?!

The cable car shuddered, flicking the light overhead as it rose to the surface. He hated taking this hunk of junk! Normally, he didn’t have to, but they were meeting Irons in the sewers. Perfect place to find the slimy rat.

“No! Goddamn it, no! Why? They said Sheena Island was strictly testing and experimentation! That old bastard is moving my Hunter research there without my consent, and now the Tyrants? Mass production on a prototype? Even if they perfect the Epsilon strain, it’s nowhere near ready for cloning!”

“Are you truly all that surprised?” Wesker asked.

“No, I just…” William sighed. “It’s shit like this that tells me Spencer has no plans to put me on the executive board! If I don’t get in there, we’ll never be able to fulfill our plans! And there’s no way in hell I’m bartering the G-Virus for that spot. It’s my legacy, mine to completely control. He’ll have to pry it from my cold, dead fingers!”

“Best not tempt fate, old friend.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“At any rate, your tantrum is premature. With those numbers, the Sheena Island facility won’t be operable for any kind of mass production until August at the earliest. The research team on the Epsilon strain knows that the T-002 will be obsolete by the time it is finished. More than likely a new model is being developed and that will be the one they intend to manufacture. We have time to take this knowledge and use it to our advantage later.”

Birkin snorted. Lately Al’s “optimism” gave him anxiety. "Don’t you think we have our fingers in too many pies already? And toes at this rate. We’re wearing ourselves thin, Al. With too many enemies waiting for us to screw up.”

It was a reasonable concern. Sheena Island’s true motives were still mostly top-secret for now, going by this information sent by Alex. Roth must’ve bought this information from this other cohort of his, and was probably trying to haggle deals with Mueller, Lowery, and Bard. As well as Crawford and Finley. William made a mental note to thank Alex for this later. Wesker may have been a member of the Umbrella Intelligence Division as well, but he meticulously watched his dealings, aware of Spencer’s tabs on him. Alex didn’t have this problem, and so was their go-to source of anything they weren’t privy to.

His partner scowled. “That is such an absurd idiom. Regardless, we are committed at this point. Roth still has our stolen data and the plans for Sheena Island directly affects our goals. You admitted it yourself.”

The cable car shook and screeched, sliding to a halt. The light above the door turned green, and the robotic female voice told them to watch their step and have a good day. No, he would certainly not have a good day! He was having to deal with this and was about to meet a big rat in a stinky sewer. Didn’t the stupid voice know that? How insensitive!

“Yeah, I know. Guess we better be careful how we handle this.”

Wesker and William exited the cable car and walked side by side through the sewer facility. There weren’t many workers, but they all gave them a wide berth, keeping their heads down.

Wesker chuckled to himself, but William heard it over the water pumps and machinery.

“What’s so funny?”

“Just acknowledging that your prolonged bout of paranoia has made us change places. I’m usually the one telling you we need to be careful.”

They were both ruthless and ambitious, but Wesker had more patience and control. And although his back-and-forth stints of paranoia did make him more cautious, Will still hadn’t developed the patience or control that his partner had always had.

If only you knew why...what he’s making me do…

William frowned, rubbing his shoulder and quickly cleared his throat. “Well, no wonder you're so optimistic lately, taking after me. Like a little ball of sunshine!"

His partner didn’t respond to that, and William hoped it wasn’t because he had caught his nervous tic. In case he did, he quickly changed the subject. “So, did you get the kind of reaction out of Ada you were expecting?”

“More or less. I’m still annoyed by how you handled it though.”

“Look, you asked me to bring Claire up in a way to get a reaction from Ada to see if your suspicions were right and I did just that! You’re welcome, by the way!”

They reached the monitor room where they were meeting with Chief Irons. William entered first, and the Chief immediately noticed him, an Umbrella mercenary on each side of him. His pudgy eyes squinted testily and he opened his mouth to start his usual complaining. That is, until Wesker entered right behind him. His mouth quickly snapped shut. Ah, the benefits of having Al around!

Irons glanced around the room, his usual air of arrogance belittled and squashed like a bug. But there was nowhere to run in this room, nothing to protect him. He was at their mercy, but the tough-as-nails Irons wouldn’t be one to break so easily.

He half-laughed, half-snorted, attempting to cover his discomfort. “Now this must be a special occasion if you're both here. Rumor has it when you two are together, someone's going to die...or wish they would."

"Well, funny thing about rumors, Brian," William smirked. "There’s always some truth to them."

It was fun seeing the color drain from his face only to completely flush red like a cherry. He glared their way, fists forming tightly at his sides. "Oh yeah? And how exactly am I on you two assholes' shit list today? Considering all I do is cover your goddamn tracks and provide you with security all hours of every fucking day. Wait, don't tell me, you two have a rehearsed good cop, bad cop routine just for me?" He laughed. "No thanks."

Will nudged Albert. "Damn it, he guessed it! Wait, am I bad cop this time? I forget?"

"I'm always bad cop."

"No fair! We should take turns!"

Irons rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. "Just get to the point of why I'm here. If we're negotiating new deals, it's a bad time. I'm a busy man, after all."

"Funny you should mention that, Chief," Wesker sneered. "We're done negotiating with you."

The Umbrella mercs pulled their guns on the Chief. Irons froze on the spot, eyes bulging and going to the trained weapons, and this time he turned a bit green.

“Listen, Albert...let’s not get too hasty. Let’s talk like gentlemen. I-I’m sure we can come to an agreement.”

His resolve was cracking slowly, but William wouldn’t count the bastard out just yet. Irons had grown complacent in his position, taking advantage of anything he could get his grubby hands on. William and Wesker had allowed much of this behavior to slide in the knowledge that Irons would eventually get himself into a bind. And that’s where he was now.

“Of course, Brian. I am a sophisticated man, after all. Take a seat.”

The Chief of Police looked relieved at that and pulled out a chair and sat down. The Umbrella mercenaries stood at his back, guns still aimed to the back of his head. William and Albert sat down across from him.

William slid a sealed yellow envelope across the table to Irons. “Open it and take a good, hard look, Brian.”

