#content warning overdose

[fernsnailz]

i love reading your sonic loreposts i was wondering if you could please explain archie charmy to me, i have heard stuff and i am so curious but i am not a comics in general kinda person. the lsd poisoned friend or the brain damage literally just anything that happens to him your pick

hi anon i’m just going to go over everything that happens to archie charmy pre-reboot so i hopefully never have to talk about it after this. i'm sorry i'm so so sorry

Archie Charmy is subject to a lot of controversy and discussion because despite his limited role in the comics, he goes through some of the most batshit insane character and plot beats in the whole series (and that you’ve already mentioned). I’ll be skimming over some of the more boring parts, but the wild stuff I'll go pretty in-depth with.

I’ll also be attempting to explain WHY all of this happens to Charmy Bee of all characters, taking into account the context of the story, what was happening behind the scenes in the writer’s room, and even comic trends in general. I want to try and keep away from the very reactionary “wow archie sonic is sooooo crazy” discussion that happens around this stuff and hopefully provide a little more useful analysis. i talk about comic PSAs for a while so be warned

There are some very, very important content warnings that are coming with Archie Charmy lore: warning for non-consensual drug use and overdose (specifically LSD), child death, genocide, implied ableism, memory loss, implied age regression, breif homophobia mention (not related to charmy)

this is going to be a very long one. charmy lore under the cut

INTRODUCTION - CHAOTIX

Charmy Bee’s first appearance in Archie Sonic is in the Knuckles’ Chaotix special, which adapts the first game he appeared in. This issue introduces the entire Chaotix cast (six new characters) in a mere four pages, so Charmy doesn’t make much of an impression other than “bee who likes to explore and adventure.” He lacks that annoying little brother personality that he has in most Sonic media, and he’ll often speak with language that feels extremely out of character for the Charmy that most people know.

This is because this version of Charmy is based off of his character description from the Knuckles’ Chaotix game manual. Despite the series being based off of the video game franchise, the Archie Sonic writers were often given very little information about upcoming game releases from SEGA when they were asked to adapt them into the comics. Often they had to go digging for the canonical materials themselves - for example, the only way they were able to adapt Sonic Adventure into the comics is because Patrick Spaziante (one of the comic’s artists) had a Japanese version of the game that he bought himself. They had no English translation and zero guidance from SEGA, so they had to attempt to piece the story together without SEGA's help. This was the case with most of the game adaptations, and it was honestly a miracle that they had access to the manual for Knuckles’ Chaotix at all.

There’s just one problem: the manual for Knuckles’ Chaotix describes a version of Charmy that is very, very different from the one we know of today. It describes a 16-year old that is… sophisticated?

(sorry for the low quality, there aren't many images of the manual. also fun fact, there was no age for Charmy listed in the original Japanese manual)

Charmy's differing age and personality will lead to many, many problems, as the writers decided to give the “sophisticated” Charmy darker stories. This brings us to the Knuckles the Echidna mini-series.

The Knuckles mini-series is. Bad. Charmy Bee is certainly there for the first few issues (as are most of the Chaotix), but he doesn’t get much focus until issue 13.

I don’t know how to put this in a way that doesn’t sound extremely blunt: This is the issue where Charmy’s best friend overdoses on LSD and dies.

PART 1 - MELLO

Charmy's best friend is named Mello Bee. This is his first and last appearance in the series.

Mello started feeling strange on their return trip from Happyland, a sketchy theme park that recently reopened under new management. Charmy isn't sure why Mello died, but Constable Reminton (essentially the sheriff of Echidnopolis) reveals that there have been a series of cases similar to Mello's - cases where people were suffering from… Lemon Sundrop Dandelion poisoning.

The Chaotix go to Happyland to see if they can find the source of the poisoning, but what they don't know is that it's actually laced into the food. The manager of Happyland, Renfield T. Rodent, has been lacing the park's chili dogs with LSD in hopes of making everyone addicted to them. However, the amount of LSD he's been putting into the food is too much for most people to handle. This is probably the most insane paragraph I've had to write for one of these loreposts

Unknown to the Chaotix, they all start eating the chili dogs during their investigation (except for Julie-Su and Knuckles, who is absent) and start tripping balls.

Continuing the story into issue 14, Charmy’s LSD trip reveals that he’s actually the prince of a bee colony and has been running away from his responsibilities as a member of the royal family.

Charmy is knocked out for the rest of this arc as he goes through his trip - they have to operate on him and some other stuff happens I guess (Julie-Su gets thrown off of a roof, Knuckles fights some guys in a desert, Vector is a misogynist, stuff like that). At the end of issue 15, Charmy learns from his trip and returns to his family, temporarily leaving the Chaotix to return to his royal duties. Mello's family and his all mourn Mello's death and bury him back at their home.

So. What was the fucking point of all that

In the long-term, Charmy returning home to his family essentially writes him out of the story for a while. Knuckles the Echidna issue 15 released in 1998, and Charmy doesn't really return until 2001. While I'm not entirely sure what the reason for this was, there were so many members of the Chaotix that I honestly think this was an okay decision.

However, there's one very important question left to answer: Why was LSD and a drug overdose included in this arc at all?

When I first read this arc, I had a burning thought that I couldn't get out of my mind:

PART 1.5 - wait is this an anti-drug PSA?

(if you want to avoid me talking in-depth about the abilities of LSD and my ramble about comic PSAs for a while, you can skip to PART 2 where I continue the Charmy lore)

Comic PSAs (Public Service Announcements) and propaganda are a fundamental part of the medium’s history, whether it be to aid their country’s war efforts, give health information to their readers, or warn kids about the dangers of drug abuse. While a comic being used as a PSA isn’t inherently a bad thing, it’s usually VERY obvious. One of the most interesting ones I've found is a PSA that features Green Lantern debunking misinformation about the AIDS crisis. The image quality isn’t great, but the comic doesn’t hold back when talking about how the AIDS crisis is spreading homophobic ideology - if you read this, you know it’s a PSA and you know what message it’s trying to send. Sometimes propaganda can be subtle, but PSAs are usually loud.

(cw: homophobia)

This is why anti-drug PSAs are so common and so remembered - they’re over the top, they’re blunt (lol), and they have a very specific message they’re trying to send. For example, there’s an issue of New Teen Titans from 1983 that introduce a character called the Protector to teach kids about drug awareness where the issue literally starts with the Teen Titans in an auditorium telling kids about a dangerous drug. This issue also includes some bad trip imagery, and it’s uh… honestly i kinda love this

Anti-drug PSAs usually don’t work for this very reason - showing how a drug affects fictional characters can increase interest in the substance, and a single superhero telling someone to stop smoking is not going to break someone’s addiction.

So. Is Knuckles the Echidna issues 13-15 an anti-drug PSA?

Probably not, but if it is it’s doing a fucking terrible job of it

Some of the main factors of a PSA are the information it's presenting, the opinion it wants the consumer to develop, and the bluntness of its presentation. While this part of the Knuckles series is certainly over the top, the rest of these factors are really muddy. First, anti-drug PSAs usually don’t create a fake drug to replace the one they’re advising against. An anti-weed campaign will just tell you that weed is bad because that’s the opinion it wants you to walk away with. So when Knuckles issue 13 introduces a substance called “Lemon Sundrop Dandelion” and never actually refers to it as LSD, it’s less of a message about “drug bad” and more just a sly nudge and wink that goes “hey you see that? yeah, that’s drug.”

Then there’s the problem that there isn’t really much of a lesson to be had from these issues regarding drug use. Yes, Mello dies horrifically of an overdose, but most of the cast is able to walk off the trip like it’s nothing. Charmy needs to be operated on, but the doctors literally treat it like it’s fucking NOTHING

he's literally talking about how he told a patient that couldn't afford surgery to go to the butcher like HUH?????

In fact, Charmy’s trip seems to help him in the long run - he’s forced to face his past, and eventually returns to his family because of the literal guilt trip he has. It’s a fundamental part of his character arc.

This isn’t to say that I wish these issues were explicitly drug PSAs - I bring all of this up because these issues were released in 1998, in an era where the anti-drug movement was arguably at its peak. The people working on these comics would KNOW its content is similar to and even promotes the anti-drug movement. While I don't consider these issues to be an anti-drug PSA, they can definitely serve as anti-drug propaganda.

With this in mind, considering Knuckles the Echidna as a form of propaganda really opens up how utterly terrible these issues are. These comics can be genuinely harmful pieces of anti-drug propaganda because the way they use LSD to advance they plot is untrue to how the drug actually works and relies entirely on fear mongering. While LSD can be laced into other substances like drinks, it probably wouldn't last long in cooked meat - LSD usually degrades at higher temperatures, and telling comic readers that they need to be afraid of LSD-laced fair food is fucking stupid and likely based on false urban legends. Not only that, but Renfield T. Rodent’s plot to addict everyone to his LSD chili dogs is also fucking stupid because LSD is not considered an addictive substance. It can be extremely dangerous at high or multiple doses, but LSD does not normally lead to compulsive use.

I don’t talk about all of this to be a cinemasins guy or to nitpick a comic from 1998, and I also don't want to imply that PSAs can't spread lies and misinformation (anti-drug PSAs famously over-exaggerate things). I bring all of this up to show an ineffective and possibly dangerous use of something that could be considered anti-drug propaganda. Spreading blatantly untrue information and placing false fears into a reader’s mind is truly incompetent on the writer’s behalf, especially considering that this comic was targeted at kids. And that’s not even mentioning that there’s barely any moral to all of this. There’s no lesson and they never talk about this again.

Do I think this was all intentional on the behalf of the writers? I have no idea. I have no goddamn idea what they were thinking with this one, and I honestly don't think much thought was put into this arc at all. Maybe this was a strange attempt to make a Sonic-themed anti-drug PSA, maybe they were just inspired by the drug PSAs of their time when writing this, or maybe they just did not care. I don't know man. Anti-drug propaganda is stupid and it doesn't work and these comics drive me crazy

alright enough of that. let's talk about genocide

PART 2 - SAFFRON

don’t worry this part will be shorter (cheering and clapping)

Like I mentioned a while back, Charmy is essentially written out of the story for a while after the Mello incident. While living in the Golden Hive Colony, he reunites with another friend, Saffron Bee. Saffron becomes Charmy’s girlfriend, and they’re together for basically the rest of the comic. Usually if Charmy shows up, Saffron is there too.

(image of Charmy and Saffron I stole from... the Shipping Wiki??)

They eventually return to help Chaos Knuckles, a green version of Knuckles who is uh. Kinda going through it. Not much important Charmy lore needs to be discussed here, but some of his actions do eventually lead to him creating a genocidal villain that will cause many problems later. Don’t worry about it.

Things are quiet for a while for Charmy and Saffron. That is, until Eggman attacks their colony and wipes out most of its population.

Charmy and Saffron are the only survivors we see from the Golden Hive Colony. Eggman transforms the colony into a new base and traps its residents in an invention of his called the Egg Grapes - basically, he puts Mobians in these little pods that sap all of their life force, powering his empire. Most people do not survive the Egg Grapes.

The two bees return to join the Chaotix for a little while, and the rest of the Chaotix confirm that the Golden Hive Colony and its residents are truly gone. Espio destroys what’s left of the colony so Eggman can’t use it as a base, and no other survivors from the colony are found.

So. yeah what the fuck

Archie Sonic is known to have a LOT of characters - I’ve talked about the sheer number of echidnas the series has before, but there are a lot of characters that have massive extended families. The arc where Mello died introduced like eight new bee characters, but most of them were background characters that didn’t need to stick around.

Most people cite writer Ian Flynn’s debut to the series as when a lot of these unneeded/background characters were written out or killed off, and I agree since one of his objectives as a writer was to tighten up the story. However, the trend of “Archie background characters getting killed off or written out” started a little bit before he joined the team. There’s the destruction of the Golden Hive, and many echidnas in this arc suffer from the horrors of war - a number die off after Charmy and Saffron rejoin the Chaotix. yeah it's kinda fucked up

This is the second major arc where Charmy has lost people close to him - first Mello, and now his entire family and kingdom. The same goes for Saffron - they only have each other left. I mean the Chaotix are also there but still, trauma is trauma

How could it get any worse?

PART 3 - CHARMY

Remember how Archie Charmy is based off of the Knuckles’ Chaotix manual? The one that said he was sophisticated and 16?

This is about to cause a few problems.

At this point, it’s around 2007. The Knuckles’ Chaotix manual is terribly outdated, and most versions of Charmy within canon are 6 year-old kids. Charmy is known to be the annoying comedic relief, which is the exact opposite from how he’s portrayed in Archie Sonic.

So when SEGA asked writer Ian Flynn to change Archie Sonic to be like his video game counterpart, the solution was uh. well. it could have been handled better

Like how he obliterated the Golden Hive Colony, Eggman’s next target to destroy is Knothole, the city where Sonic and the Freedom Fighters all live. It’s a surprise to all of the residents, and he manages to teleport most of the population into his Egg Grapes. Before Sonic can save them, Eggman singles out Charmy to be used as an example of how the Egg Grapes work.

Sonic and friends manage to get Charmy out, but not before the damage is already done. In the limited amount of time the Grape sapped his life force, Charmy’s memory was partially wiped and personality changed forever. After this, Charmy has very little memory of the Golden Hive Colony at all, only seeming to remember Saffron and his friends. His becomes much more child-like, similar to his game counterpart.

the fucking sigh i just sighed

For clarification, Charmy is still 16. The only thing that was altered was his mind, with the intention to make his personality more in-line with his goofy video game counterpart. The problem is that giving a character brain damage to turn them into a comedic relief character is fucked up and unintentionally ableist.

This is something that writer Ian Flynn identified pretty early and openly regrets (I’m not sure what the source of that statement is, I’m assuming an episode of Bumblekast but I’m don’t know which one. I’ll edit this if I find it). Because of this, he mostly kept Charmy out of any comedic situations for the rest of the series. Charmy has a very limited role in the series after this until the reboot, only appearing sporadically and in one Sonic Universe arc. When he does show up, his childish demeanor is usually met with the patience of the Chaotix and their sad expressions.

Although the intention was to make Archie Charmy more like his game counterpart, in practice I honestly think this action only made Archie Charmy even MORE distant from his game character. From the Egg Grape incident to the reboot, Archie Charmy’s trauma never leaves my mind and leaves me feeling strangely hollow.

CONCLUSION - WHAT THE FUCK

I find the Archie Sonic series unfathomably fascinating. While I love the series, I can’t deny that most of the events I went over are poorly handled by the writing team and leave the series with such a strange legacy. With Archie Sonic, it’s often incredibly easy to see the biases of the writers and how they affect the characters and stories, leading to some genuinely fucked up moments that could have easily been avoided in my opinion.

Archie Charmy was really one of the characters that got it the worst, but it's honestly so strange that all of this happened to him specifically. The fact that all of this shit happens to a silly little bee is so, so Archie Sonic to me. Charmy is such a simple character to understand - he's a funny kid who's kinda annoying and hard to handle. So when I look back and see the 3,000+ words I just wrote about Archie Charmy... fucking hell why did i do that

In conclusion. I am sorry and do not become a comics person

thanks for reading if you got this far. as always let me know if i need to tag any other content warnings or if there was anything i got wrong! alright good night tristate area

[defiedfate]

give me reactions to Angel ODing in the studio and having a seizure.

[infernalinvert]

I am Once Again going through that thing where I'm looking back on my childhood and thinking "Oh that was actually REALLY FUCKED UP"

Like. How I thought my family didn't have healthcare for about 7 years, but I found out recently that we *did* actually have healthcare! It's just that, for most of that time, no one took me to the doctor. And the entire time, I thought I was helping by not asking for help, because we couldn't afford it.

And when I did ask for help, it was usually met with frustration and/or dismissal. So, I did tell my mom a few times that I had insomnia, and she just told me to try taking otc medicine that made you drowsy. So I did that. And then, as one of Baby's First Compulsions (and because it wasn't working, and because I had insomnia every night,) I started taking it every night, and then more of it, to the point where I was taking 10+ pills every night until it made me sick.

So in that case, I was actually *really really* lucky that I research things as a compulsion! Because even as a pre-teen, I looked up all the medications' side effects, and one of those medications was Acetaminophen PM, which causes liver damage when taken at above a normal dose! And I was a small malnourished child! So I *really* could've gotten hurt, huh!

(sidenote, I just looked this up, acetaminophen pm starts causing liver damage in adults at 4000mg, and is available in 500mg tablets. So it would take at least 8 pills to cause liver damage in an adult. Which is less than the quantity of pills I was taking, just of other medications. Also, in hindsight, I was probably taking entirely antihistamines. At least one of which was diphenhydramine. Which starts becoming toxic at 300mg, and is available in 25mg tablets, so that's 12 pills. Which is the amount of pills I took at least a few times. And I took more at least once. So uhhhh, also bad)

I forgot what I was going to say. Because I'm wondering if, that time I took like 14-20? pills and got sick. Did that count as an overdose? I didn't puke or pass out or anything, I just felt bad, and I went to school the next day. But did I overdose on antihistamines as a pre-teen and not seek medical care because my parents stopped taking me to doctors?

I'm beginning to see my circumstances growing up as a Real Thing That Happened To Me. I'm just worried about over-dramatizing things. I mean, I'm surprisingly not upset during this particular "wow that was fucked up" session, but it still feels like it should've been a bit more dramatic to be "real". I know that's what everyone thinks, even when really fucked up things happen, but it *is* possible to over-dramatize things. So I guess it just has nuance. So I don't know

[allwillienilly]

CW suicide overdose

Goretober day 5: overdose

Ella’s death :(

[acetylsalicylicacid2]

There’s a girl sitting beneath the sun and the sky and the stars and she wants to live. Oh, how she wants to live, to see a day when things aren’t breaking and there aren’t holes she needs to plug in order to survive. She waits for that day, puts one foot in front of the other, over and over, endlessly. Sometimes she wants to give up. Rather often, actually. But she can’t: there are people waiting for her, ready to wipe her tears away and tell her “the world isn’t burning” and “everything will be alright.”

There’s a girl sitting atop the soil and the sea and the stone and she wants to die. Oh, how she wants to die, to rip herself apart and dash herself against the boulder until she can’t feel her arms and her legs and the thoughts swarming over her brain. She wants it. Needs it even. Let go of her humanity and crash upon her enemies with all the fury of a raging god, blazing like a meteor as she falls. It’s all a dream, of course. A nightmare that courses through her veins, night after night, as she can’t let go. There are people who need her, after all, who would fall to pieces without her. And instead of dying she tells them “it’ll be alright” and “we can put out the fires” and wipes their tears away.

She’s carved herself into pieces, locking away tendons and fibers and lobes as each one fails her. She has no need for useless things, so she throws them away without remorse. They failed her and that was that. She wonders if that was a bad idea and sometimes she thinks so, but what else was she to do? Let the rot fester and spread to other parts of the machine? Better to quarantine, cleave, and cauterize now before the wound expands. If, one day, that comes back to bite her? Oh well. Her mechanics can shut down then, so long as they run now.

[shaisuki]

𝗟𝗢𝗢𝗦𝗘 𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗦

ft. bully! gojo satoru and geto suguru

content warnings college au, heavy bullying, gaslighting, noncon, dubcon, implied sexual assault, allusions to depression/suicide, alcohol consumption, drinking, implied drugging, fatphobia, overdosing, naoya zen'in is an asshole, humiliation, threats, minor oc character. dead dove do not eat.

notes this might come as disappointing since some of you wanting revenge what this two idiots had done to reader. their are some matters that i think is too complicated and impossible so i came with this way as the breaking point where reader starts to retaliate/plan her revenge. will get to it later and to that anon, who asked for the revenge, i will get once i start to finish this one up. please read the warnings, i don't want someone bitching in the comments telling me that the contents above is uncool. it truly is not cool. that's why it have warnings. it is on a fictional context. do read the warnings before continuing. also do let me know of what you think of this chapter.

read part one, here. two here.

SERIES MASTERLIST

synopsis you let them take and take what they can from you. you were a nobody after all but everybody have their breaking point.

the world is a blur to you. colors of red and blue dances in your vision while voices whispers to you. what's happening? you can't move. it's like your body were made of lead. you can't understand what they were saying. multiple faces stares at you, are you dead? is this what you see when people surround you while they lower your casket. is it? you hope it was, cause you didn't plan on living anymore. there's nothing worth moving forward and the world around you turns black.

there's a beep and then silence. you hear before you see and when you opened your eyes, all you can see is a bright light above you. it took you minutes to adjust your vision and realize where you are. you're in a hospital. laying on a bed and you started to get irritated at your oxygen mask. you tug at it. getting frustrated why it keeps coming back at you before someone put their hand on it. completely removing it and there you breath. your sight darted to the hand who helped you until your sight travels to his arms and then to his face. a brief recognition flashes through you.

“nanami?” you call his name unsure but you know it was definitely him. it was hard to mistake him for someone. there's his blonde hair, neatly parted. his pristine beige sweater paired a dark colored trouser, not a crinkle in sight and his signature silver watch in his wrist. you met him once at the literature club and decided you were going to be there too not until it changed due to some circumstances. his lips parted but before he can speak, a cheery voice interrupted him.

“she's awake!?” said haibara, you also knew him since he and nanami were always together. seeing your confused state, his voice died down. “what happened?” you asked them and they exchanged looks before haibara answers you.

“we found you passed out in the lawn. thought you were drunk but you weren't breathing.” haibara's voice was soft while he slowly breaks down the reason why you ended up here.

a doctor comes inside to your room before haibara can finish. you took note of her pristine white coat with her surname embroidered on it. clicking her pen and whipping out her clipboard she pulled out of nowhere. you were distracted by it. the doctor's eyes is on you now and you began to frown.

the doctor coughs clearing her throat before speaking. “hello, ms. (y/n). i'm glad you're awake now.” noticing your confused expression she pauses began answering the question. “to answer your question you were unconscious for two days and is brought for possible assault. we need your con—”

“no!”

“ms. it would help for you t—”

“you heard me!? i said no!” you scream at the doctor and your tears appeared in your eyes. you didn't realize you were screaming. nanami and haibara stand there in silence but the looks on their face said otherwise. concern painted in their faces and the doctor bows before leaving. looking at the men inside in your room to call her if you need anything.

cause if they would test you, they would find the remains of their sperm inside you and then report? who will believe you? it would be buried like the case of another girls like you who were too afraid nor fight their abusers. you don't find the point of that. they would twist the words out of you. it was easy to believe than you.

you curled up in bed and did the next thing you can. cry. now, you're in here and the events before this plays in your head in repeat.

“f-fuck”

satoru curses out while suguru bites your ear. your body like jello as they spilled their load for the nth that day. both of them lowered your body after fucking your brains out. warm up, they say. you shiver as you feel their cum running down your thighs. feeling disgusted as it began to stick after being exposed to the air. you grab the wipes but suguru stopped you, grabbing it from your hands and cleaning you up. fixing your skirt in the meantime.

“worth every penny.” suguru mutters. staring at the new clothes they bought for you. a baby blue corseted puff-sleeved, square neck top matched with a black skirt that rests on your mid thigh is what they forced you to wear. it feels tight. intentionally buying it one size smaller than you usually wore and it more feel you like a stuffed sausage rather a comfortable piece of clothing. you can't say no to what they wanted. you're a bit of grateful that they allowed you to wear your white sneakers rather than those kitten heels that would put your feet in blisters.

satoru's fingers brushes through the expanse of your exposed flesh. playing with the small bow in your top. sighing, “suguru, can we have more with (y/n)-chan?” his best friend chuckles at him. “idiot, we're already running late, after that we can.” satoru pouts. “tch, party pooper.” he ignores gojo and moves his attention to you.

