#extremely questionable timing but I guess it was supposed to do with the fact that the helicopter was very old

[coolwyous]

┈─★ 𝘪 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴 .

         ⊹ ࣪ ˖ megan knows her confession came at a terrible, horrible time. megan knows she had a million chances before now to say something. megan knows it's probably selfish, could ruin the band, and is overall extremely unfair. but megan also knows she needs to set the record straight�� it was messy, and it was imperfect, sure, but megan loved you, that much she knows for certain.

            ˎˊ˗  ☀️  ⊹ ࣪ ˖  ୭˚.  ⠀ ᵎᵎ ⠀ 🗝️

   ➴ ➴ pairing: idol!megan skiendiel x f!reader.

          ➴ genre + wc: 7k, childhood friends, unrequited love, heavy pining, angst, megan is so down bad it hurts, also sorry manon for what u are about to go through, reader is oblivious, megan is lowkey a shit-head punk in this but idc i found it fun!!

   ➴ you might want to tune in...: misses - dominic fike. ♫

           ┈─★ a/n: i wanted some megan pining + megan angst so guess what i did <33

the fact that your friendship survived her time on dream academy is a miracle in and of itself. 

megan is sitting criss-crossed on your bed, trying to stack your squishmallows. squishmallows she herself has bought you, she herself insisted you keep, she herself would pretend to cry every time you even considered getting rid of them.

“can i post this?” she asks, holding up a photo on her phone you two had taken that morning at the beach. 

she had flown back home to hawaii for a few days, to spend time with her family before the katseye tour started, but insisted on spending as much of her vacation with you. 

“crop me out please,” you tell her, as if she doesn’t already know your rule. 

but megan is stubborn, and insists on trying anyways. 

“why can’t i tag you?” she groans, throwing herself back on the bed. 

“people would ask about me,” you remind her. 

when she had first gone on dream academy, you knew it was going to change everything for her. of course it would, after all, she’s megan— charming, hardworking, and so, so talented. it was a matter of time before the world discovered her, and you were well prepared, but that didn’t mean you necessarily wanted the same. while megan dreamed of reaching every corner of the world, you wanted to keep your head low, focus on getting through each day, making the most of the life you have in front of you instead of chasing anything too big or too flashy. 

it’s what made you two so good together— megan, the dreamer with her head in the clouds, and you, the earth beneath her feet. 

“so what?” she questions, brows furrowing. “we just don’t hang out any more? you’re my best friend.”

“meiyok, you do this every week,” you laugh, playfully rubbing her forehead to try and smooth out her eyebrows. “i have to hide, since you want to go off and blow up and shit.”

“not my fault i’m so talented,” megan grins.

“it is your fault that you attract attention so easily,” you tease. “miss future superstar.”

megan’s fingers hover over your photos: you laughing in the water, her on an electric scooter, the two of you chasing after seagulls on the beach. 

“are you sure?”

you nod. “i don’t want the world to know about me.”

“how are people supposed to know that i’m your friend?” she asks, and you see her lips curl up into a pout. 

“you know, and i know,” you give her a gentle caress of the arm to try and soothe her. “that’s who matters, right? us.”

“right.” megan nods, blinking. “us. right.”

she deletes the photos that have any trace of you, posting herself instead, deleting the way she tagged you for photo credits, simply captioning it the sunshine feels good. you thank her and go back to hunting through your closet for clothes you don’t wear any more to make room for the new. 

you don’t notice that megan spots an old hoodie she had gifted you in the “giveaway” pile. you don’t see her wince, her face tensing in realization. you don’t see her pick up the hoodie, bring it to her cheek to smell your familiar scent, and fold up politely, before tucking it into her tote bag. she figures if you were getting rid of it, you probably won’t notice. she’s right. you don’t.

—

touring takes off, and every day, you see megan’s follower count on instagram skyrocket further and further. you see her everywhere— on your tik tok, on your socials, you hear their songs on the radio, you even see megan’s face on posters out on buildings. people in your small town are beyond proud of her, posting about how they’ve known her since she was a kid or how she used to come buy shaved ice from their stand on the beach. but you never do, this is about megan, not about you, and you’re happy just knowing what you do about your best friend. your bond is nobody’s business but your own, and you intend to keep it that way.

she’s been insanely busy since the tour started, but when you get a facetime call one morning from your goofy meiyok, knowing they just touched down in hawaii for a performance, you pick up ASAP as to not leave her waiting.

(you already know what she’s going to ask.)

“will you come to our show?” she asks breathlessly, no greeting, no check in if you’re busy, no letting you know when and where. it’s how megan operates: messy, a little recklessly, but so full of good intentions, leading herself through the world heart-first and using her head later.

“wouldn’t miss it,” you smile. “already asked for tonight off from work.

“will you sit backstage?” she asks eagerly, and your stomach twists at the idea. you never wanted to get special treatment, to mooch off megan’s success in any way. you had already bought your own ticket, never wanting megan to feel like she had to give any kind of hand-out to you or like you were using her for the perks. this girl had been your best friend since childhood, and you knew she’d insist on being generous, but that was your job. to shut her down, to tell her no, and to keep living your normal life even when megan wanted to bring you into her lavish lifestyle. your job was to not get caught up in the glamor of it all, and make sure she still feels human at the end of the day.

“i don’t know, mei…” you say hesitantly. 

“let me upgrade you to VIP at least and i’ll find you after. or something.” her voice is eager, and even though the camera is moving around to the point it makes you dizzy, you can still see her pleading puppy dog eyes through the facetime screen. “please please please, y/n!”

“don’t crash out,” you laugh, figuring the compromise is fair enough. “i’ll be there.”

“see you tonight,” she beams, nearly glowing through the screen, and you wave before hanging up. 

the concert is every bit as fun as you anticipated it would be. megan, true to her word, gets your ticket upgraded to VIP, but you’re much more comfortable with seeming like another casual fan than sitting backstage. you can see her better like this anyways, more authentically herself. you think back to every dance competition you had come to cheer her on for, every audition you waited in the car with, even the way you had helped her pick a song for her dream academy audition. 

and now here she is, performing to a sold-out crowd in your hometown, her smile never leaving her face as she sings and effortlessly completes her choreography. she seems so, so happy doing this, and you love seeing her in her element. shining, exactly as you knew she was meant for.

the concert comes to an end, and she calls you nearly as soon as you see her step off stage. she has security guide you through towards the backstage area, as hidden as you can be, and you finally get a chance to meet the girls that you had seen in the background of your facetime calls. 

they had all tried to follow you on instagram after the final katseye lineup had been announced, and you figured megan had done more than her fair share of mentioning you during her dream academy time, but you had made it a point to not follow them back. sure, they were megan’s friends, but they were her coworkers first and foremost, and you knew that being on their following list as international popstars would make you an easy target for internet investigators. the last thing you wanted was any weird fan digging you up, so you kept to yourself.

but now, with them in the flesh, you figure you can warm up to them now that they’re real girls in front of your eyes and not just voices and photos behind a screen.

“y/n, we finally meet!” sophia laughs, reaching out to swoop you into a hug as if you guys already knew each other. she’s first to come out from the green room, followed one by one by the rest of them.

“i’m gonna be so honest,” daniela admits sheepishly, wiping down her face with a towel, “i thought you were made up.”

“no forreal, like imaginary friend status,” lara grins, and the four of you laugh. “or like an ai that meggy was always on the phone with.”

“what’s so funny?” megan asks, finally emerging from the room with yoonchae right behind her, furrowing her eyebrows as she reaches over to give you a crushing hug. 

“nothing,” you reassure her, hugging her back, not minding the sweat. “just teasing you.”

“oh, so the usual bullshit,” she groans, but the smile on her face tells you it’s all in good fun. yoonchae offers you a quick nod, and you all make small talk as the girls refuel with snacks and rehydrate.

you’re caught off guard when the dressing room door opens a final time, their final and missing member stepping out into the hallway with you guys. your eyes meet, and you instantly feel a tingle in your spine with the way her eyes light up.

“oh, who is you?” she says in a mock-surprised voice, causing the rest of the girls to crack up. you can tell manon is the influential one, the way she radiates confidence, and you’ve never been one to get starstruck, but maybe there’s a first for everything. 

the girls all scream and echo it, imitating her: “oh who is you?” over and over again, back and forth, cracking themselves up as it gets funnier and funnier each time they say it, all of them laughing.

well… all of them except for one.

“you know who this is,” megan rolls her eyes, and you’re thrown off by how your usually goofy best friend is for some reason not into the whole bit.

“well where are your manners, megan? introduce me,” manon tells her, crossing her arms over her chest nonchalantly, not letting megan’s disposition throw her off.

that’s the thing about megan that you’ve always known— megan has a big heart, but she’s ruled by her emotions, and whatever she’s feeling right now is written across her face. you want to investigate further, to ask her what her deal is, but before you can get a chance, megan is already complying. you sense that she’s not quite ready to go against manon, and rolls her eyes as she points between the two of you.

“manon, y/n,” she says, gritting her teeth. “y/n, manon.”

“same name on instagram? or…” manon’s eyes flicker up playfully at you as she pulls out her phone.

“y/n doesn’t want us following her on socials,” megan says quickly, her eyes wide, realizing what manon is suggesting.

“this one’s fine,” you grin, waving her off, feeling your cheeks warm up. manon smiles back at you and hands you her phone.

“oh, special treatment much?” lara boos playfully. “quit rizzing up the quiet ones, manon.”

you all laugh, and your cheeks hurt from how hard you’re smiling. manon won’t stop looking at you, smiling back.

what you don’t catch is megan’s forced smile. she’s smiling, but it doesn’t make it to her eyes.

—

the girls are all supposed to fly to LA later that night, but megan opts to stay in hawaii one day longer, getting a later flight so she can spend more time with her loved ones. you worry that she’ll be sleep deprived from the messed up schedule but she insists she’ll be fine, promising you there’s no need to worry. she stays at her parent’s house that night instead of a hotel, and she barely gets a chance to ask before you’re reassuring her that you’ll spend the night.

she tells you all about the grueling dance practices, the people she’s met on tour, the secret new album they’re working on recording in between tour dates. the two of you lay side by side in her bed, in the same room she’s had since you were first friends, and spend the whole night laughing at tik toks and reminiscing about the mess that was your group junior prom, ending in megan ripping her dress down her ass from dancing too wildly on the dance floor. 

you can hear her breathing even out as she quiets down, clearly drifting off after such a long night. but you have a pressing question, one that makes you a little nervous, and you realize asking megan now is better than waiting for a chance that might never come again. 

“hey,” you tap her on the nose, gently, with your finger. 

she grumbles and turns over in her sleep, her nose wrinkling but she doesn’t open her eyes. “you’re waking me up for what?”

“to ask you a question,” you tell her. 

“it can’t wait?” she asks, letting out a sigh. 

“it’s serious,” you finally admit, biting your lip. “i don’t want to lose you.”

she turns over instantly, her eyes wide as they look up at you. she seems panicked, and you worry that maybe this wasn’t a good idea in the first place. 

“maybe i should say something first,” megan mumbles quietly, and you feel your chest thud. 

“i mean, you can, if you want,” you offer. 

“no actually, you first,” she shakes her head, eyes screwing shut for a brief moment. you can feel her nervous breaths on the tip of your nose, the closeness between the two of you. she opens her eyes once more and nods, blinking. “okay, i’m ready.”

“i know i haven’t exactly wanted to be in the spotlight with you,” you start, your voice quiet. you know it’s unfair— all megan has ever been is kind, and patient, and understanding, and you realize maybe, that kind of patience was all you needed to take a leap like this.

“do you think i could have manon’s number?” you finally blurt, biting down on your bottom lip anxiously as the words leave your mouth. “might be easier than dm’s.”

megan looks at you, blinking back, as if in shock. her body is still for a few moments, but she quickly shakes her head, as if she’s waking back up. her brows furrow across her forehead, and you worry for a second that you’ve offended her by seeking out a way to get closer to her coworker after all you’ve said and done to avoid being involved with all this, but megan is megan, and you realize it was silly to worry. she’s always going to have your back.

“yeah,” she nods slowly, swallowing down. “yeah, um, i don’t think she’ll mind.”

you smile and press your foreheads together, grateful to whatever is out there that gave you the angel that is megan skiendiel. “what were you going to say earlier, mei?”

she closes her eyes as your foreheads touch, her breath gentle against your face. “uh… just if you’re busy tomorrow. if we could surf or something. i’ve missed you.”

“i can fit you in the schedule,” you grin, before feeling your eyelids getting heavy. you leave your head there, comforted by the sound of megan’s breaths so close to you, feeling your heart race still from your question. “my eyes are closing. good night, mei.”

you fall asleep, and don’t notice the way megan’s eyes flutter back open and linger on your lips for much, much longer than needed. 

—

a few weeks later, you have a break in your work schedule, and megan insists on flying you out to LA with her and the kats to spend some time together before their tour picks back up.

you and megan spend the day touring the city, hitting the beach, laughing your heads off. she brings you to a park, unpacking a tote bag to reveal the makings of a picnic as you two sit in the grass and admire the sunset. the watermelon is sticky against your chin, and she laughs taking photos of you against the california sky. 

“would you help me with something?” you ask, watching as she struggles to neatly cut a piece of cheese with her stupid little charcuterie knife, making a mess on the blanket. you laugh, and she grins up at you.

“anything,” she answers easily.

“manon finally asked me on a date,” you admit. the two of you had been texting non-stop since their show in hawaii, and even though she was in new york right now doing publicity for a makeup brand, she had offered to take you out as soon as she’s back in LA as long as you’re still there.

“no yeah, duh,” she blinks, as if she wasn’t expecting it. “of course.”

you grimace. megan hadn’t asked how things were going between the two of you, and you hadn’t made it a point to ask. megan had never been open about dating during your friendship, and you were always too picky to be serious about any crushes, so the two of you had never really gotten to the point of talking about your romantic interests. plus, with megan, your heart was full enough— some days, you wondered why people were so obsessed with the idea of a partner when you had such an incredible best friend to fill your days with.

“she gets back tomorrow. i need help picking an outfit,” you tell her, staring down at the charcuterie platter and fruits in front of you. “and maybe what to say.”

“just be you,” she says simply, looking down again at the cheese and crackers. she doesn’t eat them, just fidgets with them, as she’s always done, a busy body at heart.

“what does she like?” you ask, feeling your throat uncomfortably dry at the thought of your impending date.

megan shakes her head. “don’t worry about that. just be you.”

“i am worrying. i want her to like me,” you admit.

“she will,” megan reassures you, her voice quiet.

“i’m worried if things go poorly i’ll lose you,” you confess, tilting your head at her. “make things weird.”

“it won’t. i’ve got your back,” megan nods, reaching out to pat you gently on the shoulder.

“thanks,” you breathe.

she wrinkles her nose, and you can see she’s debating something inside herself, but within moments, she’s blurting out her question, no filter.

“how come you didn’t want to be seen with me but you’re down to go see manon?”

“it’s not like that,” you shake your head, realizing it may seem unfair in your best friend’s eyes. “it’s easier to hide one date than our whole ass friendship.”

“what if she falls in love with you?” megan presses on, her eyes wide and pleading. “what then?”

“well, that’s not my problem,” you laugh, wondering where this sudden stress is coming on from. “i’m just trying to get through that damn date.”

“you’re right, you’re right,” megan shakes her head. “sorry. you know how i get.”

you reach over to stroke her back reassuringly, before adding a quiet confession, your lips curling into an eager smile.

“i’m excited for the first time in a long time,” you admit. “she seems like a really good one.”

you don’t notice megan’s head fall ever so slightly. she never tells you about how long she had planned this picnic, making sure to choose all your favorite things, the blanket in your favorite color. 

—

a few weeks later, your uber is dropping you off at an unfamiliar door, as you try to knock as quietly as possible to not seem suspicious in this unfamiliar neighborhood.

the door swings open, and you see her— clearly having just woken up, hair a mess, but so, so familiar. you can’t stop yourself from smiling at the sight of her.

“y/n,” megan beams excitedly, her eyes going wide as she realizes you’re in front of her, in the flesh. “you’re here?”

“i flew in this morning,” you grin. “surprise.”

she grabs your bag and pulls you into the house, wrapping you up in a hug so tight, it knocks the wind out of your lungs. she’s smiling so brightly, her teeth on full display, it’s almost like you just told her she’s won the lottery. her words come out a million miles a minute, the girl rambling all on what seems like a single breath as she looks you over.

“how do you feel? are you jet lagged? what are you doing today? if you give me like 5 minutes, i can get ready super duper fast and we can hang out— do you want to go get a coffee?”

you can’t help but smile, even if you are absolutely exhausted from your red-eye. megan just has that cheering effect on people. “i was craving a coffee so bad, actually. where has a good drive-thru?”

“i was thinking i could show you this new place downtown—” megan starts, smiling sheepishly, but you’re both quickly interrupted by a third voice and the sound of steps coming from upstairs.

“no way, is that my woman?” manon beams, coming down the stairs. “you look so fine, what the hell.”

“flew in to surprise you,” you smile, your cheeks burning at the sight of her. 

“you shouldn’t have,” manon grins, reaching over to grab your hand and kiss you. you’ve always been shy about pda, but ever since becoming official last week, you haven’t minded squeezing it in any chance you get.

“coffee date with megan?” you offer, motioning to the tallest of the three of you.

but megan’s smile has turned into a tight line of her lips pressing together, looking down at the way manon has her arm wrapped around your waist. 

“nah, you guys go, i just remembered i have a thing,” megan waves you off, rubbing the back of her neck. “i’ll send you the spot. bring me back something?”

you open your mouth to ask something, but manon is faster.

“i need a driver,” manon grins sheepishly. “still getting that american license, remember?”

“y/n can drive my car. you’ll be careful, right?” she looks over at you, handing you her keys, something in her eyes that makes you want to ask.

but you don’t, instead smiling back at manon and putting the keys in your pocket. “of course, i’ll be careful.”

“see ya,” she waves you two off, watching as manon follows you out the door, the two of you covering your faces with sunglasses and masks.

you don’t see the way megan looks down at her hands. you never realize that you forget to bring her back a drink.

—

the girls only get more busy, and you only have so many hours in a day. manon calls you on routine, every morning before you go to work, but that means you have less time for megan’s calls. but she still makes it a point to send you postcards from every new city, sending you pictures over text even if you take forever to reply, reminding you that she’s there even if you guys aren’t talking as often as you had at one point.

but after a particularly grueling fight over the phone with manon, you find yourself seeking her out. you know they’re in korea right now, and manon was nearly falling asleep halfway through your fight, but your call only rings once before megan is picking up, her groggy voice soothing you instantly.

“y/n,” she breathes, quiet but excited. “it’s been forever.”

“hey mei,” you smile, but you realize your voice is shaky. “sorry, i know you might be sleeping.”

“what’s wrong?” she asks instantly. years together make it easy for her to read you, too easy.

“i just need you to tell me i’m being irrational,” you breathe, feeling mildly guilty that your first real conversation in weeks is for you to complain about her friend. but megan stays quiet, and listens, letting you rant about the fight you just had, getting it all off your chest. she listen, without judgement, without cutting you off, and you feel yourself instantly comforted. megan always manages to know exactly what to do.

you reach the end of your rant, and she’s quiet for a beat longer.

“are you okay?” she asks simply, no judgement, no anger. just concern.

“she’s just too calm sometimes,” you sigh. “like too relaxed.”

“manon’s probably an avoidant attachment,” megan offers, contemplatively. “maybe she thinks you guys are going to hurt each other so she’d rather not talk about the hard stuff.”

you bite your lip, staring up at your ceiling. “has she said anything about me?”

“manon’s super private,” megan sighs. “doesn’t even talk about you to me any more. not since you became official.”

“i know she is,” you mumble back. the thing you had appreciated so much about manon was slowly starting to become an issue in and of itself.

there’s another pause, and you can practically hear the gears turning in megan’s head.

“is she being good to you?” she asks, her voice gentle, tender even. “treating you well?”

“i know we have our ups and downs, but i’m really happy,” you reiterate.

“do you think we would have been happy?” she asks, quickly, as if she’s scared that the line will cut at any given moment. “if we stayed close.”

“maybe,” you smile, though it hurts. all your years, and you never pictured that you and megan could possibly grow apart. but time and distance will do that to you, you figure. “do you ever miss me?”

“maybe,” megan smiles, her voice lighter. “do you miss me?”

“a little,” you admit. being worlds apart with no time to spend together has taken its toll, but your joy in seeing her live out her dreams outweighs it all. “but it’s easier to be proud of you. i feel like i’m distracting you less.”

“no way!” megan nearly shouts, making you smile. “you were never a distraction. honestly i wish you’d live with us at this point.”

“you guys would get sick of me,” you laugh. 

“maybe everyone else would,” she teases. “‘cause you’re annoying or whatever. but i wouldn’t.”

“manon would be sooo tired of me,” you laugh again. megan laughs with you, and it’s enough to comfort you. you guys say goodnight, and you hang up soon after to get ready for a family dinner. 

you don’t hear megan’s chest tighten after you hang up, the way she lets out a quiet breath. you don’t see megan fall back into her hotel room bed, head thudding into the pillow, her chest aching, whispering quietly to herself in the silence of the night.

“i’d never get tired of you.”

—

another few months go by, and katseye is at the peak of their popularity after gnarly drops. people are eager for their new upcoming EP, and the girls are riding the wave, taking every opportunity to generate talk about their music.

you finally get around to watching their weverse live, partially because you love seeing your two favorite people interact, and partially because their busy schedule has made long phone calls impossible and you miss the sound of manon’s voice. 

you and megan have talked even less than before, but you won’t overthink it. you know she’s off living her best life, and the thought makes your heart warm. 

you watch the live from your seat in an airplane— hoping to surprise your girlfriend with a visit for the weekend while she’s back in LA.

manon sits in front of the camera, seated next to megan, with yoonchae floating somewhere behind them, just happy to be included.

“manon, spill love life tea?” yoonchae reads out loud, before smiling and shaking her head. “wrong person to ask, guys.”

“guess what i’m definitely not talking about?” manon laughs, rolling her eyes. 

“pussy,” megan teases under her breath, much to their surprise, and yoonchae throws her head back in laugher. you smile, grateful megan ended up in a group that lets her be her colorful, goofy self.

“me?” manon presses a hand to her own chest in disbelief, but it’s all playful between the trio. “watch it, ‘cause i can throw a math problem your way real quick, kid.”

megan grins and is next to read a comment. “drop some lore.”

manon shakes her head. “yoonchae?”

“i have nothing,” the maknae says plainly, before reading the next comment. “unnie line, rizz us up.” 

“no rizz tonight folks, freshly out,” manon jokes, before squinting into the camera in a goofy pose. you know someone is bound to make a tik tok edit out of the pose by the end of the night. 

“and i’m just a lovergirl, that’s my rizz,” megan shrugs, throwing her hands up. you laugh. this dork.

“someone said how can megan be a lovergirl if she’s never loved a girl, poser af,” yoonchae cracks up laughing, and manon follows suit. 

megan laughs along, but you notice her eyes squinting at something, almost as if she’s thinking. or rather, over-thinking.

she’s quiet for a few moments longer, the other two scrolling through the chat to hunt for more comments to interact with, but then megan pushes manon by the shoulder, getting her attention. she points to the camera, smiling, but there’s something extra in her eyes, a twinkle of determination. you wonder what the hell she’s possibly up to.

“tell them,” she says simply to manon, pointing again to the camera.

“tell them what?” manon asks, genuinely lost, looking between the younger girl and the camera where they’re livestreaming.

“i am a certified lovergirl,” megan reaffirms, nodding confidently, before dropping a bombshell on the live.

“tell them about how i helped you bag your chick.”

you feel the world pause. yoonchae freezes, manon’s eyes go wide, and your heart drops into your stomach. 

“megan,” manon says quickly, like a warning. 

your chest tightens. maybe they could have played it off, but your girlfriend’s impulse reaction is obvious enough to show that she’s unnerved by megan’s reveal, and they are definitely not doing a bit any more. you look at the comments, which are now blowing up a mile a minute. 