Irons wiped his mustache, a little sweat forming on his brow. He slowly opened the envelope and sifted through the contents. Each page he flipped through he grew a shade whiter, until he was pasty like a ghost.

“What the fuck is this?”

William leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head. “Oh, I don’t know. You tell us.”

Irons trembled in his chair, both from anger and fear. He flushed again, one fat fist crinkling a page and he quickly stood. “You fucking bastards!”

One merc’s gun barrel pressed into Irons’ skull and he quickly remembered his place. He slowly sat down. He sure was sweating a lot now!

“You put yourself in this situation, Brian,” Wesker stated. “You know I keep tabs on you and yet you got sloppy. Arrogant, too, thinking you’d be able to set me up.”

“Your sick fantasies with the mayor’s daughter will be released to the public. Your replacement has already been chosen. You will die,” William continued.

“No! No, please! We can come to an agreement!”

“There are no more agreements to come to, Brian,” Wesker growled. “Just two choices. You can die like William so eloquently stated or you can sell the remainder of your pathetic soul to our cause.”

And unsurprisingly, the Chief went with the option that kept his sorry ass alive. “Deal! You got it!”

“And just so we’re clear. That -” William motioned to the envelope. “- never goes away. This is your last chance. Next time...well...there won’t be a next time. Just you dead and your dirty secrets exposed for all to see. Never forget how replaceable you are, Brian.”

Irons slowly nodded, guarded. “And exactly what are you two going to want me to do for your “cause”?”

“You will still perform your normal duties for Umbrella, and only report to me,” Wesker explained. “But if William and I tell you to do something, you do it. Even if it goes against your orders from Umbrella.”

“Fine.”

“William will be taking over as your handler. You should thank him. It was my intention to kill you tonight and he convinced me otherwise. If he asks you to perform in the circus, I expect you to clap your flippers and balance that ball without any disinclination. Do I make myself clear?”

Irons ground his jaw and stiffly nodded. “You always do, Albert.”

William sat up a little straighter, a haughty grin spreading. Albert’s protectiveness of him always gave him a feeling of empowerment, feeding his ego, and made a darker part of himself more bold, more ambitious.

“Don’t worry, Brian,” Will said with a fake, friendly smile. “You do a good job and stay on my good side, I always pay really well, way more than Al does.” He added a postscript after seeing the Chief’s interested grin. “Get on my bad side, however, and you’ll be my newest experiment...just ask Lowery.”

The Police Chief’s relief was short-lived. The mention of Lowery’s name struck something in him. He scowled, stiffening once more, looking between the two partners in crime.

“So you two were behind what happened at the university?”

“Oh yes,” William bragged. “Which is partly how we found out about your little attempt to set up Albert.”

“Which brings us to our next order of business, Brian,” Albert added. “Who was with you when you met up with Aaron Roth?”

Irons shook his head, hands on the table, still aware of the guns at his back. “Look, Lowery and Bard paid me to keep their business dealings hush-hush. I think they were trying to coerce Mueller into selling key information on his project in exchange for getting some crucial research going down on some island.”

Will sighed. “Don’t make Al repeat himself, ya idiot.” He snapped his fingers. “His name? Who is he?”

“S-Some bigshot from Europe who works on this island. He’s partners with Roth, buying and selling research within Umbrella and other companies. Goes by Stefan Bennett, but I couldn’t tell you if that’s his real name or not.”

When Will glanced at Al, a subtle flex in his shoulder was all he needed to read him. Bennett wasn't anyone known to them.

"Where are they hiding out?"

Irons shrugged. "Don't know. I'm only being paid for their meetings. Bennett will be at Bard’s annual Christmas party. I don't know if Roth will be there. He acted like he had other plans."

Like selling my research, the bastard...

"Then I suppose a meeting with Nathaniel Bard is in order," Wesker announced, sunglasses glinting under the fluorescents as he looked to William with a dark grin.

William returned his partner's smirk. "Yeah...It's party time."

(photo by IsmaelUchihaSan)

It was the perfect day for Jill to be off, or not have her shift until the evening anyway. Late morning, while Chris was stuck at the RPD, the girls enjoyed a light brunch and lattes at a quaint coffee shop before doing some last minute Christmas shopping.

Claire always enjoyed hanging out with the older woman. They had a lot in common and Claire was always learning something new with her company. She often found herself wondering if her oaf of a brother would ever romantically ask Jill out. It seemed like everyone could see it but them. Then again, perhaps they didn’t pursue their feelings because of their careers. Claire didn’t know the policies of STARS, but there might be restrictions there.

The two of them picked up Claire’s gift she had bought for Chris and took it over to Jill’s house. The box was tall and rectangular, about the size of a small adult. Though bulky, it wasn’t as heavy as it looked, and with each of them on one end, was able to carry it easily into the home.

They were greeted by Jill’s overly affectionate golden retriever, Bella. Claire flopped onto the floor to properly greet the fluffy, blond dog. Jill giggled at the sight.

“Hell of a guard dog, ain’t she?” Jill joked. “She’ll lick you to death.”

Better than getting my throat ripped out by Wesker’s dog…

Claire pushed aside that unpleasant memory and stood back up. Hard to believe that was only a few days ago. Her hand was already a lot better, but her ankle still hurt like a bitch.

They carried the box into Jill’s other bedroom that doubled as an office and home gym. The STARS Alpha member’s house was a three bedroom, two bath. She assumed the third bedroom was a guest room, but Claire wasn’t sure. Chris’s house was a bit bigger, with three bathrooms. They had their own in their bedrooms and then the guest bathroom in the hallway.

“Thanks for keeping this here for a bit, Jill.”

“No problem. I guess my home is the popular choice to hide gifts. Chris has yours here as well. I’m just waiting for Barry to ask to keep the girls’ gifts here, as if they don’t have enough space in that big house of theirs.”

“Well, you know how Moira is. She gets into everything. They can’t hide any gifts from her! She’s gonna be a handful as a teenager!”

They laughed and returned to the living room, Bella trailing behind them. Jill fetched them some water and the girls took a load off on the sofas.