“smile, this is your first real party. you're going to enjoy this.” suguru lifts your chin up with his finger and you obediently nodded. “ditch and you know what will happen.” he warns.

it was a bad idea. the moment you stood in the front door. the party was already in motion. you can hear the people inside shouting profanities and booming music mixed with already drunk frat members and student bodies. this was never really your crowd and when you were shoved inside with gojo and geto you were done and you already felt like crying. you look at the duo in front of you. they were already engaged in conversation with the other people here.

“gojo, you son of a bitch. you fucking came.” a guy hollered in the side and you see more of his features as he gets nearer. a snarl in his face with multiple piercings in his ear. a hair dyed blonde with green accents.

“ah, zen’in. wouldn't missed this just i could wipe that smirk off your face.” gojo mocks him and before the guy whom gojo called zen’in darts his sight to you. he raises a brow. “you two in fat bitches now?” pointing at you with hand cupping a plastic cup. gojo scoffs. “none of your business, zen'in.” glaring at him but he can't see that gojo's looking at him with dark glasses in the way. “then you two wouldn't mind me using her.” he suggested and suguru gaze darkens at him. “fuck off, naoya.” almost growling at naoya and the latter raises his hand in mock defeat before finding shit he could entertain himself with.

suguru scowls after naoya left, he looks at you like you just turned his mood sour. “you're an embarrassment.” he says and you bit your lip. keeping the tears at bay and you don't really want to embarrass yourself more at this party. “hey, hey suguru.” gojo taps his shoulder. “let loose, don't naoya get to you.” satoru glances at you. his blue eyes peering in his glasses. “you're right.” his stare cold at you. “find a seat, (y/n). you're embarrassing us now with you around.” you nod and you find yourself in a vacant corner. near to those already wasted or just plain chilling in the couch in front of you.

what did you expect? that were all sex talk or when they're in good mood. all those praise and compliments are just enough to feel you good about yourself for a bit and then they'll come destroying it. you stare at the view through the window. the night's particularly beautiful and peaceful except the place you're in and you're already missing the comfort of your bed.

you take a sip from your cup. a girl gave it you earlier saying that it's a special concoction that's only made at this parties. unsure you took it. not wanting to show ungratefulness to someone whose only been polite to you and she seems nice. you cringe slightly at the taste and the burning of the liquid as it flows down your throat. coughing you bring down the cup, not used to drinking.

your first time being a party, your eyes wander how your peers lost their selves in the influence of alcohol. some where dancing and mingling. talking like they were friends and you caught of others taking their business upstairs. you were kind of jealous how everyone are the life of the party and you sit here in your misery. you continue to observe everyone and you caught gojo. it's impossible to miss his tall stature and his white hair standing in the crowd. a petite woman is linked to him. her thin arms are wrapped around his neck and it was clear what they were doing. there they stood in the crowd. kissing.

“satoru.” gojo was taking a swig of his drink when a girl approached him. calling his name like they were lovers but it was more like an ex-fling. never had a relationship with her. she was only a temporary fun. “ah, sar—ah, sayuri.” he almost curses at himself. sayuri playfully pouts at him and there it is, the batting of eyelashes. “that's mean, satoru. you already forgot me.” her lips puckers before placing a hand in his chest. if this was a another party of gojo and he really liked this girl. he would have taken her upstairs. he caught you in the corner. you were like a child in awe at the people in this house. gojo almost chuckles at your cute antics but suppressed it and then a cruel idea pops in his mind. “missed me?” he asks sayuri and there was no answer needed as he crashes his lips to sayuri. his sight never leaving yours and when you caught him. he watch as your eyes widens, you lower your head in embarrassment before chugging that drink in your cup in one swig. he smirks in the kiss as he watches you wiped your tears away. he always liked making you cry.

you should have ditched this stupid party, even it means getting punished by those again. you were hurt. they always like to torture you. listen as they tell you how worthless and unlovable you are while they keep girls who are clearly not you by their side. those girls were perfectly fit for them to be seen in public and you were there for them to humiliate you. with your head lowered, you stifled a sob. wiping your tears with your hands shaking. they kept flowing and you kept messily wiping them and with that you slowly made your way outside. discreetly making your way through the door and you almost laugh. you were a nobody. you're not made for pretty things and this goddamn outfit you wore only added to your misery. you never felt beautiful and it looks ugly on you. wrapped a sausage with a different and it will still look the same.

no one noticed you leaving except for suguru's watchful gaze.

suguru finds his friend making out with a girl he definitely doesn't remember. suguru slaps his back and satoru broke the kiss. wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and ignores the girl he was just making out seconds ago. suguru points the door where you left earlier. you're really looking for trouble and with that they left following you.

sayuri was stunned being shoved aside again. she was angry. how the fuck did you get those two's attention especially gojo's? she's beautiful. she's thin. academically excelling and you, a fat nobody bitch easily made those two fall for you. she knows they were just playing at you and sayuri could take it but being shoved again by satoru isn't what she expected tonight. she's going to be satoru's bride. it was decided from the start and satoru knows it. their fathers friends since their college days had made a decision to marry their son and daughter before they were even born and she did everything she can just to have satoru's attention but why can't she even get to look at her without her trying. it's your fault. it's your fucking fault! you deserve to die. you're fucking stupid for accepting that drink like you're a fucking saint and now, maybe you'll rethink your choices of making those your own and satoru will only have his eyes for her and only her.

weird. why are your hands sweating? it's cold. freezing cold. you know this temperature at night is normal but why are you freezing cold. hah, your vision's starting to get funny too. where there always stars in the sky? ahh, i want to go home. i wonder if akira's still awake. i didn't told her that i was going away tonight. my eyes hurt. you were crying. this was your thoughts as you walked away.

it was to easy to catch you with their long strides. satoru grabs your flabby arm angrily. “we told you, you don't leave without us. do you really want to get punished, (y/n)-chan?” his voice snarky as he digs his nails in your arms. it hurts. it really must really hurt but you're suddenly numb to feel anything. you just stare at him in confusion and then you hear voices. they were calling them to get back.

gojo scowls at them. your knees buckled and you sat in the ground. geto tsked. “we're going back to you later.” he says and they left you there and there were loud cheers. you lay there in the ground. numb and your vision fades away.

you blinked as you stare in the nothingness. that's what you last remembered. they left you there and you hoped you died. you can't take another bullshit of what they put you through. the tears continuously flows from your eyes and your blanket is wet with tears. haibara puts a comforting hand in your shoulder and you bursted crying again. this was the real kindness you felt since the accident. they didn't blame you. they only stayed and made sure you were resting enough. stranger they maybe or an acquaintance. you would never forget this kindness from them.

days. nights. you stayed in the hospital until you were cleared. you made nothing of what happened to you. putting it in the records as an allergic reaction in which the hospital agreed. just like that even when you're in the brink of death of what happened to you. if you took the procedure for assault. they would be guilty but it was days old now and bruises are left in your skin as nothing but reminders of the humiliation of what they did to you.

for now, you're going to cry. cry until there's nothing left to cry for.

[ohproserpine]

viii. deer dolly

see all chapters here tags: fem! reader, alastor tweaking, VERY heavy warning for violence and blood, overdose, murder, DEATH, hunting, VERY graphic descriptions of injuries, vox being painfully obvious, vox malfunctions (lmao L), drowning, flooding, mentions of glass piercing skin, a gun, threats of death, valentino warning, alastor's demon form

Alastor's head snapped to the side, with a sickening crack accompanying the movement

"Show me," he snarled, his voice taking on an inhuman quality, heavily filtered by radio waves.

Without hesitation, Angel gestured towards the billboard, his expression blank.

"Get in there, and see for ya'self."

.

A few blocks away, at the Vox Tower.

The heavy door before you swung open to reveal a diner. Chandeliers hung from the lofty ceiling, the crystals casting shattered reflections of light across the expanse of golden tables below. The centerpiece of the room was an expansive aquarium, its transparent walls housing sleek, metallic sharks that glided gracefully through the rose-tinted waters.

Vox guided you inside with a hand on your back, leading you towards a secluded booth. He was dressed in a neat, crisp royal blue suit, perfectly matching the attire chosen for you by Velvette. She had dressed you in a stunning cerulean silk dress that hugged your figure in all the right places. The fabric flowed gracefully as you moved, the long skirt sweeping across the floor with every step of your white heels.

"I didn't realize there was a restaurant tucked away in here," you whispered, your eyes widening in awe as you took in the glowing ambiance of the place.

"Well, we at VoxTek are full of surprises, my dear," Vox chuckled smoothly as he moved to pull back the chair at your table. "It's quite a diverse company."

"I see," you murmured, a sense of intrigue coloring your tone. Taking a step closer, you sank into the plush seat, a soft hum of contentment escaping your lips as you settled in. Vox pushed you in before taking his seat across from you. With a snap of his finger, he gestured for a nearby waiter to approach.

Once the menus were presented, Vox glanced over at you expectantly. "Feel free to order whatever you'd like, my dear. Consider it a treat for all your hard work." A waiter slid over a tablet for the bill, and Vox pulled out a sleek black card which he quickly swiped. "Take your time. We have all night to go over your contract."

Grateful for the gesture, you returned a smile before turning your attention to the menu, scanning the options while Vox took a sip from his glass of wine, the scarlet liquid swirling.

Before the moment could continue, however, a sudden wave of static crackled through the room, causing the tables to tremble, drinks spilling and tabletop decor tumbling aside as the lights flickered erratically. Startled, Vox choked on his drink, coughing as he accidentally spilled it on himself.

You looked around in worry, confusion furrowing your brow as you whipped your head around to assess the situation. A few of the patrons were talking amongst themselves in hushed tones, their concern mirroring your own.

"What was that…?" you asked, your voice barely audible above the din of the lingering static.

"Second fucking time," Vox grumbled under his breath as he attempted to wipe the wine off his crisp white dress shirt, but his efforts only seemed to smear the stain further across his chest. The crimson stain stark against the pristine fabric made it look as if he was just mauled.

With a resigned sigh, he abandoned his futile efforts and without a care in the world, tossed the soiled tablecloth back onto the table. Despite the mishap, he flashed you a reassuring smile.

"I'm sure it was nothing, my dear. Just a temporary glitch in the system. I'll have my workers look into it later," he said, waving it off.

Vox clapped his hands with a sharp, authoritative gesture, summoning a few waiters to swiftly clean up your table and retrieve the menus from your hands. They rushed over with a sense of urgency, their movements swift as they began tidying up the contents, the clatter of plates and silverware echoing through the air.

Meanwhile, a tall, slim blonde receptionist approached, her steps slow as she made her way towards Vox. Her slender fingers pushed her slim red glasses up on the bridge of her nose, accentuating the sharpness of her eyes as she addressed you both with a polite nod of her head.

"Mister Vox," she began, tapping a pen along her clipboard. "I have a few tables available for you upstairs. Would you like to transfer while we get the ground floor cleaned up?"

"Do that for us, will you?" Vox nodded, standing from the table with a sigh you couldn’t hear but could see in the slump of his shoulders. Straightening up, he brushed invisible dust off the front of his jacket and suit pants with swift, agitated motions.

"This day has been nothing but shit to me. The hell even was that?" Vox muttered under his breath as he glanced down at his watch, a luxurious 10-million soul bucks carat model he had allowed himself to purchase a few moons ago. "Alright. Time is ticking. Let's not waste any more time and move somewhere else, love."

With a nod, you followed suit and stood up, mirroring his movements as you prepared to leave the table. But before you could take a step, another round of static swept through the room, much stronger this time. The vibrations pulsed through the floor, causing you to stumble and grasp onto the table for support. The lights flickered and dimmed before abruptly going out, enveloping the room in darkness.

"What the fuck?" Vox snarled, the glow of his screen casting eerie shadows in the darkened environment as he turned sharply to the receptionist, the faint illumination of his face acting as a temporary flashlight.

"Get this checked out, will you?" Vox hissed.

"Of course, Mister Vox," the receptionist nodded briskly, maintaining her composure despite the chaos unfolding around her. Her pen scratched against the paper as she made a note of his request. "I'll have someone look into it right away."

"Satan. Alright, come on, doll," Vox called for you and slipped his hand into yours, interlocking them together with a firm grip. Reluctantly, you accepted his hand, feeling a sense of unease creeping over you as you followed him towards the staircase.

Together, you ascended the steps, the lingering sensation of static still hanging heavily in the air like an ominous fog. Another wave swept through the atmosphere, causing your skin to tingle with prickles and sending a shiver coursing up your spine.

Something was off.

The second floor was eerily quiet, devoid of the bustling activity in the ground floor. The subdued murmurs of the remaining patrons echoed faintly against the walls. You noticed that some of the only patrons left were already making their way down the stairs, their hurried footsteps punctuating the hushed atmosphere as they descended the glass steps.

As you scanned the area, your eyes landed on a TV perched high on the wall. Whatever show had been playing before was now reduced to nothing but static and glitches, its wires crackling with electricity like an angry serpent. Thin wisps of smoke curled up from the tangled mess.

"Doll?" Vox turned his head, catching your wandering eyes with a knowing look.

"I apologize for all this trouble, my dear, but worry not, everything will be handled in a jiffy," he reassured you, his thumb tracing soothing circles over your skin as he guided you by the railings.

Leaning his elbows against the metal, he took your hand into both of his, kneading and caressing it as he grumbled to himself. "If I knew this was going to happen, I would have taken you out another night."

"Well, there's no way you could have seen that coming," you muttered as you turned your gaze towards the ground floor. Below, various demons and imps scurried around, attempting to manage the chaos. With a shrug, you moved to lean against the railings, the cool metal soothing against your skin.

Resting your cheek on your free hand, you continued, "I mean, there's always another day. We can even hash out the contract right now."

At your words, Vox visibly deflated, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he cast you a dry look. "Always so professional, are you?"

"Yes?" you replied with a nod, tilting your head in genuine curiosity. "Is that bad?"

"No, not at all," Vox huffed, a barely concealed smile playing at the corners of his lips as he pulled you closer to him. "It's actually quite charming."

With a yelp, you stumbled into his arms, your hands pressing against his chest for balance. Vox leaned in further, his left hand coming to rest on your back, his touch gentle yet firm as he looked deep into your eyes.

"But would it be bad to say I wanted something more?" he murmured, a pinkish gradient tint glowing softly on his screen, casting a warm and inviting glow across his features.

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden intimacy. "Something more?" you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.

His gaze softened, his thumb gently tracing the curve of your cheek, his touch tender against your skin.

"Yes, my dear," he murmured, trailing his thumb down to press and part your lips. "Something… personal."

"I-I don't really get what you're telling me," you stammered, your heart pounding in your chest. As Vox leaned in closer and closer, you found yourself backing away until you could no longer retreat, your back arching dangerously over the railings.

"Then perhaps it's best if I show you," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath, as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box.

Popping the lid open, a familiar golden band sat inside, glimmering softly in the dim light of the room. Your eyes widened with recognition, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"My ring," you gasped, your fingers trembling slightly as you reached out to pluck the precious jewelry from its box. However, your hand halted in midair as you noticed an unfamiliar engraving gleaming on its honey-colored surface. A wavy symbol was etched onto it, its silver detailing standing out against the smooth gold of the ring.

"Vox, what's… what's this?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly as your eyes darted back and forth between the two sights. You could feel a hot fire starting to coil in your gut, your skin already slowly cracking. "What'd you do?"

Vox's expression remained impassive for a moment before softening with a touch of vulnerability. "It's a symbol, my dear," he explained, his voice gentle as he slowly took your hand and raised it to his lips. "A symbol of our… partnership."

"Partnership?" you echoed, your eyes tracing the movement of his lips as he pressed a gentle kiss to your fingers.

"You'd make a good wife," he blurted out, catching you off guard. Your gaze shot up to meet his, wide with surprise, as his declaration hung in the air between you. "I could provide for you. I could make you happy. Give you anything, anything you want."

A clawed hand, its digits tipped with sharp, pointed nails, delicately plucked the ring out of its velvet cushion. Taking your hand in his, he gently slipped the ring onto your finger, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. Before you could even process what had just happened, a wave of static washed over the room, crackling through the air like tiny bolts of lightning, causing him to curse under his breath.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he growled.

The room trembled again as another wave of static hit, this time with greater intensity than any of the past waves. The floors shook beneath your feet, the building groaned in protest, and you stumbled forward with a gasp, your knees buckling under the force of the tremors. Desperately, you reached out to grab onto Vox for support, clinging to him as the world seemed to tilt and sway around you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed the receptionist stumbling toward you both. Her calm demeanor had vanished, replaced by frantic movements and panic in her voice.

"Sir, sir!" she huffed, her words punctuated by labored breaths as she stumbled to her feet. Her hair was disheveled, and her clothes were torn. "The building is under attack!"

"Attack?" Vox scoffed out in disbelief, his shoulders shaking from his laughter. "Who in Lucifer's name would even think of crossing me?"

The receptionist shook her head vigorously, her eyes wide with terror, strands of her disheveled hair clinging to her sweaty forehead.

"The radio demon," she rasped out, her voice barely above a whisper, laden with fear.

You froze, your hands shaking as they moved to cover your gaping mouth. Another wave of static shook the building, but your thoughts were scattered, unable to focus amidst the chaos.

Vox's grip tightened on you and the handle of the railings, his claws raking against the metal with a sharp scrape. His expression slowly shifted, the laughter fading as a dangerous seriousness settled over him. He took a deep breath, shutting his eyes briefly before looking back at the receptionist with a dark glint in his eyes, a storm brewing within him.

"What did you just say?"

Before a response could be made, an explosion thundered through the floor, sending debris and dust swirling through the air. In shock, you watched as tendrils of inky shadows began to writhe and thrash, lashing out and slamming into the walls with bone-shaking force.

A particularly powerful tendril crashed against the aquarium, its force shattering the glass and unleashing a deluge of water that flooded down through the ground floor, drowning the patrons below. The sharks were caught in the torrent, their powerful bodies tossed and thrashed about as they were swept away.

Another tendril snaked its way through the dust, wrapping around the receptionist with a vice-like grip before flinging her high into the air like a ragdoll. The desperate cries of the poor woman echoed through the room before abruptly falling silent as she slammed into a wall with a sickening thud.

"Fuck—" Vox cursed, pulling you into him. His arms tightened around you protectively as he scanned the scene, his eyes darting around in search of any functioning piece of technology that could offer an escape and allow him to teleport you both out. However, his efforts proved futile; every piece of tech in the room was malfunctioning, either from the rampant waves of static or the overflow of water from the shattered aquarium.

Creak.

Suddenly, there was a deafening sound, cutting through the air and the chandelier above you both began to tilt dangerously, its crystals catching the flickering light before it started falling. Vox's curses mingled with the din as he swiftly scooped you into his arms, his muscles straining under the weight as he sprinted away just in the nick of time. With a thunderous crash, the chandelier came hurtling down, shattering into a thousand glittering fragments upon impact with the floor.

The glass shrapnel, propelled by the force of the chandelier's collapse, began to ricochet in your direction. Reacting swiftly, Vox made a split-second decision and hurled you over the railing and onto the ground floor. Screaming, you landed with a thud, the shallow water from the shattered aquarium splashing around you, soaking your dress and sending a shiver down your spine. However, Vox's own descent was less fortunate. As he jumped to follow, a few sharp glass shards found their mark, piercing his metallic body, tearing through his frame, and exposing the wires beneath.

"Ah…" Pushing yourself off the floor, you grappled with a moment of hazy confusion before a shock of fiery pain shot up your leg, so intense that your body instinctively recoiled, nails clawing at the flooded floors. A scream threatened to escape your lips, but you bit it back, your breath catching in your throat. Your eyes blinked rapidly against the pain, struggling to adjust to the darkness surrounding you.

Everything blurred together in a mess of shadows and rushing water. Your breaths grew heavy and frantic, your heart pounding in your chest as you began to shake from the sheer intensity of the pain.

"Doll—!" Vox's voice crackled through the darkness, his form glitching and sparking from the water that seeped into his exposed circuits. Before his outstretched hand could reach you, shadowed tendrils snaked around him, yanking him away with a jolt and tossing him aside, sending him skidding into a nearby column.

You watched in horror, the dim light reflecting off the wet floor and casting eerie shadows on your face. Just then, the tendrils, like twisted serpents, slithered towards you, causing you to shut your eyes tight, bracing for the impending danger.

Time seemed to stand still as you lay there, your breaths shallow and rapid, every nerve on edge.

Still, nothing happened.

Slowly, cautiously, you dared to open your eyes, your vision blurred. As your sight cleared, you found yourself face to face with a familiar shadow.

"William?" you croaked out, your voice raspy from the exertion. William, Alastor's loyal shadow, perked up eagerly at the sound of your voice, its form undulating as it slithered around you, enveloping you in a gentle embrace.

With a weak smile, you raised a trembling hand to pat at the comforting darkness. "Hey, buddy…"

Your attention was abruptly torn away as a red blur darted towards the spot where Vox had been slammed into. Shock seized you, freezing you in place as you watched with wide eyes, feeling your pulse pounding against your chest and skull in a frantic rhythm.

William followed your gaze, his form stiffening as he silently scanned the area for any sign of danger. After a tense minute of no one seen nor heard, he turned back to you, his shadowy head tilting in confusion.

With quivering lips you uttered one name that had explained everything, "Alastor."

.

"Mgh!" Vox grunted as he collided with the wall. The sickening crack tore through his body as he crumpled to the floor amidst a splash of sparking wires, debris, and hanging metal. His systems went haywire, his vision obscured by flashes of glitches and static, each burst of light stabbing into his consciousness like searing knives.

Despite the system failures, Vox couldn't miss the sight of a familiar red-clad demon stalking towards him with a menacing grin etched on his face.

"You..."

Struggling to move, the overlord felt his arm pinned under debris, the weight pressing down on him like a vise, squeezing the air from his lungs. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he sucked in a breath. Each inhale felt like fire scorching his insides.

Finding the leverage, with closed eyes and clenched fists, Vox braced himself and pushed with one hand while the other pulled, every movement sending waves of torment shooting through his body like bolts of lightning.

There was a sickening crack, the sound drowned out by the deafening roar of static and electricity that erupted from him. His back arched involuntarily, nerves and sinew spasming, his body instinctively attempting to curl in on itself to shield against the onslaught of pain as he ripped his arm off. Opening his mouth to scream, Vox found no voice escaping, only a glitched, distorted wheeze.

"My, my," Alastor chuckled, his voice dripping with sadistic amusement as he watched Vox dry-heave from the pain, relishing every moment of his torment. "Good show! Ho-ho! It's always such a thrill to witness your suffering."

"Wh-Wh-What the fuck do you want, old man?" Vox's voice glitched out as he shakily got to his knees, beads of water dripping and soaking through his suit, mingling with the blood and grime that coated his skin. The stench of metallic decay hung heavy in the air, mixed with the acrid scent of burning wires.

"You've got some nerve coming for me straight at my base," he shouted out, his screen flashing with a fierce red hue. "I've got you at a disadvantage!"

Alastor raised a brow in mocking surprise, twisting his head side to side to survey the torn-up tower with exaggerated interest. "Who's at a disadvantage?" he quipped with a shrug, his tone laced with derision as he gestured casually at the chaos surrounding them.