CHICK?!?!? manon has a gf? 😔❤️ MANON WLW CONFIRMED 🏳️‍🌈 did megan wingman for manon?? how did megan know manon’s gf wtfff 👀

“the all-rounder is just being silly, don’t listen to her dumb ass,” manon teases, but the warning glare she shoots the girl doesn’t go missed by you.

“no, tell them. that was my best friend, in the whole world,” megan doubles down. she’s still smiling, a self-satisfied grin, and you feel sick at the way she’s not letting up. “and now she’s your boo.”

manon simply stares at megan in disbelief. 

“what?” megan asks back, challengingly.

was? WAS? 🌝🌝 is there beef omfg so grateful to have a weverse subscription on this fine day 🧎🏻‍♀️

“next topic,” yoonchae smiles diplomatically, realizing the two are in a stand-off.

“anyways,” manon says quickly, but the damage is done. you know your girlfriend. you can see her jaw hardening.

and you know megan, unfortunately. the way she stares challengingly at manon, like a dare. they try to switch to a new topic, yoonchae’s most recent viral dance, but the damage is done. the comments are racing, and you can see the three mentally preparing for their managers to call them up, as you’re sure they will as soon as they catch wind of this. the chat is relentless.

manon looks pissed lmao pr training is chasing megan but megan is faster 😭 imma give reddit 12 hrs before we know who this QUEEN is that homie hopped 2/6 katseye members omg

you hear the pilot announce takeoff, and realize you’ll have to put your phone away. you swear under your breath and mentally prepare yourself for the flight, and everything that waits for you once you land.

you don’t see the screaming match that manon and megan get into immediately after the live. you miss the three phone calls that megan sends your way, and you don’t see the message that she sends, only to unsend an hour later, never to be read by your eyes:

sorry, y/n. i couldn’t keep lying. i think we should talk.

—

you land, and instead of seeing megan’s message, you see only her phone calls. manon has called you too, sending texts of screenshots of their furious PR team and their manager blowing up her phone. it’s late by the time you land in LA, and you know she’s probably asleep, so you send a quick text of reassurance to your girlfriend, and focus now on chewing out your best friend at the center of this mess.

what the fuck did you do

megan's reply comes back immediately. what is she doing up this late?

sorry sorry??? megan are you fucking joking sorry no not fucking sorry, be so fucking serious what was the point of that do you know the shitstorm you just stirred? just saw your location are you in LA? i was supposed to surprise manon but she may need a lot of support right now let me get you from the airport ? fine

she picks you up in her car and the two of you drive in silence, neither of you ready to confront the mess she’s put you in. you see your first instagram notification, a random katseye account requesting to follow you, and you suck in a deep breath as you realize the internet detectives are probably about to start digging you up.

you swear under your breath and put your instagram app on silent. megan hears you and exhales shakily.

“y/n,” she breathes, as if the world didn’t exist in turmoil around you.

“megan, what were you thinking?” you ask in disbelief, unable to even face her. what could her endgame possibly have been? what could she possibly have gotten out of that?

“i just think it’s stupid that she pretends you don’t exist,” she shrugs, slumping back into the driver’s seat.

“that’s our agreement,” you remind her, feeling your skin get increasingly hot the more frustrated you grow. “it’s better like that.”

“she doesn’t even act like she wants you sometimes.” megan shakes her head, eyes fixed on the road as she pulls in front of the katseye house. neither of you move to get out of the car, instead, you unbuckle your seatbelt and lean to push closer into megan’s bubble, trying to emphasize your frustration with her as it doesn’t seem to be getting through to her.

“megan, you have no idea what our relationship looks like from the inside,” you point out angrily.

you and megan, in all your years of friendship, had never had a single fight. a disagreement here and there, sure, but you always were in sync enough to land on the same page for most of your opinions. what was the point of ever bickering if one of you was always willing to compromise? it was the foundation of your friendship, being able to keep the peace, and part of what made you guys so close. having your first real fight feels like a punch to the gut, but you had a feeling it was inevitable. your paths are so different now. your first fight feels something like the beginning of the end.

“does she even love you?” megan presses on, her face tensing, her grip on the steering wheel tightening even though the car has been off for a few minutes at this point. “she’s always hiding you.”

“she does love me, and she hides me because i’m the one who fucking wants to be hidden,” you tell her, angry to be defending yourself against her at this point when she’s too stubborn to hear anything you’re saying.

you two are equally amped up at this point, both of you leaning over the center console to get in the other’s face. your voices are both raising, and you see the way megan’s neck vein tenses as she scowls at your words. your faces are only a foot or so apart, and you can feel the breath from each of her words, punctuating her frustration.

“i loved you, and i didn’t want to hide you,” she argues, but you shake your head and scoff.

“that’s different, and you know it is, megan.”

“not for me, it wasn’t.” megan says, her voice dropping, and it clicks for you. you realize what she means, your eyes meeting, something heavy in her gaze. you feel your chest tighten at the implication, but it’s too much to open that box right now.

“stop it, i don’t want to hear that,” you shake your head, feeling your face get even redder. you’re angry, you’re confused, and your heart is aching— why is she doing this to you, now of all times? “you’ve made a mess out of everything, megan. do you know how stressed out manon is?”

“no, i did love you,” she insists, if she didn’t hear anything else you just said. she leans in closer, and you pull back, nearly wincing. 

“megan,” you breathe in disbelief, feeling it all come over you like a nightmare. “not fucking funny.”

“i would have been proud to be yours,” megan musters up the courage to admit, her face hard but determined, her eyes watery, her voice shaking. “i’m sorry i wasn’t good enough.”

you feel the back of your throat burn, your mouth going dry. not once did you possibly dream of a day where megan would confess something like this, would ever cross this line with you. she had always just been megan, your best friend, always there, as she had been from the start. you never let yourself consider anything more. 

“megan,” you warn her, your voice low, clenching your jaw so tightly, your bones hurt. “what the hell am i supposed to do with that?”

“that’s not my problem,” megan echoes, her voice cold and harsh, and you realize she’s referring to her question all those months ago, on your picnic, when she had first expressed fear about manon falling in love with you and it ruining everything. not once in a million years did you think it could be megan that fell in love with you, and even less, not once did you ever think it could be megan to ruin your friendship.

“this is why we didn’t end up together,” you blurt, feeling your eyes prick with hot tears that you try desperately to fight back. your stomach is in knots and at this point, you’ll say anything to escape this discomfort— even if it means hurting megan in the process. “you’re immature, selfish, you don’t think. impulsive.”

“i loved you,” megan says back firmly, grimacing at your words, but steady in her resolve to get it out. she repeats it like she’s trying to scrape the last of it out of her lungs, like she’s coughing up water and trying to clear it out. 

“there’s no world where you and i end up together,” you bite back, “get that through your head.”

“there doesn’t have to be,” megan pushes back, her lip quivering. “but i’m not gonna let you lie about everything. i tried.”

“this was selfish,” you hiss, but your heart thuds at the sight of her. you try to keep your rage at the forefront to protect your own tender heart from the confusion of feelings swirling up in your chest. “that’s why we stopped being friends.”

“i loved you,” she repeats, even if it’s only to say it out loud, for the sky, for the moon to bear witness, sounding defeated and triumphant all at once. “and i’m sorry for ruining everything.”

“you did ruin everything,” you blink, realizing there’s no reality where you guys can recover from this. there’s no reality where manon forgives megan entirely, there’s no reality where you can just forget megan’s confession, there’s no reality where you can take back all the cruel things escaping from your lips.

megan’s eyes meet yours, and it’s as if she’s realizing it at the exact same time. things will never be the same.

“can i kiss you?” she blurts out, reaching out a hand towards your face.

“megan,” you say sharply in complete disbelief, swatting her hand away.

“you know why you and manon are even dating?” she snaps, without missing a beat, as if she were prepared for the rejection. “because the night before your first date, i stayed up all night telling manon every single thing you like, exactly how you are, exactly how you get, exactly what she should do.”

you stare at her in complete and utter shock. that first date had been one of your most cherished memories, and you felt like you were walking on clouds the whole time. dates afterwards had never quite compared to that first one, but you figured it was just how relationships go. you could have never considered the fact that someone had put that much effort into making sure it went that perfectly, intentionally, and it makes your throat burn to think that it was actually megan behind it all, not manon. not the girl you’re currently dating.

“no way,” you shake your head, your tears making your vision blurry. “she—”

“did everything right that night because i coached her every step of the way,” megan cuts you off, her voice low and sharp. “you only love her now, ‘cause i loved you first.”

your jaw drops in disbelief, but megan isn’t done. the words spill out of her.

“and maybe i’m a little angry, ‘cause you could have loved me,” she says, her voice shaky, but something in her seems lighter, like each time she says it, she can breathe easier. “but i loved you, y/n, and that was real, even if i’m grieving you now. i loved you, y/n.”

you’ve heard enough, more than enough. you grab your bag and hurriedly race out of the car. you’re not sure you can handle much more. “get out of my face, megan.”

and she lets you. you race to the door and pray manon is awake to let you in. megan drives off, disappearing into the night. you feel yourself hold in what’s left of your tears, bidding goodbye to the friendship that had once meant the world to you.

what you don’t see is the deep breath she lets out. the weight is finally off her shoulders.

[knxfesck]

the president of iran DIED??

[mgparker]

all too well

[tasm!peter parker x reader]

| word count: 4.5k

summary: staying away from you was easier for peter when you hated him.

warnings: angst, violence, cursing, weapons, injuries, unrealistic events but it's fanfic so idgaf, peter being a literal stalker, peter being extremely stupid, very sad feels, f!reader, implied that reader has medium-long hair, unedited!

notes: i wrote the first half of this like almost three years ago tbh and decided to finish it all in one go tonight. so it's a little bit of a mess. oh well. this was also supposed to be like 10k+ words, which is why there's more world/storybuilding than usual. oops.

You still remembered the moment Peter broke your heart as if it were yesterday.

It was the only time in your relationship that he’d ever made you feel the way you did that day, worthless and manipulated.

“I don’t love you anymore.” Peter had said. “I don’t think I ever did.”

A straight up fucking lie. At least the part about not loving you at all. You knew that was a lie— it had to be a lie. Otherwise, Peter fucking Parker was an amazing actor.

But that was two months ago, the healing process difficult and still ongoing. It was hard to move on from a relationship that had been built on nearly half a decade of friendship. Peter was one of your closest friends in middle and high school until he decided he suddenly didn’t want to talk to you anymore.

“Have you talked to Peter lately?”

The question immediately threw you off, ripping your attention away from your homework like a bandaid. “What? Why would I do that?”

Your friends Mary Jane Watson and Gwen Stacy sat in front of you, books of their own laid in front of their spots.

“I don’t know,” MJ shrugged, sharing a glance with Gwen. “I heard him talking about you the other day in Bio.”

“Talking about me?” You rose your eyebrows. “I thought he was still pretending I didn’t exist.”

“He is,” Gwen said assertively, giving MJ a side eye.

You nodded as if the news pleased you, and in an odd way, it did. It made it easier for you to just hate him. “Good.”

Gwen gave you a sympathetic look, one you didn’t catch because you’d already ducked your head into your book. Truth is, Gwen Stacy knew you like the back of her hand. Having known you since kindergarten, your friendship was stronger than most. Rivaled only by the friendship that you used to have with Peter. Keywords: used to.

“So you’re still going to the open mic fundraiser tonight, right?” MJ changed the subject. Her tone was enthusiastic, bursting with excitement.

Right. The open mic fundraiser being hosted by the Midtown’s theatre department. It was at a small coffee shop a few blocks from the school, one you’d visited a few times when you desperately needed caffeine to wake you up before a long day of classes.

“Yeah,” you sighed, tapping your pencil against your temple lightly. You kept your gaze on your book, knowing that MJ’s face was likely decorated with a smile. “I’ll go, MJ.”

“Thank you! Thank you!” She squealed, clapping her hands together and looking at Gwen expectantly.

“Oh— I can’t. I have decathlon practice.”

“Boo-hoo,” MJ pouted before gathering her things and skipping away from the table. “I’ll see you tonight!”

You gave her a wave, even as she was halfway across the library at that point. Mary Jane was an impressively speedy person.

You looked back at Gwen. “What’s her deal?”

“It’s hard for her to be in the middle I guess,” Gwen shrugged.

You didn’t mind that MJ was still friends with Peter. In fact, you hoped your messy breakup wouldn’t destroy your friend group but Gwen had adamantly stayed by your side, going as far as to stop talking to Peter.

You didn’t like it, feeling bad that Peter lost one of his best friends because of you but it wasn’t like you broke up with him. It was the other way around and he had made you feel really shitty in the process.

Being the loyal friend she was, Gwen chose you without a second thought.

“I want nothing to do with him,” you sighed. “I just want her to understand that.”

“I’m sure she will… eventually.”

“It’s been two months, Gwen.”

Gwen gave you another sympathetic look. “I know.”

Determined to finish the last of your assignment, you looked back down at your book. Your mind quickly strayed from schoolwork, inevitably thinking about the events of your breakup.

“Peter,” you were pleasantly surprised as you greeted him at your front door. “I didn’t know you were coming over today. I thought you had a—”

“—the photography meeting. Yeah it got cancelled.”

“Oh,” you frowned, his tone throwing you off immediately. The visit was unexpected but being around Peter was like a drug. You couldn’t get enough of him so you welcomed him in without a second thought. Except he stayed planted at your front doorstep, hands shoved in his pockets and a heavy look on his face.

You hated that look— it made your heart sink immediately. “What’s wrong?”

“Can we talk?” He asked, his eyes difficult to read. Something you’d never struggled with before.

“Of course.” You stepped outside, shutting the door behind you softly and following Peter to your outdoor loveseat.

“Uh— I don’t know how to say this,” Peter started, avoiding your gaze completely. His hands were shaking slightly and his posture was tense.

Your anxiety kept you rooted to the spot, concerned over his strange behavior. You were usually so open with each other so this was weird to say the least.

You kept silent, giving him the time he needed to formulate the words. His longer hair fell over his eyes, his head hanging in what looked like shame. “I can’t do this anymore.”

The words were mumbled, but you caught it.

“Um, okay… do what?” You asked hesitantly.

There wasn’t a lot of meanings behind that statement. You knew that well, but the notion seemed impossible. You and Peter worked so well together, heck you wouldn’t be surprised if your hearts danced to the same rhythm. You were so in tune with each other, the possibility that something wasn’t working out just seemed… unthinkable.

“I can’t be with you, Y/N.”

Heartbreak hit you like a fucking train. “What do you mean?” You cleared your throat.

“I’m breaking up with you,” Peter confirmed, refusing to meet your eye. His stony expression was cold, a look he had never directed toward you.

It took a minute but you finally found the words to respond. “I—I thought we were okay?”

Peter’s hard exterior almost broke apart just from seeing your expression. “We aren’t.”

“Why?” You shot back.

Peter shook his head at you incredulously. “We haven’t spoken in weeks. I thought that would’ve given you a hint.”

It indeed had been two weeks since you and Peter had had a solid conversation, at least outside of school discussions and occasional texts. You were just in denial about the whole thing, acting like everything was okay in front of your friends when clearly it was not. You thought if you ignored the distance, adamantly lied about its existence, that you would end up believing it.

“I’m just confused,” you put your head in your hands, rubbing your eyes as if the action would give you some clarity. “Did I do something?”

As far as you could remember, you had done absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing to piss him off. Nothing to irritate him. What changed?

“We need to stay away from each other,” he ignored your question.

“Peter,” you snapped. “Can you please just tell me what’s going on? Because last time, I checked we were in a communicative, loving relationship—”

“You’re wrong.”

“What?”

Rain had started falling gently, a calm background noise to the chaos that was unfolding.

“I don’t love you anymore,” Peter said emotionlessly. “I don’t think I ever did.”

Shocked, you repeated his words over and over again in your brain so that they could make a sliver of sense. But they didn’t. This was incredibly out of character for your best friend— was he playing a joke on you? A sick, cruel joke but a joke nonetheless?

In the time it took you to process his words, Peter had gotten up, fully intending on leaving you on your own doorstep but you finally jumped into action.

“No,” you fumed. “Peter Parker, you can’t say that and just walk away. What the fuck is your problem?”

“Right now, my problem is you,” Peter spun around, tone equally aggressive. “The fact that you can’t just accept I don’t want you anymore. The fact that you’re making this harder than it has to be and the fact that you won’t just let me leave. It’s ridiculous.”

You hated how pathetic he was making you feel right now. But Peter was, above all else, your closest friend. There wasn’t anyone that completed your soul quite like he did. “So this just comes out of the blue? You realize that you never loved me and you suddenly want to destroy a friendship we’ve had for six years?”

“Sounds right,” Peter agreed.

Enraged, your jaw dropped. “Then I’m—I’m not stopping you.” Your anger blinded you to reason.

Peter stood under the pouring rain, water soaking his clothes as he stared back at you. It was tense, the air reeked of betrayal and fury. Agony was the only word you could find to describe the hole this was ripping in your heart.

It didn’t make any fucking sense. I mean— you’d talked to Aunt May a few days ago, funnily enough considering your own boyfriend was ignoring you and also happened to be conveniently out whenever you passed by the Parker residence. But May seemed fine, giving you her usual bright smile and enthusiastically asking about school and your family. Nothing to alert you that Peter was going through any trouble.

And you’d tried to get a direct answer from him for the past fourteen days, sending him texts whenever you failed at getting anything substantial from your conversations in class. But your calls were sent to voicemail and your texts left delivered.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You could only flare your nostrils in fury, tightening your grip on the doorknob behind you as you stared at Peter’s retreating figure.

A slight movement from Gwen snapped you out of the memory, a distraction you welcomed gladly.

The room was getting a bit too stuffy, despite the vast space between each table. “I’m gonna go,” you swiftly packed up your things, ignoring Gwen’s look of concern. “Your dad is still picking you up right?”

“Yeah…” Gwen said. “Are you okay?"

"Fine," you said stiffly, checking the time on your phone. You had just enough time to catch the train home, get ready, and then get back here in time for the fundraiser. You almost sighed at the thought. You didn't want to go-- not in the slightest.

The streets were as busy as usual, but you made your way to the station on time. You stood with your back pressed against the wall as you always did, your eyes scanning the crowd subtly. The entire time you stood on the train you felt the heavy weight of someone’s gaze, but kept your eyes planted forward. It was the New Yorker in you.

You hastily made your way home and made your way upstairs, ignoring the bitter silence throughout the brownstone. Your father had left a while ago, something about a business trip. It wasn’t unusual for you to be left alone, the last few months had proven to be full of unexpected changes. What had once been a semi-lively home, was now empty save for the occasional visit from someone your father hired to tidy up the house once a week. 

After a long debate in front of the mirror, you opted for a tank top and jeans with a leather jacket thrown on top. You figured you should put your best foot forward for MJ’s event. You couldn’t mope forever. 

The trip back to Midtown was fine, uneventful, and you made it just in time. What you had expected would be an evening full of disassociating ended up leaving you feeling lighter than you had in months. Thankfully, MJ had dropped the Peter subject completely and instead focused on getting everyone to hit the stage. 

Hence your stellar duet rendition of ‘Start of Something New’ which brought the fucking house down in your honest opinion (there was more giggling than singing).

“Thank you, thank you, thank you for coming!” MJ squealed as you finally made your exit, squeezing you in her surprisingly strong grip. You smiled into the hug, glad that you came.

Finally.

Finally, you’d had one night that hadn’t been tainted by the hole your ex-boyfriend had left in your chest.

MJ gave you one more serious look, grasping your arms. “Are you sure you’ll be fine getting back—?”

“Yes,” you repeated with a teasing eye roll. “I’ll be fine. Dad sent a car.”

You’d gotten good at lying over these past few months too.

MJ accepted it with a smile and bounded off toward the stage again where the rest of the attendees were chatting and laughing. You lingered for a moment, eyeing the community between them. 

With a sigh, you spun around and left the coffee shop, the air instantly clouding around your breaths. It was cold and oddly quiet, the streets more empty than usual. 

Especially with the absence of the car you’d claimed would be waiting for you. 

You shook your head as you began your walk back home. The train made it faster to get there, but you weren’t keen on lingering in subway stations alone at night.

Besides, the walk gave you time to silently seethe over the lie you’d just told MJ. Your dad couldn’t give less shits about you. Apparently, his business trips were much more important. 

The topic of irresponsible workaholics made your thoughts stray to your friend Harry Osborn for a moment. You should text him, invite him over to bond over their shitty parents who think throwing money in their children’s faces made up for their poor parenting.

The route home was so familiar that you were walking on auto-pilot, your mind more distracted than usual.

A bright sign caught your eye.

Joe’s Pizza.

You scowled at the reminder of Peter, almost seeing the ghost of him standing just outside his favorite spot all smiles and laughter.

In a foolish effort to keep him as far away from your mind as possible, you pivoted down the nearest road to avoid passing by. He clearly wasn’t there (only a few tourists stood by waiting for their orders), but your annoying heart still clenched at the slightest reminder of him.

The road was darker and seemingly colder, but you hustled on, dragging your jacket closer to your body. Your gaze was sharper now and you scanned every dark corner and shadow. 

Suddenly, a movement made your feet hesitate. Instinctively, you nearly stopped in the middle of the road, but instead you continued at a slower pace, trying to figure out what you’d seen. 

You couldn’t see anyone and whatever shadow you’d seen had disappeared, but your heart still raced slightly. Suddenly, you were regretting this detour.

Your path strayed closer to the middle of the road to avoid feeling cornered and you quickened your pace, seeing the corner you intended to turn, your chest beginning to feel lighter from the familiarity of the intersection—

“Move and I’ll blow your fucking brains out.”

Your heart froze as cold metal pressed against the crown of your head, tangling in your locks. Your feet skidded to a stop.

A million thoughts ran through your brain, but fear paralyzed you, your lungs frozen in mid-inhale. Your gut had been screaming at you, trying to fight its way over the reckless noise in your head—

“Good, that’s good. Now turn around,” the deep voice demanded and your panicked body hesitated to move. The gun dug deeper into your scalp. “Slowly.”

It felt like you were out of your own body, doing as he asked and turning to see a face obscured by a shitty ski mask. Was he planning on robbing you? You catalogued the items on you quickly, trying to remember if you were carrying enough cash to placate the guy.

Before you could make your plea, a calloused hand came up to your chin and grasped it roughly. A shocked gasp escaped your lips and you tried to hide your terror as the man dug his fingers in your skin. He tilted your face back and forth as if inspecting it.

Your mind was spiraling to the worst case scenario and you were trying to figure out whether you should speak— or if you even could. You always froze in a panic.

An amused chuckle slipped through the guy’s nose and he squeezed your chin mercilessly. Tears sprung to your eyes.

“Really easy to catch you, girl. You’d think our little superhero would be watching over his precious plaything better.”

You realized with a sickening lurch that this had nothing to do with a random robbery and all to do with your best friend— well, ex—

“You’re gonna tell me who’s behind the mask,” he traced the gun from the back of your head all the way to your left temple and dug it into the skin enough that you winced. “And then you’re gonna come with me, nice and easy.”

Your resolve suddenly steeled.

Because as much as you thought you now hated Peter Parker, he would always be the love of your life. Your best friend.

You’d rather die than reveal his secret.

“So tell me, who’s behind the mask, girl?” The man snarled. His nails bit into your skin.

Finally, you found enough courage to speak. It felt loud in this deserted alleyway. “You found me yet you don’t know who’s behind the mask—“

Your slightly mocking tone earned you an unforgiving whack across the temple, courtesy of the hard-as-fuck gun in his hand. Your vision blurred for a moment and you would’ve stumbled if his grip hadn’t tightened on your chin.

Despite your stupid bait, you did find yourself pondering your own words carefully. If they found you (whoever they were), they’d have to been tracking you for some time. How had they made the connection between you and Spider-Man without making the connection between you and Peter Parker?