“The punching bag was a good thought,” Jill declared. “I know Chris has been wanting one.”

Claire nodded, smiling as she watched Bella carry around her favorite plush duck toy. “Yeah. He’s been really wanting to start bulking up more. Although when we were playing on his guitar last night, I realized he needs a new toolkit for it. So I might have to go pick up one of those as well.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot you play too. Why haven’t I got to see you play yet? I’ve watched Chris lots of times.”

Claire shrugged. “I guess we just never think about it when I'm visiting.” The Redfield siblings didn’t mind playing guitar in front of others, but they cherished playing together, reciting notes and melodies their father had played for them when they were young. “Chris told me you played piano? I need to see that!”

Claire didn’t get the piano at all. That was entirely different from the guitar.

Jill softly laughed. “Yeah. It’s ingrained from childhood. Had the meanest instructor ever. Chris jokes that playing the piano won’t ever do me any good, and suggests I learn something else.”

“He’s just jealous,” Claire joked.

Jill laughed at that. “He totally is. You know, I’m happy you two reconciled so quickly. Chris can be so stubborn sometimes.”

“He can be, but I’m not one to talk. Whatever you said to him, it must’ve worked. So thank you for that. I know he’s just trying to look out for me, but it gets old. I’m an adult and can take care of myself.”

The older woman furrowed her brows and shook her head. “It wasn’t me.”

“Huh? It wasn’t?”

“No, it was the Captain.”

Her heart flipped, twisting her lungs to where she choked on air before she could take a drink of her water. It took all in Claire’s power to keep a straight face and feign something catching in her throat. “I’m sorry?”

“The fight you two had upset Chris a lot, affected his performance when we were doing some training. I guess Wesker picked up on it. Apparently, they took a long lunch together, and the Captain helped Chris get his head straight. At least, that’s what Chris told me later.”

Claire was completely freaked out by that information but hid it, wiping her suddenly clammy hands on her pants. She drank half of her water in one gulp and squeezed the bottle so hard it crumpled in the middle.

“O-Oh, I figured it was you.”

“Not this time,” Jill answered. “But it wasn’t without a lack of trying. He just didn’t listen. Not until he had gone too far anyway, the ass. At least Wesker got through to him.”

“Yeah…” she cleared her throat and stood up. “Well, I should get going. I don’t want to take up all of your free time and I have some studying to do. Thanks for helping me pick that up and letting me hide it here.”

It was partially true. Claire didn’t want to take up all of Jill’s day off before she had to go in for night shift. But mostly the recent news had unsettled her and she needed to gather her thoughts on the matter.

Jill smiled, nodding as she patted Bella on the head as the retriever’s big brown eyes stared up at Claire with that duck still in her mouth, tail thumping hard on the hardwood floor.

“No problem, Claire.”

“Stay safe tonight, Jill.”

“You’re not on the schedule...again.”

Ada sighed, crossing her arms and looking at the guard like he was stupid. He was. “I know that. But that won’t matter. William will still see me.”

The guard shifted uncomfortably, studying her suspiciously and then glancing at his list again. “Dr. Birkin is an extremely busy man. He’s been doing important tests all day and asked me to not allow anyone but Mrs. Dr. Birkin and Dr. Wesker entry. I’m sorry, ma’am.”

“I’m here on behalf of Albert. He’s busy at the police department currently. Just give him a ring and you’ll see.”

The guard hesitated, thinking and unsure. Clearly, he was scared to disturb his boss in the middle of his important work.

Ada smiled flirtatiously at him. “C’mon, Johnny. Help a girl out? It’s important.” She winked.

Johnny sighed. “Oh, alright.” He put a hand to his headset. “Dr. Birkin? I’m sorry to bother you, but Ms. Wong insists on seeing you. She says she’s here on behalf of Dr. Wesker.”

The spy didn’t miss how the camera up in the corner of the hallway turned down their way, aiming the attached machine gun right on their faces, blinking red light a far deadlier version of Candid Camera.

“Yes, sir. I understand. Will do,” Johnny said into his headpiece. He nodded at Ada and stepped aside. “You may enter. But please, keep it short. He has much to do.”

Ada waved him off. “Thanks, Johnny.”

She went through the automatic door, was sprayed down again, and strolled through the large, multi-room laboratory. She turned a corner, saw bright yellow and outstretched arms, and, on reflex, kicked the thing away from her.

“Ow!” came a muffled voice.

“Will, you idiot. Don’t sneak up on me like that,” Ada snapped.

The mad scientist pulled the hazmat suit’s helmet off, waddling over to the nearby safety station to strip it off and hang it up.

“I think that’s the closest I’ve ever gotten to scaring you!” William laughed.

Ada crossed her arms, glaring at him. “You didn’t scare me. You didn’t even startle me. You mildly annoyed me.”

“Ugh, you sound like Al. One day I will scare him. It’s on my bucket list. It might get me killed, but imma do it!”

The spy shook her head. “I don’t know about you sometimes.”

Birkin seemed extra...quirky today. He had an extra bounce in his step, grinning, humming as he left the safety station to his main desk. That’s when Ada noticed numerous empty energy drink cans and half a cup of cold, forgotten black coffee.

“How many of these have you had?” He did kind of look like one of those zombies Ada had seen being dissected in the Arklay lab, pale skin and dark circles under his eyes.

“Uhh…” he pondered, counting on his fingers as he twitched and quivered restlessly. “Five? I think?” He flopped down in his chair, shifting it side to side.

Ada leaned against his desk, glancing at the disorganized paperwork strewn about. Her sharp eyes caught many interesting and familiar things: G-Virus, Plant 43, Hunter Beta, Cerberus, NE-Alpha parasite, Lisa Trevor, T-Virus Epsilon. Then her eyes caught the interesting things that she had only seen once and was curious to find out more, now with associated words that intrigued her further: Prototype Virus, Project W, eugenics research, Progenitor, Ndipaya.

She had only a few seconds of absorbing these words before William snatched up the two papers that had anything on it. She watched him open his safe and put them inside, only accessible with a scan of his hand.