"I'm not the one on my knees, old pal," Alastor mused, his tongue dripping with sinister amusement as he tapped his staff against the flooded floors, the sound echoing. In one, swift motion, a shadow shot out, piercing Vox's shoulder and pinning him back against the wall, the tendrils coiling around him like a vice.

"Fuck you!" Vox hissed, his anger boiling over as he shot out wires of his own. Alastor made no attempt to dodge, staying put as the wires struck through his shoulder, flesh and muscle spraying out in a grisly display. Despite the gruesome injury, Alastor seemed unfazed, tilting his head with an audible crack, his grin widening into something unsettling.

"Sloppy," Alastor spat, blood trickling down the side of his mouth and dripping down his chin. With deliberate slowness, he raised a hand to grasp at the wires, his fingers curling around them with a sickening creak as he pulled them out.

"What the fuck are you even here for?!" Vox screamed.

"Funny you should ask," Alastor mused, his empty gaze boring into Vox's screen. Shadows wrapped around his injured shoulder, forming a makeshift bandage, while his other tendrils reached out, snaking towards Vox's ankles and forcibly dragging him forward. The demon fell onto his back, briefly submerged in the water as he was pulled towards Alastor.

Humming, Alastor slammed his foot down on Vox's torn arm, eliciting a scream of pain as sparks shot out. Chuckling, the Radio Delon hand came down hard, driving Vox's own wire into his eye with a sickening crack, causing the screen to fracture in a spiderweb of cracks.

"I'm here for my wife."

"Wife?" Vox narrowed his eye at Alastor in confusion for a moment, his screen flashing with red, blue, and yellow hues, before widening in recognition at the sight of a golden glint on Alastor's mangled, clawed hands.

Immediately, he snarled, his voice barely audible over the glitches and static, "I ain't telling you shit."

"Oh," Alastor drawled slowly, twirling his cane in his hands with a devilish grin. "You will."

Alastor moved with startling speed, lunging forward to grasp Vox's arms with his bare hands. With a vicious snarl, he began to tear at Vox's chest cavity, his claws digging into the metal casing with a sickening screech as he began to pull it off. Vox screamed in pain, his systems protesting against the assault, but he fought back, unleashing a flurry of sparks and glitches in a desperate attempt to break free.

"Old piece of shit!" Vox roared, his words dripping with venom as he punctuated them with a furious pound of his fist against the ground. Leaning up, he lunged forward, his hand shooting out to scratch at Alastor's eye with a scream of rage. "Radio's fucking dead!"

"You've got quite the fight in you, don't you?" Alastor's laughter echoed through the room as he jolted back from Vox's retaliatory strike.

With a casual flick of his hand, he wiped the crimson blood from his cheek, strands of his hair falling over the new scar that marred his face. "But I'm afraid spirit won't be enough to save your worthless life."

Alastor leaned down, his muscles tensing as his fist crashed into Vox's broken eye with a crack, causing the screen to fracture further. Lifting Vox by his collar, Alastor brought him closer to his face with a snarl.

"Radio killed the video star."

Alastor's tendrils coiled like vipers ready to strike, but before he could unleash them, a sudden crash of debris behind him jolted his attention. With a swift twist of his head, he peered over his shoulder.

Against the backdrop of the dark brick wall loomed a disheveled figure, her rosy cheeks and tousled hair framing her big, doll-like eyes. The shimmering of a necklace with a delicate rose pendant around her neck caught his attention, and in an instant, he recognized you.

Your hand pressed firmly against the wall for balance, while his shadow, William, enveloped your waist, supporting your weight. The fabric of your dress clung to your drenched skin, torn in parts, with one heel missing from your sprained foot. Streaks of makeup ran down your face, smudged by tears that threatened to spill from your eyes. You sniffled, your face flushed with warmth as a burning pain spread to your throat, choking back every sob that threatened to escape.

"Al…"

Alastor didn't know what to do with himself.

Every muscle in his body tensed, locking him in place as if he were frozen in time. In his shock, Vox slipped from his grip, crashing to the ground in a heap of metallic clangs and crackling wires.

With cautious steps, he stepped forward, testing the waters, metaphorically and literally. To his surprise, there was no barrier, no force pushing him back, and no contract manifesting before him.

"Cher?" he called out, breathless.

The sobbing wail that escaped your lips was answer enough.

Heart pounding in his chest, Alastor rushed forward and caught you in a desperate hug. His arms enveloped your trembling form tightly, as if he could shield you from the world's horrors just by holding you close. You sobbed against him, your nails digging into his shoulders, your body going limp like a puppet whose strings had just been cut. His hand flew up to cradle the back of your head, his touch both tender and urgent, his claws grazing your skin slightly in his desperation.

The smile on his face long dropped. His muscles tensed as he whispered your name over and over again like a mantra, each repetition a plea to whatever higher power might be listening.

For the first time in decades, Alastor felt fear grip his heart in its grimy claws. His eyes remained wide open, unblinking, as if he feared that closing them would make you vanish before his very eyes.

"Mon cœur," you heard the dark timbre in his voice, the faint crackle of radio static lingering in the air. Your husband drew his head back, and you winced at the loss of touch, but he immediately dove back in, pressing his lips against yours in a long overdue kiss. The taste of his metallic blood flooded your mouth, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.

Sighing against his lips, you tilted your head and pressed yourself further against him and Alastor grunted in response, his clawed hands mapping up the curve of your hips and moving up to your chest, pressing his palm flat against your heart to feel its steady rhythm. It beat for him, raced and throbbed because of him

You trembled beneath his touch, more tears slipping from your eyes, dribbling down your cheeks.

"That’s it, cher," he hushed. "My sweet girl. You’re alright. Everything’s going to be alright."

His hand reached out, cupping both of yours firmly, causing your rings to clink together. His thumb gently traced over the back of your right hand, caressing the golden band.

Alastor paused, his fingertips gliding over the unfamiliar texture of an engraving on the ring, a curious furrow creasing his brow as he moved back in to examine your hands. You hesitantly allowed his inspection, silently noting the subtle twitches on his blank expression.

Despite the tenderness of his touch, Alastor's face remained devoid of his usual smile. His eyes flickered up to meet yours, silently asking for an explanation, and you answered the unspoken question immediately.

"Vox."

With just one word, Alastor immediately understood. A fleeting smile graced his lips as he pressed a final tender kiss to both of your eyelids before his grin returned in full force. he snapped his head back to face Vox, holding you close in his arms, supporting your weight due to your broken ankle. "It seems we have some unfinished business."

"Yeah, we fucking do," a new voice interjected, causing both you and Alastor to whirl around.

Velvette and Valentino made their presence known as they stood stoically by the entrance, their disheveled appearances and visible injuries painting a picture of the struggle that had unfolded. Every bruise, every torn piece of clothing seemed to speak on its own of the relentless assault Alastor had unleashed upon the building. It was clear that they had endured their fair share of the battle.

"Come."

Velvette reached her hand out, and you felt an odd sensation of tugging at your neck. Suddenly, a hot pink collar materialized around you, and before you could react, you were forcefully pulled forward with a sharp yank. The sudden movement caused you to stumble several feet, your injured ankle buckling beneath you with a jolt. A scream ripped from your throat, the intensity of the pain washing your vision with a blaring flash of white.

Valentino immediately grabbed you by the hair, wrenching you up as though you were nothing more than a prize to be claimed. "You want her? Well, we're going to have to make a deal," he taunted.

Something primal gnawed and snarled at Alastor's insides. Even in the brief seconds since you were torn away from him, the ache for your presence already began to consume him, searing through his veins like a wildfire. It cut him deeper than any of the physical wounds he received. He had just gotten you, and now you were being torn away from him once more.

He wanted to scream, to tear at his own flesh in anguish, to rip through the barriers separating him from you until he could hold you close once more.

And if he had to paint the sidewalks of hell with the blood of these vermin to achieve that, then he would stop at nothing to see it through.

"There's not going to be a deal. I doubt anything you can offer would be of any value," Alastor's grin twisted into a snarl, his eyes flashing red. With a swift motion, he slammed his staff against the floor, unleashing a blare of crackling energy and swirling shadows into the air. "I'm going to end your fucking lives."

"Ay, calm down," Valentino snarled, his voice dripping with menace as he spread his wings, casting a shadow over the room. Dipping a hand into his coat pocket, he drew his gun and pressed it tight against your temple, the cold metal sending a shiver down your spine. Sweat beaded on your forehead as the searing burn of the barrel pressed against your skin, a silent threat hanging in the air.

You didn’t realize you were crying until you felt Valentino's thumb run across your cheek, the demon cooing at you as if you were a child. Blinking away the tears, you opened your eyes to find Alastor's figure standing out vividly amidst the chaos, his red suit and hair glowing like fire against the darkness.

Like blood.

Alastor's entire body practically shook with anger, the shadows in the corners of the room writhing and twisting.

Their tainted blood should never dare to soil your skin, nor should the gaze of these wretches ever dare to tarnish your beautiful visage. In his eyes, you were pure and untainted, and above all, you belonged to him.

Only him.

"Now," Valentino chuckled, a twisted smile playing on his lips as he reached out to pet your head with a hand, his fingernails sharp and threatening. "It's really not worth the trouble. So why don't you stop this tantrum, grab your little bitch, and get out? She's not this fucking valuable to us."

"D-D-D-Don't!" Vox's voice crackled from his spot on the floor, his one functional arm trembling as he struggled to rise.

"Oh, shut the fuck up," Velvette scowled, her nails digging into the fabric of her torn dress as she hurled your contract towards Alastor with a vicious flick of her wrist. "Do we have a fucking deal?"

Alastor's hand shot out, snatching the contract mid-air before it could reach the ground. Holding it aloft, he tore it apart with a savage rip, the sound of paper shredding echoing like thunder through the room.

"Deal."

Instantly, the chains restraining you dissolved, and Valentino moved away from you. You felt a gentle tug as Alastor's swirling shadows guided you towards him. His arm enveloped you protectively, pulling you close as if shielding you from any further harm. His wide-eyed gaze remained fixed on Velvette and Valentino, a silent warning in his stance.

"I'll make sure you regret ever crossing us," Alastor declared with a menacing growl, summoning a swirling portal of shadows behind him as he slowly backed away, pulling you along with him. Before departing, he deftly removed your engraved ring from your finger and tossed it in Vox's direction.

"Radio isn't dead," Alastor snarked as the shadowed portals began to envelop you both, their inky tendrils curling around you like a shroud, "but this broadcast is coming to an end."

With that, you and Alastor vanished into the swirling shadows, leaving the three figures standing amidst the aftermath.

The building lay in ruins, reduced to disrepair. Water trickled down from the shattered remnants of the aquarium, its glass now fractured and broken, mingling with the thick dust that hung in the air like a shroud. From top to bottom, no room was left untouched by the devastation wrought on by the Radio Demon.

Velvette stood rigid in the center of the room, her figure shadowed as she bore her intense gaze into Vox. The TV demon scoffed dismissively, his broken screen flickering erratically, casting disjointed shadows across the room.

"I'm killing her," Velvette declared.

"Who?" Vox croaked, doing his best to sit up as Valentino helped him to his feet.

Velvette clenched her teeth, her frustration boiling over as she stepped forward and forcefully slammed her heels down on Vox's legs, sending him slamming back down, the sound echoing in the room. She spat in his fractured screen, her voice dripping with venom.

"I'M FUCKING KILLING HER!"

.

"Don'tcha worry about a thing, sweetheart!" Mimzy chirped cheerfully, her voice ringing out above the din of the crowded bar. Balancing a huge stack of beer in her arms, she maneuvered skillfully through the maze of tables, dodging patrons and obstacles with ease. The dim lights of the bar reflected off the bottles, casting shimmering patterns across the worn wooden surface, while the faint scent of alcohol lingered in the air, mingling with chatter and laughter.

Arriving at the table, a group of men erupted in hollers and cheers. Mimzy giggled in response, her laughter joining the chorus of noise as she shot a playful wink in their direction. With a bit too much force, she shoved the tray onto the table, causing the overflowing glasses to slosh and liquor to spill onto the tabletop.

"Enjoy!"

With a toss of her hair, she sauntered away, her heels echoing against the wooden floorboards as she made her way towards the entrance. The club was delightfully full tonight, and Mimzy could practically taste the mouthwatering green of money already.

But just as she reached the doorway, a hand grabbed her, yanking her out into the darkness beyond. The blonde's cheery demeanor disappeared in an instant as she found herself shoved up against a nearby wall.

The cold grime and mysterious mold clinging to the brick surface sent a shiver down her spine, the dampness seeping through her clothes and chilling her to the bone. The dim light from the bar seemed to fade into obscurity as the darkness of the alley enveloped her, suffocating her senses. Panic surged within her as she struggled against her assailant.

"Hey! What gives—" Mimzy began, but her words caught in her throat as she realized she was face to face with Velvette. The overlord looked disoriented and disheveled in the dimly lit alleyway, her clothes torn and her hair in disarray. Her eyes, usually sharp and calculating, now held a wild, frenzied glint.

"There you are," Velvette's grip on Mimzy's dress tightened, her nails digging deep into the fabric and piercing skin, sending a sharp twinge of pain through the blonde. "I've been looking for you."

The blonde recoiled as Velvette's claws trailed up her throat, leaving a trail of stinging scratches in their wake. The metallic smell of blood flooded her nose as one of Velvette's nails grazed over her skin, catching on the delicate chain of her necklace and tugging it slightly.

With a trembling voice, Mimzy managed to choke out, "Oh! W-What do you need me for, sugar?"

Velvette's lips curled into a sinister smile, the glint of her sharp teeth shining under the alley lights.

"Oh, just a little chat," she replied, her voice dripping with malice. "Aren't you curious about what's been happening in your absence? Some skeletons in a closet got dug up."

The blonde's eyes widened, her heart pounding in her chest as she realized the gig was up.

"I didn't—!" she started, but her protest was cut short by the sickening thud of Velvette's fist against the wall beside her. Cracks spiderwebbed across the brickwork, the crumbling debris cascading to the ground in a cloud of dust.

"Don't lie to me," Velvette hissed, as she leaned down to the blondes height, meeting her face to face. "You knew who she was. And you helped him."

"I-I didn't know," Mimzy lied straight through her teeth, trembling in her heels. "I swear, Velvette. I didn't know anything about his wife."

"Don't play dumb with me, bitch. You knew full well who she was," the overlord snarled.

With a derisive laugh, she threw her head back and added, "But you couldn't even keep it under wraps! You got fucking ratted out in less than 2 days!"

"No! No, I swear on my life, sugar!" Mimzy pleaded, her voice trembling as she shook her head, her golden curls bouncing around her shoulders. "I was just a stray bullet!"

But Velvette's expression remained cold and unforgiving, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"You fucking liar," she spat, her voice dripping with venom.

A flash of silver caught Mimzy's eye, and she flinched as she saw the dagger in Velvette's hand. The cold metal glinted with a blue glow in the dim light of the alley, its edges sharp and sleek.

It was angelic iron, and the very sight of it sent bile rushing up her throat.

It hurt her eyes to look at the dagger, its presence filling her with a sense of dread she couldn't shake. But despite the fear coursing through her veins, she couldn’t tear her gaze away. She was frozen in place, like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.

But then, there was a sudden blur of movement.

"Wait!"

A sharp, searing pain shot through Mimzy, causing her to gasp. The sensation of blood trickling down her skin sent waves of nausea through her, and she dry heaved, struggling to keep herself upright.

Her eyes remained locked on the smeared blood on the steel lodged in her, the sight both horrifying and mesmerizing. It was so revolting, so surreal, that she failed to suppress a shudder of dread as she stared at it, transfixed by the grim reality of her impending fate.

Coldness began to envelop her, seeping into her bones as the darkness closed in around her like a suffocating cloak. Dark spots danced at the edges of her vision as the edges of her consciousness blurred and faded. She felt herself slipping away, consumed by the shadows, as the alleyway swallowed her whole.

Velvette let the body drop, the dull thud echoing in the desolate alleyway. A twisted feeling of satisfaction flooded her veins, coursing through her with a sickening thrill.

The harsh glow of the streetlights cast eerie shadows across her features as she surveyed the aftermath of her actions. With a flick of her head, she turned away from the lifeless form, her cracked heels echoing against the cold pavement as she disappeared into the darkness, leaving behind a trail of crimson steps in her wake.

"And so it begins."

.

[augusnippets]

Prompts are out!

plain text and "rules" under the cut

path of hurt:

day 1: gaslighting/hypnosis/brainwashing

day 4: amputation/degloving/vivisection

day 7: waterboarding/drowning/choking

day 10: execution/fake execution/begging for mercy

day 13: drugging/poisoning/cannibalism

day 16: humiliation/dehumanisation/conditioning

day 19: collared/branded/chipped

day 22: captivity/recapture/tearful goodbye

day 25: intimate whumper/sadistic whumper/reluctant whumper

day 28: mind control/body control/betrayal

bonus prompts: forced to watch/whipping/stalked

path of comfort:

day 2: platonic bathing/hair care/make-up

day 5: drunk caretaking/concussed caretaking/feverish caretaking

day 8: reunion/found family/friends

day 11: escape/breaking the conditioning/safe and sound

day 14: toys/gifts/celebration

day 17: forgiveness/grace/resolving a misunderstanding

day 20: homemade meal/quenched thirst/favourite treat

day 23: massage/wiping away tears/gentle touch

day 26: nightmare/warm blanket/snuggling

day 29: singing/first words/inside jokes

bonus prompts: tending to nonhuman whumpee's nonhuman parts/protective caretaker/whumpee wearing caretaker's clothes

secret third path — whumperless whump:

day 3: thunderstorm/blizzard/heat wave

day 6: car accident/plane crash/ship wreck

day 9: hypothermia/overheating/dehydration

day 12: lost/trapped/avalanche

day 15: food poisoning/starvation/throwing up

day 18: apocalypse/infection/self administered medicine

day 21: delirium/vertigo/hallucinations

day 24: animal attack/bear trap/land mine

day 27: migraines/chronic pain/phantom pains

day 30: self-harm/addiction/overdose

bonus prompts: flashbacks/relapse/medical complications

day 31 — bonus day :) write whatever you feel like writing today or have a nice day of rest

AuguSnippets is an event that encourages the short and sweet of the whump genre. Ideally, your drabbles would be under 500 or even under 100 words, maybe even just a dialogue prompt. This, however, does not mean I won't reblog longer prompt fills! Don't stress too much on that limit. I just think it's sometimes nice to challenge yourself to write shorter drabbles, and it can also work as a very good exercise to write daily or semi-daily, and it doesn't need a lot of prep.

As for tagging your work, please use the appropriate trigger warnings. This is so everyone can stay safe and avoid potentially triggering topics while participating. Also, if your work is nsfw, please don't forget to tag it as mature content! If your work is not tagged properly, I won't be able to reblog it! Thank you!

Our special tag will be "#augusnippets day [x]". On the first day that would be "#augusnippets day 1". This is so I and others can find your work easier! You can also tag the blog, that's an even more surefire way to get me to notice your prompt fill :)

Is this a writing only event?

Yeah, this one is exclusively writing focused.

Do I have to use the special tag or tag this blog?

Not if you don't want to get featured on this blog :) It's just so I can find your work easier and reblog it here! If that's not something you're interested in, just scribble away without it.

Is the "under 500" a hard limit for the word count?

No, but I encourage everyone to try and keep to it in the spirit of this event.

Can I submit nsfw works?

Yes! Just please tag it properly :)

Can I mix and match the prompts from different paths?

Yes! Have fun!

What do I need to do to get the completionist badge?

Either you need to complete one whole path, or complete 10 prompt fills altogether while mixing and matching. Those who complete all 30 days (and maybe even the bonus day) will get something extra special!

Can I write fandom related things?

Yes! This event is both for original characters and fandom related writing.

Will there be an AO3 collection?

Yes! Here

[simpxxstan]

HELLOOO!!! CONGRATS FOR THE 550 FOLLOWERS ON TUMBLR I HOPE U GET MORE FOLLOWERS BC UR WRITTING?? DELICIOUS 💗💗

But I would like to request seungcheol + dilfism ?? Like have u SEEN that man??

Thank you!! Have a good day!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY FAVOURITE MAN <333 thank you for sending this in! LOVED writing dilf cheol. i swear this man and his sexiness of 30s will be the death of me. inspired completely by his new glasses look at caratland 2024.

this is a part of my 550 followers event, but requests are now CLOSED.

genre: smut, enemies to lovers, age gap, dilf!seungcheol, lawyer au.

word count: 13k words.

warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+ nsfw content. 13 YEAR AGE GAP, mention of suicide, single dad!seungcheol, a ton of legal terms (not vouching to be accurate because i am neither a lawyer nor a law student nor is my research perfect), seungcheol is a bit selfish and toxic (but there's a redemption arc), ANGSTY angst, but A LOT OF FLUFF TO COMPENSATE. smut warnings: protected sex, oral receiving (f and m), mild dirty talk, implicit size kink, implicit spit kink.

"it's my first case!" you whine in surrender, slumping on the shoulder of your friend, as you both re-read the case file in front of you for the n-th time this morning. yoona pats your head, but she knows even she can say nothing to console you. it must be either sheer bad luck or some unknown person's vengeance, that you're against choi seungcheol in the very first case of your life.

y/l/n y/n: the lawyer of the plaintiff, hwang seola.

choi seungcheol: the lawyer of the defendant, KNT enterprises pvt. ltd.

nothing can save you from losing your first case in the worst way possible. not even the stellar letters of recommendation from your professors. not even your exceptional performance in the national lawyers examination process. not even your diligence during your interning years that's earned you the title of golden rookie. everyone expects you to make it big, including yourself- but that's clearly not going to happen if you lose the very first actual case you have to face in your life.

"at least no one will mock you for losing," yoona says in a meek voice. you scoff indignantly, "as if that's any comfort. still doesn't change the fact that i'm going to start off my career on the worst foot possible. why does my luck have to be so shitty?"

"hey, think about the positives. imagine how much of a learning experience it'll be. i know best how much you consider seungcheol as your idol."

you sigh. five years ago, when seungcheol had blown up across the country because of his historic debut in the court of corporate law, winning case after case and setting precedents that were welcomed with open arms, you'd looked up to him. five years ago, he'd walked into your college for an invited seminar during your first semester and blown your mind away. five years ago, you would cry in joy at the opportunity to even spend a minute in the same courtroom as seungcheol and see him in action. five years ago, he'd been the ideal man of your dreams- perfect in every damn way possible.

the only issue with that is that he's still the ideal man in your eyes. even if losing the case against him won't make your nervous, just being in close quarters with him for long hours will make you infinitely nervous.

"maybe i should recommend boss to let you take up the ca-" you tease yoona, and she squeals, whining protests instantly. "no thank you!" you laugh, hoping to lighten the tension of the moment. but the relief is only temporary, and the weight of the upcoming case lingers in your mind for hours later.