Well, you and Peter hadn’t been spotted together in months so—

“Got a fucking smart mouth, huh?” He snarled. “You’re gonna tell me who Spider-Man is. Either way, you’re coming with me and he’ll reveal himself soon enough. The boss is eager to meet him.”

The boss?

“You’re wasting your time. He’s not gonna come,” you said between gritted teeth, anger and fear mixing in the pit of your stomach as the gravity of the situation gripped you. 

He’s not gonna come. Peter Parker left you behind long ago. You’re going to die.

“Last chance, tell me.” His threat came with a menacing grip around your throat and you almost fought back before remembering the very serious threat of a bullet in your head.

His tactic was obviously meant to scare you into submission and you tried to relax in his hold with this in mind, but his fingers kept tightening and your airways were closing and —

Your hands instinctively came up to claw at his, throat burning and your vision blurring—

A quick movement caught your eye and you barely registered the gun flying away at least 50 feet in the air before the man’s other hand was gripped by a glob of web you barely saw as your eyes rolled back before his grip was ripped away forcefully and his body went flying away from you.

The loss of his grip sent you crashing down, weakened by the lack of oxygen and damn near completely unconscious. Black dots clouded your vision and just before your head could hit the cold cement, gentle but frantic hands enveloped you firmly. 

Your name was uttered frantically, the hands clutching you into a warm solid chest and you slowly tried to blink the dots out of your vision. Disoriented and barely hanging on to consciousness, you tried to resurface.

“—Y/N? Baby, baby, look at me. Let me see those pretty eyes, come on—“

The voice sent a chill down your spine and your vision was clearing up slightly, your mouth moving before your mind could catch up. 

“Peter?” You whispered doubtfully, head throbbing from the ruthless hit that guy had landed on you. 

The vivid red and blue colors of his suit were dancing in your vision and your dazed eyes focused on his face as one of his hands came up to rip the mask off his head.

The sight flooded your chest with relief, heartbreak, and joy all at once. You felt the familiar euphoria you always did whenever you locked eyes with him.

All that love— everything you thought you’d banished away— turns out it was only tucked deep down and it resurfaced in a violent tidal wave of emotion. 

But for now, in your disoriented and likely concussed state, all you could manage was a slight upturn on your lips. 

A shaky chuckle left his lips, cradling you in his arms as his knees dug into the pavement below. “Hey, baby…” one of his hands came up to cradle your face, his watery eyes scanning your body with such desperation that it concerned you.

All at once, the present slammed into you and the confusion hit.

“W-what? How? Where—?” The questions spilled out of you, barely strung together or making sense.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—“ Peter was saying, running his thumbs lightly over your chin where it still stung and up to your throbbing temple that felt strangely wet. His touch was everywhere all at once and not helping with the aching confusion.

“The guy— he was— they’re after you—“ 

You tried to sit up to look for him— suddenly terrified that he would be pointing the gun at Peter or you— despite the lack of strength and Peter’s firm grip keeping you locked in place. 

“Hey, I took care of him. He’s down. He’s down, I promise,” Peter was reassuring quietly as he soothed your hair back, words tumbling from his lips in a nervous ramble. His hands were shaking and his face was wet, hair in complete disarray.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry—“ his hands suddenly gripped you a little tighter when your eyes slipped shut for a moment too long. You felt exhausted, the adrenaline seeping out of you and leaving you in the aftermath of a strangled throat and a painful concussion. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. You were supposed to stay safe. Staying away meant you’d be safe.”

His words were barely audible, a devastating mumble of self-loathing and blame, tumbling out one after the other. 

“What are you talking about?” You forced out, your voice raw and barely above a whisper.

Peter’s eyes suddenly locked with yours, filled with agony as if seeing you in pain caused him pain too. Before you could make sense of it all, Peter sprung to his feet and cradled you in one arm before a rush of air forced your eyes shut. You barely felt the journey home, floating between a state of consciousness and unconsciousness until those arms rested you on the familiar surface of your bed and your eyes slowly opened to find Peter hovering above you.

His hands cradled the back of your neck, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours, breathing in shakily as his eyes slipped shut and a single tear made a path down his cheek.

Despite the amount of shitty you currently felt, the overwhelming need to make sure he was always okay took over. Your hand went up to wipe his tear away, coaxing his eyes open as you traced his jaw softly. 

“Hey, I’m okay. You’re okay. We’re both okay, Peter,” you whispered. 

“I need to take you to a hospital,” he said as his eyes traced the bump on your temple and the traces of blood that remained. It was physically painful for him to gaze upon your bruised throat, littered in hues of purple and pink. 

It was all his fault and the guilt stabbed him in the stomach repeatedly. He should’ve been the one with those bruises. His blood should’ve been spilled, not yours. Never yours.

“I’m okay,” you insisted weakly, tracing your eyes all over his worried face. All that “hatred” you’d felt before you had melted away into nothingness. Because nothing felt as right or complete as it did when you were with him.

“No, I’m taking you to the hospital now,” he said insistently, slipping out of the suit and reaching into your drawer to take his own clothes out and change. If you weren’t so rattled from the night’s events, you would’ve blushed at the fact that he somehow knew his clothes were still untouched from the months you’d spent apart.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to argue against it anymore, and after a brief hospital visit and some scans later, you’d felt lucid enough to have a conversation with your ex. 

And after he’d explained the threats Spider-Man had been receiving months ago, he also explained his desperate attempt to keep you safe by ensuring he no longer had any part in your life.

He’d lied. He’d said horrible things to get you to let go of him. Things that pained him so badly he barely felt like a person in the months after he’d broken up with you.

To know you’d both been in misery… to know that his words, his cruel cruel words, were lies fabricated to keep you safe…

It infuriated you and weakened you all at once. And because you understood his love and deeply loved him just as much, you found it in yourself to forgive him.

Only after some groveling on his part. And heavy scolding on yours.

“If you ever try to gaslight me again, evil villains threatening us or not, I swear I’ll break up with you for real, Parker,” you threatened very seriously one lazy afternoon, your thighs slung on either side of his hips. 

His bright brown eyes stared up at you as if he held his entire world within his arms. “You got it, ma’am,” he breathed, leaning up to capture your lips with his.

Your hands gripped his shoulders and traveled to the back of his neck, tangling with his chestnut curls. He kissed you like you were the air he needed in his lungs, as if you’d disappear from his grasp if he ever let you go.

Your teeth captured his bottom lip lightly as you pulled away, his eyes darker as they slowly opened to look into yours. And he gave you one small moment before flipping you over so that your back hit the couch and he hovered over you suddenly. The movement so quick that you couldn’t stop the giggle from escaping your lips, muffled by his own smiling mouth as he came down to meet you over and over again.

[loveroffemmes]

you and Shauna are “studying,” but she keeps looking at your lips. u tease her, asking if she even knows what page you’re on. she says something sarcastic but then pushes your textbook aside and straddles your lap. “wanna quiz me on something else?”

Midterm Makeout | Shauna Shipman x Fem! Reader

warnings: smut, thigh-riding, fingering

summary: shauna and you sit on your bed together, studying for midterms when you notice that shauna's been staring at you the entire time. shauna decides to study your body instead.

Shauna and I had been sitting on my bed for the past hour, flipping through our history textbooks and desperately trying to retain any of the information I was reading. I looked up from my textbook to try and see if Shauna was having better luck than I was. When I look up at Shauna, all I see are her eyes locked onto my lips.

“Shauna?” I call out.

Shauna’s eyes never leave my lips, “Yeah?”

“Do you even know what page you’re supposed to be on?”

“Ninety…eight…teen….?” Shauna says, guessing random numbers.

“Yes, we’re on page ninety eighteen” I giggle.

“You’re judging me, but I bet you can’t even tell me what this chapter is about.” Shauna smugly replies, setting her textbook down next to her on the bed.

I opened my mouth to ramble off random facts about the chapter, but Shauna was right, I hadn’t really retained any information, “Hey! At least I’m trying, unlike a certain slacker.” I joke, “I bet if I quizzed you on anything in this book you wouldn’t be able to get a single question right.” Shauna shifted slightly, reaching her hand out and pushing the textbook out of my lap. She then moved on top of me, her knees on either side of my thighs, “W-What’re you doing, Shauna?”

Shauna licked her lips, her eyes moving back to mine, “Why don’t you quiz me on something else, (Y/n)?” One of her hands moved to my shoulder, the other to the back of my head. She pushed my head forward as she leaned in, her lips meeting mine in a gentle, but rushed kiss. There was no warning to it, just heat. The kiss was gentle, as if she was testing how far she could go, but it was rushed as if she could not restrain herself, as if she was watching me for the past hour fantasizing about this kiss. Shauna pulled away, her eyes meeting mine, her voice coming out more vulnerable than she wanted, “I want you, (Y/n).” Her lips met mine again before I could answer, I think Shauna was scared I wouldn’t be as eager as her or that I wouldn’t really want her at all (both extremely untrue). The kiss was hungrier this time like if she didn’t kiss me right now she would pass away from the overwhelming feeling of want. The kiss wasn’t perfect, Shauna’s eagerness got the best of her and our noses bumped, our teeth hit, and yet she didn’t stop. She was desperate to feel my lips on hers, her hunger and need felt almost animalistic.

Shauna’s hands roamed; my hips, my waist, my back — anywhere that she could comfortably put her hands, she did. None of her touches were light; her nails scratched at my skin, her hands cupped anything they could. It seemed like Shauna had lost control once her lips touched mine. Her lips followed suit, beginning to roam anywhere they possibly could. First, my jaw, then my neck. Her teeth sank into my skin as she licked my neck, making sure to leave a mark behind. Her hands moved to the hem of my shirt, tugging at it slight, “Off?” Shauna mumbled against my neck before going back to leaving marks on it, her limited wording being from her not wanting her lips to leave my skin for more than a few seconds.

“You can take it off, Shauna.” I reply, I feel Shauna’s lips form into a smirk against my skin. She pulls away from me, still stranding me as she takes my shirt off. She doesn’t go immediately back to marking like I thought she would, instead she studies my chest (the most focused she’s been this entire study session).

“You’re..” Shauna swallows, clearly embarrassed by just how much she wants this, “gorgeous.” Her hands move to the clasp of my bra, her hands shaking — not from nerves, but from anticipation. Her shaky hands unclip my bra, taking it off. Her lips part as she takes in the sight in front of her, “How have we not done this sooner?” She breathes, her eyes never leaving my chest (she’s currently trying to memorize every inch of me).

She leans back in my lap slightly, lifting her own shirt over her head and discarding it with wherever the textbooks went, long forgotten. She then took off her bra, and threw it somewhere on the floor of my bedroom, and it was my turn to gawk at her. Shauna’s lips return to mine, desperate. Her hands move to my chest with the same hungry urgency that her lips have.

Her hands cup my chest, squeezing it softly as her fingers run over my nipples. Her nails softly grazing over my nipples as they hardened all while her tongue worked it’s way into my mouth.

"I can't wait any longer." She mumbles against my lips, her touch getting rougher and rougher by the second. She pulls away, moving off my lap and quickly discarding the rest of her clothes before turning her attention back to me, "Lay down." She demands and I listen, "Lift your hips, love." She instructs and I listen once again. lifting my hips. Shauna grabs the waistband of both my shorts and panties, taking them off in one swift motion. Shauna straddles my thigh and she lifts her fingers to my lips, "Suck." And, again, I listen. I take both her fingers into my mouth and Shauna gasps, her eyes locked on my lips. I swirled my tongue around her fingers and Shauna moaned, rolling her hips against my thigh as she watched me. I could feel her wetness coating my thigh.

Shauna pulled her fingers out of my mouth, moving them down to my clit. Her fingers ghosted over where I needed them most, "Please, Shauna."

Shauna smirks, her thumb circling my clit a little more firmly now. Her other fingers slipping lower, teasing my entrance. I jerk my hips forward and Shauna laughs, "Are you really that desperate?" She teases and before I can even reply, she gives me exactly what I need. Her fingers slide into me, her fingers slowly thrusting into me. She's matching her own pace as she moves against my thigh. Shauna ruts against my thigh, her movements becoming rougher and less controlled. Her fingers pick up their pace, her thumb pressing down perfectly on my clit as her fingers curl inside me, "Y-You feel so good, (Y/n), so tight.." Shauna moans. I held onto Shauna hips, helping her grind against my thigh as she thrusted into me, "I'm close." Shauna moaned, voice breaking. Her movements sped up, aching to finish together.

"Me too." Shauna's eyes seemed to light up, her movements becoming less sloppy and more focused like it was her absolute mission to get me off, as if there was nothing in this world that was more important. Her fingers curled again, hitting my g-spot. My nails dug into her sides and I watched as Shauna threw her head back, a loud moan erupting from her lips as I tightened around her fingers. Her thrusts, both on my thigh and with her fingers, slowed down as we both rode out our orgasms.

Shauna pulled her fingers out, still sitting on my trembling thigh as she brought her fingers to her lips, licking off every last drop of my cum, "You taste so good." She moaned as she licked, "So, so good." She continued as she got off my thigh, laying down next to me.

Shauna propped herself up on her elbow and stared at me, "That was way better than studying." She said with a laugh, pecking my lips.

Masterlist

[mingtinys]

" i would do anything for you "

pairing : lee chan x gn!reader

"13 ways to say "i love you" with seventeen"

warnings : traffic violations ( for a good cause ! )

word count : 0.6 k

a/n : it's bittersweet posting this last part of the series :( i'm so sad for it to end cause i've had so much fun , but i couldn't be happier with how it turned out ! thank you to everyone that showed this series so much love and support <3 next up .... an nct series !!

Maybe you're just being paranoid. Perhaps the scratching at your back door wasn't some crazed killer messing with you before the inevitable. In fact, it's extremely likely you've simply stayed up too late and now your brain is playing tricks. But are you willing to take that chance? Absolutely not.

The fifth scratch comes and you're picking up the phone to dial the first person you can think of.

Chan reaches your home at a speed only possible by violating a few traffic laws. Armed with nothing but a broken broomstick and his dinosaur bedroom slippers. You're not even sure he's entirely awake. But he marches his way through your home and straight to the back door with conviction, advising you to stay back while he handles it.

He lowers his voice a few octaves as he speaks. "Whoever is out there, you better knock it off!" The scratching noise picks up. "I'll come out there!" Chan warns, though sounding a little unsure. Yet the scratching never ceases.

At this point, the genius thought to call the police finally enters your panicked brain. Something that probably should have been your first instinct. But it's too late, you can hear Chan thrusting the door open. "Alright, you asked for it– oh..."

When your savior returns, a fluffy orange creature in hand, you feel your face drain of all color. Your friend's cat. The one you were supposed to be sitting while they were away on a business trip. You'd forgotten you'd even let him outside to explore hours ago.

Chan points to the cat with a mock-serious look, "Is this guy bothering you, babe?"

Though severely embarrassed, you let out a sigh of relief. "I'm so sorry, Peanut," you coo at the cat, carefully taking him from your boyfriend's arms and carrying him over to his food, which you're certain is what he was scratching to get in for.

When you spin back around, Chan's arms are crossed over his chest, an expectant look on his face. "You know, usually the knight in shining armor gets a kiss for his bravery."

The playful tone in his voice alleviates some of the guilt you feel for calling him over at two a.m. to defend you from a killer cat. A gesture for which you're more than happy to reward with a kiss or two. And once he's claimed his prize, Chan happily gathers you in his arms. He rubs circles into your back, soothing any remaining anxiety in your muscles.

"I'm sorry you came all the way here for nothing," you mumble into his shoulder. "I guess I watched one too many crime shows and sort of panicked."

"You don't need to apologize. It's my job to be here whenever you need me." He pulls back and takes your face in his hands, holding your gaze with genuine eyes. "I would do anything for you."

That confession earns him a second kiss, causing him to break out in a dopey grin. "My hero," you tease, although he looks rather proud of himself for it.

"One question though?"

"What's that?"

"If you thought someone was trying to break in, why didn't you just call the police?"

Trust, Chan is over the moon to be the person you call in a time of need. But realistically, what was he supposed to do? Fight to the death with his bare hands and a broomstick to save you? He absolutely would... doesn't mean he'd win.

You pause. "I don't know, I guess I just panicked and thought of you first."

Chan is probably going to be riding that ego boost for the rest of his life.

taglist: @matchahyuck @dontwannaexsist @minnieminshi @myfavoritedelusion @armycarat2612

[callizinc]

so how do you interpret the significance of the themes in ena overall. like potential messaging. and how does dream bbq interact with the themes established in the youtube series.

i’ve seen people say they interpret it as anything from commentary on immigration (particularly how immigrants are treated poorly) to like, internet culture, or autism, or whatever really. i noticed a lot of people relate their own experiences to it. it’s cool how many different interpretations people get out of it (even if folks get a little in the weeds about the symbolism sometimes, and personally i’m not as focused on potential symbolism as the worldbuilding in itself)

This is an absolutely diabolical (/positive) ask to send me . This is like opening the floodgates to world's largest and most dangerous dam. Oh my goodness gracious

WELL!! That is of course such a good and cool question!! to be honest, i hope i can answer it sufficiently, since i've spent the most time thinking about Specific things in dbbq so far as opposed to the bigger and greater picture—But here's the thoughts i have about all that at present!

I guess, for one, i think interpreting the series to be commentaries on immigration, internet culture, and/or neurodivergence and the like are all completely fair and valid. I don't have much to say about those interpretations at the moment myself, but still, I think they're all interesting in their own right! I also agree 100% that it's super cool how many interpretations people have; even if i. Don't vibe with all of them LOL, i genuinely really like how much thought it inspires!

Right now, i can't help but interpret the game as a commentary on unhealthy work/life balances and abusive work dynamics. Which feels like the most obvious interpretation possible but... still LOL.

Ena's literal only moods are "smooth talking salesperson obsessed with work" and "pissed at everyone because of her stupid job she doesn't even like". There's her line where she goes "Oh, I am no longer the boss of myself" with extreme nonchalance, Not to mention she goes to The Club one single time and has a breakdown and starts like. turning into branches or something ("I need to get back to my deplorable job... I can't afford another moment of joy.." LIKE GIRL...).

We don't even know what her job... Is? like obviously she's a salesperson but, What is she supposed to be selling? and i know they have the slot machines and everything, but what does her Business even Do? The fact that none of this is clear IS amusing, but i also feel like it represents how her job, ultimately, is Not of importance. Nothing she's doing is of true value to herself, nor to others, but she commits her entire life to her shitty job anyway, leaving no room to even consider breaks or ANY life Outside of work ("any good business should be open all hours" ...).

Not to mention how. you know. Everybody hates her 😭 WHICH IS A WHOLE CAN OF WORMS ON ITS OWN, But i feel it also fits into this interpretation; She, for whatever reason, commits her life to work, the thing you're Supposed to do to be a valuable member of society, so to say, yet it gains her no respect, no benefits, seemingly nothing good at all. Maybe she works so hard to try to gain the respect of others, even though, just like how our capitalistic workplaces will chew you up and spit you back out, and no matter how hard you work, those people will never truly care about you.

However, the references to violence in regards to Ena are also important, i think, with the "I'm not doing ANYTHING!" scene, and the fact that the game trailer shows two accounts of Ena wielding a gun, and also.. A shot of Ena as an armless crumbling green zombie in the same desolate landscape full of raining bullets.

I'm unsure where to go with that as of right now—mostly because I don't think the game would draw parallels between Specific real life events, I'd still want to ensure i'm being respectful if i am to start talking about something like war/soldier theming. Still, i think this has to be significant, there's two separate depictions of Ena wielding a gun in the game's trailer, and I truly don't know how to else you're meant to interpret the scenes of distressed and desolate Enas around giant knives and raining bullets LOL

...I also just remembered you also asked how DBBQ's themes interact with the youtube series's themes, But. i feel embarrassed enough already having written this much. and also I don't know. About that one. I don't knowwwww. So um. I'm gonna stop here 😭

[tayraedoll]

Sinful

I am so sorry for the wait, but it is finally finished! My PR for longest one-shot coming in at 7,139 words. I was not anticipating it being so long at first, but this story took a life of it's own as soon as I started writing it. I hope you enjoy!

Human AU

Summary: You meet a mysterious man at a sex club.

Disclaimer: This fic includes religious views that may be extreme. I am guessing that if you are reading a fanfic based on a show about Hell that this is not a problem for you. But I will let this serve as a warning- you are responsible for your own media consumption.

TW: P in V intercourse, Slight Dom/Sub relationships, religious abuse, religious indoctrination, sexual harassment, injury- bloody nose, use of sex toys, whipping, swearing, alcohol use

Good girls like you shouldn't be here.

You stare up at the inconspicuous building, there was absolutely nothing special about it. Just a plain, old, red brick building with a few vines growing across the left side. The fact that there were no windows was the most unusual thing about it. Yet, your feet remained firmly planted on the sidewalk outside, as if an unseen force was barring your entry into the establishment. Your heartbeat thrummed erratically in your chest, your body reacting to what this building was- what it represented- despite it's innocent appearance.

The Rubber Duck was certainly an unusual name for a sex club, though you supposed that is probably how it avoided attracting attention to itself. You slowly reach your hand into your pocket and pull out the duck pendant that would grant you entry into the city's most exclusive sex club. Letting out a breath, you think back on the events that led you to be here.

You grew up in a small town; in a strict, religious household. The Bible was law and you were expected to attend church a minimum of twice per week. As a young woman, you were raised to be submissive and always put a man's needs above your own. You were expected to meet a young man, marry him, and have children rather than focus any energy on your own career or personal development. You were to be a homemaker, wife, and mother and never question your husband or wonder at the world beyond the walls of your household.

However, the older you got, the more these expectations weighed on your spirit. You knew that your household would become your prison, so you ran and left it all far behind you. Ironically, you found yourself in Pentacity; a place that was rumored to be so veiled in sin that it was often referred to as PentaGRAMcity. You were raised to believe this place was Hell on Earth, but now, it served as your haven. It was here that you could finally be whoever you wanted to be.

Due to your upbringing, you were quite familiar with the deadly sins; you had spent much of your time in Pentacity working your way down the list of them to discover what about them was so horrible. You had to admit, laying around your apartment doing nothing for a week straight and eating an entire package of Thin Mints was quite nice. There was one sin you had been avoiding however- lust.

The extent of your knowledge of sex was simply abstinence until marriage or you'll go to hell. You had attempted to look a few things up, but quickly slammed your laptop shut with wide eyes and red cheeks when you saw more than you bargained for. Perhaps it would make more sense for you to wait until you met someone special, someone who loved you, before ridding yourself of your virginity. But that sounded like what the priests used to tell you and you were dead set on breaking all the rules now.

You glance back up at the heavy, wooden door in front of you, taking a deep breath and willing your feet to finally move you across the threshold and into the lion's den. Good girls like you shouldn't be here.

But you didn't want to be a good girl anymore.

Once inside, you were greeted by a tall man with dark hair sitting behind a check-in desk. The lobby was rather small, the desk nearly spanning the width of the room, but it felt cozy. Warm scents of vanilla, cinnamon, and a hint of apple hit your nose and soft classical music reached your ears. It quickly became obvious to you that the owner took great care in putting clients at ease, a reassurance that this was a safe place to explore one's desires.

"How may I be of assistance?", the man asked in a soft, British accent. He flashed a warm smile that helped to ease your nerves.

"Umm...I'm new here, this is my first visit", you awkwardly hold up your pendant, face flushing in embarrassment.

The man simply smiled at you again and nodded, "Ah yes, I was told we had a new member. Here is the contract, a copy of your application is attached; please verify this information is correct and sign at the bottom. Only the owner and myself will ever see this information, the goal for our guests is anonymity, so please choose a name you'd like to be called while here." He extended a thick stack of papers and a pen towards you. You looked back over your application, reminiscing filling the the nearly 25-page document out.