Ada acted like none of it interested her. “Five, huh? And how long have you been up, exactly? You look like shit. You smell like shit.”

William lifted his shirt and smelled. “I don’t know, when did Al and I go talk with Irons?"

“That was yesterday morning.”

“Oh...shit. Well, it’s been over 24 hours then.”

“I can tell.”

“So, how’d it go with Mueller?”

“As well as you’d expect. I’ve already relayed the info to Albert. Mueller won’t be a problem. In fact, he’s willing to help if it gets rid of Roth. I guess he feels scammed by the trade.”

William smirked, still swiveling slightly side to side in his chair. “I bet he does. Well, with Lowery no longer having a tongue and Irons and Bard put in their places, looks like we might be able to wrap this up by Christmas!”

Ada rapped her nails on the desk, frowning. “Albert told me the plan. Look, between you and me, I gotta ask...what’s the deal with him and Claire?”

Will chuckled. “What’s wrong? You jealous?”

“In your dreams. It’s just that...I mean, I don’t know the girl,” she lied. “But I thought he was just using her to get to Roth. Why have a fling with her? He doesn’t do that...at least not with just anyone.”

“You sure are a curious little kitty,” William half-joked, half-warned, leaning back in his chair. “What are you hoping to use this knowledge for?”

Ugh, she hated when he was an asshole. Then again, he was protecting Albert and so she should’ve known better. The spy sighed. “Fine. I’m just a little worried about Claire, alright? Can you blame me?”

She knew how Wesker worked. Claire was in way over her head. Didn’t matter how smart and strong she was. Despite being his type, she was still different than most and he did seem to have some kind of soft spot for her. And that is what both bothered and intrigued Ada.

“It’s not like you to worry about others like that. And I can blame you, actually. You got yourself tangled with Al. That’s on you.”

Ada bit her tongue. This wasn’t about her. “And poor Claire got tangled out of her control. C’mon, Will. I’ve helped you two a lot recently. Throw me a bone here. I deserve something in return.”

Will kept a straight face, thinking it over. Ada glared at him. Finally, the Golgotha creator grinned widely and leaned forward. Ada recognized the child-like delight, and knew he was about to spill the beans.

“Alright, alright! I think he has feelings for her.”

Ada laughed skeptically. “Whatever, Will! Tell me for real.”

She had to admit, she had thought something similar a few days ago when she spied Wesker nearly pinning Claire against his car. But she soon dismissed it. He definitely liked her and was attracted to her…but had feelings for her?! That was a little hard to believe.

“I do! He is obsessed, I’m telling you. The girl would’ve been dead a long time now had it been anyone else. He’s given her more chances than I’ve ever seen. He had the chance to pop her brother in the back without anyone knowing and didn’t do it! I don’t think he knows it himself, or he purposely keeps himself in denial, but...there’s something about her.”

Ada frowned, thinking it over. William had a point. All of Claire’s stunts to try and fight Albert should have ended with her dead a long time ago. And how her brother had been getting suspicious and snooping around, well, it should have ended the same with him by now.

“You think she reminds him of Anezka?” Ada asked.

Was that her name? Ada couldn’t really remember. She wasn’t around back then and had only heard all the different stories when she came here a couple of years ago.

“Nah...I mean they’re both redheads and feisty, but I don’t think that’s it. Anna jilted him, and besides being a little touchy over it, he’s moved on.”

“Is that really what happened?”

William shrugged. “I guess? No one really knows...not even Al.”

Ada wished she had been a fly on that wall when Anezka was still around. So many rumors and gossip about what happened. She practically disappeared, as though she was only a dream. But Albert remembered...resentfully. Ada knew him well enough that it wasn’t just his ego that got hurt. He actually had cared for her, and he hated that he did.

“Well, Albert’s given Claire all these chances to let her live. You think he will let her go when Roth is dealt with, as he has promised her?”

William scowled, leaning back in his chair. “What do you think?”

The double agent had no idea why, but her heart sank a little. As if she was hoping for something she knew better of. And here she thought her line of work had snuffed out all remaining optimism in her life.

“He won’t kill her. I guarantee it,” William boasted. “As obsessed and possessive he already is of her, she’s stuck. There will be conditions he gives her. I’m sure you know what those would be.”

“You sound happy about that,” Ada pointed out.

He shrugged, but the slight upcurve of his lips gave him away. “I like the girl. Sherry adores her. She’s proven to be quite resourceful and clever. She’ll be handy to have around. Besides, if Al actually has feelings for her, I gotta see where it goes! The geneticist in me really hopes he knocks her up.”

It may have sounded like a dark joke, but Ada knew the lunatic genius was dead serious. “I’m really disturbed by how obsessed you are with your best friend’s love and sex life.”

“I’m just looking out for him!”

Ada would never understand Wesker and William’s relationship. One of life’s greatest mysteries. But what was also another mystery still was why Wesker had feelings for Claire.

Was she the next Anezka?

She parked right down the road. It was already nearly dark, but at least the temperature hadn’t dropped too much. Claire stuck to the recently salted sidewalks, hands stuffed in her parka. Her heart pounded in her throat, and her mind raced with what he could want this time.

Wesker called her while she was waiting for Chris to get off work, summoning her to his house for an “important discussion”. She was anxious for two reasons. One, the last time she saw Wesker just a couple nights ago, they had sex. And two, after learning from Jill that Wesker was the one who dealt with Chris, she wasn’t sure what that meant for her or her brother.

She was queasy, butterflies in her stomach, but she wasn’t about to lose her cool. More than anything, she feared her body would betray her once more, a dark excitement coursing through her blood.

Upon reaching Wesker’s house, Claire spotted a vehicle she didn’t recognize in his driveway. She didn’t get too close to it, but it looked like a ruby-colored Porsche Boxster. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or not about not being alone with the STARS Captain, but she took a deep breath and rang the doorbell anyway.

After a minute of silence, anticipation eating at her, the door opened. Her heart skipped when those familiar grey-blue eyes and dark smirk greeted her. Her stomach twisted, but Claire couldn’t tell whether it was from disgust or excitement.