_

the first trial of the case is a week later. before that, you decide to change your mindset to a better thought process- even if you simply assume that you're going to lose this case, you're still going to give in your 100% so that you can step away with no regrets and only more knowledge gained. the first step to that, of course, is speak to your client personally, without the intermediation of the firm you work at.

mrs hwang turns out to be a woman just a few years older than you. the primary reason why she's suing the company her husband used to work at is because her husband had been driven to suicide by the constant pressure in his workplace to keep some illegal activities and fraud under the covers, which had not only harmed his mental health and morals but also affected the way his superiors judged his work performance. she may be young, but she's lost her husband merely three years after their marriage, and just one look at her face makes your heart ache in sympathy.

this isn't the first time you've seen such a case. during your years of study, you've studied plenty of cases involving companies ill-treating their workers and leading them to take up drastic steps in desperation. not only does this case come under a serious mistreatment of employees under labour laws, but also violates laws governing corporations which demand them to steer off illegal activities and maintain integrity. it's a very interesting case, and you're highly intrigued and instantly drawn into the case. there are several nuances that you know you may miss out by a hair's breadth if you're not careful. but you cannot take chances. if you have to even put up a fair fight against choi seungcheol, you're going to have to leave no stone unturned.

at the end of your discussions with mrs hwang, you're fully convinced that the company is indeed at fault here. however, you're going to have to prove it in court with the meagre evidence you have- which is low anyway, considering how big companies use their financial and social capital to turn such cases remarkably in their favour. the primary example of that being them getting seungcheol, the country's top corporate lawyer, to represent them, while mrs hwang can only hire you, a rookie lawyer at a lesser reputed firm.

however, as you walk into the courtroom, you convince yourself to not think about how the odds are against your favour from the first moment itself, to calm your nerves. you're here to debut with a bang, and you will fake it till you make it.

_

it doesn't work.

it doesn't work because the moment you enter the courtroom, you see choi seungcheol sitting next to the defendant's CEO on the other side of the room, dressed in the most immaculate suit, his glasses perched on his nose as he inspects the documents you've submitted in court prior to the trial as preliminary evidence. when you walk towards the bench you're going to sit at, he looks up at you.

it's a careful, measured glance. a glance of confidence, a glance of self-awareness. he knows he's going to win. and yet, he smiles at you indulgently.

moments later, he meets you halfway across the room.

"good morning. i'm seungcheol," he extends his hand for a shake, his nose upturned as he looks down at you with an aura that nearly blows you away. you wish that you hadn't worn heels tonight- because if he keeps looking at you like that, your knees are going to give up.

"of course, who wouldn't know you?" you steady your voice mustering a smile.

seungcheol's smile does not change. "it's nice to meet the golden rookie finally."

his words send shivers down your spine. there's just something about meeting your idol from so up-close that you want to submit instantly to his infinitely higher knowledge and experience to you. there's also something particular to him that's affecting your mind and body- because if seungcheol at thirty-one was handsome, he's absolutely godly at thirty-six. he's aged like fine wine- the rimless glasses sitting firmly on his nose, tiny wrinkles around his eyes, and a few graying hairs around his sideburns.

you don't get a chance to respond as the judge enters the court and you're pulled away to your bench, sitting next to a very nervous-looking mrs hwang. you forcefully drag your eyes away from seungcheol, who still has that tiny smile on his face as he talks to his client, and focus on your client, giving her much-needed confidence boosts (needed both by her and by you).

_

as anticipated, the first trial does not go well. it's just your fucking luck that the judge knows seungcheol already- but then, it was wrong of you to not consider that already, knowing how famous he is. on top of it all, mrs hwang breaks down in the middle of seungcheol's questioning, shaken completely by his straightforward questions and uncaring gaze, and the court gets adjourned, leaving you stranded without any proper progress against seungcheol's stronger case. the next trial is scheduled for a week later. you wish you could think that your work has been cut out for you, but it's far from that.

the second trial comes quickly- but it doesn't let you progress much further. seungcheol looks even more nonchalant on the second trial- dressed in another suit, he's less fierce today during his questioning. you don't notice it, because you're too flustered with your own work, but his eyes stray towards you more often. his eyes glaze over with something soft every time you make eye contact, and you immediately look away, like you've been caught in the act. but seungcheol doesn't let it slip- he keeps up his passive aggression when he's shaking hands with you before exiting the courtroom.

"tough luck, rookie. focus between the lines more."

his words make you even more nervous than before, but you put on a brave face for seola's sake. this motivates you to change your gameplan, and you decide to stop focusing on existing evidence, which is scarce, and use more verbal reports of other employees who have willingly stepped up to speak the truth after the suicide of their friend and colleague. by the time you're just three days before the third trial date, you have a solid set of verbal witnesses who will provide evidence on your side, but every time you feel slightly more confident than earlier, seungcheol's voice rings in your ears and you lose all hope.

on the morning of the fourth day, you receive an email from your boss.

y/n, please attend a lunch meeting on my behalf with some of our older clients (whose list i have attached below) today.

you jump to the opportunity- being provided a chance to interact with the old clients of the firm is a lucrative opportunity to impress those who've stayed with the firm from the beginning (and naturally, have graduated into stakeholders at the firm).

so it's safe to say you're in for a rude shock when you reach the lunch spot at a five-star restaurant along the banks of the han river, and find none of your clients but instead you find seungcheol waiting for you.

_

"close your mouth and stop drooling," jeonghan's voice somehow appears in his mind when he sees you enter the restaurant. "you make it obvious how hot you find women in suits."

but seungcheol cannot take his eyes off you. hasn't been able to for the last two times he's seen you. even if the courtroom is no place for indecency, he's had plenty of indecent thoughts whenever he's seen you, dressed in your suits and blazers, your curves prominent and your hair tied up in a practical ponytail. he should not think like this about you- he knows it. you both are set up at natural odds because of the case- but somehow, that makes him more interested in you. and seungcheol would not have it any other way. he looks forward to each trial of an otherwise boring case just to see you- the passion on your face whenever you're arguing your case, the way your mouth opens in shock whenever seungcheol casually dismisses a piece of information you've clearly worked hard on, the way you stare in exasperation at the witnesses when they speak against your stance, the hunger in your eyes whenever you're questioning his client, and the fire in you that burns you to work harder before each trial. seungcheol hasn't seen a lawyer as passionate as you in many years- most would have given up even before starting just due to his formidable reputation, but you're not even intimidated by his on-brand dead stare that works on everyone.

"i was told i'm here to meet clients of my firm. i didn't know you hired our firm for your personal needs," you cock an eyebrow as you stand in front of him, and seungcheol smirks. that attitude does nothing to filter his thoughts.

"would you have come if i'd invited you personally?"

you open your mouth to say something but he beats you to it. "have a seat, please. let's enjoy lunch."

you do so immediately. submissive. "but i still don't understand why i'm here." bratty.

he places a finger on his lips as the food he's pre-ordered arrives. the smell of the delicious food breaks your frigid attitude, it obviously helps that seungcheol's ordered your self-proclaimed favourite dish on your public instagram account. "i'm sure you must be hungry." seungcheol digs in himself, his eyes on yours as he carefully licks the spoon clean. your eyes flicker to his lips instantly before you're staring back into his eyes, defiance laced in your gaze. you pick up the spoon and start eating as well. seungcheol smiles.

i'm a dad to two daughters. i know how to tame brats.

after a few minutes, he finally speaks. "do you know the first step to winning a battle, rookie?"

you look up and tilt your head slightly in question.

"knowing your opponent."

"i already know you."

"that's what you think. that's why you're not going to win."

your eyes flash with anger. "are you just going to rub that into my face? is that why i'm here?"

"so what? you don't want to win? isn't the most loved story of human history the tale of the underdog?"

"frankly, my opponent isn't even you. it's your client, who isn't even here. so i don't understand the point of this meeting."

"so much can be learnt merely through observation, rookie. you can't know someone by looking at their annual reports and how much money they pay their employees."

"i don't need to know anything more than that! unlike you, i don't wish to meddle in people's personal lives to win cases. i don't need your brain games."

seungcheol chuckles. "the courtroom is nothing but brain games, rookie. think how far facts can take you, and then think how much further imagination can take you."

you gasp, pinching your nose. "i'm sorry, what? imagination? i'll win on evidence and evidence only. i used to admire you as an icon of law. but now, when i see you defend an obvious criminal with such blatant stubbornness, i'm having second thoughts."

"obvious criminal? are you telling me you've obtained the evidence you need to prove my client guilty in court?"

"and what if i do?"

seungcheol sits back, squaring his shoulders to his full stature. "you shouldn't tell me about it then, rookie."

"when you'd walked into my law school five years ago for a seminar, this wasn't the choi seungcheol i'd grown to love as an icon."

fuck. five years ago? just how young were you?

"i'd advise you not to get emotional about the case. the courtroom is no place for admiration or lov- or any other emotions."

"and yet, you have no desire to live up to the expectations of hundreds of law students like me who look up to you? you don't care about the youth you're letting down with this attitude?"

"why should i? i'm surviving just fine, aren't i?"

by this point, seungcheol can see the way your nails dig into your own palms in frustration. it's so amusing, how emotionally you're dealing with this. in a world of black and white, seeing you behave gray in every scenario makes seungcheol think he's lived thirty-six years of his life incorrectly.

finally when you cannot come up with any rebuttal, you stand up, dragging your chair on purpose to make noise. "there's absolutely nothing more for me to talk to you about. i hope you've learnt about me today, choi seungcheol. i've certainly learnt a lot too." and you walk away before he has the opportunity to say anything.

_

lunch with seungcheol leaves you shaken and stuttering. even as you open the door of the cab outside and ask the driver to take you to the office without a second thought, you spend the entire journey lost in your own thoughts. every little moment of the meeting lingers in your mind, unsettling your confidence. from the way he calls you rookie to his quiet arrogance and confidence, everything about him is so frustrating and yet... he draws you in. your perception about him has definitely changed after today, but even with the added understanding of just how selfish choi seungcheol can be, you can't ignore the sheer attraction you feel towards him.

it stays on your mind through the next three days. and on the morning of the third trial, you're stuck with two different thoughts plaguing your mind.

the first: a genuine concern about how the third trial is going to pan out. it's likely to be your last chance to even bring the judge's opinion to your side, because if you can't present good enough evidence today, there's no way to sway the jury to your side.

the second: choi seungcheol is a man who annoys you but you also have this innate craving to impress him. your respect for him hasn't changed, but your conversation with him has revealed to you just how cutthroat the world of law really is. and his suave attitude, the confidence with which he's so sure he's going to win, and his infinitely superior experience to you makes some part of you so desperate to seek his attention and impress him. show him that you can do well too. show him that you're not going to make beginner's mistakes. show him that you're more than a mere rookie.

but when you walk into the courtroom, seola next to you, your sunglasses perched on your head, you stare at the empty bench behind you. it was supposed to be full with the four witnesses you'd invited today and were relying on to sail through the the third trial. frantically, you ask your colleague who's assisting you in the trial, "where are the witnesses? are they running late? can you ple-"

"they're not going to come today, y/n."

seungcheol's icy voice cuts through the chaos and reaches you sharply. you spin around to find him dressed immaculately in a midnight blue turtleneck that shows off the stubble growing down his jaw.

"sorry, what?"

"you heard me the first time. none of them are going to come today."

"and how do you know?"

seungcheol smirks as he shrugs and takes a step closer towards you. "i have my ways, rookie."

you're fuming at this point, but you really can't speak your mind because seola breaks down in tears right next to you and you can't help but shift away your focus from seungcheol's dangerous eyes and take care of her.

it's honestly a miracle that after the complete sweep that seungcheol presents in the third trial, with no new evidence nor substantial evidence from your end, you still get another chance at a fourth trial, scheduled two weeks from now, in a pitiful announcement from the judge, imploring you to use this final chance to collect as much as evidence as you can.

_

when the trial ends, you ask seola to go home, and you lock yourself up in a bathroom stall in the court building, trying to come to terms with everything that's come to pass today. it's been an overwhelming morning and you're still shaken badly by it all. every moment you spend in this world with seungcheol, he seems to make it his personal mission to show you that there's no place for softness or emotions in this cut-throat world.

when you exit the washroom, you find seungcheol standing outside, an unlit cigarette between his lips.

"did you bribe them?"

he turns to look at you, his eyes clearly wide in surprise. "what are you saying?"

you take a step closer to him, your entire body shaking with fury. "did you bribe the fucking witnesses?"

"we're in public, woman, control your tongue."

"i'm not ashamed of anything i'm saying though, are you?"

seungcheol's lips twist in distaste and he drags you away from the public place to a quieter spot secluded near the parking lot. "i understand you're frustrated because of that no-show today, but you're speaking nonsense-"

"i'm speaking perfect sense, seungcheol! only you knew that i was going to bring in witnesses today."

"only me?"

"except two people at my firm, one of who is my best friend, and the other is a colleague who's assisting me in the case."

"who knows? maybe your friend's the snitch-"

you step closer to him, seething in anger. "don't you fucking make false allegations, choi seungcheol!"

"you're the one making false allegations here, really."

"you'll have to admit it, seungcheol. someday. if all your fame and reputation has been through such cheap tricks and under-the-table dirty business, you'll have to pay for it-"

"or what?" seungcheol puts back the cigarette between his lips, and lights it with a lighter. he takes in a big puff, and exhales right into your face. "or what, y/n? maybe you should take my advice instead. and stop making rookie mistakes."

as he walks away from you, you shout behind him, "i'm going to expose you, seungcheol!"

"empty threats, la la la." his voice trails back, sending shivers down your spine, as you're left alone in the dark parking lot, wallowing in your own pathetic helplessness.

_

your search for further evidence has led you to a complete dead-end. the most important thing that you need, the one that will clinch the case for you absolutely, is any - even one- document directly coming from KNT to seola's husband. unfortunately, you've gone through his emails and fax multiple times, but found nothing. nothing on his laptop, no hard drives, no soft drives, no external devices, nothing on his mobile phone or other such devices either. today you're searching all his belongings again and again, but it's still the dead-end. you realise that there's no point looking for more witnesses because seungcheol's just going to drive them away by whatever tricks he's using. and you're confident that seungcheol's thinking a step ahead of you- so any new evidence sources that you might come up with now might have already been dismissed by seungcheol through some back-up plan of his.

"seola, i need you to think once more, please. did he use any other device apart from the one at his office and the one at home? any laptop or any other mobile phone?"

"no... i can't remember anything else, really. we couldn't afford anything more too..."

you grimace. "i hope you don't get offended, but i'm sure he received quite a bit of money from whatever services he was providing KNT. enough to motivate him to keep quiet and hold on for so long. otherwise an honest man like him wouldn't want to get into this mess, would he?"

seola doesn't reply immediately, tears silently dropping down his cheeks.

you sigh and place a hand on her shoulders, rubbing softly as she breaks down into more tears. in the last few weeks, you've become surprisingly quite close. you've comforted her through her worst moments, feeling compassionate both as a woman and as a lawyer. and she, in turn, has helped you without any qualms, in not just the case but also lent a patient ear to you whenever you've wanted to rant, made ramen for you whenever you've worked till late, and let you stay over at her place whenever the rain outside's become too torrential for you to take the bus back home.

after a few long moments, seola is finally able to gain back her composure. "y/n.... he did mention something about an outstation office... towards the outskirts of the city. he used to go there twice a month. he told me it was for sending out packages to the other branches of the company... but maybe you could see there once?" your eyes light up with excitement as you hear seola's words. is this finally the breakthrough you'd been looking for through high and low? is this finally going to be your trump card to win the case? your rational side tells you to not become overjoyed immediately, but something in you is desperate to see that cockiness wiped off seungcheol's face, and bring him down to earth from whatever higher place his arrogance has placed himself at.

"seola, can you give me any tentative location for it? i'm going to go check it now."

"now? but the forecast is showing there's going to be thunderstorms tonight! there's so much thunder grumbling out there-"

"it doesn't matter, seola. i can't afford to lose any more time."

_

seungcheol's been stuck in traffic for almost an hour now, and the windshield wiper is absolutely useless in preventing the rain from cascading on his front window. the rain is relentless- just like the thoughts tormenting his heart. the reason he's returning home so late is because there had been a dinner party at the workplace cafeteria, hosted by his colleagues and closest friends, jeonghan, joshua, wonwoo and minghao. they're all lawyers with their own reputations, and the only friends they all have now. the point of the dinner? celebrating seungcheol's (upcoming) win in the KNT vs mrs hwang case. (and also to get seungcheol's mind off y/n, who's distracted him from his work all week, ever since their encounter at the parking lot of the courthouse.)

it'd been a mistake to stay out for so long. a sheer lapse of judgement, and seungcheol has not choice but to curse at himself right now. his daughters have called him already, their voices sleepy as they stay up for their father to return home to eat ice cream with them, before they fall into bed.

"and yet, you have no desire to live up to the expectations of hundreds of law students like me who look up to you? you don't care about the youth you're letting down with this attitude?"

y/n's words ring in his mind.

as the rain pours down cruelly, seungcheol's heart lets out silent cries.

he's a failure.

he's failed his family. thirteen years ago, when his parents had cast him out of their house after he'd failed to get a job at a good law firm.

that attitude's gonna get you nowhere, kid! stop running your mouth and focus on your work!

he's failed his first love. nine years ago, four years before he'd finally made his mark in the country's law scene, his wife had divorced him and left their children with him, because he'd not been able to earn enough for her.

stop being such a social activist, seungcheol! the world isn't soft like you. stop being so stuck up and emotional!

and now he's failing his daughters. day after day, they'd stay up late, waiting to spend some quality time with their father. night after night, they'd end up sleeping alone because seungcheol's insomnia didn't let him sleep with them. month after month, he'd promise to take them to their long-due vacation, but he was always too busy to take leave for two weeks at once. year after year, they'd wait for him to come to sports' day but seungcheol could never make it.

appa, if you can't take us to jeju... can we go for the school trip this year to jeju? all our friends are going to go for it...

all these painful thoughts triggered simply by one person- you. you're an unprecedented variable in his life, someone he couldn't even imagine to be a part of his life even a month ago. and yet, you've made him feel so many emotions, that had become dormant for years, in such a short span of time.

he's disappointing you too.

he doesn't know why it hurts what you think of him. seungcheol had thought that at thirty-six, he's finally ascended from these petty thoughts. but somehow your judgemental gaze, your innocent words and your fresh perspectives have shaken him to the core.

or perhaps he does know why, and he doesn't want to acknowledge it.

you remind him of himself.

but you're far better than he was. he'd been a coward, a loser, too quick to give up, and too hasty to drown in his own pity party. you're a fighter, a challenger, not accepting the cruelties of status quo, and too passionate to give up your sense of justice just to fit in with the cut-throat dirty reality.

you're 10 times the lawyer than he could ever be, and something about that makes him so inexplicably drawn to you.

because you're the person he's always wanted to idolised.

no wonder that when you'd told him that you'd looked up to him as an idol, he'd laughed at himself.

the traffic jam disperses slowly, and seungcheol breaks out of his daze. the clock shows 10.30 pm, and the rain shows no sign of stopping. thankfully, the traffic is now moving smoothly.

_

after almost half an hour of standing at the bus stop, waiting for something to pass by, there's finally a car with a very bright beam slowing down in front of you. it's a private car, but you hope it can give you a l-

"what are you doing here?!" the words escape your mouth as soon as you notice who's in the driver as the car window rolls down.

"get in, rookie."

you consider hesitating, but seungcheol's car looks warm... and safe. so you do get in, hating how there's water everywhere you're touching, spoiling the clearly expensive leather of the seats. but seungcheol doesn't say anything even as you shuffle in and finally settle on the passenger seat.

he thankfully doesn't ask you anything as he lets you take a breath and get warm enough. so about five minutes pass before he asks you, "what were you thinking, standing out there in this rain?" his voice is low, almost cracked, but laced with serious concern. you notice that he's still dressed in his typical suits. is he returning from work so late?

"i had work here," you say carefully avoiding the connection about the case.

"so late at night?"

"it was important."

"that it couldn't wait till the morning?"

"no."

you're aware by the way his jaw is clenched that he's getting annoyed by your short answers. but you have no option except to be as vague as possible- his mind works too fast for you.

"where's your home?"

you tell him the locality, and he sighs. "that's on the opposite side of town."

"i know, just... maybe you can drop me at a more crowded bus stop? the one where i was waiting was a bit remote, but a more crowded one will definitely have more frequent buses-"

"you're out of your mind."

"huh?"

"just because you're irresponsible doesn't mean i will be too. i cannot and will not leave you in the middle of the road in this rain so late at night."

"seungcheol, i don't want to barge-"

"you're not barging into anything. you'll come home with me, change into drier clothes and sleep in for the night so that you don't fall sick."

"y-your home?"

"yes. do you have a better idea?"

you gulp, his gaze stern. you don't have a better idea, in fact getting to change into warm clothes and get into someone's house sounds divine right now. the only problem is that it's.... seungcheol's home. if you can't handle him in his everyday suits, you wonder what thoughts seungcheol in his natural abode will spark in you.

"i'll always be grateful to you."

seungcheol nods, and the rest of the journey is silent.

_

seungcheol doesn't know yet if it's a good or a bad idea. he did it as an impulse- perhaps some part of him hopes he's still redeemable in your eyes, so he wants to do the right thing for once. but he won't know if it's the right think for everyone until he reaches home.

when he parks the car and takes you up to his flat, he can hear the television blaring harry potter from outside the flat, and he can see the way your eyebrows furrow at the sound. so he slowly unlocks the door, to reveal his two daughters sitting on the couch, undoubtedly watching their favourite harry potter movies again, wearing identical pyjamas specially designed for the identical twins.

he can hear you gasp as you step into the house, and the girls come into your view.

there's an awkward moment of silence and staring, before sol comes running to him and wraps herself around his waist. "appa! we're right at the last scene of prisoner of azkaban, your favourite part!"

seungcheol almost tears up. how can they welcome him so warmly every night even though he's come home so late?

he clears his throat. "sounds like you've been having fun, girls. but first, say hello to y/n unnie-"

"imo," you whisper next to him, your figure shrunk with the cold.

"no unnie," he whispers back. "this is choi sol, our maknae, and that's choi byul, my eldest." the girls wave and shyly say hello, their dimpled smiles flashing politely as they bow. you bow back, "hi sol and byul! sorry you're meeting unnie in this state~"

"are you also a lawyer?"

"did you get caught in the rain?"

"do you work with appa in his office?"

"do you want fresh clothes?"

you giggle at the contrasting questions from the two girls, their starkly different personalities evident. "yes, yes, no, and yes please, if you could be so kind," you smile back, your dainty lips curving into a pretty bow that takes his breath away. sollie shifts from where she'd been wrapped around seungcheol to take your hand gently. "do you think my clothes will fit you? i think byul's clothes will. she has a very warm nightdress..." and she drags you away to her room, welcoming you in without even a single moment's hesitation. byul is more reserved in her welcome, but still warm. she follows the two of you shortly, and seungcheol is left at his doorstep alone, but filled with such a flurry of emotions in his heart that leaves his soul warmed unlike he's felt in years.

about twenty minutes later, he comes out of his bathroom after a refreshing warm shower, his hair soft after the shampoo. he can hear voices from the kitchen, loud-pitched voices of his daughters and the softer, lower voice that he recognises as you.

"unnie, do you want to have ramen?" byul's voice rings out. "we were going to have ice cream but you might feel too cold for that." sol adds, "did you eat dinner, unnie? didn't appa eat dinner with you?" "no, w- we- he picked me on the way when he saw me stranded in the rain. we didn't have dinner... together."

seungcheol's heart breaks and heals a little at the same time. he's taken the right step for now... but seeing his little girls like this have generated images and thoughts in his mind that he had shelved away forever.

the idea of a family.

the idea of giving them a new mother figure.

as he walks towards the kitchen, he can see the way sol and byul cling to you although they've met you barely half an hour ago. perhaps it's because they don't have any cousins and you feel like a sister? perhaps it's because they like bossing over adults, especially since they boss over him so much? perhaps it's because they've already been charmed by your magnetic appeal- your softness and your innocence, mingled with an intelligence that lets you befriend everyone.