The Rubber Duck only served a limited number of clients, so they only opened up applications for new ones when current clients discontinued their contracts for whatever reason. The owner was extremely particular of the the clientele his establishment served; there was a grueling background check to make sure you weren't a sexual predator as well as a test for every STI under the sun. It was thorough, but it ensured that everyone was safe. Once you verified that your information was accurate, you moved on to read the official membership contract that was ALSO 25 pages long; the basics of it were that everything done would be 100% consensual and if a party wished to cease a sexual act at any point then the other parties involved were required to stop all further action immediately. Failure to comply with the rules would result in immediate termination of the contract and removal from the establishment.

It was all reasonable and straightforward, the only part that gave you pause was the fake name you'd go by. You bit your bottom lip, racking your brain for something that would suit you but would also (hopefully) be sexy. Finally, you settled on one- Angel. You quickly signed off on it before you could overthink it and slid the completed contract back over to the gentleman who was patiently waiting on you.

He glanced down at it for a second before beaming at you once again, "Welcome to The Rubber Duck, Miss Angel. If there is anything you need, please do not hesitate to let myself or the bartender know. We hope you enjoy your time with us." At the end of his speech, he reached below his desk and pressed something that made the wall next to you open up a hidden doorway. He gestured to the new entryway and you took that as your cue to enter.

There was no going back now.

The main room of The Rubber Duck was large, with a bar situated on the far wall. There were an assortment of tables, chairs, and couches that various couples and multiples sat at conversing. The walls were decorated in assorted purple and golden hues, the lights dimmed slightly to enhance the ambiance. The sweet smell of apple pie followed you into this room, blending slightly with the smell of perfumes from various patrons. Surrounding the main room were various doorways that, you guessed, led to the private rooms where people could act out their fantasies in private.

You nibble on your lip again, feeling a bit awkward standing in the middle of the room. Didn't the man at the front desk say you could talk to the bartender? The bar was probably your best bet on trying to blend in, you could use a drink anyway. You quickly make your way over to the bar; it wasn't busy, only a few other couples seated on the opposite side of the U-shaped table from where you sat. You were so busy taking in your surroundings that you hadn't noticed the bartender approach until he cleared his throat to catch your attention, "How can I help you Miss?"

Slightly startled, you whip back around and find the most beautiful man you had ever seen smiling at you politely. He had golden hair with deep side burns, pale skin, and warm, honeyed eyes. You wondered briefly how his eyes could be such an unnatural shade, body modifications were not uncommon in Pentacity, so they could have been either surgically done or perhaps he was just wearing colored contacts. He wore a white suit that was tailored perfectly to fit his lithe frame, complete with golden accents and a dark purple bowtie that fit the color scheme of the room. The handsome man was on the shorter side, but his broad shoulders hinted at a musculature that lay underneath his suit that would suggest he was definitely not weak.

You gulp, your mouth going dry, and it occurs to you that he had asked you a question and you had spent longer than can be considered polite just ogling at him. "Uhh I'm not sure. Is there anything you recommend?"

The man chuckles, his voice- deep and smooth- washes over you like rich brandy; you are sure you can get drunk on just his voice alone. "I've got just the drink, wait here for a sec."

He darts off to make you your mystery drink, leaving you blushing like a school girl on your barstool. Get it together, you mentally chide yourself. Your fingers come up to fiddle with the ends of your hair, a nervous tick of yours, as you try to regain your composure. You start to think that joining a sex club in order to lose your virginity may not have been a good idea. Before you can make a cowardly dash for the door, however, the bartender returns with a lime-green drink and sets it down in front of you. "An appletini, the house specialty", he beams at you.

You take an inquisitive sip, humming in appreciation at the sweet but crisp taste of the cocktail and smile back at the mystery man before thanking him. "So, what should I call you New Girl?", he asks as he wipes down the bar.

You sputter, coughing into your drink a bit, "Is it that obvious?"

Mystery Man hums, "I'm the bartender- I see everyone who comes in here- and I have never seen you before. Plus your eyes keep darting around like you are about to bolt at any second. It's normal for newcomers to be nervous, but I promise you that no one will do you any harm here."

Your hands return to their fiddling with your hair, a move that does not go unnoticed by the gentleman keeping you company. "Sorry, I've just never been in a place like this before. I'm Angel by the way." You reflexively stick your hand out over the bar for a handshake, only to immediately feel awkward about doing so because who shakes hands with the bartender?!

However, your worries were quickly dashed when a warm hand wrapped around yours, a curious look in his eyes as he regarded you, "People here call me Lu, unless they want to get cheeky and call me Lulu.", he laughs lowly to himself. You giggled and finish off your appletini, only to have a second one immediately replace it. You liked Lu, he was easy to get along with and made you feel safe and secure.

Before you knew it, you were six appletinis deep and never bothered to leave the bar. Over the course of the night you had let your guard down, your body draping over the edge of the bar as you leaned in to get closer to Lu and your fingers were relaxed around your martini glass. You were so engrossed in the story the blonde was telling about a disagreement he had with his family- most notably his brother Michael- that you hadn't realized the club had emptied for the night.

"So Angel, mind if I ask you just one last question? I'll admit, I have been dying to know the answer", Lu asked as he was wiping the bar down one last time. You nod, smiling and feeling a bit tipsy as you played with the apple garnish in your empty glass. Lu stopped wiping the counters down and turned so he was fully facing you, his expression still gentle but more serious, "Why are you here?"

Your gaze flickers back to your glass as your fingertips brush through the ends of your hair; you take a moment to gather your thoughts, mostly because you were not sure how exactly to voice them. Finally, you give him the only answer that really made any sense, "I just don't want to do what others tell to anymore. I want to take control of my own life."

There's a heavy silence after your confession and you hesitantly look back up, expecting to see pity in those amber eyes. What you actually discovered in those honeyed depths, however, wasn't pity- but understanding. He looked at you like he was staring straight into the depths of your restless spirit and he held the key to your gilded cage; he looked at you in a way that one would discern their own reflection.

You lost track of time as you stared back into his golden irises, it could have been seconds or hours before he finally spoke again, whispering softly as though you'd bolt if he spoke any louder, "How are you getting home tonight Angel?"

You bite your lip, but you can't bring yourself to break eye contact, "I took the bus here."

"The Rubber Duck offers a shuttle service, it ensures that our clients get home safely despite how they choose to indulge for the night. I'll ask Charon to drive you home," he walks around the bar and extends a hand for you to take before escorting you back to the front lobby.

It turns out that Charon is the man at the front desk, he immediately grabbed a set of keys and went out to pull a car around front at Lu's request. As Lu was helping you into the backseat of the white Rolls Royce, you turn to him and smile shyly, "Thank you for keeping me company tonight Lu, you are a very good bartender. You should get a raise!"

Lu chuckled fondly at your remarks, "I will make sure to tell the owner."

Before he could pull away you grab his arm, curiosity taking over, "What is he like? The owner."

Lu's expression suddenly becomes guarded, his jaw tensing slightly, "What have you heard?"

You look behind him slightly as you sorted through the rumors you'd heard on the street, as well as the things you were told by your church elders. "That the man is the Devil, that he is the living embodiment of sin itself", your gaze returns to his face, catching the way it falls slightly and the look in his eyes becomes distant.

He turns back to you with a sad smile, "Goodnight Angel", and closes the door.

Charon and you spend the whole ride back to your apartment in comfortable silence. You keep replaying Lu's strange behavior in your head, there was something in his expression that mystified you- why did he care about the reputation of the club's owner? You knew one thing for sure- you were going to find out.

You had returned to The Rubber Duck every night the following week and every night you sat at the bar talking with Lu. It was strange, when you appeared at the club the second night he was back to his chipper self, no sign of the melancholy you caught a glimpse of the night before.

And it was never brought up since.

The few times you had tried to ask about it, the blonde was quick to change the subject or flitted away to get another member a drink. It frustrated you- what was he trying to hide?

"Y'know, the point of a pleasure club is to indulge in your wildest fantasies. Not just sit and hang out with the bartender every night", Lu's baritone voice broke your train of thought. Honestly, you had all but forgotten that The Rubber Duck was a sex club. Your thirst to solve the mystery of who the bartender was overshadowed your quest to lose your virginity the past week.

"I'm just taking things at my own pace. It's not like anyone else has tried to hit on me either", you pout.

Lu chuckles as he tops off a beer for another member, the bar is much busier tonight. It's Friday and the whole club is busier than it has a been all week; some of the faces you recognize from previous visits but there were many that were new. "That's probably because you have spent every night with me Angel. I'll make it a bit easier on you tonight though, the bar is busy so I won't be able to horde your time tonight like usual. Try talking to one other person tonight", he gave you a wink, clearly dismissing you to your own devices tonight.

You sigh and saunter over to a nearby, uninhabited table. You nurse your appletini and spend your time people-watching the other members of the club. You were mesmerized by a tall, dark-haired man blowing cannabis smoke into a shorter man's lips when the chair next to you was loudly pulled back, startling you out of your thoughts.

"Easy Sweetheart, I don't bite. No reason to be so jumpy", a harsh, Russian-sounding accent rang out from beside you. An older man with a greyed beard and short-buzzed hair took the extra seat. A cold, dead look in his eyes immediately set alarm bells off in your head.

"You're new," he stated, "What name have you chosen for yourself?" He began looking you up and down, like a predator sizing up its prey.

"Angel", you reply stiffly, subtly angling yourself away from the man.

The man notices your discomfort and smiles, the wicked grin shooting chills down your spine as it stretched across his face. He slowly reaches a hand out and curls it around your leg just above your knee. "The fresh ones are always nervous at the beginning. Come Angel, I'll show you a good time."

He reaches for you hand and you clutch it to your chest before he can grab it. "No, I am not interested." Your heart is hammering in your chest, sweat begins to pool along your brow and your face feels like it is on fire. You just want this man to go away. "Please leave me alone", you plead more breathily than you would have liked.

A disturbingly dark chuckle is his only response as he once again reaches for your hand and pulls, trying to drag you off with him.

Before you can fully comprehend what is going on, a low growl cuts through the air like a knife, "I believe the lady said no." Your arm was suddenly wrenched free from the man's grasp, the momentum sending you back down into your chair. You heard a sickening crunch followed by a thud and a yowl of agony; when your eyes finally adjusted to the scene in front of you, you found Lu holding the man against the wall by his shirt and the man grasping his nose which was bleeding profusely. Lu's face was twisted in an unbridled rage you had never seen on him before; his caring, soft, and open features were now callous and sharp.

It did not seem to matter to either party that Lu was several inches shorter than the man he had pinned as Lu leaned forward to whisper menacingly, "Get the fuck out of my club. Your privileges are hereby revoked." Lu removed his grip from the guy's shirt and the man crumpled to the floor in a heap before he took off for the exit, holding his broken nose the whole way out. A warm pressure on your cheek suddenly startled you as you stared after the man's retreating form, Lu was knelt in front of you and you hadn't even realized it. He opened his mouth and spoke a single name- your real name- and your breath caught in your throat.

Lu hesitantly reached for your hand, gently tugging you up when you didn't pull away. He led you passed the bar- which you noticed was now completely devoid of all guests- and through a door hidden behind it. He closed the door behind him before turning to you, concern clearly etched into his golden eyes,"Are you alright?"

"How did you know my name?", you blurted.

His shoulders slump, he sighs and looks anywhere but at you for a moment. Your mind is racing a million miles a minute, your fingers harshly gripping at the ends of your hair as you start to think out loud. "Charon said only he and the owner would know our real names. Does that mean you..." you trail off and look back at your friend with wide eyes.

Lu looks back at you with regret now swimming in his honeyed eyes before nodding once in confirmation. You struggle to make sense of the puzzle that now formed in your head. You thought about all the things you had heard about the man who owned The Rubber Duck- he was a heathen, a liar, a traitorous snake, and a corruptor. He was the devil.

But none of those descriptors matched the man you had come to know. Lu was kind, gentle, a great listener and storyteller. He had protected you as if he were your guardian angel.

"I understand if you are angry," Lu began, "I haven't been forthcoming with you." He sits heavily onto a nearby couch, "I try not to disclose my identity to newcomers. I hold off on letting people know who the bartender is for as long as possible until I have to use a show of force to reprimand someone or kick them out."

You cock your head to the side curiously, "Why do you work at the bar? Why not hire an actual bartender?"

He looks at you with a half-smile, "It allows me the best view of the lounge... and people aren't afraid to show you who they really are if they think you are meant to serve them."

You nod in understanding, "I'm not angry. This actually clears up a lot of questions for me. Thank you Lu, for sharing this information with me now."

His smile now spreads across his face with a light-hearted chuckle of relief. You smile back and stoop down to hug him. When you pull away you look around the room, finally taking it in after your nerves settled from the altercation out front; when your brain registered the items that surrounded you, your skin instantly flared red-hot. You were in some sort of play room you had only ever heard about in books and porn. Along the far wall was a shelf with assorted toys including whips, paddles, and canes of all kinds; next to it was a large, chestnut drawer. The wall immediately to your right held an X-shaped cross, while the wall to your left had a king-sized bed with a large frame featuring all kinds of loops and handles. Your mouth went dry, you were completely transfixed, all you could do was stare.

Lu watched you take in the sights of the room; he thought for a moment before a sly, closed-mouth grin took over his face. "I'll admit, it's been awhile since I've used this room. I'm fairly particular about my partners, most people don't realize I have my own playroom." He turned back to you and slowly extended his hand to you, "Do you trust me?"

You don't even think about your answer, you simply accept his hand and let him lead you to the shelves across the room. His free hand runs over some of the whips on display, "There's pleasure in pain, Angel; if you'll allow it, I'd like to show you just how much those lines can blur." He grabs a smaller whip made of deep-black leather, it reminded you of a riding crop used for horses. Lu slowly turned your wrist in his hand so your palm faced towards the ceiling. He looks deeply into your eyes and you can't bring yourself to look away from his calm, honest expression as he cracks the whip across the meaty part of your hand. You gasp more from the sound, it burned slightly, but it wasn't painful. Your face grows hot and you begin to pant slightly, your clothes starting to feel a bit restricting on your sensitive body. Lu watched every minute change in your body language, grinning again when you reacted so positively to the experimental tap he gave, "I'd like to teach you how to safely live out your desires and fantasies. Will you allow me to do that with you Angel?"

You stare at him with wide eyes and nod quickly. Lu chuckles at your eager expression, "I need you to use your voice Baby. I need to hear your verbal consent. You can always change your mind and say no if it becomes too much."

Swallowing hard to get rid of the lump in your throat, you are finally able to squeak out a "Yes". Satisfied with your confirmation of consent, Lu leads you over to the X-cross. He leans close to you, breath fanning across your cheek as he whispers, "We will use the traffic light system. When I ask you what color you are I want you to answer green for 'keep going', yellow for 'I'm unsure', and red for 'stop'. You can tell me to stop at any point and I promise you that I will obey. Do you understand?" He pulls away from you slightly as he gauges your reaction.

You nod again before a breathy "Yes", escapes your lips. Lu chuckles richly, "Good girl. Now, how about we get out of these clothes?" His lips crashed into yours before you could react, a startled yelp jumping out of your throat that he greedily swallowed. The kiss was firm, but gentle; you clung to his shirt as his arms snaked around your waist to pull you closer. You felt his tongue swipe against your bottom lip, asking for entry that you happily granted. He tasted like apples and spice, the same heavenly concoction that made the club smell so homely. God, everything about this man made you feel safe.

Both your shirts and pants were quickly discarded onto the floor. Your fingers traced down the planes of his stomach, marveling at the ridges of muscle that felt as if they were carved from stone. Lu's fingers trace along the straps of your candied-apple-red bra, he breaks away from you to take in the sight of you- panting and breathless- in nothing but your underwear before him. His voice seems to drop an octave when he speaks, "Red is definitely your color Baby. You are ravishing just like this."

He slowly guides the straps down your arms before reaching behind you to expertly unclasp your bra. You've never been so naked in front of a man before, but strangely, you did not feel uncomfortable as his eyes roamed across the skin that was newly exposed. You feel your nipples harden under his stare, making you bite your lip in anticipation. He pulls you in for another passionate kiss before slowly walking you back to the cross. Once there, he raises your hands over your head and clasps each wrist into a restraint, "What color are you Angel?", he asks against your lips.

"Green", you respond in a voice that is much clearer than you anticipated.

He hums, "Good. Remember, if you are uncomfortable at any point all you have to do is tell me." He walks over to the drawers and opens the top one, pulling out a sleek, burgundy red strip of silk. When he returns to you, he immediately ties it around your head, covering your eyes. "Losing your sight enhances your other senses," he explains, "I'd like you to be as sensitive to touch as I can get you."

Lu's fingers trail down your sides, his nails scraping your skin just hard enough to raise goosebumps along your flesh. His breath ghosts down your neck as he begins leaving open-mouthed kisses on your pulse point. You throw your head back and cry out the loudest, most pornographic moan of your entire life. You can feel his smile at your reaction as his lips trail down between your breasts and over your navel. When he reaches your pubic bone, his lips skip over to your right thigh and continue their journey downward- entirely bypassing the area you wanted him most. "Lu please!", you protest but all he does is chuckle back at you.

"Patience Angel, we've only just begun. I've barely touched you yet." he grips your leg behind the knee and lifts it so he can more easily skim his lips down your shin. He plants his very last kiss on the tops of your toes before he moves your leg out and shackles your ankle to the cross. Your breath catches in your throat when he stands back up and begins the ritual all over again, but traveling down your left side this time. By the time your left ankle is restrained, you are a writhing mess of pure need. You were now blindfolded, completely spread open, and restrained for him. The only thing keeping you from being bare to him as well was the tiny, red g-string you wore which barely covered anything.

His voice breaks you from your thoughts, "Color Baby Girl?"

"Green! So green! Please, please just touch me!", your voice sounds so pathetically desperate that you barely recognize it.

The blonde man hums, "Have you ever masturbated before?"

The question catches you off-guard; you sputter slightly before answering, "Y-yes. Why is that relevant?"

"What did you use? Your fingers? Or have you used toys on yourself?", he cocks his head to the side curiously even though you can't see it.

"Uhh- just my fingers. I'm not exactly sure how to use toys..." your voice trails off as your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. Sex itself was taboo in the household you grew up in, and anything that gravitated towards being "kinky" was downright deviant.

Lu did not laugh or do anything to cast judgement on your lack of knowledge, he simply nodded to himself as if you just confirmed his suspicions. "I'd like to use a couple of things on you- the crop that you felt before and a bullet vibrator. Both are good toys for beginners as we figure out what you like."

Your heart clenched at the word "we"; you were hoping that whatever happens with Lu tonight was not a one-off situation. You nod and respond "Yes, Lu."

His hands suddenly cup your face gently, "I'd like you to call me by my full name- Lucifer."

You don't need to have your sight to feel the way his eyes were boring into you. You swallow thickly before whispering "Yes, Lucifer."

Lucifer's body shudders at the sound of his name rolling off your lips, "Good girl."

He walks away from you and you hear him shuffle through one of the drawers. When he returns you feel him begin to glide a smooth, soft object down your stomach, starting right below your breasts. When it reaches your belly button it suddenly starts to vibrate, your body jolts at the unexpected sensation but it was not unpleasant. "It's just the vibrator", Lucifer explains, "it's nothing to be afraid of. All it will do is make you feel tingly, and this kind isn't meant for penetration so it will remain outside of your body. What color are you now?"

"Green," you gasp out as the vibrator travels lower, however, he pulls it away before it reaches the apex of your thighs and you groan in frustration.

"Are you ready to begin?", his voice is darker and more husky than you've heard it before, it erupts goosebumps across your skin.

Truthfully, you've been ready; now, the anticipation and nerves come all at once at the thought that he will finally give you what you crave.

"Yes Lucifer."

"Good girl."

There's stillness then, you strain your ears to hear anything that may give you any indication as to where he is or what he is doing. Did he just leave you here like this? Just as you were about to call out to him, the first crack of the crop landed across your outer thigh. Your sharp inhale was more from the sound it made than any actual pain felt, until the vibrator was pressed directly to the spot the crop just was- the vibrations soothing the now reddened skin.

Before you could fully comprehend what was going on, the crop landed on your other thigh with the vibrator quickly following it. Every nerve in your body was alight, the sensations nearly overwhelming. When the crop came down close to your inner thigh, you moaned wantonly; when the vibrator soothed the aching spot, your wrists drew their restraints taut. Lucifer gradually got closer and closer to your barely-covered mound with each whack, and your cries became more desperate. Right before he was about the finally reach your aching core, there was a pause.

"Color Angel?"

"Oh my god fucking GREEN!", you scream. By this point, you were sure you would cry if he stopped now.

You braced yourself, but the whip did not hit your clit as you thought it would. Instead, the whip hit your nipple gently but sharply as the vibrator was pressed on your clit through the thin fabric of your panties. The stinging sensation on your nipple coupled with the vibrator intensely stimulating your clit hurled you over the cliff at a speed you did not think possible. Your jaw dropped open wide as you screeched out a sound you had never heard yourself make before as your orgasm crashed through you. Your legs buckled beneath you and Lucifer caught you so that you wouldn't strain your wrists by making them hold your bodyweight. Lucifer gently ran his hands through your hair as he whispered words of praise, he removed your blindfold and kissed you sweetly while freeing your hands from the restraints. Once your legs stopped trembling, he let you go and freed your ankles as well.

"You did so well Baby Girl, especially for your first time", he kissed your forehead and you smiled up at him. Then you frowned as a realization dawned on you.

"What about you?" you ask tentatively.

"What about me?" he looked down at you curiously.

"I want you to feel good too. I don't want to be done yet", you move to kiss him, he allows it but pulls away quickly to look into your eyes.

"I don't want you to feel that you need to do anything you are not ready for. I promise, I'm fine."

You shook your head, you were going to watch this man fall apart if it was the last thing you did. "I want to Lucifer, please, let me make you feel good", you looked up at him through your lashes and pressed yourself to his chest, rubbing against his erection subtly.

Lucifer hissed and gripped your shoulders, "Yes, okay fine!" Then he grinned mischievously before handing the crop over to you. Your heart skipped a beat as you reflexively wrapped your fingers around the leather handle. "On one condition Angel- you said you came here because you wanted to be in control, so, be in control Baby." He backed himself up to the cross and waited patiently for you to follow him. You stared at the whip in your hands- were you really capable of using this on him? What if you hurt him? I mean yea, he had used it on you and it felt good, but he knew what he was doing and you did not. As if sensing your turmoil, Lucifer spoke up again, "You won't hurt me Baby, I'll teach you how to use that thing properly", he winked at you encouragingly.

You took a deep breath and exhaled forcefully to calm your nerves and squared your shoulders as you made you way over to him. Grabbing the blindfold from him, you invaded his space to force him against the cross and effectively cut his sight off the way he did yours earlier. You then restrained his wrists, once you were sure he couldn't move, you figured it was time for a little payback. Just as he did to you, you wrapped your lips around the skin on his pulse point and sucked gently, earning a whine from the King Sin himself. That noise shot straight to your core and your thighs clenched, suddenly, hearing him make that sound as many times as you could became your life's mission. You shackled his ankles in in the same fashion as he did yours, smiling devilishly when you heard his breath hitch as your lips ran down his thighs parallel to his length.

Now, he was helpless before you. You bit your lip at the sight of his chest heaving with every breath in his state of arousal. "What color are you Lucifer?" you made sure to ask to prolong his torture like he did yours.

"Green Baby Girl, all the way green.", he rasped. "Now, with the crop, concentrate mostly on the thigh. The butt is also a good place but it is hard to reach from this angle. If you go for the groin or chest, ease up on your swings- those areas are more sensitive. Never go for the face, throat, or joints."

You nod, hands squeezing the crop to help ground you "Got it. Are you ready to begin?"

"Yes, Angel."

You took a pause just like he did at first, although, yours was mostly to steel your nerves rather than to leave him in suspense. You bit your lip as you eyed a spot on his outer thigh, swallowing the lump in your throat, you finally brought yourself to crack the crop across his pale flesh.

His reaction was immediate, a whine hissing from between his lips as his body started to tremble. You had to clench your thighs again as you watched him respond to your dominance; something in you just clicked, like a puzzle piece locking into place.

And you craved for more.