“Good evening, Claire,” he purred. He stepped aside to allow her entry. “Please do come in. I don’t want you catching a cold.”

She rolled her eyes and stepped inside. “Thanks.”

He shut the door while she looked around. Odin padded over and sniffed her, docked tail wagging slightly. But she didn’t see anyone who could’ve owned the car outside.

Wesker’s hands brushed up her back. The bad thing was Claire realized she didn’t blench this time. No, this time she shivered in pleasure. She inwardly scolded herself as he took her coat off to hang by the door.

“We have much to discuss, dear heart,” he said, one muscular arm locking around her waist and pulling her deeper inside the house.

That’s when the younger Redfield saw a familiar face come into the living room from the kitchen, carrying a full glass of red wine. She nearly blurted Ada’s name, surprised, but quickly bit her tongue, hiding any reaction. Wesker didn’t know that she and Ada had already met personally. And it needed to stay that way.

“I sure hope you weren’t saving that malbec wine for a special occasion, Albert. I helped myself,” Ada said. When her eyes landed on Claire, she was the perfect actress. There was no recognition, no subtle signs given to Claire. “Is this her?”

“The one and only,” Wesker affirmed.

Ada took a long sip of her wine and sat it down on a coaster on the center table before walking over to them. Wesker stepped away while the double agent looked Claire over, one arm crossed and one hand on her chin as she thought. She walked around Claire and even grabbed her arms and lifted them and spun her around.

“Hmm...Yes, I can definitely work with this.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Claire grumbled. Ada spun her around again and grabbed at her hair. “Hey! What’s the big idea?!”

“Hold still, hun.”

Ada withdrew a tailor tape measurer. She measured Claire’s waist, chest, and height, even her arms and legs. Afterwards, she yanked Claire’s ponytail out and felt through her tresses.

“What are you doing?” Claire snapped.

“Taking measurements,” Ada replied. “Trying to figure out what to do with your hair.”

“Why?”

“I’ll explain later,” Wesker stated. His Doberman sat at his side, head cocked curiously as Ada got handsy with her measurements.

“Okay, finished,” Ada announced, rolling up her tape and putting it in her pocket. She retrieved her wine and took another drink. “I’ll have something ready by tomorrow.”

“What ready?” Claire demanded. “What’s going on?”

Wesker’s lips barely curled upward. “Oh, where are my manners? Claire, this is an associate of mine, Ada Wong. She originally was to pick you up at the university. Ada, you know Claire, I’ve told you all about her.”

The Eurasian beauty dipped her head. “Charmed.” Still completely in character, although Claire now saw something subtle in her eyes as she stared at Claire. Perhaps a warning? Or just acknowledgement?

“You too...I guess,” Claire said.

Wesker chuckled, catching their attention. “You do not have to pretend to be strangers on my account, ladies. I know you’re well acquainted.”

Claire ground her jaw, glaring at him. Ada didn’t even flinch, expressionless. Taking another sip of her wine, she shrugged.

“Can’t pull the wool over your eyes, can I Albert?”

“Oh come now, Ada, don’t be that way,” Wesker teased. He obviously sensed something from her that Claire didn’t. He stepped around the agent’s back and, besides her tensing barely, she didn’t look disconcerted. “You knew the risks when you decided to meet Claire behind my back.”

Ada didn’t say anything to that. Wesker’s dark grin grew a bit more.

“I’m quite curious of your intentions. You’re not the jealous type. And you’re not one to have concern for others. So why so curious about Claire? I know this has nothing to do with what Sergei asked of you.”

Jealous type? Claire glanced between them, not sure what kind of undertones she was reading here. She was missing something, that’s for sure. She could only infer that Wesker was gauging Ada for something.

“I was just curious what you saw in her, I guess,” Ada dismissed calmly.

Cool under pressure. Just like the man testing her.

“And did you figure it out?”

Ada’s eyes locked with Claire’s. “I think so.”

Wesker’s soft chuckle told them he didn’t believe her one bit. “You and William should give up trying to find something that isn’t there.”

Ada didn’t have to say anything. Her smile told it all. She was pleased somehow, as though she read deeper into Wesker’s words somehow. Claire wished she would tell her the secret. And also shake this weird feeling in her chest.

“Am I going to get filled in here on why she needed to take my measurements?” Claire grumbled.

“Yes, my apologies,” Wesker admitted, his full attention on her now, and the younger woman regretted saying anything. “Ada, you may go now. I’ll fill Claire in…” He smirked.

Oh god. Did he just…? Her stomach pitched and rolled. She knew what would happen once Ada left them alone. In his house. It was an instant body verses mind battle.

Ada shrugged and walked away. Claire never wanted someone to stay and leave all at once before. But the Eurasian woman plopped down on one of the leather sofas instead, resuming drinking her wine. Odin left his master’s side to plant himself in front of her, as if expecting Ada to give him attention now that she was sitting down. Claire released a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

Wesker scowled. “Or…make yourself at home.”

“I will,” Ada answered nonchalantly. “I’m not about to let this delicious wine go to waste.” She made a show of swishing the red liquid around in her glass. The wine complimented her burgundy fingernails.

Claire caught the agent’s honey brown eyes as she looked right at her while sipping from her lipstick-stained glass, a coded message for her. You’re welcome…

Claire swallowed mixed feelings and glared at the STARS Captain. “So what exactly are you making me do this time?”

“Relax dear heart, it’s nothing you’re a stranger to. We’re going to attend a party.”

His stereotypical college girl jab aside, it sounded easy enough. But Claire knew better. Whatever kind of party it was, with Wesker involved, there would be danger, deception, and death at every angle…

Claire stared at the mirror, stunned. She wasn’t one to get dressed up, not this fancy anyway. Her red-brown hair was pulled up into messy curls with a few tresses hanging around her face. She had more make-up on than what she was used to. The jade-colored halter dress complimented her hair, eyes, and heels. She was only in the shoes for less than half an hour and her feet were already cramping. How did women wear these things all day?