"are y'all annoying y/n already?" byul immediately faux pouts, and he can see your eyes light up. "seungcheol, she looks exactly like you," your voice whispers with the revelation. "yes, she's my daughter. kinda expected, don't you think?" he laughs. it's sarcastic of course, because sol and byul actually resemble him more than any other father-daughter pair he's seen in his life. it's almost like they haven't gotten any of their mother's genes. and seungcheol doesn't really regret it. it's been nine years, he's gotten over that pain. his only regret is to not be able to provide a second parent to his children, who'd grown up in spite of being cut off completely by their mother. and his busy life has left him with no space to date or even think of marriage...

except right now.

right now, when he sees you wearing byul's nightdress that barely reaches your knees, cooking ramen with sol sitting on the kitchen counter next to you, chatting away about harry potter, and byul carefully carving out ice cream into bowls for the four of them, seungcheol thinks maybe it's time.

maybe he's found the one.

and maybe, he's already fallen beyond scope to return.

_

you didn't get much chance to talk to seungcheol last night, but when you wake up on the guest bed the next morning, you can see him as soon as you open the door. he's sitting in the balcony, sipping a cup of tea, reading a newspaper, his glasses sitting prettily on his nose.

"morning," your voice is still raspy in spite of your sleep being perfectly fulfilling.

he turns to look at you, his gaze uncharacteristically soft, much different from how he sees you at court.

"hi. tea?"

you nod, and wobble over to sit next to him. the tea clears your throat a lot, and you can finally open your eyes wide enough to see the glorious view from his balcony. so you soak in the nature for some time, while seungcheol buries his nose into the newspaper again.

"i didn't know you were a father."

seungcheol hums. "did you like them? my girls? they liked you a lot."

"can't help but not like them. they balance each other so perfectly- as if they're your twin personas."

"that's deep."

"but it's true."

seungcheol chuckles and goes back to his newspaper. the morning air hits your face and you feel so much more alive than you'd normally do on a thursday morning. "when do you have to get to work?" he asks you.

"i still have about an hour and half left."

"will you go home and then-"

"yeah. the office is really close to my place, like a minute's walk. so i'll leave soon, don't worry-"

"you'll stay for breakfast." seungcheol says firmly. "the girls will want to see you before you leave."

and you can't turn that down. so you simply nod in agreement, carefully taking a look at the man sitting across you. seungcheol at home is so unimaginably different from seungcheol at court. if he's fire in the courtroom, then he's water at home. he's cold and practical in the real world, but with his daughters, he's the most gentle person you've met. something about the soft smile he gives when he indulges his girls. something about the way his eyes light up whenever they talk to him about anything, even if it's trivial. something about the way he's taken care of you since last night, not just giving you a shelter during a terrible night but also giving you so much warmth from his personal life. it's all made you see a completely different side to seungcheol than you'd met at the courtroom, and it's changed the way you've grown to see him completely.

now you know that seungcheol was not harsh to you that day at lunch, he was simply being realistic. his cockiness and arrogance is just self-confidence, it doesn't define who he is as a person. and he's still a man you can look up to and admit, without shame, to yourself that this is the ideal man in your eyes.

your phone pings right then, and you open it to see the mail that's arrived.

the cup of tea almost slips and falls from your hands as you jump up in your seat in joy. seungcheol looks up at you in alarm, "what happened?" your smile is bright, just like the sun this morning. "i have an emergency at work, i'll have to leave now! please say goodbye to sol and byul from my side!" and you rush into your room to change into your clothes from last night, still damp but at least cleaner, and you literally run out of the house, waving and thanking seungcheol again and again, leaving him very very confused indeed.

_

seungcheol feels incredibly at peace the next day when he walks into the courtroom. even though you'd disappeared suddenly like that without any explanation, he's quite sure that he's back in your good books. not that it matters much- because what really counts is how he's feeling about himself. and after many years, he's feeling good. the usual guilt that engulfs him as a whole every day as he wakes up to face a new morning, isn't bothering him. he feels like he's achieved something, he's done something right, and he's going to get better from now on.

but as soon as he pushes open the doors of the courtroom, he feels like he's missing something out. everyone on his side of the bench seems flustered as hell, papers rumpled and expressions distraught. but he doesn't get an opportunity to ask what's going on because you catch his attention first.

"seungcheol, can we talk for a second?"

"not right now, i have to talk to my team-"

"this is urgent. you'll want to hear this, i promise."

seungcheol lets out a long sigh as he takes in your words. there's a crisp confidence in your words today that intrigue him. "okay go ahead," he finally replies.

"in private, if you please." he follows you wordlessly out of the room, and you lead him out towards a small isolated office in the corner of the building, that's totally deserted. seungcheol leans back against the closed door, completely silent as he waits for you to settle your papers and finally look up at him.

"so what's this about? you wanna kiss me or someth-"

"you're going to lose the case today. i've found enough evidence to prove the absolute guilt of KNT, and the ceo will go to jail by the end of the court session today."

"you're bluffing me."

"i can show you the evidence, but i'd rather you'd see it in court."

"then why are you telling me this now? to pity me?" seungcheol's mouth fills with bile as a dread settles over him. the tables are turned- now he feels as rattled as he had seen you feel that day at lunch. what if you're being serious right now? what if you've actually found incriminating evidence? but he's gone through all potential sources of evidence with his client, left no stone unturned to hide all tracks-

"so that maybe you can step off the case in time. do you really want your daughters to find out you've been defending your client for so long knowing you're defending a criminal?"

seungcheol's heart skips a beat.

"do not bring them into this."

"i'm not bringing anyone into anything. this is just me being nice to you because i know what it feels like to be disappointed by someone you look up to."

"do you hear what you're saying, y/n?" he takes two steps closer to you. "this is borderline blackmail. i don't even know if you're bluffing or not, and you're already blackmailing me using my daughters. have you fallen to the same crude level i'm in? are you going to disappoint me like this?"

his words have the expected effect on you. he can see your cheeks flush pink. "seu-seungcheol, don't twist my words." you take a step back, your back straightening as he sees confidence seep back into your face.

"and maybe you should stop worrying about my morals and worry more about how badly you're going to lose the case. from next time, don't make rookie mistakes." your finals words, before you leave the room, ring in his ears and cause goosebumps to erupt all over his skin.

as soon as you're gone, seungcheol slams the desk in front of him, his brain running at a hundred miles an hour. what might have slipped from his sight? what might he have missed? he immediately calls the ceo of KNT enterprises.

"what have you been hiding from me?"

"oh? mr choi, what happened to greetings? good morning to yo-"

"nothing's good about today morning, mr kim. what have you been hiding from me? i'm not going to ask you again."

"nothing! i've bared my entire soul to you for the case."

"mr kim, there's a fresh piece of incriminating evidence that's been found, and i cannot do anything to stop mrs hwang's lawyer from submitting it to the court unless you tell me what it is exactly."

"mr choi, you're mistaken, there's nothing left to be wiped-"

"the first rule of a client and lawyer relationship," his voice is seething and snarky, volume rising with each word, "is that you should never lie to your lawyer." seungcheol knows if mr kim was in front of him right now, he'd be quaking in his shoes. he can imagine a similar situation on the other side of the phone too. he knows he's intimidating enough when he wants to be.

"i didn't think it would be important-"

"you're not the person to judge what's important and what's not, mr kim."

there's a sigh and the voice becomes shaky.

"there's an outstation branch..."

_

the case ends unceremoniously. there are no paparazzi waiting for you outside the courtroom, ready to capture your life's first win. there are no cameras flashing on you, no historic moments being documented, no crowds gathering to celebrate this win for the masses.

there's just seola's happy tears and a wildly beautiful feeling of victory in your heart as realisation ultimately sinks in for you. it's a clean win- the evidence showing unmatched proof of orders coming from KNT to mr hwang, detailing all sorts of illegal activities and even records of payments being made to mr hwang. it's really crazy how it's not been eradicated cleanly already by seungcheol. clearly, either he or his client had underestimated you.

but you'd proven them wrong.

yoona's the only who comes to see you outside the courtroom after the win. there's a bright smile on her face as she hugs you and congratulates you. seola promises that she's going to take you out on a treat right now. other colleagues from your workplace call you to congratulate you on the win.

and yet you feel empty.

seungcheol's gone. he hadn't come for the trial. he'd not been in the courtroom for the final statements, his aide quoting something about a family emergency. he'd run with his tail between his legs, ashamed of his failure and finally realising his stupidity. this thought should be giving you satisfaction, but surprisingly, it doesn't. it leaves you feeling empty, still wanting something even though you've won the case just now.

but there's no way to reach out to him. you don't even have his number for god's sake, and it would be awfully awkward to go to his house. and what would you say? that you missed seeing his sad face in court when the verdict was announced? that you wanted to see if he'd be proud of you for winning the case? that you wanted to impress him by beating him in the case cleanly without any dirty tricks? so you go to eat out with yoona and seola, and decide to stop thinking about seungcheol any further.

_

it's about seven in the evening when you make it back to your tiny flat in a shabby part of town, the house dark as you'd left it in the morning after rushing home from seungcheol's place. you smile to yourself when you unlock your home using the password on the door, thinking of how you'd been with seungcheol's adorable daughters last night, and how much fun you'd had with them.

your bag falls from your hand as you open the door.

"seungcheol?!" your voice is a shaky whisper, shocked to see him inside your house. "how the fuck did you get in?"

he's still wearing the suit he'd worn in the morning, and yet he looks divine in the dim reflection of lights from the world outside the window.

"your password's your birthday. got it on my first try."

"and how do you know my birthday?"

he takes a step closer, his body towering over yours. "shhh. it's called knowing your opponent."

there's something so oddly intimate about seeing him in your flat, in the shadows of your home. the street light illuminates one side of his face, and you can't breathe because of how gorgeous he looks.

"why do you know my birthday, seungcheol? really it's not going to help you in any way-"

"it did help me get into your house."

you lightly pick up the bag from on the floor next to you, and you walk past him. "which brings me back to the first question. why are you here?"

you're purposely avoiding his gaze, the intensity making you feel things. there's a plethora of emotions in your heart right now- finally the emptiness in your heart dissipates as you can feel yourself surrounded by seungcheol. you're taking off your blazer, untying your hair, walking over to the sink to wash your face... but you can't ignore the way you can feel seungcheol's eyes on your back. his heady scent clouds your senses, and you feel weak in your limbs. first he's intruding your house, and now your heart too?

"i have a question to ask you." he speaks after a long time, when you've finally cleaned up and taken out a cup of strawberry yoghurt from the refridgerator.

"you could've asked me on the phone." you lean back on a wall, putting yourself as far away from seungcheol as possible in your tiny flat. he's in the darkness, you're in the light, but you're still feeling small and vulnerable under his gaze.

"i couldn't. it's serious." he starts walking towards you.

"seungcheol, if this is about me trying to expose your shit, i'm not going t-" seungcheol puts his hand on your lips, pushing you against the wall.

"fuck that. this isn't about that."

you cock your eyebrow, mumbling against his hand, "then what is it about?"

seungcheol doesn't answer at once, his gaze continuing to pin you against the wall, and a hand comes around you to trap you between his bigger body and the wall. "seungcheol?"

"answer me honestly, okay?" his voice is raw, slightly wobbly, and you're getting more and more curious. you nod slowly, encouraging him to say whatever's on his mind. but he doesn't say anything. a few minutes pass just like that- or maybe an hour. his scent makes you dizzy, you can't think of anything but how his big figure is over you totally.

"when you said you looked up to me in college... i know i ruined that image. b- but... can you... fuck. wait. canyoueverforgiveme?"

"what?" you ask, confused at what he just said. he removes the hand from your mouth, standing even closer than before.

"can you ever forgive me? will you let me show you a better side of me? can i ever get in your good books again?"

your breath stops for a second. why does this matter for him? doesn't he already know the state he's left your heart in since last night- ever since he'd brought you into his car, he's already been promoted to your ideal man again.

"show me a better side of you? what do you mean, seungcheol?"

he sighs for a second, before straightening his posture, becoming impossibly even bigger.

"will you ever see me as a man, y/n?"

your knees almost give in. the fuck is his implying? are you dreaming this? is this a fever drea-

seungcheol leans in and kisses your cheek, close enough to your lips, his breath falling on your skin, and making your body tingle. "will you let me show you myself to you like this?" on instinct, you tilt your head away to give him more access, your body shivering with the intimacy. so he kisses your cheek again, closer yet to your lips, and you turn your head slightly to capture his lips, but he moves away.

"y/n, don't leave me hanging please. i know you might find this odd... but i've come to feel things for you that i didn't even know remained in me. you're an extraordinary woman, one of a kind. in all my life, i haven't met anyone like you. not even my ex-wife. you don't know this yet but you're the ideal image of perfection i've always thought of."

then he stops talking for a second, clearly expecting an answer from you. but your mind can't form words, not with the way you have tunnel vision on his face right now, your eyes drifting to his pretty cherry lips, to his long eyelashes, to the beautifully expressive eyes you've fantasised about since your college days.

"y/n, say something please." his voice is desperate, and you break out of your daze.

"you're my ideal man too, seungcheol. you have no idea for how long." there's a blush creeping on your cheeks, but in the dim yellow lighting, you can see an identical blush rise on his cheeks too. so you lean in and finally kiss his elusive lips, feeling the taste of his chapped but pretty lips on yours, feeling the way his body steps even closer to yours, one arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you to him, and your body melts as you feel the warmth from his body. the kisses slowly grow in pace, the momentum rising, as he kisses you more and more hungrily, his tongue entering your mouth too, as he begins to bite your lips and leaves you breathless and moaning just from a few kisses.

"god, rookie. you sure know how to kiss."

"i know how to do a lot of things, seungcheol." you know you're bad at dirty talk, you've never really succeeded at it during your few college experiences of sex. but somehow, seungcheol's eyes roll back at your words and you feel his heartbeat quicken up too. maybe it's working on him?

you try to test your hypothesis by gently wrapping your hands around his neck, slowly untying his tie, slipping it to the floor. once it's off, you rub your hands all over his chest, feeling the pure hard muscle flex under your muscles. his breathing is as hot and heavy as yours, and you slowly untuck his shirt from his pants, unbuttoning it carefully.

"must you torture me like this, y/n?" his eyes are glazed over, but you look up at him innocently. "what, seungcheol?" "fuck it, you're such a tease, princess." princess. he pushes you against the wall and kisses you again, one hand wrapped around your hair as he pulls you in, and another hand helping you unbutton his shirt and get it out of the way. seungcheol doesn't stop kissing you even when he begins to unbutton your own shirt, but his hands wander all over the skin he slowly unravels. it's like his own adventure mission, the gentle but urgent way he touches your skin, almost worshipping.

"you're so perfect, y/n." you whimper when he cups your breasts from over your simple black bra that does nothing to flaunt your tits, but somehow seungcheol's appreciating it all. are you really his perfect woman?

"do you mean it, seungcheol?" your voice is so weak, but it takes seungcheol aback. "what do you mean, y/n? you don't think i find you beautiful? is that why i've been dreaming about you every night these days? is that why you're always on my mind? is that why i died and came back from heaven last night when i saw you with my kids?" your breath hitches as he tilts your face to look at him. "you're the most perfect woman i've ever met, i told you. you've gotta believe me, y/n. or do i have to show you?"

"maybe, yes?"

he groans at your words, and his eyes become darker. "fuck, where's your bedroom, babe?"

_

seungcheol's touch is like moonlight caressing the ripples of a pond at midnight. a soft, gentle touch that lights up every inch of your skin that he touches. as the moonlight kisses the water and makes it ebb and flow with it, seungcheol's movements guide your body too. he's laying you out on a bed, his hands wandering all over your skin. as he takes in your figure, you let him, because he's making you feel so good. he kisses all over your body, your limbs tangling as you can't get enough of each other. seungcheol is all muscle, his hard planes flexing against your supple skin. he pins you against the headpost of your small double size bed, one hand wrapped around your waist, and the other caressing your breasts, making sure there's not even a single inch of your skin that's left untouched.

"did i tell you i think you're perfect?" his words are feverish, and leave you lost for words. so you can't reply to him, hoping he gets the way you feel about him too through your desperate whines and moans, pulling him closer if he puts even a hair's distance between your bodies. something about him being so big and engulfing your smaller stature is so hot, you can feel yourself getting aroused by the minute.

"seungcheol, i w- want to... touch you," you finally whisper out, and he pulls away from where he's been kissing your neck. "but you are?"

you shake your head and shove him lightly until he's on his back, and you're hovering above him. he's still wearing his pants while he's stripped you naked, so you do the honours for him. "what are you doing," his voice is strained. "want to touch you there," you focus on taking his trousers off until he's just in his underwear under you- his bulge quite obvious to you. if you weren't wet enough earlier, seeing the massive wet patch on his grey boxers leaves your own underwear soaked. is he this aroused because of you?

seungcheol seems to read your mind as he brings your face towards his own, whispering with hot breath, "do you see what you do to me, princess? got me wrecked and ruined." his confession is so raw, you lean in to kiss him again. as you do, your hand wraps around his clothed dick, and he groans into your mouth. "fuck fuck fuck," he curses as you begin to rub it softly. "i'm going to cum right now if you do that- babe, p-please!" he finally gets your hand off his dick, eyes large.

and then you giggle. something about seeing seungcheol so desperate triggers something off in you, makes you more determined to ruin him. so you pull off his boxers and take his erect, red cock straight into your mouth. seungcheol's body trembles with surprise, your name leaving his mouth in broken moans as he cannot take the pleasure of your mouth sucking him off in an excruciatingly slow speed. and you don't stop, even when his hand comes around the nape of your neck to keep you in place, even when you feel his entire body tense up with the imminent orgasm. you don't stop until he comes inside your mouth, spewing string after string of his hot seed, and you swallow it all. his breathing is laboured as he watches you lick off the last bits of the orgasm from his dick.

but your self-satisfaction of having the upper hand only lasts for so long. seungcheol's competitive side kicks in soon and he quickly flips over to pin you under him on the bed, his teeth nibbling at your chest, leaving pretty hickeys all over.

"let me return the favour, darling."

you don't know what he means right then by return the favour, but never in your wildest dreams, did you think it would include seungcheol burying his face into your cunt, his nose rubbing against your clit as his tongue laps up your wetness.

"fuck! no- seungcheol- pl-please, cheol!"

"do you want me to stop?" he asks you, his face barely moving up inches from your pussy to look into your eyes.

you hesitate before answering, so he softly kisses your stomach. "tell me, princess."

"i've never done this before..."

"what? sex?"

"no. oral. like no one's ever gone down on me before..."

and seungcheol doesn't waste another minute. he uses his teeth to push aside your panties and inserts his tongue right into your sloppy cunt, and you scream out his name. he doesn't go slow, and you don't want him to go slow. he's showing you all the stars in the sky, so you grab onto his hair to move his head back to a particularly good spot, and he moans incoherently when you tug at his locks. and within minutes, you're reaching your high, your screams getting stuck in your throat as you close your eyes and arch your back off the bed.

thankfully, seungcheol gets his face out of your cunt and hovers over you to take in your writhing figure under the impact of the orgasm.

"so how was your first experience?" he asks you when you finally open your eyes and look at him, his lips smeared with your essence and his body.

"heavenly," you whisper, before pulling him into you, and kissing him again. you can get drunk on his kisses. he's leaving your lips abused and raw, but when he's spitting into your mouth, you wrap your legs around his waist to pull him closer, feeling the toughness of his back muscles shift under your touch. this position ends up making his cock graze against your clit, and you jerk in overstimulation. but you can feel how hard he's getting with the kissing and the way your hands are tugging his hair. the heavy length rests on your stomach, and seungcheol pulls away.

"need to be inside you now, princess." his words have this rawness to them- long gone is the smooth-talker lawyer choi seungcheol. it takes several moments for you to process that you've caused him to descend to this desperation.

"do you have a condom?" he asks you.

"hmm, i do." you point towards the dresser next to your bed, and he casually bends away to take it out from the dresser. you're getting more turned on by his easy flexibility, and as soon as he's got the condom rolled on to his dick, you pull him for kisses again.

"patience, baby," he laughs, as he pulls away again after kissing you, to nudge the tip of his dick on your folds. "nooo, need you now. need your lips." "did my kisses break you?" "i think so," your voice is a whisper and he leans in to kiss you again, a beautiful smile showing off his dimples.

and then he's slowly pushing inside you, making you whine out his name as you feel him stretch you. it's not an easy fit, but his kisses make the pain easier to bear. when a tear escapes your eyes, he asks you, his eyebrows furrowed in concern, "is it very painful?" "not very but it's been a while." he leaves kisses on your hairline. "i'll be gentle, princess."

you grip his locks tighter, pulling his face away to make eye contact.

"you better not dare, choi seungcheol."

something breaks in him. his hips begin to move faster, as he pushes your hands above your head, holding them as if handcuffed, and he's biting hickeys all over your neck. he's thrusting harder now, and your second-hand bed is already making noises. but it seems to arouse you more for some reason. something about him shaking everything around you and moulding you and everything about you to him makes you want him more.

you can't stop moaning his name, as he whispers into your ear, "i can feel how close you are baby. can feel your cunt clenching around me." "pl-please, cheol. need you more, please!" "more? faster?" you nod feverishly, and he pulls away, biting his bottom lip in concentration, one hand gripping the bed, and the other your leg around his waist, as he fucks into you.

you take in his full form, towering over you like adonis. beads of sweat falling down his pecs and his hair falling into his eyes. the sight is so beautiful that you cum right then, even as seungcheol fucks you through the orgasm.

you can feel that he's close, his dick twitching inside you, as he's making your eyes roll back. even after one orgasm, he keeps fucking you. "give me one more, baby. cum with me." and then he shifts one hand to rub your clit, and you moan under the additional touch. the last straw is when you clench around him so hard that he lets out a strangled moan and reaches his climax too. you can feel the condom become warmer, and you tremble all over as you cum again because of that sensation.

when your eyes open again, seungcheol's pulled out from you, but he sneakily lets in a finger in between your folds and licks it clean.

"seungcheol?" your broken whisper makes him look up at you.

he smirks. "you taste like nectar, baby."

_

seungcheol's insomnia doesn't let him get a full night's sleep on most nights. if he's lucky, he'll sleep for four hours at once, dreamless rest that leaves him fully charged for the next day. on other days, he'll stare into the night sky for hours, sleep eluding him. some nights he'll go to his daughters' room, and watch them sleep, his heart filling up with a warmth that's comforting like chicken soup. on other nights, he'll open his laptop, put on his glasses and finish his case files.

everyone wonders how seungcheol is so efficient at his profession. only he knows why.

but ever since you've come into his life, everything's changed.

he can no longer focus on work. he's distracted, making silly typing errors and forgetting details. but he's sleeping the best ever in a long time. he doesn't remember when was the last time he'd slept this well. it must've been before the fights had started with his ex-wife.

today, seungcheol sleeps for eight hours straight.

and he knows why.

it's because he's wrapped around you, your body melting into his under the duvet. your head's resting on his arm, but his arm doesn't hurt at all. your hair shines with the sunlight streaming in through the gaps between the curtains, but you sleep through the slight pouring into your eyes. you look particularly angelic today morning, and he feels his entire being shiver with the new-found affection for you.

you're his.

finally.

well, hopefully.

jeonghan had told him yesterday when he'd told him about his feelings for you, you've not been turned down until you've been turned down. so shoot your shot.

and oh, he had shot his shot. shot it too fast in fact. the clarity of the morning makes him suddenly worry if going straight into your bed last night had been too quick and you'll think poorly of him now. then there's the worry about you going to sleep without eating dinner last night- what if you wake up angry? another worry crops in his head as he realises it's a saturday. he doesn't have to go to work today, but you might have to. what if you get upset at him for not waking you up on time? the warm, glorious light in seungcheol's heart dims slightly as he realises you have so many reasons to turn him down.

so he lightly shakes you, whispering your name in your ear, until he feels you whisper out a soft five minutes. it makes his heart melt again, but he's more worried about you missing a work day.