You barely gave a pause before hitting his other thigh in the same place; this time, however, you bent low and sucked on the raised flesh hard. The guttural moan the man above you let out was all the confirmation you needed to keep going. You slowly made your way towards his crotch, his thighs peppered with deep, purple hickeys as you went. The sight of Lucifer completely marked up by you was intoxicating, you couldn't take it anymore- you had to have him.

You dropped the crop and pulled him down roughly for sloppy, desperate kiss. He groaned into your mouth and you swallowed it greedily. "I need you, please, I need you so bad Lu", you pleaded.

"Untie me, Angel, and you can have me", his voice was warm and thick like molasses. You scrambled to release the restraints, your trembling hands making the process ten times more difficult. When his hands were finally freed, Lu quickly released his ankles before grabbing you and pulling you against him. His tongue invaded your mouth with the same unbridled need yours did earlier. His hands trailed down your back, cupping your ass before pulling your panties down and letting them pool around your feet. He then lifted you by your thighs and walked you over to the bed, sitting down on the edge as you straddled his lap.

You couldn't wait any longer, you clawed at his boxer briefs to get them down just low enough for his cock to spring free. Not giving yourself time to hesitate, you lined him up at your entrance and slowly forced yourself to sink down on him. Your body tensed slightly as the stretch burned at first, Lucifers fingers rubbed soothing circles into your spine as he whispered praise in your ear. You stilled and took a few deep breaths once he was fully sheathed inside of you, Lucifer cupped your face in his hands and leaned his forehead against yours, "You're taking me so well Baby Girl, you feel absolutely incredible. Take your time, we will take things at your pace."

Once the stinging dissipated, you moved your hips in a slow circle in his lap; pleasure bolted up your spine like lightning and you cried out as Lu grunted. His hands flew to your hips as he began to guide you through the movements, sliding up and down his shaft slowly at first but picking up speed as you went. Your nails dug into his shoulders as your toes curled, soon, you were grinding your hips into his with reckless abandon as all you cared about was chasing the pleasure he was giving you.

"Fuck Angel, you are so fucking perfect. Where have you been all my life?", Lu grunted out between groans. You're mewls were rising in pitch, your movements getting sloppy as your ecstasy climbed higher and higher.

"Lu! I n-need more! Please!", you gasped.

"Don't worry Baby, I've got you", Lu's hand found your clit and instantly began rubbing tight circles in time with your hips. The explosion of pleasure was so intense that you threw your head back and screamed out.

"That's it my Angel, just let it go", he coaxed and it was your undoing. Your vision went white as your entire body tensed with the force of your orgasm. Your mind barely registered that you were babbling, repeating Lucifer's name like a prayer as you came down from your high. While your body went completely limp, Lucifer took charge and kept your hips in position as he thrusted up into you, chasing his own climax.

When he finally reached his peak, he moaned your name low in his chest and sunk himself as deeply into you as he could get. He touched his forehead to yours again and you both just stared deeply into each other's eyes, no words needed to see the promises held within them for your entwined futures together.

You finally did it, you had lost your virginity- in your own way and on your own terms. With the man who was rumored to be the Devil himself.

And you had no doubt that he was your salvation.

[queermasculine]

Okay this is a stupid question. But. How do you… define butchness outside of doing good in communities? I’ve been personally over the “chivalry” thing for a while, but I have spent a lot of time building an internal identity around needing to be active in my community and then… being upset when I can’t do that. Your post really made something click but like. I don’t know what I have left, then. I feel very butch but I don’t know how to embody that anymore. Idk I guess im not really asking for a solid answer because you obviously can’t give me that— but I guess I’m just kind of trying to explain to someone who gets it

not a stupid question! you sound like a good person and i hope my post didn't give you (or anyone else) the wrong idea. my point was not that it's in any way wrong or regressive to express butchhood through selflessness or community good, not at all, in fact i find that extremely admirable – my point was simply to challenge these things as expectations we place upon ourselves (expectations that later come to haunt us when we don't measure up) and to gently expand the narrow notion that butchhood can only ever be about service, when there are as many meanings to butchhood as there are butch hearts out there. 

butches throughout the ages have formed identities very much like your own; based on not just appearance but on actions, their active roles within their communities and/or relationships profoundly intertwined with their identities as non-conforming women – the tradition you continue is a beautiful one, and although it's not one we share, you should never feel the need to change anything if you don't want to.

as for how to define butchhood outside of service, personally i've always thought of "butch" as being sort of like the masculinity that isn't supposed to exist, yet exists anyway. but we must all find our own meaning

[crusty-chronicles]

The Moon and Sun (Big Sib Reader X Gon/Killua)

Ch 18: For Whom The Bell Tolls: It Tolls For Thee

Synopsis: And then everything just fell apart.

Trigger warning: Extreme Violence

-----------------------------------

"You worked with the phantom troupe!!!”

You quickly covered Gon’s mouth with your hand. Looking around to see if anyone besides the two boys had heard.

“Shhh! Not so loud! And kinda.”

Ever since you'd first opened up, they wanted know everything. Down to the last detail. Of course there were parts of your childhood you'd never really be ready to discuss. But you could share the smaller things. You could talk about the games you'd play, the types of people who were in your clan, the missions you'd go on.

It was..nice. Memories you thought you'd never look back on fondly. You thought you'd never get a chance to reminisce like this. It was also the least you could do to take their minds off of things for a while. 

For the inevitable fight. 

Currently, everyone on the extermination team was heading towards East Gorteau. You and the boys included. So for however long this train ride lasted, you'd make the most of it.

“It was a way of testing me. See how well I'd get along with others given my track record. The only rule was that I couldn't talk to them.”

Oh yes. How could you forget the many lectures before you left? Ones that included your banishment if you were to fail. Though realistically, you probably would have been killed instead. 

You noticed the boys’ curious stares. You figured their friend Kurapika would have filled them in. Maybe he didn't know as much as you did. Albeit you didn't really have a choice, but still.

“It was for good reason. I heard the leader takes people's abilities. In hindsight it makes sense. He kept asking me questions.” You explained.

‘And what can you do little one?’

‘Is that your ability? How does it work?’

It was so painfully obvious looking back. They probably thought you'd be easy since you were a kid. But you were nothing if not true to your word. So you'd said absolutely nothing.

“Is that where you got the idea from?” Killua asked in reference to your new ability.

“Nah. Mines more of a substitution. I don't need to know anything about the person to take theirs.”

It was easier to toss away half your nen into the puppets you conjured. The condition was simpler. So long as you could switch last minute for a direct hit, you'd be able to mimic what they did. 

“That makes it a bigger gamble.” Gon said with a small frown. Remembering what Kite had said about his own ability. How chance made it stronger.

“C’mon. When has my speed ever failed me?” You tried to reassure.

“I guess. But just be careful.”

He'd been more clingy towards you. More protective. They both were. But the way Gon went about it felt more intense. He hardly let you go outside by yourself. Sticking stubbornly by your side. And he'd started enforcing a bedtime on you. Using those damn puppy eyes every time you refused. You felt like a fool having a kid parent you. Although the circles under your eyes did lessen.

But you reminded yourself he was just scared. He didn't want to lose anybody else. A strong desire to keep you safe after what happened with Kite. A mentality so similar to yours that you just couldn't get after him for it. If clinging onto you was what kept that dark aura at bay, then you’d just have to suck it up.

“I'm the one who's supposed to be telling you that. You're ten times as reckless.” You pointed out.

He pouted up at you, mouth opening for a rebuttal before you cut him off.

“And I better not catch you saying it's okay when you get hurt. Got it?”

He deflated. Wanting to add something but knowing you'd shut him down again. Luckily Killua was there to back him up. The fact that there were two of them always being used against you.

“But it's okay when you get hurt?” He questioned.

You scrambled for an answer. It was unfair how they ganged up on you sometimes. 

“None of us should be getting hurt if we can help it.” You settled on.

They seemed satisfied with your response, temporarily dropping the subject. It was only a matter of time before Gon perked up once more.

“Hey. Could you teach us that game you were talking about earlier?” He asked.

“I don't know. You've gotta have pretty sharp eyes to play.” You teased.

“Not too sharp considering you've got bags puffing up yours.” Killua joked.

“Hey!”

You dealt out the box of cards they'd brought. Using the opportunity to check in on them. Gon's aura was calm. Eerily so. You were worried the murkiness of his aura would rise to the surface any second. That it would consume him. You had a bad feeling about it. 

Killua’s was nervous, but determined. You'd never know he was tense by just looking at him, but his aura was plain as day. You hated to admit it, but his was the normal reaction you were expecting from both.

You briefly glanced over to the left. The men in front of you were apprehensive. About who, you couldn't really tell. The boys for both being ready? Not being strong enough? Or you being mentally unstable? Cracking under pressure because of a little blood? You'd all just have to wait and see.

You always hated the waiting game.

At least Knuckle and Shoot weren't scared of you anymore. Thanks to Morel putting in a good word for you. You’d almost say you enjoyed that old man’s company. It was nice to talk about everything for a change. Talk without fear of being judged. He didn't spill the secret of your identity to the rest, and you were immensely grateful. 

If things ended up working out after all, maybe you'd take him up on his offer to get some counseling. God knows you needed it after everything you've been through. For now, you would relish in the few hours you still had with your boys.

—---------------------------

You'd reached the city within two hours, stopping at a restaurant to stock up on food. It just so happened that a broadcast was playing. One that stated the ruler wanted everyone in Peijing to make their way to the palace. You didn't have a good feeling about it.

All those people in one place…it left plenty of room for disaster. Morel only confirmed your suspicions.

“Colt has a theory. He believes that the celebration will be used to sort the population.”

What was it that damn cat had called you? A Rare? The chimera ants seemed to be obsessed with those who possessed nen. They would most likely be eaten by the king or worse. You had a pretty good idea of what ‘worse’ was after seeing the state Kite was in. 

You didn't think ten days would be enough to save all those people. And unfortunately for them, they weren't a top priority. Everyone's focus would be on the king and his lackeys.  

There was also the issue of Netero’s whereabouts. He'd gone off on his own in East Gorteau without any backup. Telling Knov if he didn't respond today, he was most likely dead. Now while you weren't fond of the old man, you didn't want him dead. But knowing him, he was perfectly fine out there.

Ping

Right on schedule. Knov read the text on his phone before showing everyone else. His plan was to lure the royal guards away from the king starting at midnight. Great. Just great. Let your kids deal with one of those monsters. Though you knew they'd made enough progress to keep up. Netero made sure to include the ‘satellite ears’ comment from Morel as well.

“That old bastard scares the crap out of me.” He mumbled.

“Yeah? Well he irritates the hell out of me. Damn geezer always has something up his sleeve.” You added.

You beamed as the waiter served you a slice of cake. The duo next to trying to stifle their laughter at your reaction. The rest of the men at the table, however, eyed the tall pile of sweets on your plate with concern.

“That much can't be good for you.” Knuckle said, watching you scarf down another sweet.

You looked up for a brief moment. 

“Mind your business.” 

“Okay then.” He put his hands up in defense.

The hard ass who made a deal of being guarded, eating like a little kid with no dietary restrictions. It was baffling. Downing apple juice after apple juice. Cookie after cookie.

“Remember what we said. At least one real piece of food.” Gon scolded.

Giving out a small grumble, you took a bite out of your sandwich before continuing on.

—---------------------------------

All you could do was wait. You hated it. The rapid beating of your heart in anticipation. Bated breath as the seconds ticked down. Any moment now, Gon’s nen would return to him. He had done surprisingly well during training. The question now was how well he'd apply what he learned.

You could feel it, the exact moment the curse had been lifted. All at once his nen had surged through him. The little cat hovering over his shoulder was finally gone. He looked down at himself to confirm the aura around him.

“Well alright. It looks like you can use nen again. Go on, try it out.” Knuckle encouraged him.

Before he could try anything, Morel called out to him.

“Gon…”

The boy in green gave his full attention.

“Sorry, but I'm not convinced we should keep you around.”

A small feeling of protectiveness came over you. They make these kids train like hell only to go back on their word? You didn't think so. Although you hadn't wanted them here in the first place. But it was too late to turn back now.

“Show me your resolve,” He continued on, discarding his shirt to prepare for an attack.

“Pretend I'm the enemy who did all that to Kite.”

You could feel Gon’s aura shift into something darker. He really shouldn't have said that. The dark murkiness you've been trying to help keep at bay was slowly rising to the surface.

“If your attack isn't powerful enough, I'll call for a replacement hunter.” Morel was only adding fuel to the fire.

“A real attack?” Gon questioned.

You didn't have a good feeling about this. Kite was a sensitive subject. To use that as a means to provoke Gon… You knew damn well that kid could do damage just fine without nen. You didn't know what he was capable of with it. And it worried you. For his sake more than his opponent’s.

“Yes dammit! Give me everything you've got or you're off the team.” 

A steady anger, and then it was gone. Once again Gon's aura had been eerily calm. Approaching Morel slowly before responding.

“Got it.”

He stood still for a moment, then all at once a feeling of bloodlust consumed him. The intent to kill evident as the aura built in his fist. From the others, you could sense their shock. Their fear. You were in a similar boat.

For a split second, you were afraid. Trembling at the force of his power. For a second, you were reminded of him. The onslaught of ren that poured out. The malice. 

“Show me rock!”

It felt like you couldn't breathe. Killua, taking notice of your panicked state, went to calm down Gon. He was overdoing it, especially if it was scaring you. So he put a hand on Gon’s shoulder. The aura in his fist disappearing almost instantly.

“Gon, that's enough.”

You could breathe again. That was exactly what you were worried about. He was just a kid. You didn't want him to do something he'd regret. To have blood on his hands at such a young age. But there was only so much you could do.

“Am I right, old man?” Killua asked Morel.

The older man took a few deep breaths. Trying to calm the racing of his own heart. If that was Gon’s raw strength, there was no telling what he could do with your training. Good. They really needed an ace in their hole.

“...Yeah ..” He answered at last.

Gon seemed to snap out of the daze he was in. Jumping up in shock with his own actions. He turned around and offered Killua a ‘thanks’ for stopping him. He turned back to Morel and clasped his hands together in an apology.

“Sorry Mr. Morel! I really was just about to kill you!”

It felt like all the air in your body escaped from your lungs. That wasn't right. But Morel just laughed him off.

“You got me real good there kid!”

It felt all too similar to the way you grew up. Being praised for having no limits. You couldn't have been the only one who was worried. The only one who was scared he'd cross a line he couldn't come back from. You felt like you were going insane. 

Gon looked back over at you expecting your usual praise. Instead he was met with your somber expression. It was too close to the way you'd looked the last time you were in the NGL. He wonders if he scared you. The thought makes him feel icky inside.

He approaches you and hugs you as tight as he can. It's the only thing he can think to do. Whether it's to reassure him or you, he can't tell. 

“I didn't mean to. I know I'm not supposed to get that worked up. Not yet at least. I'm sorry.”

It takes you a second to respond. Trying to collect your thoughts after the intensity of that moment. Of what was surely to come.

“You're fine. Just, don't get too carried away.” You reassured. 

He relaxes at the feeling of you hugging him back.

But you didn't believe the words tumbling out of your mouth.

—---------------------------------

It wasn't hard for the three of you to infiltrate East Gorteau. In fact, it was almost too easy. Still, none of you could risk being caught. It didn't help there were so many people on the lookout for intruders.

You continued on to the meeting point, listening as Killua explained the situation to Gon. How the people here were just itching to rat each other out for some money.

“My older brother told me everything, and he probably heard it from grandpa.”

Killua didn't talk about his family often, and you couldn't blame him. But he seemed to respect his Grandfather. He spoke about him with something just shy of fondness. You were glad he had some family he could rely on. 

You stopped short near the ledge of a cliff. The three of you ducking down quickly.

“A town?” Gon questioned.

“Yeah a tiny one.” Killua confirmed.

You used your eyes to focus on the nearest homes. Empty. You used your en to scan for people next. Nothing. The town was completely abandoned.

“So what now?” Gon looked between you and Killua for a plan.

“We sneak in.” 

“No need. Everyone's gone.” You informed.

They knew better than to question your assessment. Your eyes were never wrong. So it was on to the next step of the plan: finding out just what the hell happened. 

“Stay here then. We'll investigate. You don't need to see anything you don't have to.” Killua instructed.

You gave a small nod. Freaking out over potential corpses was the last thing you needed. If you could stall seeing anything too gruesome, you'd have a better chance during the big fight. Or any fight for that matter.

You watched as the two of them disappeared into the town. Tracking their auras as they went. Gon peeked his head out and gestured for you to come over. You took cautious steps towards them. Knowing your luck you'd probably slip. 

“They've already begun sorting. Most of the people were already buried, and not very deep either. It was a good thing you hung back.” Killua explained.

Good to know you're original ten days was just wishful thinking. You couldn't help but feel bad for these people. No technology and no way to know what was going on in their country.

“They can't even call for help.” You said softly. 

“It's not all bad news,” Killua tried to comfort.

“If my theory is correct, it'll be easy to stop them. We just cause a commotion and the selection will totally stop.”

“In theory it'll be easy. But we have to be prepared for anything.” You warned.

Like counter measures for said commotions. If Pitou could control people, chances are the leader was under control too. His word was law here. There'd be no resistance if he suggested something under the ants' influence.

“Yeah but considering the amount of people the ants have to sort, there's no way they sent nen users to do it. It's most likely Pitou's ability. And if that's the case, this'll all be a sitch.” Killua explained.

“We just have to pop up, take out whoever's being controlled, and cause a panic. And after that. We'll encourage the people who escaped to go off and check on other nearby towns.”

It was a decent plan. The only issue was…Right as you were thinking it, the small assassin already had it covered.

“The problem is they'll detect us quickly. Once we make our move, they'll know. If we wanna go through with the old man’s plan, we should keep as low a profile as we possibly can.” 

You'd almost forgotten he was used to be stealthy. That he was in his element here in the dark and unsuspecting.

“It's your call.” He addressed you and Gon.

The boy in green agreeing almost immediately. Determination radiating off him. 

“Let's do it. If the selection has already begun, we can't just simply ignore it.”

The looked up at you for your answer. A damn shame how much you've changed in just one year. If this was still when you were on Greed Island, you would've told them to stick to the mission at hand. Lives at stake be damned. But you were different now. Softer. And the thoughts of self preservation you were used to having weren't present. Instead was the rational that you couldn't exactly let people die.

“If we go through with this, we've gotta be careful.” You responded at last.

“Alright, let's go!” Killua instructed before stopping in his tracks. He took a breath before facing you and Gon.

“But I'm gonna do it alone. You two stay hidden.”

“Stay hidden!!? But wouldn't it be better if we-” Gon started, but Killua had cut him off.

“Don't forget our primary mission. We have to take Pitou down. That should be your focus.” It had come out more defensive than he wanted. He swore he could feel your eyes focus in on him as the words left his mouth.

“You let me handle everything else, alright? I'll stir things up,” he said softer.

“And uh no offense, but this'll be a lot easier to do alone.”

“Like hell you'll do this alone!” You argued.

The last thing you wanted was to split up. It made it easier for the enemies to pick off one by one. Yet Killua wasn't budging on the subject. Resolve strong in his eyes when he spoke.

“Look I know you're used to doing this, but I'm sure there's more villages like the first one. The moment you freak out is the moment we lose a fighter. Maybe if you weren't…” He stopped himself, trying to phrase what he was gonna say right.

If you weren't so traumatized by blood, you'd be more useful. He'd never say something like that to you again. Or, he'd try his damn best not to.

“If things were different you'd be able to help me fully. But you're our best bet at scouting and Gon’s our strongest fighter. So… just sit this one out. The both of you.” 

You could sense his worry. It made you faulter for a second.

“Yeah, I get it.” Gon said, knowing you and him would just get in Killua’s way. 

“Do you?” The small assassin questioned.

“Huh?” He did a double take at his best friend's words.

“Do you really think you get it?”

“Killua?”

“Then promise me something!” It was a plea. Looking between you and Gon quickly.

“Both of you! Don't make a move! Even if people are killed right in front of you! Promise me!”

He remembered the way you two had reacted at the factory. You'd both lunged forward when those people were killed. Only being stopped by Kite’s quick thinking. He didn't want the same thing happening again. 

You could sense his panic rise. A desperation to keep you two safe at all costs. He was almost begging for you two not to do anything. What the hell was the association putting these kids through? What would they go through before the end of the ten days?

Gon didn't answer. You didn't think he could. As much as he loved Killua, he had his morals. He was a stubborn kid who wouldn't go back on them either. So you answered instead. You could abide by Killua’s conditions if he could abide by yours.

“Sure I'll promise you. As long as you promise me you'll come back no matter what. If there's an enemy stronger than you, you'll run.” 

It was like you were in a standoff. His resolve waivered in the presence of yours. He was tired of running away from fights, and you knew that. Then there was the matter of him coming back. He didn't know what to expect out there. He couldn't promise you what he couldn't guarantee. And he couldn't force you and Gon to do the same. 

His resolve crumbled, giving in to yours. 

“I'll text you okay? Our cell phones should still work in the area.” He tried to diffuse, but you wouldn't let him off the hook that easily.

“You can't just change the subject.”

There was a small amount of guilt radiating off him. But there was still the worry from earlier. 

“I know. I'm Sorry. Don't worry about it. I'm just a little on edge.” He explained.

The mission was already taking its toll on both boys. They shouldn't have the weight of the world on their shoulders at such a young age. You'd curse the association to your dying breath. When this was over, you'd all need some counseling. 

You offered up what you hoped was a reassuring smile.

“It's okay to be scared and worried. I know I am. But we help each other. It's the only way we can get through this. You know that right?”

You could feel him start to relax, steadily gaining back his resolve.

“I know.” He responded.

Gon put his hand on his shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze.

“If anything goes wrong, we'll be there to help you.” He added. 

It felt like Killua was engulfed in warmth. Like you all weren't about to march to your potential deaths. It was why he was so scared of losing you both. But he had to have faith in your abilities. Trust that you could get the job done and make it back. 

“Right. I've got your backs too!”

The three of you continued to walk for a while, but something felt off. It felt like something was watching you. The unmistakable sensation of eyes on your back. Then for a split second, you sensed a presence.

Someone was following you. The aura wasn't malicious from what you could tell. Just cautious. Like they were scoping you out. The presence would appear and disappear at one minute intervals. It was probably some sort of nen ability. 

You didn't want to leave the boys by themselves, but you couldn't risk either of them getting hurt right now. You had to be smart about this. 

“Hey, you two go on ahead.” You called out.

“Is something wrong?” Gon asked.

You made sure to keep talking while you signed slowly.

‘Enemy behind.’

“I just need to check something out. It won't take me long.”

The duo nodded in understanding. Never had you been prouder to see them sign ‘safe.’ Slow and meticulous, but the word all the same. You were glad you were able to teach them something useful. 

They took off without you, leaving you to deal with who was following. He'd show himself every minute. All you had to do was wait him out.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

You summoned a strand of nen and shot it straight behind you. There was a noise of surprise as it wrapped completely around the enemy. You tugged them close to you, turning around to face your stalker.

“You know I'm too fond of being followed.”

Your tone was cold as you stared down the chameleon chimera ant. He shook in your presence. Eyes wide at the fact you'd caught him. He'd wanted to continue following one of the boys. This was not good.

“You better have a damn good reason or you're dead.”

He tried to formulate a sentence. Tried to speak, but your resolve was suffocating. Your eyes looked at him like he was nothing. All that came out of his mouth was-

“How did you-!”

But you'd cut him off by tightening your nen around his neck.

“The next words out of your mouth better be an answer. I don't have time for games.”

He panicked, blurting out the first thing he could think of to get him out of trouble.

“I want to defeat the king!”

Your intimidating expression changing into one of confusion.

“What?”

He could feel your nen weaken around him. That was a good sign. He continued to talk, believing more in his chances of convincing you.

“He's a monster. He killed and ate his own men when he was born. He needs to be stopped.” Meleleron explained.

“I thought I'd watch the three of you. See if you were strong enough for the task before I asked for help. I wasn't trying to attack you.”