The two assistants Ada had helping her with Claire were finally finished and departed from the big, spotless, and up-to-date bathroom. They were in Wesker’s living quarters in NEST. The younger Redfield tried not to think about what happened the last time she was here. Wesker and William awaited them in the very same room where she and Wesker fornicated, only having arrived a bit ago while Claire was still being made over.

Ada looked her over one last time, one final judgment for approval. Claire didn’t say anything. She really wanted out of this bathroom, but at the same time, she wasn’t ready for the next step.

Apparently, the crooked STARS Captain had meticulously planned tonight. Chris and Jill were working graveyard shifts while he was off and Claire had to tell her brother that she might would have to stay the night at William’s house babysitting Sherry if her parents had to work all night. All the chess pieces were in place so far. Bard’s Christmas party would last well into the night, and depending on how it played out, they might be there awhile. She could only hope nothing went wrong and would get to return home tonight.

“You’re a beautiful woman, Claire. There’s no doubt about that,” Ada said finally.

“T-Thanks.” She wasn’t expecting a compliment from the older woman.

She looked in the mirror again, distracted. This was a little too much for her, but she had to blend in with the other guests at the party.

“I won’t be surprised if Albert takes you home with him tonight after the party.”

Claire blushed, taken off guard, a near panic in her chest only broken by blood rushing like electricity through her veins. She turned to the double agent, holding her breath. Ada sounded so sure as she looked Claire over. As if she knew something the younger Redfield didn’t. Surely, Ada didn’t know…

“I know what happened between you two,” Ada admitted, reading her mind.

“He,” Claire started to blame her captor, but stopped. Could she honestly say it knowing she had decided to do it? Wesker may have manipulated her into wanting to, but she still chose it all her own, no matter how much she wanted to deny it.

“He what?”

She shook her head. “…Nothing.”

“I told you he always gets what he wants, didn’t I? He’ll make you want it, too. That tongue of his is far more deadly than any weapon he has on him. You have no idea how way in over your head you are, Claire.”

The college student glared at the Eurasian beauty. Was she serious right now?! “You’ve got it all wrong! It was just a one time fling. And as far as the rest of my situation goes, I think I’ve been doing pretty damn good considering!”

Ada sighed. “You’re clever, strong, and resourceful. You’ve handled yourself impressively this past week, but that’s partly why Albert’s so infatuated with you.”

Claire frowned, not sure what to say to that.

“Albert’s hardwired to manipulate and take advantage of anyone and anything he can. You give him an inch and he’ll hook his claws so deep in you, there’s no escape. You gave him way more than that.”

“So what? I’m trapped forever now? Is that what you’re saying?” Dread seized in her chest.

Ada looked to the door, as if suddenly paranoid Wesker and William could be listening in and slightly lowered her voice. “I don’t know. Look…yes, he’s using you to take care of Roth in exchange for your freedom, but William and I suspect that Albert may have developed…”

“What?” Claire urged when the agent trailed off.

Ada quickly shook her head, frowning. “Never mind. Just…keep your head. Do what you must to get Roth where Albert wants him for you and your brother’s freedom. Albert’s got a soft spot for you, he’ll likely keep his word if you’re good. As far as this affair is concerned, I cannot help you. That’s your business. My only advice is that you be careful.”

Soft spot? Where the hell was she getting that? There was nothing soft about that man. Then again, she and William, two people who knew Wesker best, kept saying that, so it had to be true to some degree.

Claire wanted to tell Ada that there wasn’t an “affair”. It was a one time slip up, a mistake, it wouldn’t happen ever again. But she couldn’t even believe herself, so there was no way she would convince the double agent.

“Ok…thank you, Ada. For everything.”

Ada exhaled through a small frown. “Don’t thank me just yet…” She turned, walking for the door and motioning for the younger Redfield to follow her. “C’mon, we have a party to get to.”

Claire inhaled deeply, gathering herself, and followed her out of the bathroom. They came into the den, where Wesker and William sat across from each other on the leather sofas talking. They were dressed in posh black suits. Claire berated herself for goggling Wesker. The bastard was so damn attractive anyway, but that suit was hot! She couldn’t believe how much it actually affected her seeing him in that outfit.

The men noticed them and stood up, but their eyes immediately went to Claire. She suddently felt exposed. William’s jaw dropped and he ogled too. The smirk that slowly grew on Wesker’s face as he took off his sunglasses to look Claire over was wicked. More so, it was hungry. He popped William’s mouth shut without taking his eyes off of Claire and closed in like a predator about to sink its teeth into its coveted prey. His eyes entrapped her, an instant, breath-taking spell, and then she was hungry too, felt it spreading through every inch of her body like wildfire.

Ada was right…Wesker would be taking her home with him tonight. And nothing was going to stop him.

[halfwall]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀❪ ⠀   * ⠀ ─          hello!  i’m  so  excited  for  this  genuinely,  it  is  so  seksi  and  socks  +  soda  did  such  an  amazing  job  with  it.  eunjung  is  my  newest  muse  and  the  best  way  i  can  describe  her  is  if  you  took  a  garden  snake  and  aged  it  up  manually  in  the  sims  and  then  took  it  into  the  spore  game  and  gave  it  lips  and  made  it  a  predator.  in  other  words,  my  very  own  looks  like  a  cinnamon  roll  could  k-word  you  (  kiss?  kill?  your  choice  <3  ).  this  intro  is  a  condensed  version  of  my  goog  dooc  and  it’s  still  long  <3  pls  love  n  plot  w  me  anyway.  love  u  guys.