"wake up, princess, you're going to be late."

as if hearing a magic word, you jolt awake, staring right into his eyes.

"late?! what's the time? fuck, it's nine-thirty!"

"it's saturday though. do you have work today?"

and then you fall back on his arm with a huff.

"saturday! of course i don't have work today. why did you wake me up!" you whine and turn around so that you're now snuggled into seungcheol's bare chest, your hair only slightly tickling him. the warm light in his heart shines bright again as he feels you cling to him.

"i didn't know if you work on saturday or not." seungcheol leaves a kiss in your hair, and you let out a satisfied sigh.

"now you know. never forget, okay? never wake me up on weekends."

never forget.

"i won't." another kiss in your hair. another sigh that makes his chest buzz. another kiss. and then you open one eye to peer at him, and he smiles at your cuteness. so there's another kiss, and then another, and then-

"stop!" you move out of his arms, giggling, your eyes finally open.

"i can't. you're too cute."

"shhhh!" you lean in to kiss him on the mouth, a gentle peck, and seungcheol takes the opportunity to wrap you in his arms again. "don't go far away." he's more serious that his tone implies, but somehow you realise that too. so you snuggle in closer, your head almost on his chest now. "i won't."

after a few long minutes of you being still in his arms, and him smelling your scent through your hair, you finally shuffle and pull him down so that his head is now resting on the pillow and you're resting your head on your palm, perched on the pillow using your elbow as support, looking down at him with clear fondness in your eyes.

"you're very romantic today, mr choi."

"do you not like it?"

"no. on the contrary, i love it."

at your words, he smiles, and you let out a fake gasp. "the rabbit has dimples!" and you attack his face with kisses, leaving him giggly and blushing as you smother him with love.

when you're finally done, he pulls your face in for a kiss and then you go back to your position to look at him from above.

"come lie down next to me."

"no this view is prettier."

seungcheol scoffs, hiding the way his heart is racing with your words. it's been years since anything barely romantic- a few dates here and there. but this is teenage seungcheol again, falling head over heels for a girl with a pretty smile and a cute way of speaking her mind.

"this view is the prettiest," he says and he's rewarded with your pretty smile again. so he spends a minute staring at the view, taking in your beauty.

you've not been turned down until you've been turned down. so shoot your shot. somehow jeonghan's nagging voice comes up in his head again and makes him remember that he's yet to ask you properly.

so he counts to three and says it.

"i like you, y/n. a lot. as i told you last night."

a strawberry latte blush taints your cheeks.

"and as i told you last night, you're pretty much my dream man, seungcheol. i've been crushing on you since my freshman year."

well that was easy.

"that long?" seungcheol feels his confidence cruise back, a smirk on his lips.

"don't laugh at me."

"i'm not. it's just unbelievable that you liked me back then. i wasn't even well off back then."

"who even cares about that! you were confident, manly, intelligent and passionate about your work. and so, so handsome. how could anyone not like you?"

"am i not handsome now?"

"of course you are, silly. that's why i still like you." you roll your eyes, as if it's so obvious. "i couldn't even date guys for a long time because i kept comparing them to you in my mind."

seungcheol's eyes go wide. "wait, really? that's kinda sad."

you laugh. "maybe, but who cares? none of them were nice in the end. that's why i kept going back to crushing on you." you lean in to kiss the mole on his cheek.

"how long has it been since your last relationship?"

"hmmm, about seven months? broke up before i graduated."

"and sex?" he hopes you can't see the way he's holding back his breath as you answer. "about a year."

and then he lets out his breath.

"and you?" you ask him, running your fingers through his hair.

he hesitates before replying. "nine years," his voice is weak.

and then you do what he's been fearing for so long.

you laugh.

"wow. that's like... that is long." but your expression changes into a serious one soon. "but you haven't lost any of your technique yet. so it's a win in my books. i don't even have to be jealous of anyone else. who was your last lucky lady?"

"my ex-wife." seungcheol winces as he mentally prepares himself for all the reasons you might turn him down.

but you don't. your serious expression remains even as you're surprised. "you were married? is she the mother of sol and byul?"

"yeah."

you nod your head slowly, digesting the information. after a second you say, "i can't fathom why anyone would leave you and your two perfect little girls."

seungcheol's smile turns bitter. "she did. but it doesn't matter. she's found a better life now, after moving away to the US with her new husband. and i've found a better life too, moving away from her."

you nod again. "you're very brave, cheol." and you kiss his cheek again, and seungcheol's heart swells at how maturely you've handled this conversation. but there's yet more reasons for you to reject him.

when you pull away to look at him again, you softly ask him, "are your daughters okay with the idea of you dating again?" dating. there are tingles all over seungcheol's body as you finally quash all worries from his mind. "i haven't explicitly discussed this with them," he says with some hesitation. "that being said, i think they like you a lot. you made a very strong first impression. and trust me, for ten year olds as stubborn as mine, a first impression is all that matters."

"they're just like you," you giggle, your hand fondly cupping his cheek. "but seriously. they like me as a friend... as your colleague. what if they don't like me as your... girlfriend?"

girlfriend. seungcheol wants to flip you down on the bed and make love to you all over again, but he resists his urge. he settles for wrapping his hand around your hips and caressing them. "they'll love you, princess. they've longed for a mother figure for long enough." after a pause he says, "i'm worried they'll not see you as a mother figure but as a sister."

you burst out laughing. "what?!"

"i'm much older than you, y/n."

"so?"

"i'm thirty-six, y/n."

"that's not old. i'm twenty-three."

seungcheol chokes on his own words. "exactly. i'm literally old enough to be your father, y/n."

"well, you'd have to become a father really really early then," you say, laughing.

"y/n, be serious."

"i am being serious. i've met men who're twenty but act like they're forty. what really matters is what you've got here-" and you poke at his chest where his heart's supposed to be.

"i'm going to die thirteen years before you!"

"darling, i don't think that's how death works."

darling. seungcheol's heart hammers against his chest as he pulls you in for a deep kiss. and then you pull away from him. "you're a dilf, seungcheol. that's like 80% of why i'm attracted to you. bet i wouldn't be attracted to twenty-three year old you." there's a teasing glint in your eyes, but seungcheol still whines as he feels upset at your teasing words. "babyyyy!" you laugh at his deepening pout, and lean in to kiss his pout in a peck, before getting out of bed.

seungcheol's mouth falls open as he takes in your soft curves which look even more alluring in the daylight. something about the way your ass sways as you walk makes his dick twitch in interest, but seungcheol curses himself. he can't be thirty-six and this hormonal, for fucks' sake.

you open the closet door to pull out a loose t-shirt and shorts, wearing them without any underwear. "do you want to stay for breakfast?"

a lazy grin spreads on seungcheol's face as he stretches his body in bed, relishing the way you ogle his stretching biceps, and he casually pushes the blanket away from his hips to reveal his toned stomach to you too.

"i want to stay for the rest of my life, rookie."

he's left with no doubt of reciprocation of his feeling as he sees the blush on your face as you hide and run from him at his cheesy words.

[ohtobeleah]

Bruises // Jake Seresin

Summary: After a mission goes south, Jake finds himself captured by insurgents that show no remorse. But what’s worse than knowing he failed his mission? Knowing that the Weapons Systems Officer who trusted him to bring her home safe was in the same cell as him. Collecting bruises that match his own.

Mini Series Warnings: Heavy themes of violence, sexual assault, torture. 18+ content. Minors DNI. Mature themes. Being held in captivity. Hostage style situation. Main character death! Whump, Angst. Conversations that discuss antisocial & antisemitism views.

Author Note: THIS SERIES IS CONFRONTING, FICTIONAL, AND DEPICTS IMAGES OF TORTURE. DO NOT READ PAST THIS POINT IF YOU BELIEVE THAT THIS SERIES WILL BE DETRIMENTAL TO YOUR MENTAL STABILITY. CURATE YOUR OWN TIMELINE.

Chapter One: [Happily Ever Afters Don’t Exist] A certain naval aviator shows up on your front doorstep right on cue. Because when the nightmares are too hard to handle on their own? You and Jake find solace in one another’s presence. (2.5k ) (Out Now)

Chapter Two: [Tactile Takedown] When a missile is headed right for Roosters F-18, Jake makes a decision that could end up costing you your life. (4.4k) (Out Now)

Chapter Three: [In The Arms Of The Enemy] Both you and Jake come face to face with the man you only know as ‘The Commander’ who you soon find out has very little patience for bullshit. (4.6k) (Out Now)

Hotshot: The moments before you were brought into your cell & the memory that haunted Jake Seresins mind. (1.3k )

Chapter Four: [Men & Their Many Masks] You and Jake find yourselves alone in his cell for what feels like a week. Passing the time with mundane conversations. But when The Commander and his fellow officers finally come back? Things take a turn for the worst. (5.3k) (Out Now)

Chapter Five: [Emerald City:] *** You’re forced against your will by three insurgents all the while Jake helplessly watches on. In return? He’s given a gift made only for the broken hearted. (4.8k) (Out Now)

Chapter Six: [Ninety in Five] *** Hours, Days, Weeks, Months. Just how long have you and Jake been enduring the horrific torture at the hands of a Rogue Nations Commander. (5.4k) (Out Now)

Chapter Seven: [War Wounds in the Ward] When help finally arrives, Jake believes it may be too late. The extent of both your injuries are finally revealed and the both you come face to face with the reality of just how long you’d been held in captivity for. (7.4k) (Out Now)

Chapter Eight: [The Platform] When Jake wakes up beside you after seeking refuge in your company, he’s forced to face a nightmare he thought would only ever exist in his mind. (1.6k) (Out Now)

Epilogue: [Before, During & Never After] There one place Jake Seresin knows where to find you after he’s woken by a startling bark. (1.6k) (Out Now)

Concepts / Blurbs.

-> [Don’t Wanna Miss My Stop] Jake Overdoses

-> [Don’t Blame Me] Jake doesn’t blame himself for how you died. He blames himself for why you died.

Status: Complete

Life After Death Spin off Series

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Crash and Burn 5

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Tony Stark

Summary: a powerful man comes crashing into your life. Literally.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You sit on the back porch, reading a book as you avoid the dingy tabacco laden walls inside. After claiming a couple slices of pizza, you quickly evacuated, your mom latched onto your guest like gum beneath a diner table. You're happy enough to be alone.

You just want it all done with. You want to be done with him.

Your mom just needs to do one thing. Get the trailer and be done with the man overdosing on his own ego. She's never been on to let things go, especially nothing like this.

The screen door opens and closes. You stay as you are.

“Your chariot awaits, princess,” Tony declares as he approaches. You look up as he stands behind you.

“What do you mean?” You close the book and stand, not liking how his pant leg touches your arm. You face him as his mouth slants, the silver in his goatee catching the dimming sunlight.

“Me. Gonna take you for another ride.” He rests his hand on the wooden railing as you stand on the step below.

“No,” you say bluntly. “I have work tomorrow so I need to go get ready for bed.”

“What’s the matter? If you don’t like pepperoni, you could’ve said something,” he tilts his head. "I thought you had extensive experience with meat... workong in a deli and all."

“Really? You know this isn’t about the pizza,” you sneer.

“I know what it’s about as well as you.” He steps closer and looks down at you. “It’s this.”

He swirls his finger between you.

You narrow your eyes and grimace. “This... what?”

“Sexual tension. It’s like a noose, isn’t it? I’m close to gagging.”

You glare back at him, “you really believe every woman on earth wants you?”

“I know it so let's stop fucking around just get to the fucking.” He winks.

You laugh. A snort then a scoff then a guffaw. “Wow, what a line. Look you can buy us pizza and replace what you owe us but I'm nor impressed. You city people think we're all just a bunch of trailer trash and maybe we are, doesn't mean we wanna be like you.”

“Oh, but you definitely want me,” he intones.

You sigh, “I want to go to my room and never see you again.”

“I like that. The hard-to-get thing always gets me going.” He gets closer and you lean away.

“The hard to stand thing doesn't do it for me,” you retort. “Thanks for doing the bare minimum but I'm over it. Either we get what you destroyed or you go back and laugh at your little mistake with your rich buddies.”

“You're sounding bitter, sweetheart. Why don't you let me give you some sugar?” He reaches for you and you dodge his hand.

“Please, quit that. I told you, I am not into it.”

“You aren't? Well your mom sure is. Yeah, we made quite the deal. She's going to get her trailer and an empty nest.” He puts his hands out in nonchalance, “what can I say? I'm a great negotiator.”

“What–”

“Well, I mean you're not going anywhere here. Working at a deli and for what? I told her, you don't gotta be stuck here. Eating off her table, living under her roof. You're an adult.” He crosses his arms and smirks.

Yep, that sounds like your mom. She's reminded you a billion times how you've burdened her with your existence, just as your grandmother does to her. And he plucked on that string until he hit a harmony.

“What did you do?” You ask.

“You make it sound like I did something wrong. Sweetheart, I'm doing you a favour. I'm getting you out of this pit. A girl like you, you can't hope for better because I'll tell you something, there's nothing out there better than Tony Stark.”

He preens in victory. You squint and clap the book against your leg.

“Come on, everyone should see New York at least once,” he tries to tap your nose and you evade him, but not entirely. Instead, he hits your chest and you feel a sudden constriction across it.

Your ripped up by your chest as metal expands and twists around your torso. You shriek as you fly upwards, encased in a cocoon the blocks out the wind. The propulsion of the suit has you disoriented and rattling.

You hear a whir and look over to see the marquee red and gold of the iconic Iron Man. Tony grabs you, your gauntlet caught against his like a magnet, and he zooms off onto sky, dragging you with him. You cry out as you can do nothing but flail.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he voice comes through the speakers built into the helmet, “you don't wanna pass out in this thing. Trust me.”

“What the hellllllll!” You holler.

“Just wait till you see that New York skyline,” he chortles.

Your disbelief paralyses you. How can he do this? Well, you can't stop him. He's been enabled his whole life and you've just become another pawn to his games.

[samkerrworshipper]

revival | arsenal x reader

arsenal reader has been struggling more than she’d ever admit.. when it becomes to much she attempts to take her life but her teammates refuse to let her kill herself when she has so much more to live for.

warnings: do not read if you are triggered by suicide attempt, pill overdose, cutting, severe depression, angst, hurt/comfort

You didn’t know what had gotten you to this stage. Sitting on the bathroom floor of your apartment, staring down at an empty bottle of pills lying beside you on the floor. You weren’t sure exactly what had gotten you here, weren’t sure what switch had flicked in your brain this morning that had made you feel so positively broken from the inside out.

All you know is that right now you can feel deep purple, mauve and maroon bruises developing on your knees, from being hunched over the toilet bowl for so long.

Just when you begin to think that you’re empty, just when you think that there is nothing more that could be ripped away from you, you feel your muscles tense again as more bile is released.

Obviously, you knew the concoction of pills you took wouldn’t sit well, but you didn’t realise it would kick in this fast. You’d figured you’d have time to come to terms with the end of your life, or at least have time to scribble out a not.

But, all the pills you’d forced down your throat now resided in the toilet bowl, a mixture of stomach acid and medication pooling on the surface of the water.

It’s then that you make the decision that it’s time to take a different approach.

As you palm the metal blade, the cold sharp edge gently digging into your skin.

All you can think about is your team, your family, your home.

You think of the cold meal sitting on your kitchen bench.

At first, the metal burns, it stings and sears.

Almost as painful as the burning tears leaking down your cheeks.

Slowly, as more pressure is applied, your wrist is warmed by the pooling scarlett puddle dripping down onto the bright white tiles.

You’ve been sitting on the cold floor for way too long for your liking, your wrists pressed to the flooring to try and calm the burning sensation that’s spread all across your forearms.

If you try hard enough, you can convince yourself that the burning sensation is just another football injury.

You try and picture it, lying on the grass of a pitch, your arm throbbing with pain.

It only works for as long as your brain believes it, which is a total of ten seconds.

It’s been a long day, long week, long month, long year.

A long time pretending you're happy.

A long time try to convince everyone you’re happy.

A long time trying to persuade yourself that you’re happy.

A long time lying.

You’ve become so consumed with the lies that it’s hard to not be completely committed to them at this stage.

The only thing that reminds you of exactly where you are is the cold tiles against your arms, the warm blood and cold tiles mixing together like a thunderstorm.

The only sound to be heard across your apartment is the steady sound of blood dripping onto the tiles.

You think about your goodbyes, think about how this is the end, that you are content with this being it for you.

You’ve been at peace with this decision for a long while, longer than you’d ever care to admit.

It’s not really a decision for you, more like a losing battle.

In the last year, you’ve lost more of yourself than you thought possible, you don’t feel like you belong to yourself anymore, you don’t belong to yourself anymore. At one stage, a while ago, you loved yourself, you cared about yourself, you did your best to care. It hurt, feeling like you were no longer a owner of your body, maybe if you weren’t no longer classified as two different parts would you feel this way, or maybe it would make it harder, because maybe it wouldn’t feel like you were just getting rid of a body that you no longer belonged to, this was all to easy.

Your body was now something to be sold, something to be advertised, something to be purchased by the public.

You supposed that came from being a champion, being famous, being good at what you did.

Maybe, if you’d never become a famous soccer player none of this would have happened, you wouldn’t be lying on your bathroom floor, your vision slowly blurring and your blood leaking out steadily from your arms.

You walk towards the darkness, allowing it to embrace you as you slowly approach it without any resistance.

There was no fight for you, no hope or thoughts of redemption, this was your end, your demise, your final page, and that was okay.

You let the darkness completely cloud your vision, your body slowly being wrapped up by the accepting white light at the end of the tunnel.

It’s warm and comforting and you let your body rest, let it finally have the respite that it was so desperate for.

You felt yourself fade, far away with no intention of coming back.

You’d felt like you were gone, but you were brought back by more overwhelmingly white light in your vision.

Was this heaven?

Was this the end?

Was this it?

You were in pain, your head, your throat, your arms.

It was this thought that made you think you could be wrong.

Was this hell?

Or was the overwhelming white light just your bathroom tiles?

You cancelled out the tile idea, because you could feel your eyelids were closed, which meant that the white couldn’t be sourced from your home.

Your ears were ringing and as everything began to come back to you, it became terrifyingly clear that this could not be any of your previous assumptions.

Death wasn’t this painful, death wasn’t supposed to have any feeling.

Death didn’t feel like a warm bed and it definitely wasn’t consciousness.

This wasn’t the great beyond, this wasn’t the end, this was something else that you couldn’t quite pin down.

As your senses began to come back to you, your hearing and slowly your consciousness you began to become certain that whatever this was, it was not your end.

The sound of a constant machine beeping gave you an inkling as to where you might be, you just silently prayed that you were wrong, silently prayed that you would wake up in your red soaked tile bathroom and not a hospital.

You could clean up, try again.

You couldn’t handle being forced to recover, being forced to talk about your feelings.

It wasn’t something on your agenda, it wasn’t a part of your intricate demise.

You didn’t want to open your eyes, you weren’t even sure if you could, but you wanted to understand your situation, to understand what was happening.

So, you used every piece of your energy that was left, to every so slowly crack open your eyes.

It was more overwhelming white, that took a good deal of blinking to work through, but eventually, a blurry version of your surroundings began to appear in the corners of your eyes.

It confirmed your suspicions, you were in a hospital.

Which you hated, but you had also been prepared for, it made you feel insanely unaccomplished.

It took a lot of blinking and squinting for you to fully take in your surroundings.

The part that stumped you the most, and made you feel like you were hallucinating was the sea of red hoodies that were sitting, sleeping and lying around your room.

It was dark outside, the room was still lit up with machines and the bright white light from the corridor, but you figured that most of your teammates were fast asleep.

It was good, it gave you some extra time to take in your surroundings.

You were covered in cords and wires, your body completely moving even as you tried your very hardest.

Both of your wrists were bandaged tightly, to the point where you were completely unable to even wiggle your fingers.

It was daunting to you, the complete inability to do anything but lie in the bed and bear witness to your inability to do anything besides that.

Just as you were beginning to get truly distressed, one of the red blobs in your peripheral popped up out of their seat, making their way over to your bedside and tracing their hand over your one.

“Hey, ducky, it’s okay, I’ve got you, deep breaths. You’re okay.”

It’s Beth’s voice that hits your ears, and it has the reverse effect, making you more stressed out about the fact that she’s here witnessing this.

“Honey, it’s okay, big deep breaths for me, you’re okay.”

Beth’s hand moves up to your chest, your chest that is covered with a scratchy hospital gown.

“I shouldn’t be here, I-I-I’m supposed to be dead.”

Your words are croaky and chesty, almost unrecognisable but Beth manages to decipher them, and it almost brings tears to her eyes.

“Hey, hey, absolutely not. I thank every single god that you're here and awake right now, it is a miracle that you are here.”

This was not a miracle.

This was a fucking tragedy.

Beth’s face though, it was enough to send a deep pain to your stomach, deep guttural pain that hurt more than anything else.

“S-should be dead, wish I was dead.”

Beth’s face just drops, tears springing from her eyes and falling down onto the hospital sheets.

“Ducky, I promise you, we are all going to try our very hardest to make sure you never feel like that again. Get some more rest, we can sort this all out in the morning but you need your sleep, your body needs rest.”

You didn’t have energy to argue with Beth, so you nodded, relaxing back against the pillows and letting sleep and darkness return to the forefront of your brain.

When you awoke for the second time, it was less painful.

The sun was up this time, your room flooded with early sunbeams.

Overall the hospital was abuzz, to your extreme displeasure.

You were met with the eyes of some of your closest teammates, your words under the stars with Beth at the forefront of your mind as you looked at the extreme disappointment and sadness playing across their faces.

It hit home for you.

They all shared the same expression, all of you sharing the same situation that none of you wanted to be a part of.

“Hey Ducky, how are you feeling?”

Katie’s voice breaks the silence, her tone is full of emotion and you watch her mouth twitch to the side as she obviously tries her hardest to conceal the emotions that she is feeling.

“Like I wish I was dead.”

Nobody laughs, nobody says anything besides purse their lips and bite their tongues.

“We’re so glad you aren’t though, and we’re going to help you.”

We’re going to help you.

It’s five words, seven syllables, and the words that you least want to hear.

“Why couldn’t you just let me die?”

Your words manage to bring tears to the eyes of some of your teammates, you don’t care, all you can think about is the fact that someone, one of your teammates, had the fucking audacity to save you.

Leah’s the person to stand up, and take the same spot that Beth did last night, directly by your side, her hand resting on your own.

“Why didn’t I let you die? Why did I perform half an hour of chest compressions waiting for an ambulance whilst you bled out on your bathroom floor? Because you have a life that’s worth living, you have a gift for football, you are one of the brightest, happiest, smartest, best people I have ever met y/n, and this isn’t the end for you, it can’t be.”