Your eyes scanned him for any deceit. There was none. All you could sense was determination and fear. Scared of you, yet still wanting to complete his goal. You let him go, releasing your nen.

“Okay.”

“Okay!?! Just like that? You're not gonna interrogate me?” He pushed, unbelieving it was that easy.

“I can see when someone's lying to me. Don't worry, I'd know if you were trying to lure me into a trap.”

It was a thinly veiled threat. One that promised his death if he betrayed you. He'd take it. If you could see when he was being genuine, it only worked in his favor.

“Okay. Where to begin…”

He explained to the situation at hand. How his father figure was eaten by the king. How few ants stayed by the king’s side while the rest left to create their own castles. His plan for catching him off guard. Using his ability to become invisible before attacking. How he needed someone strong enough to carry out the plan. 

“Your best bet is Gon. He's most likely to listen to you. Killua would kill you on the spot.” You said.

“Why can't you help me? You're fast. We'd be able to take the king completely off guard.”

You shook your head. Despite how it looked like, you knew you weren't the best person for the job. Call it a hunch.

“I'm not a fighter. And I've got a personal fight I need to be ready for. I also choke up. Can't stand the sight of blood. Gon’s your best bet. I'm sure he's stronger than me now anyways.”

And Killua was faster. They'd done well in their respective categories. You just hoped it'd be enough. You looked Meleoron head on. 

“Test him if you want…but if you go too far I'll make you suffer.” You warned.

You cared about those boys. It was easy for him to see. As long as you were vouching for the boy in green, he'd take up the offer, and he'd do his damn best not to rough him up too much.

“Right. I'll get going. Thank you for trusting me.”

He took off without a second glance. You were once again on your own. You decided to try and make your way towards the palace. If nothing else, you could take out a few of Pitou's puppets. 

You set a steady pace. Slowing your heart rate little by little. If the ants sensed you now, you'd come off as nothing more than a small animal. They wouldn't recognize you as human. For all the shit your clan put you through, they taught you some pretty helpful tricks. 

Things seemed to be going well before you sensed it. Another presence following you. They weren't concealing themselves either. In fact, they were right above you. You looked up and we're met with a familiar ant. The same one that tried to ambush you the night everything went to shit.

It seemed to recognize you too. Owlish eyes widening before it tried to fly away. So much for going undetected. You gave chase, following directly under it.

“I'm not gonna let you get away!” You shouted, preparing to restrain it.

Right as you were about to summon your nen, a fist made harsh contact on your face. You skidded to the side from the force.

You'd been so distracted, you didn't sense the other ant. You'd fallen for that damn owl’s trap. You braced your legs, looking up at your assailant. A cheetah ant. It beamed at you, sharp teeth on full display.

“I was looking for a meal. Thank you for volunteering!” 

You were really starting to hate cats. You watched the owl ant make its escape. It was most likely gathering information on everybody's abilities. How you all fought. He was a problem. You didn't have time to deal with this new ant.

Judging by his cocky aura, he wouldn't be much of a challenge anyways. He was weak. The only reason he got a hit on you was because you weren't paying attention. 

“You're a Rare, aren't you? This'll be so much fun! Try not to die too early, okay?”

You dodged as he went to strike again, claws fully outstretched. He glared at you. It was then you noticed the small being floating by his side. That was Knuckle’s ability. So this was the ant that got away? You could see why he'd give the others trouble.

But he wouldn't be able to beat you.

“Lucky guess, but you won't be able to dodge my next attack. You humans have got nothing on my speed!”

He rushed towards you once more. Right before he could make contact, you grabbed his wrist. A cruel grin on your face.

“Fast?” You questioned.

He tried to pull back, but your grip was unrelenting. 

“Let go of me!”

He used his free hand to try and slash your face. You caught it too, applying pressure to his wrist. He caught your eyes and froze. You almost looked amused. It made him feel something he'd never felt before. Fear. 

You looked at Cheetu like you knew something he didn't. You weren't afraid of dying. No… You didn't think he could kill you. And then you spoke. Something in your voice had a shiver running down his spine.

“You're so pathetic I might just laugh. Oh you poor creature. You don't even know what speed is. Here, let me show you!”

The grip on his wrist vanished, as did you. His eyes unable to track where you went. He could smell it on you now. The blood imbedded in your scent. You were like them. A monster like the royal guards. 

He shook the thought from his head. A strong Rare? Yeah right. You were nothing compared to him. A slow weakling. He had no reason to be so shaken up by you. It was just an empty threat made to make him lose his cool. He'd kill you in no time.

“Henry, attack!”

It happened so suddenly. One minute he was standing, about to track your scent and put an end to you. The next, his head was rolling on the ground. On his shoulders was a small jester marionette. Its hand morphed into a blade.

Your shoes came into his vision. His eyes trailed up to meet yours in disbelief.

“It can't be! What the hell are you!?!” He shouted.

You couldn't have been that fast. You were a human! 

“Someone who doesn't have time for your insolence. I'm done wasting time on you,” you answered.

You snapped your fingers, signaling for your puppet to finish the job. You looked away as it jumped up, using as much force as possible to slam into the ant’s skull. You could feel the blood splatter onto your clothes. You thought you would have grown used to the sight of blue blood. 

You were wrong. 

Shaking as the warmth seeped into your clothes. The feeling of vile scratching at your throat. You shook your head, preparing to make your way to the meeting point once more.

When you got there, you waited for Knov to open up the portal. You fell into the small room, still trembling from earlier. Everyone was here except Gon and Killua. Your heart beat even faster in your chest.

“You okay?” Morel asked, noticing your dazed state.

“Change of clothes. Now.” You ordered.

You don't remember who tossed you your bag of clothes, but you were grateful all the same. Throwing your bloodied clothes the furthest you could from you as you changed. You hugged yourself to try and calm down. Taking in shaky breaths.

There was no blood on you, and still you felt dirty. You hated being so weak in front of others. But all you could think about was your boys. Killua running from town to town and Gon doing who knows what out there.

“You good kid?” Morel asked once more.

You nodded your head slowly.

“I'll be fine. I just need a minute. I managed to get rid of the ant Knuckle fought.” You informed.

“You got rid of Cheetu? That's awesome! Thanks a lot!” Knuckle said, patting you on the back.

“Mhm.”

You flinched slightly at the gesture, which was immediately picked up by the older man in the room. 

“Give them some space for a while.” He instructed Knuckle before addressing you.

“We still have plenty of time before the selection. You can recoup for a while.”

You gave a small nod. You just hoped your boys were okay.

—---------------------------------

Gon stared down the chameleon ant before him. Its hands were raised in defense as it spoke.

“I've been watching you for a while now. I didn't plan on showing myself so soon, but things changed. Safe to say, you surpassed my expectations.” He explained.

Gon was about to let his guard down when he remembers something. You said somebody was following the three of you. And you'd gone to check it out. This thing was capable of concealing its presence. 

It was the same ant.

He released an angry ten in an instant. Summoning as much nen as he could into his fist.

“What did you do to Y/n!”

Meleoron couldn't help but freeze. Twice now his life had been threatened. And you'd said this kid would be more likely to hear him out. Look how that was turning out.

“Nothing! I swear!” He pleaded. 

Gon glared at him, unbelieving that he hadn't done something to you.

“If you hurt them, I'll kill you!”

He was more quick to aggression here. More on edge than he'd ever been. Especially when it concerned you and Killua. Right as he was about to strike, the ant blurted out the first thing he could think of.

“We're friends! They caught me following them, and I explained myself. They gave me the go ahead to ask for your help. If you think I could take them in a fight, you're severely overstimulating my abilities!”

All at once Gon’s aura dissipated. His guard was still up, but he was less hostile.

“You promise they're fine?” He asked.

“Swear on my life. You can call them.”

He relaxed completely at the confirmation.

“I believe you.”

“Just like that!?!?” The ant exclaimed, once again caught by surprise at how easy it was to convince one of you.

Now that Gon was thinking about it, he may have overreacted. You weren't weak. And you were quick enough to get out of any trouble. You were fine, he was sure of it. 

“Well yeah. Y/n would never be beaten by you. And if you did hurt them…Then I won't have to show you any mercy. I could just kill you, you know?” He responded.

The look in his eye was very reminiscent of yours. Cold with the intent to follow through. But it quickly softened up.

“I just worry about them. I know they're strong, but it's different here.” 

Pitou’s here. 

He didn't want to lose you the same way he'd lost Kite. He promised himself he'd do anything to stop that from happening.

“Man. You two are scary when you're mad.” Meleleron mumbled under his breath.

—-----------------------------------

Your head perked up at the sound of someone entering the room. You weren't as frazzled as before. Directing your attention to the person in the hopes it was one of the boys.

Your eyes landed on Gon first, then on Meleoron. You let out a sigh of relief.

“Oh? You met the lizard guy. Good.”

“Mhm. He told me you two were friends. I'm so proud of you!” Gon praised.

You weren't the best around people. So to see you made a friend on your own, he was happy for you. But you looked confused by the statement. Face scrunching up.

“Easy. I told him I trusted him. The friends thing is an overstatement.” You explained.

“Well he was gonna kill me if I didn't say I knew you!” Meleoron argued.

“It's your fault for following him.”

“You told me to!!!! Gah! I don't like you at all.” He pointed an accusing finger at you. 

Against your better judgement, you almost laughed. But then you remembered you were still missing your other kid. 

“Killua isn't with you?” You asked.

Gon shook his head.

“We spit up after you left.”

Damn. You didn't have a good feeling about this. Especially with that scout ant still out there. The entire room seemed to go quiet at the information. Killua was the only one missing. And he usually stuck very closely to the plan.

“Do you think…?” Shoot started.

An uncomfortable feeling churned in your gut.

“Let's give him another hour. Besides, we still have a few days left. We can afford to give him that much time.” Morel tried to comfort.

Sensing your distress, Gon sat next to you. He put his head on your shoulder. You could feel worry in his aura, try as he might not to show it. Yet you could tell he was still hopeful Killua would be back.

“Killua will be fine. He won't be beaten so easily.” He assured.

You wanted to believe him, but you couldn't just sit back and do nothing. You summoned half of your nen into your palm. Conjuring a small figure. The ballerina marionette looked up at you, awaiting its orders.

“Find Killua. Return to me in two days if you can't.”

It gave a salute before taking off. 

Your lucky day. 

More waiting.

—--------------------------

Killua felt his body giving out. He'd lost too much blood. He knew he did, collapsing into a puddle of it. A small smile made its way to his face. You probably would have passed out seeing this much. Probably scold him for getting hurt too. He was just glad it was him instead of you.

‘Promise me you'll come back no matter what.’

He blinked slowly. Imagine if he'd made that promise? He would have broken it, and you were never supposed to break a promise to a friend. 

“Sorry, Y/n. I know how you feel about losing another kid. But it's not your fault this time.”

He spoke out into the abyss with the last of his strength. He knew you'd put this on your shoulders. You always did when something went wrong. So much guilt on your conscience.

“It wasn't your fault the first time either.”

He didn't want to add into your trauma, but he could feel himself fading. He wished you could've met Alluka. She would've loved you. And he knows you would've loved to have a little sister again.

He was so grateful he got to meet you. To have someone like you who saw his worth past his assassin potential. He wanted you to be happy. He wanted you to heal. 

“I love you.” 

He thinks he might've traded his own mother and father if it meant he'd get to bask in your warmth again.

He was grateful for Gon too. For him always being on his side. Seeing nothing but the good in him. His first real friend. He didn't want to leave him either.

“Gon…Please take care of them. They're gonna need you. I'm sorry…I wasn't…any help.”

His body felt cold. He didn't have any strength to push himself up. You wouldn't miss him that much anyways. As long as you had Gon, you'd be fine. You seemed to love him more anyways. He tried to console himself with the thought. Although a part of him knew it wasn't true.

He saw a pair of small feet enter his spotty vision. He heard a piercing shriek. And then darkness.

He awoke to the feeling of something on his chest. He was surprised to wake up at all. He opened his eyes slowly, adjusting to the sudden brightness. He made out the small figure sitting on him.

What was your puppet doing here? 

“Hey Shika. Y/n sent you after me, huh?” He greeted with a smile.

It nodded. 

He doesn't know why it made him so happy. That you cared.

“The little thing didn't leave your side the entire time you were out.” A familiar voice spoke. 

He directed his vision to the side. It was that octopus ant. Ikalgo? He must've been the one that saved him. Now that he thinks about it, he faintly remembered the feeling of being carried.

“How long was I out for?” he asked.

“Three days.”

“TWO DAYS! THEY'RE GONNA KILL ME!”

He took out the IVs from his arms. Getting up as fast as he could to make his way over to you and Gon. You were gonna be so pissed at him.

—--------------------------------------

Shika was still gone. That was a good thing, it meant she found Killua. It meant he was alive out there. It was the only thing that brought you comfort while you waited. 

You glanced over at Knov. He was…well he was mentally fucked. He fell apart at just a glimpse of Pitou's en. You didn't blame him. You'd freaked out too the first time you felt it. But now was not the time. It was one fighter down. 

And then there was Palm. You hadn't heard a word from her. She should've said something by now. Despite getting off on the wrong foot, you'd grown fond of her. You couldn't imagine the weight on her shoulders right now. They'd thrown her right into the lion’s den.

Then there was the matter of how she'd take Knov’s breakdown. The man she loved was physically aging from his fear. Chances are it wouldn't go over well. 

You felt Gon tug on your sleeve. You redirected your attention to him, watching as he pointed up. The portal opened and in finally came Killua.

Thank god.

“Killua!” Gon called out before tackling him in a hug.

He gave out a noise of surprise as he stumbled back. He rebounded quickly, however, and returned the boy in green’s enthusiasm.

“See? I made it out just fine.”

Fine? He was covered in bandages. Just what the hell happened to him. Did you really want to know? You decided it didn't matter, walking towards him slowly.

You were close enough for him to try and make out your expression. You looked drained.

“Are you mad at me?” He asked.

He was caught off guard when you crouched down and pulled him into a hug, cradling his head tightly.

“Don't you ever do that again.”

He could feel you shaking. He didn't mean to make you worry. But despite everything, he couldn't help but smile. You really did care about him. And it's not like peaceful moments like these would last. So he took it all in. Hugging you back tightly.

“I promise I won't. I've got you to protect me, remember?” He tried to lighten the mood, yet you hugged him tighter.

“My precious baby. I was so scared.”

Was it weird he felt like crying? Being loved was such a strange feeling. He thinks his mom would've blown a fuse seeing you coddle him. He doesn't care. Not one bit as you continued to hug him.

You looked over his shoulder, catching the gaze of another chimera ant. This one being an octopus.

“You made a friend?” You asked, hesitantly releasing him.

He couldn't hide his embarrassment when you let him go. Not wanting the other hunters to see him being soft.

“Yeah. He's pretty cool. Just don't call him an octopus.” He responded.

You stood up to your full height, staring down this new ant with scrutiny.

“You give my kid any problems, Squidward?”

He gaped at you. Eyes wide in shock 

“Did…did you just call me squid!?!!”

He turned towards Killua with stars in his eyes.

“Killua I love your big sibling!”

That was unexpected.

Killua stood in front of you protectively.

“You better not! They already have a partner!”

You slapped a hand to your forehead.

“You're such a gremlin. Now you,” you pointed towards the octopus ant.

“Answer the question.”

He stood unwavering in your presence. You were surprised to see a surge of loyalty in his aura.

“I would die if it meant helping Killua out.”

His resolve was strong. 

Geez, these kids had a habit for picking up strange friends. Although you couldn't complain. You needed all the help you could get.

“Well that settles it.” You approved.

Killua high fived him, introducing Ikalgo to Gon while he introduced Meleoron. It filled you with warmth to see your boys back together again. Yet you couldn't get past this gnawing feeling in your gut. The one you always got when something was about to happen. 

It was foreboding.

Over the next three days, you went over the plan. You, Killua, and Gon would take on Pitou. Knuckle, Meleoron, and Shoot would take Youpi. Morel would have to deal with Pouf by himself. Ikalgo was tasked with finding Palm. Something you wouldn't admit had you letting out a sigh of relief.

Waiting, waiting, waiting.

It was all you could do while the others plotted for what could go wrong. You don't remember if you've ever been this anxious, your leg bouncing up and down. 

Pitou had healing abilities, or at least you think they did. But what if that wasn't enough to fix Kite? What if he was beyond fixing? Was there any other way you could bring him back? 

You hated how everything was building up. This feeling of dread. Moving from one location to the other. Getting closer and closer to the castle. To your potential doom. It had you chewing on your lip next. Biting at the skin there until it was raw.

Five minutes until midnight.

You decided to ask what was weighing so heavily on your mind.

“What are the other two guards’ abilities?”

Meleoron and Ikalgo looked at each other in thought. The octopus spoke first.

“Pouf has this weird ability. He can give someone a completely different nen type. If there's a specific ability they want, he can grant it.” He explained.

Not good. Was that why there were still so many ants loyal to the king? The chance of becoming more powerful calling to them like a moth to the flame. 

“That's not all. The way he goes about it…It's like the ant was reborn,” Meleoron added.

“He wraps them in a cocoon. Depending on how much was changed, it could take a few hours or a few days before the ant emerges again. It's how they plan to make soldiers out of all the people sorted.”

You felt a flicker of hope. Maybe…Maybe you could substitute it. You just had to be quick. One wrong move and you were dead. You'd be at half power, but it would be worth a shot.

Okay. You had a back up. It helped soothe your nerves a bit. Not enough to get rid of the dread you were feeling.

What was in store for you?

“One minute!” Morel called out.

You tensed as you got up. Everyone around you prepared for battle. You could feel everyone's nerves. Their resolve. Whatever happened now, it would be out of your control. You spared a glance towards Gon and Killua one last time.

You'd protect them no matter what. Even if you had to break your promise to Kari. 

You waited as the last ten seconds ticked down. It was then you finally realized what was wrong. You started shaking. The malicious aura buried so deep inside Gon had consumed him completely. 

“GO!!!!” Morel shouted.

At his command, all of you made a break for it out the door. There was nothing you could do right now. You had to get through this first hurdle first.

What was this power?

Never mind the red beasts on the steps. What was this raw power? No intent to kill, but so overpowering you almost faltered. The building shook from the force. 

Youpi, you presumed, morphed his body to attack. So much happened in just one second. Morel’s smoke screen. The building caving away to golden streaks of nen. Knuckle getting in the first hit. 

You continued running, going right in front of the boys as a precaution. ‘Get past the steps.’ you repeated in your head. Keep going. You could look back later. 

You were fighting with yourself not to let your en scan around you. You couldn't risk letting it clash with another royal guard’s. If you did, you were all screwed. You couldn't even check to see if the boys were still behind you.

All at once, Youpi smashed the steps behind you. You could feel the ground give way slightly, yet still you pushed on. The stairs didn't matter. As long as the boys were okay. 

You relaxed slightly hearing their footfalls behind you. Two pairs of footsteps. Then one. You froze, watching Gon breeze past you without a second thought. You looked back to see Killua running in the opposite direction. Your eyes catching Ikalgo’s aura.

Thinking on your feet, you sent one of your puppets after Killua. You didn't waste a second chasing after Gon. He needed you more right now. He wasn't thinking rationally. If there was one thing you knew about Killua, it was that he kept a level head. Half of your nen should be enough to help him. 

You continued to make your way outside. Eyes widening seeing Morel’s ability. If he was there, then the king was somewhere else entirely. Gon, having noticed the same thing, took off in another direction. And just before you could enter another building, he stopped short. Body tensing.

You followed his gaze.

You didn't believe what you were seeing. The amount of power swirling around some sort of ant. No, it wasn't just some ant. It had to be the king. His aura radiated acceptance. He wasn't angry or malicious. Not a trace of bloodlust. He held himself high without any worry.

Even if you were at full power, even if you were in your prime…You could never take him on. No one from your former clan could. For the first time since you were seven, you felt lesser. Insignificant in this thing’s presence. 

Was that Netero?

He saw you and Gon, gesturing behind himself with a grin. One that said they're all yours. 

That stupid old bastard!

That fucking idiot!

You were swept away in a surge of furious, vengeful aura. So incredibly dark and full of malintent you had to take a step away. The feeling was suffocating. Undeniably, it felt evil.

You wanted to snap him out of it. You wanted to see her in his eyes. But he was getting closer and closer to the edge of no return. That old geezer shouldn't have goaded him on. Morel shouldn't have pushed him earlier. 

What could you do? 

You couldn't tell him not to fight. This was personal. And he'd only double down if you tried. Knock him out maybe? He'd never forgive you for it, but you were running out of options. All you knew was as of right now, Pitou couldn't be killed.

They needed to be alive to fix Kite. 

“Gon! Y/n!” Killua called out.

You forced yourself to turn around, seeing Henry sitting on his shoulder before he transferred back to you. Your nen whole once again.

He frowned seeing your shaken up state. Then his eyes landed on his grandfather. He took in the situation fully. Netero and his grandfather had the King. Which meant…Pitou was in the tower.

He wanted to open his mouth to scold you for using your ability. Tell you not to waste it on making sure he was okay. But the sound of Gon’s voice made him freeze. Like you, he could feel something wasn't right. 

“Pitou is right over there.” Never had Gon’s tone been this cold.

How could the sun be hiding so much darkness?

“Let's go,” He ordered.

Killua stayed behind as Gon continued on his way. He could feel his eyes watering. His lip trembling. He wanted to ask why. What exactly was Gon asking of him? He didn't want to believe that he…

“It's gonna be okay, Killua. I promise you.” Your voice snapped him from his thoughts.

You reached down to swipe away his tears. He allowed himself to break in front of you, if only for a moment.

“But he's never… he's never spoken like that before. Like we weren't friends. How am I supposed to ignore that?” He sobbed, wrapping his arms around you in an attempt to seek out comfort.

He didn't know what you could do, but he wanted you to do something. He wanted you to get Gon back to normal. He always listened to you. 

“You don't. I don't want to tell you to push your feelings down, but we have to wait until this is over to talk to him.” You tried to reassure.

“He's hurting real bad right now. Whether he knows it or not, he needs our support right now.”

You pulled back to stare him in the eye.

“Please, stay strong a little longer for me.”

He nodded feebly, wiping at the snot and tears on his face. If you said things would be okay, he believed you. He composed himself the best he could. Grabbing at your hand like a child as you followed after Gon.

He was surprised to see his Grandfather still there.

“Hey there.” The old man greeted.

Your protective aura immediately wrapped around both boys. Zeno raised a brow at that. His eyes trailing down to where Killua was still clasping your hand tightly. He got it now.

So that was why he changed so much. Why he stood a little taller now. It should've made the boy weak, your care towards him. Instead, it'd made him stronger. No use dwelling on it. He did what he came here to do.

“If you'll excuse me, my job here is done. I know nothing beyond the mission I was given.”

The words were ominous. The feeling of dread only amplifying. 

“Killua, when you get inside, you make the call.” The old man prompted. 

“Make the call?” Killua said, confused by the implications of his grandfather’s words. 

He said nothing else, leaving the three of you alone. 

You didn't know what you were expecting. Perhaps for the manic aura you'd encountered that night to be full force. You couldn't possibly have predicted the sight in front of you. You didn't want to believe it either. After everything that cat ant put you through…After what they put Kite through…

Pitou was healing a girl. 

All their aura gone and placed into the nurse-like creature next to them. Putting all their focus into making sure the girl was okay. It made your stomach churn uncomfortably. You could see it in their aura. Pitou had changed. You didn't think the bloodthirsty creature could. Couldn't fathom the newfound humanity they'd gained.

They deserved to suffer.

They tried to kill you.

And yet you were willing to reach a compromise.

Something must've been fucked in your head to feel a shred of sympathy for this thing. Pitou turned around slowly to face the three of you. A protective fear radiating off them. It was ironic. So many people had died at the hands of this creature, and yet it was putting everything on the line for one girl. What could've caused this?

Gon's malicious aura spiked. It had you trembling.

“Do you remember who I am.” He said lowly.