❪  kang  mina,  cis  woman,  she  /  her,  twenty  one.  ❫    i  can  feel  red  energy,  that  must  be  yun  eunjung.  the  third  year  print  journalism  &  international  relations  major  works  as  a  bookkeeper  at  the  house  of  the  lucky  gander,  and  is  known  around  the  manor  as  the  yellow  wallpaper.  i’ve  heard  whispers  about  how  they’re  critical  and  pedantic,  but  everyone  says  they’re  persevering  and  formidable.  i  don’t  know  what  to  believe...  but  with  cc  pulling  the  strings...

links:    google  doc,  pinterest,  stats,  wanted  connections.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

full  name  :  yun  eunjung

nickname(s) /  alias(es)  :  emma  yoon  (  english  name,  not  used  ),  tbd

age  /  dob  :  twenty  one  /  apr  18  ‘99

hometown  :  tbd  ,  oregon

current  location :  fortuna  ,  maine

ethnicity :  korean

nationality  :  english

gender  :  cis  woman

pronouns  :  she  /  her

orientation  :  bisexual

religion :  agnostic.

family :  yun  hajun  (  father,  alive  ),  han  minji  (  mother,  alive  ),  yun  eunsang  (  twin  brother,  status  unknown  ),  yun  sangjung  (  younger  brother,  deceased  ).

face  claim  :  kang  mina

language(s)  spoken  :  korean  (  first  language  ),  english

speech :  sharp  tongued.  she’s  a  lot  of  opinions  and  a  lot  of  things  to  say,  therefore  has  never  learned  how  to  phrase  things  in  a  way  that  would  deem  her  polite.  often  blunt,  she’ll  be  quick  to  rip  off  the  bandaid  and  just  say  what  needs  to  be  said.  she  doesn’t  speak  with  much  class  or  extravagancies,  rather  falls  toward  crassness  and  crudeness  due  to  her  upbringing.

hair  :  quite  dark,  a  nice  chocolate  in  the  sun  and  a  cool  onyx  in  the  dark.  often  tied  back,  though  eunjung  is  only  ever  seen  with  her  hair  in  two  distinct  styles:  tied  back  messily  or  let  down  naturally.  her  hair  falls  straight  as  if  it’s  been  flat  ironed.

eyes :  big,  round,  and  doe  eyed,  a  dark  brown  in  color.  quite  the  weapon  to  use  when  she’s  in  trouble  or  when  she  needs  to  talk  her  way  out  of  something  (  to  proclaim  innocence  ).

height  :  five  feet  ,  seven  inches.

build  :  lithe.  as  a  former  volleyball  player,  she  has  kept  her  shape  up  with  rigorous  conditioning  (  mainly  because  if  she’s  to  admit  it,  if  she  doesn’t  she  kind  of  gets  lost  in  the  walls  ).

tattoos  :  none  .

piercings :  only  earlobes  .

scars  :  multiple  from  surgeries  at  sixteen.

clothing  style  :  preppy,  thanks  to  her  settlement  money  and  her  own  personal  taste.  never  a  hair  out  of  place  due  to  her  perfectionistic  personality  and  nature,  though  if  you  catch  her  on  any  given  night,  you’ll  see  her  true  colors  shine  through  with  old  (  very  old  )  sweatpants  and  a  hoodie  that  has  someone  else’s  name  written  on  the  tag  in  hangul.

usual  expression  :  sour,  bitter  –  life  has  handed  her  a  poor  hand  and  she’ll  make  it  everyone’s  problem.  she  has  one  usual  expression  and  it’s  resting  mean  face;  not  the  kind  of  person  to  wear  her  heart  on  her  sleeve,  she  looks  the  exact  same  when  she  looks  happy  as  she  does  sad,  though  –  she’s  great  at  acting  and  lying  and  you’ve  never  lived  until  you’ve  watched  her  go  from  :|  to  :)  in  two  seconds.

distinguishing  characteristics  :  doe  eyes  that  scream  tragedy  –  reflecting  the  stars  in  the  night  sky  if  caught  just  right,  the  tilt  of  her  lips  when  she  clearly  wants  something  to  work  in  her  favor.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

❪  almost  directly  copied  from  my  google  doc  i’m  sorry  ❫ 

mbti:   istj-a,  the  logistician  /  most  who  know  her  would  assume  her  to  be  extroverted.  not  the  most  reserved  in  a  room  and  always  quick  to  speak  up  when  she  deems  it  necessary.  but,  like  most  logisticians  –  she’s  always  had  a  sharp,  fact-based  mind.  she  has  always  been  self  sufficient  and  hates  relying  on  others,  often  seeing  it  as  a  weakness.  she  is  sharp,  dedicated  and  ambitious  enough  to  accomplish  whatever  she  wants  to  accomplish.

enneagram:  6w5,  the  guardian  /  like  most  of  this  type,  her  biggest  fear  is  losing  her  guidance  and  stability,  which  translates  into  her  skepticism  of  the  world.  therefore,  it  often  leads  to  eunjung  protecting  those  she  is  loyal  to,  but  most  importantly:  herself.  she  will  often  think  logically  and  analytically,  solving  problems  practically  and  efficiently  but  she  will  often  be  selfish  and  can  come  off  as  cold  as  a  result  for  her  actions.

moral  alignment:  chaotic  evil  /  eunjung  has  never  been  the  most  –  angelic  person,  though  she  likes  to  pretend  she  is.  at  the  end  of  the  day,  after  everything  she  has  been  through,  she  has  grown  to  be  selfish  –  prioritizing  her  own  personal  gain  and  pleasure  above  all  good  and  evil,  right  and  wrong.  it  could  be  argued  that  she  belongs  in  chaotic  neutral,  but  she  has  no  care  for  law  and  order,  nor  a  real  feeling  of  her  morality  anymore.

hogwarts  house:  slytherin  /  another  reminder  of  her  selfishness  and  how  much  she  cares  about  her  own  well  being.  all  her  life  as  well,  she  has  been  told  that  she  is  shrewd  and  too  ambitious  for  her  own  good  which  has  only  given  her  an  incessant  drive  to  prove  them  all  wrong.  when  it  comes  down  to  it,  like  most  slytherins,  she  will  try  to  view  every  possible  outcome  until  she  finds  the  outcome  that  will  benefit  her  the  most.

comparable  characters:  juliet  capulet  (  romeo  &  juliet  ),  jennifer  check  (  jennifer’s  body  ),  rosalie  hale  (  twilight  ),  blair  waldorf  (  gossip  girl  ),  sansa  stark  (  game  of  thrones  ).