You couldn’t meet Leah’s eyes, not with the knowledge that she had done this to you, she was the reason you were lying in a hospital bed instead of a coffin.

“You should have left me to die.”

Your words are broken, split in half by the knowledge that you were still fucking alive.

“You have a life worth living, kid, you’re only 21, there is so much more you have to give and I’ll be damned if this is it for you.”

You can’t meet any of your teammates' eyes, because it’s clear that they completely disagree with your actions, but there is still a part of you in your head telling you that everything would be better off if you were dead.

Your teammates wouldn’t have to pretend they care, they wouldn’t have too busy themselves with trying to save you from your impending death.

If you had any choice in it, you wouldn’t be this way.

If you could, you’d be happy and smiley, sweet, kind and soft. You’d be consistently happy, you would be the person smiling no matter what and someone easy to talk to, someone easy to love, someone that people wouldn’t let slip away.

You don’t have a choice though, this is who you are.

You are rough edges. You are a poorly labelled bottle of poison that people choke on as soon as they come into contact. You are a box of glass with a fragile sticker plastered all over and yet you still break, harming anyone who comes into contact.

When life gets hard, you quit.

There’s no way to explain why, everyone loves you until life is real and you need help, everyone is understanding until life isn’t pretty anymore.

You’ve never been loved through your lowest moments.

Never been loved when you can’t bring yourself to get out of bed, let alone shower.

Never been loved when the only thing that's playing in your head is how much you hate yourself.

Never been loved when the part of you that everyone loves suddenly dies.

Somedays, you are fairly certain that you are impossible to love. You don't know the kind of happiness love provides, you don’t know how to open up or trust, because no one ever loved you enough for that.

Other days, you remember that you are only 21, and maybe one day it won’t be this way.

You wish you were tender, you wished you were glowy and soft.

You wished you were Beth or Jen, always happy and ready to make anyone who was feeling down feel a little bit better.

“Why couldn’t you have just let me die?”

Your cheeks are practically drowning in tears, Leah reaches up to wipe them, you try to stop her but you instead moan in pain as the searing burn spreads backup your arms.

At the sound of your discomfort Leah is recoiling immediately, her hands falling down to your tightly wrapped arms and pressing them gently back down into the blankets.

“Hey, no, these need rest, you did some serious nerve damage, we won’t know the severity until you’ve got some strength back.”

Fuck.

“Nerve damage?”

Collateral damage had never crossed your mind, because you weren’t supposed to be alive right now, so why would collateral damage matter?

“Yeah, you could have severed or done some serious damage to your nerves, if they are cut then you’ll need a nerve replacement to regain the sensation.”

You blink a few times, staring up at the roof and willing the tears leaking down your face to fo away.

“I should have died.”

Leah, in all of her honesty, nods.

“Yeah, you should have. They had to pump your stomach to get rid of all the drugs you’d consumed, and you need 38 stitches and three pints of blood. You should be dead, but you aren’t and the fact that you aren’t is a fucking miracle.”

You wouldn’t call this a miracle, not from any point of view.

“When can I play again?”

You’re not sure if you’ll make it till that point, but it’s a question worth asking, there are big things coming up, on both a national and club level.

“Excuse me?”

Leah is shocked, and extremely taken aback by your question, so much so that she just stutters over her words.

Before she chokes on her words, Katie steps in.

“Kid, you almost died yesterday.”

You shrug, you figured it was a question worth asking, but Katie’s voice told you that to her it was a stupid question.

“A week? Two weeks? A month?”

You're grasping for something, trying to find the long straw in a pile of short ones.

“Kid, you tried to kill yourself, you almost succeeded, there are bigger things to focus on for you right now then getting on the pitch.”

A part of your brain disagrees so heavily.

“I have to go, they’ll take my passport and my licence and I’ll never be allowed to play again.”

All of the girls share knowing looks, but the general idea is that there is a general discomfort across the room.

“Ducky, look at me.”

It’s Katie’s strong Irish accent, the voice she uses when she’s captaining her national team that forces your eyes from the roof to meet her own.

“They can’t make you do anything, you need to be here right now. There is a treatment plan, you tried to kill yourself, you can’t just leave, it doesn’t work that way.”

Your brain is screaming inside of your skull, pounding against the bone and muscle.

“Jorge never let us take a break, he told us if we ever tried to leave that they would take all of our identification, and our licence to play, I have to play, I was born to play, it’s the only thing I have.”

Slowly, without the efforts of any of the girls, you are starting to unearth some of the serious problems you’ve been dealing with for the last little while, especially coming off of the world cup.

They’d all noticed the change, noticed how after your national teams win, how parts of you had changed.

They all had their assumptions, especially after what happened with Jenni Hermoso and after some conversations with some of their Spanish companions, but nobody could provide an explanation for what was happening behind closed doors.

It was no secret to any of your teammates that Jorge was your biggest critiquer, you and Mapi had tried sticking up to him at the beginning of his career with the Spanish team, and it had landed you both in deep water.

Mapi, had been intelligent enough to leave the toxic environment when it had become too much, when it had seriously begun to affect her mental health.

You however, were not as good at identifying your emotions, and taking care of them, you pushed yourself to the point of breakage, this was a perfect example of that.

“Ducky, Vilda is gone now, you don’t have to worry, I’ll call Alexia, she’ll understand and she’ll talk to them for you. You need a break sweetheart, you need to talk about why you're struggling, there are bigger things to focus on right now than your career.”

You couldn’t disagree more, you were in your prime, you didn’t have time to take a break.

You also didn’t have time to live, there was nothing that plagued your mind more than the idea of trying again, as soon as you could remove yourself from the conservatorship of your arsenal teammates.

“I need to leave, I want to be discharged.”

It’s an attempt at regaining some of your dignity, one that doesn’t last very long.

“You’re on a 72 hour psych hold, 24/7 supervision whilst you're recovering. Everyday you will see a psychologist and after the 72 hours they’ll deem if you are ready to leave, if they believe you can be trusted to leave then you’ll go home with Beth and Viv for the foreseeable future. For the first few weeks, you’ll be under complete supervision, you’ll see a therapist every few days and once you’ve made some serious progress we’ll look at getting you back into training.”

You forced yourself to take a deep breath, and a big gulp, trying to force down the lump that was prominent in your throat.

“You can’t do that, I don’t want to see a therapist, I don’t need to see a therapist.”

Most of the women in the room roll their eyes.

“Ducky, we’ve all been worried about you for weeks, but you refuse to talk to any of us, clearly something led to this and if you won’t talk to us about it you need to talk to a professional.”

You don’t want to admit that a part of you is secretly terrified of seeing a therapist, because what if they see right through you? What if all they see is all of your insecurities and imperfections, just as Jorge did?

“I can’t see a therapist, don’t wanna.”

Before Katie can speak, previously silent Viv stands up at her seat and joins the crowd around your bedside.

“I know it's scary, kid. I started seeing someone when I was around your age and struggling. It was so hard, it was terrifying. I didn’t want to admit I was struggling, and then one of my teammates caught me harming myself whilst having an anxiety attack. I had to go see one to play again, and it sucked to start with, but it helped me so much, we all just want the best for you, and you need help, there is nothing wrong with accepting that.”

The remaining women sitting in the room stand up, surrounding your bedside.

Beth, Leah, Katie, Caitlin, Lia, Kim, Steph, Viv, Jen, Laura and Lotte.

It’s a crowd, and the taller girls have to stand behind because they don’t all fit, and even if they aren’t directly hugging you, you are overwhelmed with the amount of love radiating off of them, it’s too much.

“No-no, I can’t do this, you guys can’t do this to me. There is nothing wrong with me, I’m fine, I’m fucking fine.”

It’s clear that none of them believe you, you expect them to step back, but they don’t.

“No you’re not liefje, people who seriously try to take their lives are not okay. You don’t have to be, we’re all here to support you, you just need to let us, let us be here for you, let us be a shoulder for you to cry on.”

Your breaths shudder, you can’t meet any of their eyes, it hurts you to know that they all think this of you.

“I didn’t mean to.”

It’s a lie that you push out, you're trying to find anything to argue about, anything to distract from what was actually happening.

“Ducky, it would be okay if you did. You’ve been struggling and it’s understandable. All we want from now on is for you to be honest with us, no judgement, just tell us what you are feeling.”

Beth’s voice is so soft, you almost want to give in, but Vilda is in your head, screaming at you for being weak and vulnerable after passing out on the pitch after playing with the flu, and your reminded once again that there isn’t space in the world for people like you to have feelings.

“I want you to fucking believe me when I tell you that I am fine and stop suffocating me.”

All of the women share looks above your head, and somehow, telepathically, majority of them sag off from the huddle, leaving you room.

You're left with the main group of girls who have been controlling the situation.

Viv, Beth, Leah, Kim and Katie.

“liefde, you clearly aren’t fine. Whatever it is, you can talk to us, we’re here for you, whatever you need.”

It shouldn’t cause you to break down, but the pain in your heart and the look in Viv’s eyes sends you barrelling over a very high cliff.

You're sobbing, and struggling to breathe, blood rushing to your ears and preventing you from feeling anything besides the deep depression that has been building up in you for years now.

It hits you like a double decker bus.

Before you can really start to panic though, someone is climbing onto the bed beside you, bringing you into their lap and arms and embracing you.

“It’s okay ducky, we’ve got you, you’re safe with us.”

The sweet nothings are murmured lowly into your ear, the genuinity continuing until the mixture of a mental breakdown and panic attack subside and you’re just a tired, pained mess.

“M’ sorry.”

Your words are hummed into the chest of whoever has climbed in beside you in the hospital bed.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, do you want to talk about it?”

The long answer is no, you don’t want to talk about any of it, but you can’t help the sense that a part of you might feel a little bit better if you let something off your chest.

“Talk about what?”

It’s a genuine question, because there is so much happening in your brain that you aren’t even sure where to start.

“Whatever you’d like.”

You think that’s a stupid statement, because for all Leah knows you could want to talk about the weather, and that doesn’t seem particularly helpful.

“Jorge?”

It seems like starting with the source of your problems probably saves yourself from a lot of beating astound the bush.

“If that’s what you want, ducky, we’re all just here to listen to you, no matter what it is.”

You peak your head out of Leah’s sweater, and you’re met with the supportive faces of the four other women sitting around your bedside.

“When I started for him I was 16. For a long while, the older girls shielded me from him, Mapi and Jenni especially. But my young innocence only lasted so long, when I was 19, he did some really fucked up things, that was when he changed. Mapi, Claudia, Patri and I were the ones who spoke out, and it was the right thing to do, but it put a target on our backs immediately, especially with Alexia out with her ACL injury and unable to support us all. He was so mean to us all, always criticising, never giving us breaks, running us till we were sick or injuring ourselves. He used to wake us up at 2am in the morning to go running because he said we were getting lazy. It was around then that they all signed the statement to withdraw, and I would have loved to do it with them, but I just couldn’t. It only got worse from there for me, especially during the world cup, I was having panic attacks everyday and he couldn’t have cared less. All he did was push me, to the point where Alexia had to mind me everyday because of how bad I was getting.”

You took a deep breath, you wouldn’t allow yourself to look at them, not right now, not until you were done.

“That was when I started to think about killing myself. It wasn’t because I don’t love my life and my friends, but, Jorge was devoting his life to making mine a living hell, and nobody wants that. He never had anything nice to say to me, always criticism, always negativity. Then we won, and none of it mattered, but then there was everything in the press, and I was being slaughtered for all of it because apparently I was enabling his abuse, and I can’t handle that, I can’t handle being told that I enabled abuse that I was dealt for years, maybe I should have told someone, but who? All of the physios, all the doctors, they all worked for him, nobody was going to turn on him. He created an environment where all of us girls were miserable and competing against each other for no reason.”

Leah stopped you with a bone crushing hug.

They’d all heard stories about the Spanish Women’s team, speculation, rumours, hearsay.

But hearing first hand experience from their teammate, somebody they loved, it killed them all on the insides, because how could someone treat their ducky like that? How could someone be so horrible?

“Thank you for trusting us to tell us that ducky. You didn’t deserve any of that, nobody does. From now on, we’re all here for you, you don’t have to hide it all, no more hiding, we’re here for you every step of the way.”

You try your hardest to believe Leah, but it’s a uphill battle, especially when your brain is conditioned to think she is lying.

Leah seemed to notice how spent you were, your body completely relaxed against her, your state near catatonic.

“Get some sleep ducky, we’ve got you, I promise we’ll do everything to make sure you never feel like this again.”

When Leah says it, you believe her, because there is one thing that your mind can’t betray you about, and that is that Leah, and all the other women surrounding you would do anything to protect you, and to make sure that you felt loved, to make up for the lack that you’d been experiencing for the last while.

[sleep-i-ness]

Maybe They're Born With It, Maybe It's Trauma

Summary: You make a new friend at rehab.

Content Warning: Drugs, rehab

TUA MASTERLIST | GENERAL MASTERLIST

“I hoped we wouldn’t be seeing you back here so soon.” The dour face of Dr Hartleben greeted you as you waltzed into the rehab centre, a grin splitting your face in two.

“How could I stay away? I simply adore the early morning yoga sessions and going around in a circle after lunch explaining why we’re all so fucked up.”

Dr Hartleben’s pursed lips and sour expression conveyed all she had to say on the matter as you turned sharply on the ball of your foot. She took large strides down the corridor, and you had to jog to catch up, your scruffy trainers squeaking on the shiny linoleum floor. This place was like a second home to you, having been in and out every few months for the past 7 or so years.

You’d tried to hold down a steady job, really, you had. But all you had to show for it was a place as a flautist in the local orchestra, which did not pay, and a spacious but surprisingly cheap apartment in the dodgy part of the city. That you’d bought with money from your past life, when everything had been fine and on track to at least a minimal amount of success. But all in all, you’d decided that there was no point in trying to regain some semblance of normalcy in your life when all you ever did was try to escape the ghosts from your past.

Dr Hartleben pushed open the dull aluminium door with your foot, a shaft of sunlight illuminating the room. Ah, home sweet home. The stale scent of iodoform and sweat wafted out and you breathed deeply. This was the one thing that never changed, no matter what.

“You know your way around, the top bunk on the far left is vacant. I expect to see you adding your name to the duty rosters and coming to group therapy this afternoon,” Dr Hartleben was itching to leave you in the confined patient dormitories, barely even standing on the faded doorstep of the room. “Your stuff will be brought to you as soon as it has all been checked.”

You scoffed. “I’m always a model patient, I’d never jeopardise my spot in this wonderful place by bringing shit in with me.”

“Then why are you back again? I’ll leave you to get settled and make your bed. Your sheets should be on the end of your bunk. The others are in the garden, one of the nurses will be round in 10 minutes to escort you.”

With that, the door swung closed, and you were left standing in the dank and poorly lit room. The frosted windows were too grimy to let much light in and the bulb in the lamp buzzed a faint yellow. At least this time you had a top bunk, which was clearly the superior spot.

That was the problem in having so many drug overdoses on your medical record; every so often you’d be sent back into rehab, with or without a court order to stay. You had forgotten the strict rules that had to be followed and the lack of freedom; you didn’t need a babysitter. At least in rehab you wouldn’t be quite so lonely, you had roommates to keep you company now. And everyone had their own demons to face, otherwise they wouldn’t be here. There was no room for judging.

The crisp sheets smelt of starched linen, over washed and firm to the touch. No more comfy bed sheets, you mourned. The mattress was lumpy and had a suspicious dark stain on the plastic that you straight up refused to touch, choosing to flip it over instead and hope that the other side was less grimy.

“Y/N?” A knock sounded at the door and a nurse popped his head round the door, clutching your overflowing crochet shoulder bag. It was a face you hadn’t seen before, and you quickly plastered on your friendliest grin.

“Hi, yep, that’s me. Is my stuff all okay for me to take?” All there was in the bag was a change of clothes, some toiletries and spare underwear. No point bringing anything too nice, someone was bound to nick it otherwise.

“Yeah, yeah.” The nurse returned your smile, holding out the bag for you to quickly grab and sling over the end of your bed. He was quite young, you would guess late 20s to early 30s. You pitied the poor guy, having to deal with them all the time. Well, he had chosen this.

“Dr Hartleben said that the other patients were all in the garden, can I join them?” You skipped over to the door, your colourfully patterned skirt swishing round your ankles. You hadn’t been quite sure that your outfit was particularly fitting for the centre; it had felt a bit too bohemian but seeing the drab and dreary walls reminded you that a pop of colour would do this place some good.

The garden was a bit of an overstatement really. It was more of a paved courtyard with weeds growing between the cracks in the slabs and a couple of small flowerbeds, one of which had been a vegetable garden the last time you had been here but now appeared to have been taken over by weeds. It was the space for the newest patients, who couldn’t be trusted to go into the slightly more expansive grounds yet. It was depressingly barren, and you eyed the patients morosely milling around with a grimace. How boring.

“What’s growing in the beds at the moment?” You turned to the nurse, whose name you hadn’t learnt yet, with a dazzling smile.

“I don’t think there’s anything particular being grown.”

You pursed your lips. How sad. Any life or nature in this place really was stifled and stamped out in the end.

--

You trudged into the group therapy room, eyes following your feet as they left scuff marks on the shiny floor. You slipped into a spare seat, barely making eye contact with anyone else. If you could get out of this without a single person trying to become your new bosom pal, you’d count it as a win.

“Hi, I’m Ella and today we have someone new joining us, so I’d like everyone to go round in the circle and introduce themselves by saying their name and why they’re here. Louisa, if you wouldn’t mind starting off for us.” The irritatingly cheery voice of the therapist was grating on your nerves, you hated these sessions with a passion. What was the need in sharing the same stories every week?

“I’m Louisa and I’m an alcoholic.”

“I’m Mark and I’m a heroin addict.”

“I’m Susanna and I’m a drug addict.”

“I’m Brent and I’m an alcoholic.”

The droning of voices soon became a wave of background noise that washed over you like a sea of calm, each introduction as monotonously boring as the next. The person to your left spoke and you yawned softly, daintily lifting a hand to cover your mouth. “I’m Y/N and I’m an addict.”

There was something so tiring about rehab. Between the withdrawals and the endless therapy and need to be in touch with emotions, it was draining both physically and mentally. You couldn’t wait to get out; you only had a couple more weeks to go.

“And, our newest member, would you like to introduce yourself?” You could practically hear the beaming grin in Ella’s voice, and you rolled your eyes. Bit much.

“I’m Klaus and I’d like to say I’m a tortured soul-” Your head snapped up to look curiously at the newbie. Heavily eyelinered brown eyes stared back at you, a mischievous twinkle shining in them. “But to stick with the same pattern as everyone else, I’m an addict.”

He lifted a ringed hand to wave to the circle, winking at you. And you felt yourself flush, ducking your head from his intense gaze.

Group therapy had never felt so long as today, not that you could recall anything discussed, not when your eyes kept straying towards Klaus. And boy, did he notice. Every time his eyes met yours, he held the eye contact, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, and you flushed redder and redder.

How unfair that someone this gorgeous was at rehab; how were you meant to even attempt to recover when he kept looking at you!

It wasn’t until the end of the session, as you all shuffled out, that he properly made his way over to you, a cheeky grin on his face. You glanced at him, turning your head back to the door with a small smile which you tried your hardest to fight back.

“Hello, Y/N,” he murmured, voice so low it felt like a conversation that was only for you. And you bit at the inside of your cheek to squash the blush crawling up inside you.

“Hiya,” you whispered, hoping you didn’t sound quite as excited as you felt.

“Come here often?”

You giggled, hating how much like a schoolgirl you sounded, and finally plucked up the courage to make eye contact with him. “Yes, unfortunately.”

“Court mandated as well?”

You nodded, picking at a stray thread on your skirt.

“Well, we’ve got each other now.”

And you chewed at your bottom lip, beaming grin splitting across your face as a heady rush of giddiness filled your chest. “Yeah, I guess we do.”

“Want to go see the garden with me?”

You nodded, a little too quickly and eagerly, and he just chuckled at you.

Maybe rehab wouldn’t be as bad this time around.

[shaisuki]

𝗕𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗪𝗘𝗘𝗧 𝗕𝗘𝗚𝗜𝗡𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦

ft. bully! gojo satoru and geto suguru

content warnings past mentions of being bullied, harassment, injuries, mentions of death, chapter's short.

notes were getting nearer. thank you for the comments and the reblogs and the notes. you're all the best.

taglist: @missakward123 @lupitalove @i00bear @socialanxietyvictim @tourmalxine @labelt-san @ghostlyworld @kashxyou @chiiiiiiiiiiifuuuuuuuu @cute-sucker @skii-high @boyimjustaloserforyourlove @jossayuuu @bubblesandsand1-0 @ply4vnce @witchymermaid12 @luna-v-roiya @mariyumemi @sinfullygay @higurumapet @kvk6433gkcigv @s-j320 @bts-skz @imcreepininyourheartbabe @hazzelle-kento @cashcadaver @n1vi @kiruupon @vebbiewuzhere @its-princessmara @ssetsuka @unicornqueen05 @idkwhattfimdoinghere2 @sunnytyun @tomriddles-wh0re @ya-mamaaaaa @wateriswhatiam @red-writes @saltyladyflower

SERIES MASTERLIST

synopsis you finally started what you want.

a brush with death's hands and it given you the life to start again or maybe it was the help of your two new friends. nanami and haibara gave you the chance to maybe enjoy life and be just gone with it. put all things behind since you consider it as your second life. if only it was that easy. never been it was easy for someone like you.

bright-eyed you entered the university dead eyes is when you leave it. must be hard that you have to endure all that humiliation for some godforsaken dreams your parents didn't achieve. first in the family they say. you hold no grudge for them. after all children are the extensions of the parents dreams and you were like any of it. you have to achieve it and then you endured. what would they say that their child who wasted their money for a selfish reason. was it still selfish that it was starting to kill you in that position and you wanted to protect yourself. if only you could disappear. you were granted of it. sort of. it only took you a trip to the hospital and almost meeting your creator.

you overdosed. that's what they said and how you could that happen. you never done it your entire life but who cares about it now. you were getting your freedom back. with a heavy heart you have to say goodbye in silence to your parents. apologize that you were never a good daughter to them and for wasting their efforts. in due time, you will pay back for all of that. you need to suffer first to get things your way and to get things on your way now, you needed to disappear.

getting to another university proves to be difficult not when you want to disappear to people like gojo and geto. first thing when they started to make your life hell is to get to know all the important people in your life. they made you remember that you were in no place to fight them. they hold everything dear to you in their palms and what powerless you could do? stand in shame and let do it their way to you. and you know that they will find you after your sudden disappearance.

when satoru and suguru started to show their interest to you and when things started to get extreme and the people that you asked to helped you started disappearing, you knew you have to slowly plan your escape from them but how could you that you were locked under their gaze. they even show how far things can escalate when one of those who believed you got beaten in front of you.