His demeanor reminded you of Father. You didn't know how to bring him back in. You were scared to try.

“My name is Gon Freecs! And I came here for one reason! To make you restore Kite!” 

His voice felt like it was rumbling off the walls. Pitou kneeled protectively in front of the girl. It looked like…A bear protecting its cub.

You hated this thing. Hated how the situation reminded you of your own. So much going on at once, you struggled to find one thing to focus on. You couldn't think with the outpour of Gon’s menacing aura. 

His eyes looked between Pitou and the girl. Hands clenching in a searing anger. His output increasing that much more.

“Get away from her. Now.” He demanded.

Pitou was still. The panic in their aura rising. Gon stalked towards them. You tried to force your feet after him, but you couldn't move. 

“I said step away from her. And take that monster with you.” He glared at Pitou's ability.

He probably thought they were hurting the girl. But the more rational part of your brain new better. He didn't want the girl getting in his way. This wasn't the Gon you knew and loved. This wasn't the same kid who thought with his heart first. 

“I came here so I could make Kite whole again! So come and fight me!” He shouted.

Pitou immediately placed their hands on the floor. Palms up as a show of submission. It temporarily shocked Gon into letting up on his ren. You were in a similar state of disbelief.

How the hell could so much change in such a short time? 

“Please. Just wait a while.” Their voice was shaky. Pleading for the chance to fix that girl.

But the anger that had been bottled up for months needed an outlet. Gon needed to lash out. Anything that would alleviate the grief and guilt in his chest. He was blind to anything else. Murky aura amplifying tenfold by the humanity Pitou displayed.

“ARE YOU KIDDING! WHY THE HELL SHOULD I WAIT FOR YOU!?! GET UP! WE'RE GOING OUTSIDE!”

He planned on killing them. You couldn't let him. No matter how upset he was. If Pitou died, the plan was over. Kite would be gone forever. So why the hell weren't you speaking up? Why was your voice caught in your throat? 

Gon approached closer to Pitou. 

“I'LL DO ANYTHING!” They pleaded in a last ditch effort to keep him away.

“I'll do anything you want me to do! But you have to wait. Because I…I have to save this person no matter the cost!”

Never had you felt so sick to your stomach. If only this change had come to Pitou sooner. Or perhaps it'd been better if it didn't happen at all.

“Save? What do you mean by save, huh?” Gon questioned.

One wrong word and he'd snap. Killua quickly tried to take over the situation.

“Anything? You say that you'll do anything?” He asked the ant, knowing this might've been your in to save Kite.

But Gon was too far gone by now.

“Killua. I'm asking the questions here.” He snapped.

You could feel his heart break at Gon's words. See the wobble of his lip as he tried to formulate a response. You'd had enough of this.

“You're acting like a brute!” At last you had found your voice. 

Your feet felt like lead as you walked forward. Gon tensed slightly at your voice.

“They don't want to fight. For whatever reason, they're taking care of that girl. If you can't think with a level head, then you need to leave.” You were at your limit.

You hoped he'd find some clarity in your words. But it felt as if he'd directed his anger towards you. 

“I… I remember you.” Pitou spoke up.

They remember you shoving the other human away to save him. They remembered you moving fast. How you ran off with two smaller humans. The feeling of slicing through your flesh. 

“I'm sorry for what I did.” they apologized.

If anything, they were grateful for your presence now. The boy was listening to you. He was letting you speak. Pitou opted for appealing to your humanity instead. Their best bet at keeping Komugi safe was you.

“This girl is…precious to someone I really care about. More than you could possibly know,” they began to explain.

“Because of her, the king became who he is today. If she ceases to exist, the king will cease to be who he is. She means that much.” They searched your eyes for a glimmer of sympathy.

When they found it, they pleaded harder. Doing their best to ignore the ever darkening aura of the boy next to you.

“So all I want…Is for her to live. I beg you to let me heal her. And then I'll do anything you ask of me. So please just wait!” 

Despite their words being directed at you, they were out in the open for the wrong person to hear. Gon took a step forward, and Pitou started to tremble once more.

“You want to save her life?” The question hung in the air, disbelief evident in his tone.

“You're telling me that you really want to save this girl's life?”

Everything poured out all at once. Gon started hyperventilating, pointing an accusing finger in their direction.

“HOW DARE YOU!”

Your senses were swarmed by anger and hate. Grief and malice. Denial and vengeance. You took a step back. You wanted it to stop. Arms wrapping around yourself in an attempt to protect yourself from everything negative combined.

“DAMN IT! WHY YOU! WHY SHOULD I WAIT!?! WHY SHOULD I DO ANYTHING YOU SAY!?!” 

He stalked forward with the intent to kill. You couldn't stop him. 

“Gon, just wait a second!” Killua called out.

“Look. That girl's really hurt. Probably because of us and grandpa's Dragon Dive.”

He stopped walking. Never had he sounded so cruel. So uncaring about another life.

“And?” Like he didn't see the problem with advancing forward.

“And? Pitou's likely healing her. Well, that's what it looks like anyway. So hold off. Wait until it's done.” It was the last attempt to get him to come to his senses.

“Likely? Probably?” Gon said the words like they were poison in his mouth.

“You want me to wait because of that!?! Even if we did wait, there's no way we can guarantee Pitou will follow through on that promise!” 

He'd completely snapped. Aura unrelenting as it poured out in an endless fountain.

“Probably!?! Likely!?! For real!?? The hell with that!”

He turned around to berate his best friend.

“QUIT MESSING AROUND! WHAT THE HELL'S THE MATTER WITH YOU!?!”

Your fingers dug into your skin before releasing. Your hands clenching by your side. Shaking from the pressure. This wasn't your kid.

He needed to stop.

You needed to protect yourself from him.

“YOU WANT- YOU WANT ME TO TRUST THIS THING!?! SERIOUSLY!?! BECAUSE THERE'S NO WAY IN HELL-!”

SLAP

The sound of your palm hitting him reverberated throughout the room. The force of it sending him to the floor. Gon looked up at you in shock. 

You realized your mistake too late. Disgust consuming your entire being. You didn't mean- You didn't want to do that! How could you ever hit your own kid? You deserved to die. Your eyes were burning with tears. Entire body shaking in repulsion.

He looked up at you heartbroken. The expression mixing in with betrayal. 

You just wanted him to stop.

You didn't want to hurt him.

You'd been pushed to a breaking point you didn't think you could come back from. The tension on your shoulders making you double down. He'd been behaving like them. But so had you.

“HOW DARE YOU SPEAK LIKE THAT IN MY PRESENCE! WE HAVE A JOB TO DO! DON'T LET YOUR UNCHECKED EMOTIONS RUIN IT! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME!”

You were a monster. How far would you descend into madness by the end of the night? How far would you keep going? 

You were breathing heavily, trying to keep your composure. But seeing the red swell on his cheek made you want to grovel for forgiveness. 

You could feel his hurt increase. Watching him lift a hand to his cheek and wince at the sting. A scowl overtook his features. Angry tears beginning to run down his face.

“IT’S NOT FAIR! WHY?!? WHY ARE YOU TAKING THEIR SIDE!?! AFTER EVERYTHING THEY DID TO KITE!?! AND YOU WANT TO LET THEM LIVE!?! WHY!?! DAMNIT TELL ME!!!!”

“IF YOU WOULD STOP BEING SELFISH FOR ONE SECOND, YOU'D SEE THE BIGGER PICTURE!” You shouted back.

“IF WE KILL PITOU, WE'D NEVER BE ABLE TO BRING KITE BACK! YOU'D THROW AWAY OUR ONLY OPPORTUNITY! QUIT ACTING LIKE A LITTLE KID!”

He went silent. His murky aura retreating back to him. Yet his anger was still very much present. It gave you hope, of only for a moment. Then he spoke, voice unwavering and cold.

“I hate you. You're nothing but a pathetic coward who can't even hold their own.”

And then he said something he hoped hurt you. Not caring about the repercussions it would bring.

“It's no wonder your sister died.”

Your hands clenched. Your own angry aura lashing out. Don't do it. You disgrace. Don't do it. You knew he wanted a reaction from you. You weren't about to give it to him.

You slammed your fist into the wall, crumbling it completely. You didn't want to do something else you'd regret.

“Gon that's enough!” Killua reprimanded. 

He didn't seem to hear him, walking until he was directly in front of Pitou.

He didn't mean it.

Gon would never mean something like that. 

But you didn't think you could forgive him for saying that. Using the secret you'd confided in him to hurt you. You sacrificed so much of yourself for these kids. You didn't ask for much in return. Just the understanding that you were doing your best. You didn't know how you'd get through this one.

You supposed he'd never forgive you either for raising a hand at him. 

“For how long? How long should we wait?” He interrogated the cat ant.

You could feel relief radiate from them.

“I estimate it'll take three to four hours to heal her completely.” They answered.

You knew Pitou was lying to you. You knew they were trying to buy time. And dammit you knew you shouldn't have a shred of sympathy for this thing. But…

But Gon was going too far. He needed a buffer. Anything that might give him time to cool off. You couldn't guarantee the full three hours, but you'd try your best.

“Sorry. Too long.” Gon denied.

You spoke up before Pitou could try to plead for more time.

“Give them a little over an hour.”

He was about to snap at you again, but you didn't give him the opportunity to.

“You said you'd owe me any favor from Greed Island, remember? I'm calling it in right now. Let them heal the girl for an hour.”

You directed your attention to Pitou next.

“And once you're done, you're gonna fix our friend. The off chance you can't…You'll take your own life as payment. Do we have a deal?”

They bowed down their head to you. Truthfully, their priority was the king. They needed to protect him at all costs. If they couldn't fix the human you wanted, then they would leave back to the king's side. But you didn't need to know that.

“I promise.”

A beat of silence. And then your eyes were piercing through theirs. They were unforgiving and knowing.

“Mean it.” You said.

“What?”

“I said mean it when you promise me.” You repeated.

You wouldn't let them get out of this that easily. It was fine. As long as they kept you and that boy away from the king, they could die willingly.

“I swear.” They affirmed, deceit no longer in their aura.

You took a step back, watching as Gon sat himself right in front of Pitou.

“I'll wait right here for one hour.” He conceded.

Neither of you noticed when Killua slipped out of the room. He couldn't handle the tension. Gon had spoken down to him, like he was nothing. Friends weren't supposed to do that. You said he was hurting. That wasn't an excuse to lash out. 

Killua couldn't believe his ears when he'd brought up your past against you. It'd made him mad. Gon was gonna end up making you leave again. And then what? How were they supposed to do this without you?

You'd hit Gon too. He doesn't think he's ever seen that side of you. Even when Killua had been provoking you, never in a million years did he think you would hit him. So what exactly was it that made you slap Gon?

It scared him straight. He knows if he was in the same position he would have broken. 

There were signs, weren't there? Your frantic state. Scared and terrified of the power engulfing you. You pushed yourself to be here. 

He couldn't stand what the NGL had brought out in the two of you. For his sake, he needed space. He needed something to get out all these pent up emotions. The hurt. The anger. The worry. So he left.

You'd been too focused on making sure Gon kept his word to notice. Pitou looked between the two of you. They felt better with you here, leaning closer to your side. As if seeking out protection from Gon’s hateful gaze.

You didn't know how long it'd been. You were sure Gon was keeping track though. Without much thought, you let your en back out. Your 100 meter radius down to 70 from your stress. You felt around for anything heading your way. Faintly you could sense Morel and Knuckle's aura. They were on the cusp of being out of your reach. They were fighting another beastly aura. 

They were struggling. 

You should help them. You shouldn't be sitting here doing nothing. But you just couldn't risk Gon snapping and killing Pitou. You shifted slightly, preparing to make your decision. 

A flicker of life was heading towards you. So small you almost missed it. Two smidges of life floated above you. The aura was disingenuous. It shifted into curiosity after a while. Someone was watching you.

You didn't spare them a glance, concealing the nen in your palm. It slithered like a snake right under the small blimps of life. Little by little one of your puppets formed. Right before you could command it to strike, the aura receded. 

But it wasn't gone. 

More of it started to gather outside the room. Combining until it made up a full being. They seemed unbothered by the situation. As if on cue, a pair of footsteps echoed throughout the hall. Pitou looked out the door in fear.

“Just stay back. Don't come any closer, alright?” They pleaded with the unknown party.

The footsteps picked back up.

“Pouf please!”

You got up slowly. If this was another royal guard, you'd take care of it. You needed an outlet right now. Before they could speak, you met the new ant's eye. 

A butterfly? 

“I don't think so. Let's go.” You gestured back out the door.

He returned your gaze with a glare. Uninterested composure slipping.

“I've got an ass kicking with your name on it.”

A disgusted expression crossed his face. Aura brimming with hostility.

“Excuse me? And what gives you the impression you can give orders to me?” 

A strand of nen wrapped tightly around his neck. He didn't even sense it. Unbeknownst to Pouf, your abilities were somewhat similar. You could read emotions just as he could. Tell what the enemy was thinking. But yours was more practiced. It had him outclassed in a way he was unaware of.

“I wasn't asking.” You said, heading towards the door.

He spared a look over your shoulder at Pitou. Mischief littering his aura before he trailed after you.

“Very well then.”

The grin soon wiped off his face. You reached out and grabbed the particle he released. Crushing it in your hands before speaking. 

“I don't think you understand the position you're in. I'm not gonna let your bullshitery enter this room. Get out or I'll drag you out.”

Your top priority was making sure Gon waited the full hour. Any threat to that needed to be stopped. The ant scowled at you. A petty hatred radiating off him. Still, he followed obediently behind you.

Knowing they were about to be left alone with Gon, Pitou called out to you. 

“Wait! Please don't leave!” They begged. 

“Shut up. Just let them go.” Gon silenced.

It was the last thing you heard before exiting completely. Your en was fully activated to catch any tricks Pouf might throw at you. He faced you without worry, believing you weren't a threat at all.

If anything, he thought you were a fool. Attempting to do what Pitou successfully had.

“May I ask you something?”

But you saw right through it. This thing didn't have a shred of humanity. An animal in every sense of the word. 

“Go to hell.” You responded.

His scowl deepened. He needed to get rid of you. That boy was a problem. And you were the obstacle getting in the way of dealing with him. He tried to gauge your emotional state. There was nothing but an unshakable resolve. 

“Very well then. Have it your way.”

Subduing you should be more than enough. He could always come back and kill you later. Mind made up, he spread his wings and threw his scales at you in mass. 

Even if you tried to get away, you'd be breathing them in. He had you. But as the dust settled, there was a little ballerina in your place. He felt something slam into his artificial body. Another puppet had attacked him.

You were nowhere to be seen.

What the hell?

“I don't have time for this. I must see the King at once.” He grumbled.

“Over here!” You called out.

A foolish mistake. He would not let you get away again. He spit into smaller segments. A few hundred of them charging at you while the others made a beeline away. His core spared a glance back, smiling triumphantly to see his segments holding down their target.

Only to realize it wasn't you. That same ballerina beamed up at the segments with hollow eyes.

“Strike two!” It cheered.

Pouf let out a frustrated noise before deciding to scamper away. Core flying away as fast as he could.

“Fuck! He's getting away!”

You needed one more. One more hit…. One more aura sample. Your eyes scanned for the real him. Spotting it, you used your speed to grab him from the air. 

He gave out a choked sound. 

“Let me go!” He screamed.

You were falling fast back down. Having scaled the side of the building to catch him. He was at your mercy. You could kill him right now. You should kill him. You could feel a mass form next to you. Looking up just in time to see his fake body lunge towards you. 

Bingo!

It's fist making contact with a metallic surface.

“Strike three! Yippee! Game over.” Shika cheered.

Confused, Pouf flew away. 

You landed on your feet. Shika summoned besides you. You couldn't unsummon her or you'd lose Pouf’s ability. You might be able to risk going after him. But your power was cut in half. Realistically you had no chance if the other guard was with him.

A damn shame.

You made your way back to where Pouf and Gon were, stopping at the call of your name.

 “Y/n. What happened to you? Where's Pouf?” Knuckle questioned. 

He thought he saw the butterfly and go this way.

“I dealt with most of him.” You answered.

“Most?”

“A little piece of him got away.”

“His damn segments,” he mumbled before addressing you again.

“That bastard is still out there.” 

“It's okay. I got what I needed from him. If I see him again, I can go all out.” You assured.

He finally noticed the smaller being by your side. He decided not to bring it up. Instead gesturing towards the door behind you.

“How’s Gon doing?”

You let out a drained sigh.

“I wouldn't go in there. He's not himself. He won't listen to anyone right now. Not even me. One wrong word and it's all over. He'll kill Pitou if he's pushed. It's best to leave him alone.” You explained.

“Are you sure?”

You nodded.

“Positive. Please, tell the others not to disturb him.”

Right as the words left your mouth, someone else called out to you.

“Y/n?” It was Killua.

Behind him was Ikalgo and a new ant. You scanned her with your eyes and froze and the familiarity of it. 

“Palm?”

She smiled at you. 

Without thinking, you went up to her and pulled her into a hug.

“Oh Palm, what did they do to you?” You said softly.

You could feel her embarrassment from the contact. Yet she hugged you back all the same.

“They turned me into an ant. I died. But they brought me back. Am I…Do you think Knov will still love me?” She asked shyly.

You pulled back from her with a small smile.

“He better. I was so worried about you. I'm glad to see you're okay.”

Killua cleared his throat, effectively catching your attention.

“I thought if Gon saw Palm was okay, he'd calm down a little.”

Your expression turned somber, shaking your head no.

“He's too far gone. We can't push him right now. It's better if we leave him alone. I'm the only one fast enough to save Pitou if he changes his mind.”

With no other choice but to wait, you all stood by the doorway. It felt like an eternity before they emerged. You were engulfed in the volatile aura once more. 

Pitou hesitated by the exit, turning around to try and comfort the girl. They stopped immediately hearing Gon’s threat. He'd actually threatened to kill Komugi.

You were helpless to do anything. The others in equal shock at his brutal display. Knuckle offered to keep Pitou at bay if they tried anything. But Gon brushed him off. His mind already made up.

“For some reason…I trust Pitou.” He justified, though it sounded like the complete opposite.

You could feel Pitou plotting something in desperation. Their eyes met yours. Silently begging you with their eyes to come along. The hope in them vanishing completely at Gon’s next choice of words.

“Take care of that girl for us until we save Kite.” He ordered.

“Once Pitou heals Kite, we'll release her. I promise you that.” His tone almost mocking as he addressed the cat ant.

“So guess that means for now, you're just gonna have to trust me too. Right, Pitou?” 

They nodded slowly. Following closely behind Gon as he made his way back to Peijing. The icky feeling you've had all night consumed you. You wanted to go after him, something in your gut told you to go. But just this once, you ignored it.

You convinced yourself things would be okay.

“You should've gone with him,” Knuckle said.

“Why didn't you?”

You didn't know how to answer. You didn't know what kept you rooted on the spot. It could've been the familiarity of such malice that kept you away. It could've been not wanting Pitou to use you as a way to get to him. Or it could've done with those three little words.

‘I hate you.’

“It's fine. Now that I've laid my eyes on Gon, I'd know if something happened to him,” Palm intervened.

The subject was soon dropped. Your group of six deciding what to do next when Palm let out a gasp of surprise.

“What is it?” Knuckle asked.

“It's the king! He's coming this way!”

The air felt like it was sucked from your lungs.

“The king? Netero was supposed to take care of him! What do you mean he's on his way!?!” Your tone frantic.

Shit. 

Everybody was working with less than optimal power.

“What do we do? What can we do?” Ikalgo said hopelessly.

You needed a minute to think. A minute you didn't have as a familiar aura approached. Thousands of little blimps scattering along and heading right towards your group.

“Pouf’s segments are here! We gotta get Komugi out of here now! As for the king, if you can't fight, find a place to hide! It's the only choice we have! I'll stall him as long as I can!” You did your best to control the situation.

“Are you crazy?!? No way in hell are you fighting the King alone!” Killua argued, grabbing your arm to make sure you listened.

“He's right! We're not gonna hide like a bunch of cowards while you're being killed!” Knuckle backed up.

You didn't have time for arguments. Pouf was getting closer. Every second standing around was a second the king was getting closer. Yet the resolve of those around you was strong. 

“Then we'll deal with him when he gets here! For now, we gotta get the girl out of here!”

Right as you said it, dozens of Poufs flew into the area. He set his sights on Komugi and flew towards her. You used your ren to give them some push back. 

“Scatter! The more of these things we destroy, the weaker he'll be!”

Killua reacted first, picking up Komugi and using his God Speed to get out of there. You would have cheered him on of the situation hadn't been so dire. Knuckle and Meleoron took off next. Last was Palm and Ikalgo, who decided to help the women still trapped underground.

You were confused to see Pouf's segments only go after Killua. Flying straight at him with the intent to kill. You rushed in front, much to the ant’s dismay.

“Remember me?”

All of the segments frowned, looking over your shoulder. The ones closest to you smashed to dust.

“I'll catch and destroy every part of you!” You threatened.

His expression became manic. The segments mumbling out curses. You could faintly pick up on the muttering of one.

“First that damn girl distracts the king. Then me and Pitou's project defects to the other side. Now I gotta find some way around this human to kill Komugi!”

Everything clicked for you in that moment. Eyes widening in realization. You were frozen on the spot as a few of Pouf’s segments went last you.

‘Me and Pitou's project.’

‘I was killed...They brought me back.’

Your body shook, standing in horror at the revelation. Unawares Pouf had once again changed his course upon being unable to beat Killua. The small assassin took notice of your shell-shocked state.

“Y/n!?! What's wrong!?!” He called out.

“I've gotta…I need to…” 

You willed your body to move. Head filled with a fuzzy static. If that was the case…

“Damn!” You shouted in frustration. 

You were sure it sounded like you were crazy. Hurriedly getting the words out in an attempt to express how dire the situation really was.

“They're abilities work in tandem with each other! Pitou fixes the external damage and Pouf brings them back! If we want to save Kite, we need Pouf's ability! But I can't just leave you to the king!”

Killua’s blood went cold. Realizing the same thing as you. When Pitou couldn't fix Kite by themselves, Gon would lose it completely.

“Yes you can! Gon needs you right now! You have to tell him before it's too late! We're screwed if he kills Pitou after we've figured it out!” He urged you to leave. 

“I can't leave you!” You doubled down.

You didn't want to lose another kid. But Killua wasn't going to budge. He couldn't knowing what was on the line.

“I won't die on you! I promise you I'll get out of here alive!”

Damn it all.

You took off in the direction Kite was being held. Pushing your legs the fastest they could go. Still it wasn't fast enough. Gliding through the terrain with ease and it still wasn't enough for you. You used as much energy as you could spare to summon your en. Sensing around for Gon and Pitou. 

You thought you found him when there was an explosion of nen. Dark. So incredibly dark and filled with everything negative. Hate, Sadness, Guilt, Resignation.

You pushed yourself that much faster, suffocating the deeper you got to the center of that aura. Time seemed to freeze.

DANGER

DANGER

DANGER

Who was that!?!

The source of the heinous aura made a lunge for Pitou. The attack very much familiar to you. You pushed yourself as hard as you could and tackled Pitou out of the way.

It felt like your back was on fire. The blast of nen missing you by a centimeter. Still its power overwhelmed you. You rolled with the cat ant a few times. Righting yourself up to see this new enemy.

No.

It can't be.

Your expression morphed into one of terror. Hand covering your mouth and willing the vile to go down. Your body heaving and shaking. 

“Gon?”

There were parts of his aura that were similar. His clothes were similar. But everything else made you want to cry. His eyes, the ones you always found a piece of her still in, had darkened to the point of unrecognition. His body was not his own. 

What did he do to himself?

What curse did he place on himself to physically age himself up?

This had to be a nightmare.

He stood looming in front of you. Like a predator zoning in on its prey. You extended your arms out in defense of Pitou. 

“You stopped me. Why did you stop me?”

You didn't even recognize his voice. You were scared of him. Frightened at what he might do.