the  rundown:  as  smart  as  she  is  selfish,  life  has  just  twisted  her  to  be  a  bit  cold.  she  isn’t  cruel  by  any  means,  nor  does  she  necessarily  wish  hurt  and  evil  upon  those  around  her,  but  eunjung’s  huge  main  character  complex  often  leads  to  her  priorities  being:  1.  eunjung  2.  yun eunjung  3.  eunjung yun.  her  biggest  trait  will  always  be  selfishness,  followed  closely  by  her  rash  belief  that  she  is  the  best  in  the  room  at  all  times.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐥𝐞

trigger  warnings:  alcoholism  +  death

this  is  a  rundown  on  the  biography  /  death  /  back  room  /  glass  person  in  the  google  doc,  also  better  written  /  explained  because  it’s  not  prosey  <3

hajun  is  not  a  good  father,  he  never  has  been.  from  a  very  young  age,  all  eunjung  has  heard  from  him  are  his  drunken  spirals  about  how  great  they  used  to  be.  his  surname  was  once  held  in  a  high  regard,  the  name  of  an  empress  and  he  has  always  dwindled  about  to  the  three  yun  children  that  because  of  the  greatness  he  has  passed  onto  them,  they  must  be  great  too.  

eunjung  has  only  ever  viewed  his  spiels  as  hypocritical  though.  she  has  only  ever  known  her  dad  as  a  mean  drunk  who  lives  in  the  dirtiest,  most  run  down  house  in  town  with  his  poor  three  kids.  her  twin  brother,  eunsang,  her  younger  brother,  sangjung,  and  her  spend  their  childhoods  taking  care  of  each  other  because  nobody  else  will.  their  mother  does  something,  they  never  know  what  because  she  only  arrives  with  enough  money  for  groceries  and  bills  and  then  she  leaves.

it’s  that  way  for  most  of  her  childhood  and  most  of  her  life.  it’s  a  continuous  cycle  of  eunjung  +  eunsang  taking  care  of  sangjung  (  who  starts  going  my  samuel  when  he’s  ten  and  the  twins  are  twelve.  the  twins  have  english  names,  too,  but  eunjung  has  too  much  pride  –  like  her  father  –  and  eunsang  is  the  eldest  and  will  do  whatever  his  twin  does  out  of  love  )  and  eunjung  is  just  –  quite  the  difficult  child.  she�� speaks  her  mind  and  all  of  her  opinions,  as  well  as  letting  the  festering  anger  within  her  too  grow  because  she  doesn’t  know  what  else  to  do  with  it.

death  tw.  anyway,  by  sixteen,  she’s  just  this  bitter  girl  that  the  boys  hook  up  with  because  she’s  the  poor  girl  from  the  dirty  house  on  the  rundown  street.  she’s  got  a  reputation  as  a  shrew  around  town,  but  she’s  fine  with  being  a  shrew  if  she  still  gets  her  way.  samuel  is  much  more  popular  than  either  of  the  twins  (  who  are  epitome  of  bad  boy  /  bad  girl  from  the  wrong  side  of  the  tracks  )  and  is  invited  to  a  party  at  fourteen.  it’s  tradition  to  party  in  this  abandoned  mansion  out  in  the  woods  and  basically,  an  accident  happens  and  samuel  is  pushed  from  the  second  story  balcony  into  the  foyer  and  d-words.

he’d  called  eunjung  before  dying  though,  asking  for  a  ride  so  the  twins  had  went  to  go  get  him  but  instead  found  him  dead.  while  trying  to  figure  out  what  had  happened,  she  spots  some  kid  that  doesn’t  like  her  still  lingering  around  so  she  tries  to  chase  him  and  he....  like....  pushes  her  off  too  and  she  d-words.  end  tw.

her  back  room  is  just  this  little  room  and  she  still  to  this  day  doesn’t  know  how  much  time  she  spent  in  there  because  it  was  just  so  confusing,  all  she  remembers  is  that  she  (  or  someone  )  was  trying  to  convince  herself  that  she  was  home  and  that  everything  was  fine.  but,  she’s  a  bitch  and  was  like  “uh,  actually,  i’ve  never  had  a  home  <3″  and  broke  out  of  whatever  spell.

her  glass  person  is  just  her.  identical,  but  trapped  in  the  walls  underneath  the  ugly  yellow  wallpaper  in  the  room  she  was  in.  same  as  her,  just  more  lifeless  and  it  is  really  the  only  thing  that  still  scares  her  –  and  it  tried  to  escape  the  walls,  but  it  couldn’t.  the  lasting  effect  is  that  if  she’s  alone  in  a  room  for  more  than  an  hour  she  swears  the  walls  start  stretching  like  someone’s  behind  it  and  just  always  feeling  like  she’s  being  watched.  she  also  doesn’t  like  looking  at  her  own  reflection  that  much  anymore  because  it  just  reminds  her  of  her  glass  person.

anyway,  she  survives  miraculously  and  after  testifying  and  blah  blah  blah  (  i  did  research  on  settlements  and  i  still  didn’t  understand  so  ),  the  family  of  the  kid  who  pushed  her  off  –  and  probably  samuel  –  gives  the  yun  family  a   huge  sum  of  money  for  their  troubles  and  calls  it  a  settlement.  it  comes  with  the  condition  that  eunjung  doesn’t  sue  or  bring  them  up  ever  again  and  she’s  like  fine  that’s  cool,  whatever,  i’m  rich  now.

but  her  parents  still  aren’t  happy  and  before  samuel’s  funeral,  eunsang  runs  away  from  home,  leaving  them  with  only  the  daughter  that  neither  of  them  really  wanted.  she  still  pushes  forward  though  and  ends  school  as  valedictorian,  prom  queen,  etc.  and  heads  to  fortuna  because  she  really  doesn’t  think  she  can  go  anywhere  and  also  her  counselors  are  ass  <3

she’s  studying  international  relations  +  print  journalism,  her  hopes  are  diplomacy  or  something,  but  she  just  chose  the  majors  that  she  tested  highest  on  on  that  career  test  i  can’t  choose.  yeah.

please  plot  w  me  i  have  my  wc  linked  up  there  or  at  /w.  i  love  u  all  i’m  sorry  this  was  long.