“this is what happens to people you asked for help, (y/n)-chan.” gojo whispers to you. holding your shoulders while you were forced to watch as suguru helplessly beat him. tears welling up in your eyes as he helplessly took every punch. harder than the last one and when suguru sees you with tears rolling down your eyes, he smiles as the man he beat up falls to the ground. face bloody and eyes swelled shut.

he holds both of your cheeks in bloodied hands. “i don't see the reason why they'll go out of their way to help you. what they would gain from you. certainly you have but you're not what pretty should look like. unattractive and stout. how would you match the girls here? you're only good when we fuck you.” suguru explains it to you like it was the reality you needed to wake up to. “try to reach out someone for help and they will get worst than this. understand, hmm?” he hums, smearing your round cheeks with blood. you look up to him. dried blood in his cheek and you nod. understanding that he can do it again and again if he'll have to. he's more of a brute than satoru when angered and you took his anger many times you can count and it always ended with you having to take classes off to recover.

they spun you around. slowly walking away from where your almost savior lays down. you craned your neck to look at him. he managed to open one of his eyes and looks at you and more tears poured from your eyes. mouthing him with i'm sorry, i really am. your lips trembling as remorse took you over. repeating the same words again and again and hoping that it would reach him. you should never asked for help. you should never put someone in danger. it's all your fault. it's all your fucking fault.

you blink the tears away, remembering the day how it ends up to someone who helps nor approach you in anyway.

“i appreciate it but you can't. please yuu, don't.” you tearily told him about your decision. haibara explains it to you what he can offer to help you with nanami by his side.

you thought about it but you won't be accepting any help but haibara shakes his head. “i promise, they won't find out. nanami and me are good at hiding secrets.” the brunette offered you a smile. “but why? you never have a reason to help me, nanami. haibara.” looking at the both of them. nanami kept silent. drinking his can of coffee from the vending machine. “you seem nice.” was haibara's reason to you and you cry harder. tears blurring your vision and haibara panics at your crying expression. “are you kidding me!? nice? nice won't cut it out for you offering me this! helping me!” you cry harder. “i can't do anything for now! a-and i don't have anything for me to offer to both of you!” you sob and haibara softens up. you were like his sister and even though he knows the consequences of what will happen if they were about to find, he does not care. they only recently find out about your situation but he wants to help in any capacity he can do and nanami must surely wants the same.

“we don't want anything from you but your trust, (y/n).” his voice is somewhat sincere and comforting and he was like a big brother from how he is acting towards you. “you can start a new life, away from them.” your tears stops to roll down on your cheeks. “we're your friends and this is what friends do.” haibara said to you and for the first time in your life, you could finally breath.

with nanami and haibara, they helped you transfer hospitals. sooner or later that gojo and geto where about to find where you are. they can't afford to see you cry and be hurt because of them. you were really grateful and somehow was ashamed of it, but nonetheless you wanted to be away, away from what their madness can do to you.

that was the start. nanami and haibara took care of your papers for your transfer to another university. one that they wouldn't suspect of you transferring. far away from a maddening crowd but enough to provide you a good education and a degree that you would find useful later in life.

there wasn't a day where you didn't cry. first when you said goodbye in secret to your parents. simply disappearing in their lives like you didn't exist. promising that you would come back when the time's right and when all dues are paid and the last is when you stand in front of the university's main entrance. a final tear for the memories you desperately wanted to forget and for them. there's only an end to where you tolerated them. it's your time to play now and what makes it right is you're now standing in front of the building as the new employee. a multinational corporation hailing at a time where japan started to be a first world country after the war. the company's name in sleek and in big bold letters glinting in the sunlight.

this would be the start of your life.

[bella-goths-wife]

Post sex conversation and assassinations on the side

Content: this is kind of just an introduction to the new au im creating basically

Warnings: mentions of sex, cigarettes, murder, drug overdose, terrible plot building, murder in exchange for money, drug use, alcohol use, gore

^first time making one of these so tell me if it’s trash

Butcher and Becca both let out a long sigh of relief as they enter an embrace and enjoy their post sex glow, laying together in the back of the truck that butcher had used to sneak out and meet her in.

He holds her lovingly as he gazed down at the woman he had thought to dead for so long, memorising the details of her face that had previously become blurry in his mind during her absence. Though, this lovers bliss he was temporarily experiencing was forever dulled by the knowledge that she’d have to return to her glorified cage and he would have to return to his hideout to avoid having her killed by homelander and his happy families delusions.

Butcher goes into his pocket and takes out his cigarettes before lighting one and taking a drag, becca looks at him with a disapproving gaze before taking it from his hand and puffing out the smoke in his face in an almost playful gesture. Butcher only smiles, falling into their old post sex routines already.

“I still can’t believe that you were here all this time” butcher says in a low, almost regretful tone “all by yourself”

“I wasn’t all alone” becca comments with an absent mind as she enjoys the heat of laying with her lover.

“Well yeah, you had the kid an’ all” butcher says with a slight scoff at the mention of homelanders spawn “but you can’t have much conversation with a bawling baby”

“No, there were more people than just Ryan and I” Becca explains calmly as she looks up at her lover

“There were?” Butcher says with a confused look “who?”

“Homelander has more than just Ryan” Becca explains “he had another kid”

“There’s more in there?” Butcher asks with a scoff as his head motions to the secluded neighbourhood that becca was being kept in

“Not anymore” Becca says with a shake of her head

“What happened?” Butcher asks with a slight bit of morbid curiosity

“I don’t know” Becca admits with a sigh “one day they were here, the next they’d gone and vought refused to explain”

“Who’s they?” Butcher asks curiously

“Never met the mom, she mostly stayed inside so I only saw her from her windows” Becca explains “but I met her kid, a sweet little girl who’d visit me most days”

“Homelanders kid being sweet?” Butcher asks with a scoff of disbelief

Becca elbows him in the side at the indirect insult to Ryan, butcher lets out a groan and shields himself from any future blows.

“Yes, she wasn’t like her dad, she didn’t even know who he was” becca says with a scoff “she was just a hyper little girl who wanted company, she was the only one I really talked too since Ryan was only a baby and her mother never left the house”

“How old was she?” Butcher asks curiously as he takes a drag from his cigarette

“She was eight when Ryan was born, she would have been around nineteen by now” Becca says as she does the math in her head

“Would’ve been?” Butcher picks up on the undertone of her words

“Last time I saw her she was thirteen, her and her mother just disappeared into thin air” becca says with a sigh “all their stuff gone and no trace of them ever existing”

“So you think vought killed them?” Butcher assumes with a scoff

“I don’t know, maybe?” Becca says with an unsure tone “I hope not”

“Why, she’s not your kid?” Butcher says with a confused expression “and she’s homelanders daughter”

“That doesn’t matter, she was just a kid” Becca states defensively before sighing “sometimes I just sit and wonder where she could be, if she’s safe and happy or if she’s buried somewhere here”

“Vought probably killed her” butcher states bluntly “that or they are milking her for whatever she had in a lab somewhere”

“Maybe” becca says with an unsure look “I just wonder where she is now”

———————————————————————-

“Your whiskey, sir” you offer the man with a smile as you place his drink on the coaster next to him

“Yeah, yeah” the man waves you off and takes a sip of his drink before turning back to his associates “Mike, you have to think about this, this is a big deal”

You keep your forced smile on as you return to your position next to the miniature bar set up in the hotels meeting room, holding your tongue and all the things you wanted to scream at this up his own ass executive.

“I’m hearing you joe, but it’s too much of a risk” the other executive states with a scoff

“But think of the money, we could profit if we just let homelander run off the script a bit” the man tries to reason

“And have him spout off a racist comment within the first five seconds of being on live TV? Yeah no thanks” the other executive shuts down the idea.

Their tedious conversation is interrupted suddenly by the loud blaring of the hotels fire alarm. They look at each other in shock briefly before spouting off complaints on the lack of professionalism.

The other executive tries to get up and unlock the door before quickly realising it’s locked from the inside.

“Give us your damn key” he demands with a scoff and an open palm, his irritation only growing as the hotels sprinkler system activates because of the fire alarm.

You simply shake your head and remain still as a statue next to the miniature bar. The executive practically growls as he begins charging towards you with an infuriated expression.

“Listen here, you little bitch” the executive yells out as he storms towards you “give me the fucking key, now-“

He’s interrupted by his own gurgling as his head slowly slips off of his shoulders and on to the floor and his body collapses. Your custom made metal bartending tray with razor sharp edges has embedded itself in the wall in the other side of the room on its journey through the executives throat.

The man lets out a scream as he looks at his friends now headless body before scrambling for the door and trying his hardest to yank it open.

“God, you people don’t know how to ask nicely for anything huh?” You say with a chuckle as you undo the bow tie and rolling up the sleeves of your bartending uniform, you scoff when you notice the man’s attempts to open the door “no point in doing that, even if you somehow managed to open it, you’d face two of my men who have been standing guard since we got in here”

The man stares at the door as he contemplates his options before he backs away from the door and arms himself with a cheese knife from the cheese board and stares at you. You almost chuckle at his sad attempts at self defence.

The man looks at you before arming himself with the knife and charging at you with the intent to kill you to escape.

You smirk as you make eye contact with the man while he’s charging at you, your pupils expanding to almost fill the entire eye.

The man stops suddenly and stands there in silence for a few tense seconds before dropping the knife and gripping his throat desperately, clawing at it like a feral cat.

Sweat accumulates on the man’s body as he feels it harder to breath and his body begins to fill with pains extending from his chest.

“They always go for the attack approach” you comment to yourself with a laugh as you go to the door to unlock it and let the other men enter

They give you a nod as they go to take the headless man’s body away, the man crawling desperately to them in a silent cry for help.

“They aren’t on your side, stupid” you say with a laugh as you crouch in front of him “they get the same payout as me, it’s unlikely they’ll give that up to help a fat slob like you”

The man claws at his chest before looking at the drink you handed him earlier. He then tries jamming his fat fingers down his throat

“What are you doing?” You ask confused before following his line of site and laughing “you think i poisoned you? Please, I’m not that sloppy”

You let out a laugh as you sit cross legged in front of the desperately dying man who looks at you with a mix of fear and confusion.

“Your overdosing” you say calmly as you grab his hair and lift up his head and look into his wild eyes “slowly and painfully”

The man lets out gurgled sounds of pain and confusion as he claws at your legs as if asking for mercy.

“Now we both know a good Christian man like yourself doesn’t do drugs, that’s the message you spread to the press anyway” you say with a smirk “so let me explain, I’m currently giving you the effects of cocaine which would usually be a pleasant experience but I’m making sure you get the effects of too much cocaine”

The men who had removed the body come back in and began to set the scene in the hotel meeting room, trashing things and laying out lines of coke on the table and around the room.

“I could have chosen a more pleasant drug to do this with, a less painful one” you explain with a chuckle “but you pissed off the wrong people and our client has asked that we do this as painfully and humiliating as possible”

You get up and you get a small bit of coke on your fingertips. You grip the man’s jaw until his mouth opens and you let out a huff of disgust as you put your fingers in his mouth and you spread the cocaine on his gums to leave physical residue for the post mortuary exam to uncover and the press to exploit and use.

“This isn’t gonna look good for you, a good Christian man found overdosed on coke” you say with a grin “what will the wife think?”

The man’s eyes well up with tears as he sobs out in pain. You laugh with a grin as you get up and use your heel to tip him on his back.

“Sugar” one of your friends call as he finishes dressing the room for the press pictures “we only have five minutes to leave before the supes get here, hurry up and finish it”

You sigh before giving a thumbs up to your two friends who were becoming increasingly more anxious as the time goes on, you think about making them experience the effects of a Xanax to get them to chill out but you decide against it with a shake of your head.

“Well then, guess our time has ended here” you say with a grin as you look down at the dying man “Edgar sends his regards, don’t piss off people with connections like he has if you want to stay alive next time”

You increase the dosage mentally as your eyes connect which pushes him over the edge and the life slowly drains from his eyes.

“Sugar” your friend yells again as you go over to where your tray had embedded itself in the wall “two minutes, hurry the fuck up”

“One sec” you say with a huff as you grab the tray and pull it free from the wall.

You pull the tray free with a groan before cleaning the blood from it. It shines as you hold it up to your face and you stare into your own eyes while you recite the chemical makeup for the cocaine and the dosage in your head, you watch as your pupils dilate to the large size again before feeling the familiar sensation of energisation fill your body pleasantly.

“Okay, ready” you say with a excited grin as you grab your friends hands and begin to run out the room “let’s get out of here”

You and your friends leave quickly and run free, leaving behind the slumped over dead body of the executive who had been making challenging decisions within vought.

You hoped Mr Edgar would be happy enough with your job to leave a hefty tip.

This is probably super stupid but I’ve had the idea for this kinda of power for ages and I just needed to write it down.

Let me know what you think :)

[kokoch4n3l]

DEAD GIRL'S BEACH࿐ྂ "just givin' the same care you gave me, bunny. so whatcha' crying 'bout?"

(KUROKAWA IZANA x f!oc x SANO MANJIRO)

summary: she is a newly graduated psychiatrist and unfortunately, very broke. she gets a job at Sunshine Grove Psychiatric Hospital and catches the attention of a very dangerous patient who likes to hold grudges, even against those who are oblivious of their actions...

pairings: izana x f!oc, chifuyu x f!oc(one-sided), mikey x f!oc

warnings: DARK CONTENT, violence, toxic behaviour, possessiveness, gang violence, criminal activities, drug and alcohol use, mentions of prostitution, non-con elements, non-con drugging, drugged sex, drug addiction, overdose, drug withdrawals, withdrawal symptoms, near-death experiences, extreme violence, past child neglect/abuse, betrayal, misogyny, murder, strangulation, inaccurate depictions of psychiatric hospitals and medical treatment/conditions, stockholm syndrome, emotional incest, polyamory, torture, age gap(9, 6, 5 years), masochism, sadism, voyeurism, hard kinks, piv, smut, psychological horror, power imbalance, torture, waterboarding, fear play, major and minor character deaths, UNHAPPY ENDING,(MORE TO BE ADDED)

total series word count:

moodboard | headcanons & character info

ONE — mr kurokawa

chapter summary: enter Kaneko Maya, a newly graduated psychiatrist with a shit load of student debt racked up and her scary but hot patient from 4th floor, Kurokawa Izana.

cw: unrequited love, inaccurate depictions of psychiatric hospitals, usage of drugs, mentions of gang violence, mentions of pedophiles, mentions of suicide, mentions of addiction, mentions of alcohol, f!oc with absolutely zero self-preservation skill

—

TWO — beachy dreams

chapter summary: Maya finds herself at Chifuyu's place with his rowdy friends before hitting the club and she's drawn into flirtatious exchanges with a mysterious club owner. Tensions arise when a revelation links Maya's work to her social circle. Izana gives her an intriguing invitation.

cw: mentions of body image, clubbing, alcohol use, intoxication, mentions/implications of forced prostitution, mentions of gang violence, inaccurate depictions of psychiatric hospitals, f!oc with zero self-preservation skills

—

THREE — iv bags and daffodils

chapter summary: Maya faces a moral dilemma, trying to pick between her livelihood and ethics all while under the watchful eye of the hospital director and her patient, Kurokawa Izana.

cw: inaccurate depictions of psychiatric hospitals, mentions of alcohol, mentions of depression, drug use, allusions to sex, abuse of authority, power imbalance, unethical use of drugs, mentions of alcohol, mentions of rape, mentions of murder

—

FOUR — drunk walk home

chapter summary: Amidst the emotional turmoil of guilt due to her job and Izana's treatment, Maya is left to grapple with the harsh reality of unreciprocated love after spending the night at Kazutora and Chifuyu's place.

cw: alcohol use, intoxication, insensitive comments, (badly written)sexual content, (kinda consensual)drunk sex, penis-in-vagina sex, implied multiple rounds, loss of virginity

—

FIVE — little bunny

chapter summary: with the apparent lack of staff at the hospital, Maya has no choice but to clock in despite her begging for a day off and goes through an unforgettable night. good thing she's wearing running shoes.

cw: minor character death, suicide ideation, self-loathing, mentions of vomiting, corruption, exploitation, death threats, murder, torture, blood, gore, non-con drugging, unethical use of drugs, use of weapons, noncon/rape(not mc), noncon touching, mentions/implications of forced prostitution, inaccurate depictions of psychiatric hospitals, f!oc with zero self preservation skills

—

SIX — the beach house

chapter summary: willing or unwillingly, Maya takes up Izana's invitation and he shows her just what he was feeling the past two months he was admitted into sunshine grove.

cw: DARK CONTENT 18+, abduction, murder, chase scene, noncon drugging, blood and gore, vomiting, physical abuse, slapping, death threats, waterboarding, torture, drowning, near-death experience, dehumanization, objectification, noncon touching, enabler!shion, psycho!izana, PTSD(post traumatic stress disorder), panic attacks, making out

—

SEVEN — the sano family

chapter summary: Maya learns the shocking truth and the tragic life of the Sano Family, all while Chifuyu and Naoto search for answers.

cw: MANGA/ANIME SPOILERS, bribery, noncon drugging, mentions of different torture methods, past waterboarding, vomiting, murder, mommy issues, implied child abuse/neglect, cheating, dehumanization, dubcon, noncon, coercion, choking, thigh riding, humiliation, making out

—

EIGHT — open water

chapter summary: After a phone call with Chifuyu, Mikey and Maya begin to drift closer like two boats caught in a storm and Izana watches with great interest, getting ready to crash down on both of them when the time is right.

cw: dark content 18+, corruption, bribery, implied/referenced prostitution, wet dreams, masturbation(m), jerking off, narcissist!manjiro, mention of past waterboarding, torture, noncon drugging, dehumanization, (slight)humiliation, hand kink, finger sucking, murder, dom/sub undertones, making out, soft dom!manjiro, praise kink, fingering(f receiving), overstimulation, biting, hickeys, multiple orgasms, cunnilingus, slightly unrealistic sex, smut, p in v sex, vaginal penetration, dacryphilia, creampie, unprotected sex, aftercare, brief mention of Korean + Japanese history, gang activity, mention of suicide

—

NINE — spider

chapter summary: with a drug deal gone awry, and multiple drug rings raided, Izana decides that he and Mikey need to blow off steam.

cw: dark content 18+, unreliable narrator!maya, stockholm syndrome mentions of suicide, depiction of corpses, blood and gore, character death, funerals, murder, mentions of drugs, police raid, use of weapons, corruption, bribery, mentions of suicide, implied memory loss, implied dissociation, torture, forced drugging, withdrawal symptoms, addiction, vomiting, power imbalance, dehumanization, humiliation, drugged sex, MAJOR dubcon, noncon(tagging this just in case), no prep, unprotected sex, p in v sex, extortion, hickeys, bondage, ruined orgasm, voyeurism, drug use/misuse, fingering, threesome(kinda), making out, unsafe sex, temperature play, waxplay, dacryphilia, sadomasochism, creampie, aftercare, first-degree burns

—

TEN — i don’t smoke

chapter summary: Kakucho forces Maya to face the reality of her situation and Izana reveals some not so nice things to her

cw: DARK CONTENT 18+, unreliable narrator!Maya, vomiting, drug use/misuse, withdrawal symptoms, possibly inaccurate depiction of at-home withdrawal care/survival, first-degree burns, depictions of injuries and burns, blood and gore, hickeys, bite marks, kissing, thoughts of self-harm, emotional manipulation, slight infantilization, betrayal, dehumanization, depiction of corpses, mention of suicide, MAJOR noncon(not detailed), noncon to dubcon, allusions to sex, unprotected sex, forced orgasm, coercion, implied creampie, memory loss, dissociation, past torture, past waterboarding

—

ELEVEN — what was i made for?

chapter summary: Izana gets carried away and Kakucho and Maya do damage control, bringing them right back to the start.

cw: dark content 18+, character death, depiction of corpses, corruption, slight religious themes, suicide mention, suicide attempt, suicide ideation, self-loathing, slight hanagaki takemichi slander, scarring, bite marks, implied relapse, drug use/misuse, mentioned drug addiction, withdrawal symptoms for unnamed drug, possibly unrealistic/inaccurate withdrawal care, possessive!izana, betrayal, mentions of past torture methods(noncon drugging, waterboarding, noncon, noncon waxplay, first degree burns), emotional manipulation, mental health issues, MAJOR dubcon, unprotected sex, no prep, piv, making out, nipple play, hair pulling(m), multiple orgasms, tummy bulge, creampie, implied cockwarming, implied dissociation, aftercare, possessive!manjiro, noncon, mirror sex, coercion, forced orgasms, hair pulling(f)

—

TWELVE — his dead girl’s beach

chapter summary: Mikey thinks about the past while Maya tries to remember what she missed. Izana helps Kisaki choose an engagement ring.

cw: dark content 18+, self-loathing, mental health issues, mentions of scars, mentions of burns, drug addictions, drug use/misuse, withdrawal mentions, mental breakdowns, emotional manipulation, stockholm syndrome, past noncon, infantilization, possessiveness, emotional incest, mommy issues, dehumanization, oral sex(f receiving), cunnilingus, fingering, implied multiple orgasms, slight hair pulling(m receiving), praise kink, dacryphilia, dom/sub undertones, overstimulation, aftercare, slight ooc!Kisaki, draken & og toman slander, mental health issues, depression, vomiting, toxic and unhealthy relationships, implied emotional abuse, past character death, past picture taking, implied voyeurism, scars, memory loss, kissing, smut, handjob, piv, no prep, dissociation, creampie, use of guns, blood and gore, depiction of corpses, major character death

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THIRTEEN — can’t catch me now

chapter summary: Mikey goes to the Philippines, leaving a trail of bodies behind him. Takemichi returns to the future. Maya keeps her promise to Izana.

cw: dark content 18+, manga and anime spoilers, multiple character deaths, murder, guns, use of weapons, stabbing, mentions of suicide, blood and gore, depiction of corpses, scars, torture, depiction of wounds, unhealthy attachments, toxic and unhealthy relationships, vomiting, suggestive themes, mental health issues, depression, dark impulses, emotional manipulation, blackmail, corruption, bribery, torture, allusions to sex, suggestive themes, dehumanization, toman + draken slander, slight grandpa sano slander, non-linear narrative in one part, slight emotion incest, funerals, grieving

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BONUS — sugar bunny

chapter summary: how Maya's first day on the job would have gone if she had been nosy or, Izana and his sugar baby bunny

cw: dark content 18+, inaccurate depictions of psychiatric hospitals and medical treatment/conditions, canon typical violence, gang activity, dehumanization, drug addiction(c*caine), drug addiction recovery, drug withdrawals, withdrawal symptoms, abuse of power, murder, non-graphic torture, blood and gore, panic attack, blackmail, alcohol, slight sugar baby-sugar daddy dynamic, suggestive themes, possessiveness, gold digger!oc, guns, vomiting, threats, very fast-paced, making out, kissing, implied smut, suggestive themes, slight bondage, implied virginity loss, collaring(?), open ending, not edited

notes: cross-posted on my wattpad. I DO NOT condone any of these behaviours or any crimes committed in this fic. This is purely for my own entertainment. Please read all the warnings before each chapter.

All medical terminology is inaccurate and inconsistent as I know nothing about psychiatric hospitals. However, this is a fanfiction so I will write the way that fits the plot the best.

Takes place during the Manila Future Timeline with bad Toman. This fic is simply my take on what happened during that timeline and it will include many canon aspects from the Tokyo Revengers manga/anime.

I CAN NOT write [y/n] fics to save my life so the oc has a name. If you do not like that, then do not read, simple as that.

Enjoy! Asks, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated. It gives me the motivation to continue writing.

this work belongs to me. do not copy or steal my work and do not use my work in any AI or chatgpt program. I also do not want any republishing or binding of my work

banners all done by myself

all dividers by @benkeibear

© kokoch4n3l — Please do not copy, translate, modify, or post my work to other platforms. ♡