“You keep defending them. Does their life really mean that much to you? More than I mean to you? After everything we've been through…” He hands clenched at his side. Unimaginable power coursing through his veins.

He was looking at you like you were less than nothing. But you couldn't back down.

“Gon, you have to trust me. You're not the only one who's hurting. You're not the only one who's angry.”

You loved Kite too. 

“And it would be so easy to kill Pitou, to get this over with and say it's justice. But it's not. If you kill them, it's a path you can't come back from. You don't want this blood on your hands!”

He took a step forward.

“Please, you have to listen to me. There's another way to bring him back. Just calm down.”

You thought you'd gotten through to him. But he truly was too far gone to listen to reason.

"You're in the way. Move or I'll kill you both."

You hadn't been this scared since Father. Since your entire clan turned on you. There was no deceit in his aura. He really meant it.

You flicked your hand to the side, commanding the puppet on your shoulder to move.

“GO! GET PITOU OUT OF HERE NOW!”

You used your other puppet to block Gon’s next attack.

Your ballerina marionette’s hand morphing into a blade against Pitou's neck.

“This way now.” It instructed.

Pitou owed you a favor for saving their life. For saving Komugi’s. They let the puppet guide them back into the safehouse.

Gon’s attention was fully on you. His rage was directed towards you. And he made it known.

“Show me rock!”

You barely had enough time to dodge. With both of your puppets summoned, you were at his complete mercy.

You made a dash for the trees, hiding yourself in the foliage. Everytime he punched though one, you'd substitute with Henry last second. You didn't know how to snap him out of this.

“I know what you're going through! I've been there before! Hell, I'm still there! I know you Gon! You're not like me!”

Your energy was draining fast, yet his seemed endless. Attacking you without restraint.

“COME OUT AND FIGHT ME INSTEAD OF RELYING ON CHEAP TRICKS!”

You were crying, pleading for this kid to hear you through his pain. But your pleas continued to fall on deaf ears.

“I know this is hard! I know you've been strong for too long! Everything you've been carrying on your shoulders! But you need to hold off! You have to be willing to let Pitou live!”

He sent a surge of energy through the treetops. You evaded down…Right into his trap. His jan-ken poised and ready to crack open your skull. 

You didn't have any time to substitute.

It was a miracle you slipped. The blow only barley missing your head. You were about to rebound up when a hand wrapped around your neck. You felt yourself hanging in the air.

Your lungs denied of the oxygen they desperately needed. He stared you down with unforgiving eyes. 

You thought of Kari. How you were in the same position she'd been in 13 years prior. Your vision was blanking out. Mind running a thousand thoughts a minute. He was going to kill you. 

He was here to kill you.

Your tears ran down your cheeks and onto his hand. The sensation miraculously catching Gon’s attention.

You were…crying?

He made you cry?

For a moment the fog cleared in his mind. He saw you. He realized what he was doing. His rageful expression at last softening. The grip around your neck went lax. He was about to let you go completely when a heavy body knocked onto his side.

You fell with a thud. A murky purple haze around your eyes. Your body curled into a defensive ball. 

It was your puppet. But it was different. It's entire being surged with power. Manic, ruthless power. Its body growing and expanding to fit. It smiled with jagged teeth. 

“New game: start!”

It lunged forward. Gon tried to dodge it, but it wasn't aiming for a direct hit. It made a faint slash to his side. Bouncing around with an agility that shouldn't be possible with its size to continue slashing around. 

He summoned his nen into his palm once more. Shooting off a successful blast of aura at the jester. It only puffed out its chest to disperse the energy. Rebounding forward once again to continue its onslaught.

He met it with a punch, finally making contact. The jester only tutted at him. He realized his mistake too late. It clung to his arm, flashing a smile full of nothing but deranged madness. Try as he may to pry his arm free, this thing wouldn't let him go.

“We'll start out way up top and slit you right on down the spine!”

It's hand morphing into a saw blade, circling around his arm and sawing through the flesh. He could feel the warmth of his blood leaving his body.

“And then I'll sink my little fingers in to help slough off that rind!”

Articulated hands digging into the cut it made and yanking off the limb from his body. This thing was gonna kill him. And maybe a part of him wanted it to. He'd broken his promise to Kite. He'd hurt you.

But the onslaught only grew more violent.

The puppet punched its own monstrous arm through the gushing stub, preventing Gon from being able to pull back. It took a familiar stance that had his eyes widening.

“Jan-ken-rock!” It mimicked.

It was more concentrated than anything he'd ever been able to produce. Shattering every bone in his body, despite the aura protecting it.

You were a monster in every sense of the word. This was what you'd been holding back. This madness. Pure killer instinct to be the last one standing.

And still it wasn't done with him as he collapsed on the ground.

“You’re going to di-ie~ And then I'll wear your skin as a suit. It's a promise ~” It sang out.

Once again it charged up his ability, but there was less power this time.

“Nighty night little sun~”

It was toying with his body. Torturing him just enough to keep him alive. But he deserved it. He bet his life on saving Kite. It was only right he lost it for failing. At least it was you. If he had to be killed, he'd rather it be you that did it. 

Funny how the one supposed to be protecting him was his undoing. 

—---------------------------

Killua rushed through the forest as fast as he could. He had to warn you and Gon. Pitou could betray you two at any second. He had to get there. 

His ears picked up on a thudding sound. It came again. And again. Growing louder the closer he got. He didn't know what it was. He couldn't have predicted it either.

He got to a clearing. A surge of nen lighting up the area before it was released. He ran straight ahead, freezing in horror at the sight before him. 

On the ground, body broken to the point of being unrecognizable, was Gon.

On top of him was a bigger version of your puppet.

It charged up aura into its fist before slamming down. The cause of the repetitive noise.

And curled up under a tree was you.

“Y/N!” He screamed out your name.

Running towards you and shaking you. Begging you to stop. Feeling like he was in a horrible dream.

“Y/N! STOP! YOU'RE KILLING HIM!” He shrieked.

But at the feeling of something touching you, you broke out into a hysterically sob.

“NO!!!! DON'T TOUCH ME! DON'T TOUCH ME!”

The last of your energy going into your cry. Body giving out completely. As soon as you'd gone comatose, the puppet disappeared. All traces of your nen did.

Killua ran over to Gon next, not bothering to hold back his cries. He was alive, but barely. His body was mangled beyond anything he'd ever seen.

What happened here?

What was he supposed to do?

The weight of his next move hung heavily on his shoulders.

Only one. 

He could only save one. 

He was sobbing hysterically at this point. How could you both put him in this position? How could you make him choose between you two? Who mattered more?

“...I'm so sorry Y/n. Please forgive me.” He picked up Gon, casting one last glance back.

He caught sight of a dark handprint across your neck. The indentations of fingers. 

“Please forgive me. I won't be able to go on if you don't.”

Gon needed more help right now. He'd send someone to get you as soon as possible. 

—------------------------

Pitou finished up the last of Kite's stitches, making sure the skin looked normal. When your puppet first led them here, they didn't understand what was wanted of them. Already having told Gon there was no use.

But your puppet was persistent. Gesturing towards the body and hissing out a ‘fix, you must fix.’

It wasn't until it said memory that Pitou understood. Fix the body so Pouf’s ability could take care of the rest. They did their best to get it done quickly. Giving out a sigh of relief when it was over.

“My job is finished here. I need to make my way back to the king.”

They took a few steps towards the exit, unable to process what happened as their vision turned upside down. The floor becoming closer and closer to their line of vision.

“We…are not merciful.” Your puppet said quietly. Little feet entering Pitou's line of sight.

“And you broke your promise…We were never going to let you live.”

It raised its foot up, completely stomping the cat ant’s head in. Putting an end to the creature that had caused so much pain.

It picked up Pitou's mangled skull, leaving it right beside the cocoon. 

“For you.”

Then it disappeared along with the rest of your nen. Never to return again.

—----------------------------------------------------------

Fun Fact: There are no Fun Facts for this one.

Tags: @fandomhoe101 @justxiao @bekataylorgriggs @zellwa @rainbowpr1sm @shun-nie @snake-in-a-flower-crown

MASTERLIST

------------------------------------

An: Oh boy. Oh no. Those are my comfort characters doomed to the narrative. So uhhhh, let's talk about the slap and how the cycle of abuse is a hard one to break. Let's talk about lashing out in fear the same way Y/n was hurt because it's the only way they know how to make it stop. The only way they were taught to enact discipline. Let's talk about Gon feeling so hurt and betrayed because Y/n said they'd never hit either of them. How he never thought they'd raise their hand at him.

Oh boy, let's talk about that fight. Ah yes, my biggest inspirations: Tangled the Series’ Nothing Left to Lose, Steven Universe’s Change, specifically this cover, and Puppet History’s Pieces of You.

Let's talk about how utterly traumatizing it was for Killua to have to pick between the two people he loves the most. Let's talk him watching Y/n about to kill his best friend. Let's talk about him seeing their crushed wind wipe and knowing Gon tried to kill them too. 

Let's talk about the consequences of our actions ladies and gentlemen. Let's theorize the aftermath and how things are about to get worse before they can get better.

[anon-sect]

Picture source: Instagram account @madnikemaster

Alex was in torment the last five days. Will had started his vactions five days ago. He already smelled of foot odor and sweat of Will's feet. The fact that Will only had him for socks only made it worse. His roommate was to be on vacation for eleven days. He didn't know if his mind could survive all eleven days.

FIVE DAYS EARLIER......

Will was preparing for his nice long vacation. It was to be for eleven days at a nice resort in the Carribean islands. As he went to get socks from his drawer, he noticed he didn't have a single clean pair left. He looked in his dirty clothes hamper and saw that it was full. His roommate and apartment slave had not done the laundry. He was highly upset over not having a clean pair of socks. He was leaving today.

"Boy, come here." Will commanded.

Alex was dealing with the arrangements he made his old college friend. He needed a place to stay for a time but had not the means to afford his own apartment. Will offered his other bedroom to him on the condition that he would be his apartment slave while he lives there. It was not an ideal situation, but he would have a place to stay, at least for now, rent-free. so he took the deal.

It has now been two years living with Will, and he was still his apartment slave. He had forgotten to do the laundry yesterday. He figured that was the reason why Will was calling him. "Yes, Sir." He spoke bowing to his roommate. That was also one of Will's rules for him.

"You forgot to do the laundry yesterday, and I don't have a single clean pair of socks for my vacation. I am due to leave in a couple of hours." Will paused, seeming very angry. "How do you suppose we fix this?" He questioned him.

Alex had no clue how to get him enough clean pairs of socks in a short period of time. "Not enough time to wash and dry you a clean pair." He spoke, still thinking of what to do.

Will knew of a solution. He knew Alex wouldn't like it, but this would teach him a lesson about completing his chores. He pulled out his phone and opened up his TF Pro Max app. He selected the socks he wanted and turned the camera to look directly at Alex. He hit the flash option.

Alex saw the flash, and everything changed. He found himself hollowed out and flat on the floor. He felt two hands pick him up as though he was real light to carry. "Since you didn't do my laundry like you should have. I guess you will have to be my socks for my entire vacation. The only pair I will wear the entire eleven days. Sorry, but not sorry about this, buddy." He heard as a foot was shoved inside him without a single thought. He then felt another foot enter him.

Alex found his sensed not dulled but intensified. Every taste and smell was stronger somehow. Even every feeling was more extreme. He could feel each step that Will took, and it was horribly painful for him. It felt like he was being crushed by a huge mountain over and over without death. He could taste every surface of Will's feet and smell even the slightest scent no matter if the scent was weak. He thought it couldn't get worse until he was shoved into a pair of sneakers that reeked of a foul stench. He couldn't escape or move. He was forece to take in the foul odor without his concent. The insoles taste and reek of sweat and musk. If he had a physical mouth and nose, he would be gagging for fresh air while emptying the contents of his stomach at the same time. It was a completely horrible experience. He would be forced to be his socks for the entire eleven days.

During the entire five days, Will enjoy exploration, hanging out with some friends who went with him and over all relaxing. He didn't think much about hs socks. During his private time, he did jack off in one of the socks as a reward for being so comfortable on his feet. Spreading hot cum in the socks was a power trip he rather enjoyed, a little too much.

Will return home after eleven days in the Carribean. It was a great vacation. Even though he only wore one pair of socks the entire time, they held up strong; stronger than any normal pair of socks. Yet, it was time to restore his apartment slave back to normal. He took the socks off and used the flash on his phone. Nothing happened. He kept hitting the flash option, but the socks never reverted back to human form. He was puzzled about it until he realized what went wrong. He wasn't the only one who jacked off in his socks. A cute guy he had in his hotel room also jacked off in them for sport. The guy thought it was hot that the socks were former human and wanted to have a little fun with them as well.

Alex was releved that Will's vacation was over. He was tired of being socks. Having to deal with Will's feet the entire time was bad enough, but being jacked off in by both Will and another guy was so humilating and degrading. The fact that the guy knew he was a former human and wanted to do it anyway was torture. "Sorry to tell you, but having cum from two different guys saturate your insides has made this permanent for you. I can't change you back, but there is good news in all of this. You get to personally serve my feet and cock for a very long time." He heard Will laugh at his fate. He couldn't believe that this was permanent. He barely survived mentally all eleven days, yet alone the rest of his life. He found himself being put back on Will's feet and walked on. He could only mentally weep as he would never be human again and only just socks for an old college buddy.

Last story for 2024. Wishing all my followers a Happy New Year.

I will be back to doing the anonymous request in 2025. The next ones will be those who have already sent some to me. Again, Happy New Year to everyone.

[voidspiraling]

Omg Till is so cute whattttttt. Excuse my brain rotting I just needed to get this out of my system.

LOOK AT THEM SO CUTE

ALL OF THEM SO CUTE!!!!

Ahem.

Now time for some serious analysis 🧐 (I don’t rlly get anywhere tho so less of an analysis and more just me asking a bunch of questions hoping for an answer from the void)

One thing I noticed aside from how cute Till is his eye bags.

This baby Till doesn’t have eye bags yet, so we can conclude that Till was starting to become sleep deprived after the age of 3 and before the age of 8. (I’m just making a guess based on the pics of their age Till could be 12 in that picture I truly couldn’t tell you)

Now what does this mean when a child is continuously sleep deprived by a stupid alien?

Impacts Behaviors: Harder to pay attention, prone to mood swings, and increased impulsivity (Yep that’s Till)

Impacts Mental Health: Increases the risk and severity of depression and anxiety (What do you know that’s also Till!)

Impacts Brain Development: Negatively affects the memory and intelligence parts of the brain (Do you guys remember that brain scan that showed a brain suffering from trauma?)

As you can see from an early age Till was already put through the wringer before he even got a bruise. I say this because sleep deprivation is extremely torturous regardless of whether it’s forced or self inflicted. Mentally and physically not getting enough sleep fucks up every aspect of your life. The lack of sleep could be bc Till was staying up late, it was noted by other Anakt kids that Till kept them up at night bc he was practicing his music. It could also be bc Urak forced him to stay awake.

Like when he made Till watch videos of a younger Luka. Overall my heart broke once again at the way they treat a literal baby. Another thing I want to point out is their necks.

I’m leaving out Ivan cuz he doesn’t wear the collar anyways. But Mizi and Sua both wear the standard (I’m assuming standard bc they’re the most common) collars both lit up green. They’re living in a little bubble and while they look cute, knowing how their story goes makes them look uncanny. Anyways this is the collar most of the kids wear.

But Till is wearing a different collar and also is wearing a green patch. It always made me curious why he has different collars compared to the rest. Like I get it’s bc of the fact that he rebels a lot so he has a lot more restraints. But this collar is thinner and more metallic than the other ones. You’d think that if they were trying to punish him more they’d give him a bigger collar or a more restrictive one. They forced him into one that restrains his arm to his torso and one over his mouth. But this is just a thin collar that he wears on stage and it doesn’t seem to have any function other than to be a small collar. It also doesn’t show a mood indicator like the other ones do. I guess bc Urak doesn’t care what Till is feeling so he didn’t bother getting that feature. But it also makes it ambiguous what Till is feeling. In the picture while Mizi and Sua look happy, and Ivan looks focused, Till looks shocked and perplexed about writing in the air. (And adorable but when doesn’t he look adorable?) Anyways I can’t for the life of me figure out why his loser alien would get a custom collar that is so simple. From what I’ve gathered abt that freak he grew up in the slums but due to his greedy nature and inability to have compassion was able make it big by doing illegal shit. So maybe it was cost effective to just make simple collars instead of getting the standard one? What a cheap bastard.

Another thing that confuses me is the green patch on his neck.

Just what is this? My first thought went to nicotine patches and insulin patches. But those aren’t suppose to go on the neck, usually on the arm. Then as I did my daily watch of Round 6 I noticed that Till has been injected with unknown substances through his neck.

My guess is that the green patches are injecting him with some type of drug. And because the skin around the neck is so fragile the drugs can seep through easier. (It’s completely unsafe but in line with how the loser alien acts)

There are two possible explanations.

One is that Till has become addicted to the drugs they pump him with. And in order to keep him normal and keep him from showing withdrawal signs they use the green patches like a nicotine patch. Drugs have been used by artists as a way to further their craft. Some have even become reliant on it in order to make art. There’s a sense of enlightenment as well, some use it as a way to gain a new perspective on life. I personally can’t understand using drugs for that purpose, but some of the greatest works of art have been created through the use of substances like these. So it’s possible that Urak in his attempt to create a weapon that could topple Luka tries to make Till produce songs using that method. Such as injecting a bunch of drugs and leaving him in a room to write songs.

Two is that they use the green patch as a way to sedate Till, or as a way to enhance his performance. As evident by just looking at Till you can tell he’s running on fumes when he’s on stage. So maybe as a way to push past his limit they drug him so that he can keep performing even when his body is at its limit. The patches are only seen in Round 2 but that could explain why Till got a nosebleed when he was performing in Round 7. His body was finally catching up to him.

Alternatively they could just be there to cover up the wounds from injections while also looking cool lol.

As you can tell I am very confused ;-; but also very curious abt these experiments. They seemed to be focused on the throat and mouth which makes me think they’re trying to modify how these kids sing. Like are they trying to make it so that they can sing outside of their vocal range? Are they trying to make it so that they can sing without having to breath? Or maybe the drugs can affect their literal genes. I know human editing is a procedure in Alien stage universe but what does that actually mean? Can you edit their appearance? Their personality? Their memory? Their thoughts?

My attempts at analysis have only left me with more questions.

Thanks for reading byeeeeee

[copperbadge]

i was thinking of you the other day and your discussions of your ability or lack thereof to visualize things in your mind, because someone asked me who all had been at a gathering, and i answered them by calling up the room in my memory and looking around it to see who was there. and it occurred to me after the fact that i suppose probably not everyone can do that? but i could even tell you at least approximately what everyone was wearing (color, cut, maybe not precise pattern, but the general style, sure). and while i can’t swear to you that it’s 100% accurate because i don’t have a picture to compare it to, i think it’s pretty close.

but now i’m curious - what would your thought process be if you were asked the same question? if you can’t just look around the room in your mind, is the memory interaction-based? or like… voices you remember hearing? or something else?

Well, bear in mind that I haven't got a great memory to begin with -- possibly the ADHD at work, but also there's a condition that's frequently comorbid with aphantasia called Severely Deficient Autobiographical Memory -- people with SDAM have trouble recalling huge chunks of their lives and when they do have recall they often remember it as if they'd been told it, they have no emotional sense attached. For example, I remember a trip I took where I had to do some hard shit and it was really scary, but I don't remember the feeling of being scared, I just remember that I was. I have no idea how long the trip was, no memory of the hotel room, very little memory of doing the scary thing. I know I did it, but there's not a lot of attachment there.

This is not ALWAYS the case -- for example I have extremely fond memories of certain other trips -- but I don't really seem to be able to switch it on or off. Like when I was in Europe, I stayed in an AirBNB in London, but by the time I got to Rome like, five days later, I couldn't remember what it was like. I ended up spending a little time one evening kind of calling up memories of where I stayed in London and in Paris to try and hard-code them into my memory, and that worked, but I also needed the help of photos and tumblr posts I'd made to achieve it. ("What did it even look like? Well -- wait, I cooked some pizzas in the microwave while I was there. The microwave was on the counter, opposite the bed, and -- oh, okay, I remember now.")

So like, I would have no goddamn idea of the majority of people at any given gathering where I attended, but is that SDAM, ADHD, a function of my anxiety in social situations, or the aphantasia? Difficult to say.

I hosted a get-together on Sunday and because I was host and there weren't that many people in attendance I could name them off, but I couldn't tell you what they wore. The last party I attended, a week or two previously, was at a friend's house and it was mostly folks I was at least passingly familiar with, but I am bad with names and so couldn't NAME a lot of the people there -- but for example I could say "Well, the hosts were there, and I spoke with X, Y, and Z, so they were definitely there, but I also spoke with like four other people whose names I didn't get. I dunno what any of them were wearing even though it was a costume party." But yeah to even come up with that I would have to think about when I arrived, walk myself through whatever I remember of the event in linear order, and just note down who I spoke with. If I didn't speak with them, or if I didn't know them well, they didn't exist for me.

So I guess the answer is that my memory isn't visual and also just kinda...isn't there a lot of the time. It's not like amnesia, or the profound brain damage you read about where the person only remembers the last ten minutes or doesn't remember anything past a certain date in their life, but I just haven't got much memory for things. It's why I use a lot of lists and spreadsheets and make yearly photobooks.

My photo archive on my computer goes back to about 1998, and it's sorted by year, but the top level folder all the years are stored in is simply titled "Where I've Been" 'cause I probably wouldn't remember, otherwise.

[flower-boi16]

Hellaverse's World Building Problems (100 Follower Special!)

World-building is one of the most important things in any fantasy show, it fleshes out the setting the characters live in and tells you how things work. Unfortunately, Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss have several issues when it comes to they're world-building that harm both series and in this post, I'm going to discuss them.

1. Obsession with Pride

An issue I have with Hellaverse's world-building is that, for some reason, sinners aren't allowed in any other ring outside of the pride ring. So, this creates a few problems. The first is that Hazbin Hotel can now only use one setting rather than the other six it has because the characters are forced to be stuck there, so we'll have to use the same exact setting in a world with six more.

This wouldn't be such a problem if it weren't for the fact that the pride ring itself is an extremely boring setting, it just looks like our world except red, and there's nothing unique or interesting about it aside from there being demons there.

The only place in the pride ring that has any potential to be interesting is cannibal town, and even then, it just looks like a normal town, there isn't exactly any cannibalization in it to be seen.

The other rings at least have interesting themes to them that make them distinct from each other, the pride ring is just some boring city painted in red. Then there's the issue of why sinners are even kept in the pride ring at all?

I'll go into this more later but the hierarchy in hell is very inconsistent at times. Imps are supposed to be lower class than sinners yet they have access to all the rings while sinners can only be in one. So why would Lucifer keep the sinners in the pride ring and only in the pride ring? The show doesn't bother giving an explanation for this at all.

I've seen the argument go around that it makes the exorcists do their job more effectively which while does make sense...it also doesn't exactly do very well for Lucifer as a character if he intentionally kept his own people in one ring so killing them would be easier. It loses a lot of sympathy points for him for me.

Besides, the show itself still needs to explain these plot holes rather than forcing fans to make fan theories over it. Seriously, I searched this question up on Google and I found so many people asking this, and all of the responses to the posts were people just making educated guesses because the show itself never bothered to actually EXPLAIN this.

So it's not even all of Hell having an overpopulation problem, it's just the pride ring specifically because sinners are confined there forever. If Charlie wants to solve Hell's overpopulation problem, why not ask her daddy to let sinners into other rings? (Assuming she doesn't know the actual reason why Heaven does this which totally does create serious issues with the show) Again, it's just the pride ring having an overpopulation problem, not all of Hell, so why Charlie never figured this out is beyond me.

But confining the characters to the pride ring creates more issues than just that, because now the show can't flesh out the other rings because it forces the characters to be stuck in just one.

So, you get the next issue with Hellaverse's world-building...

2. Packing World Building in a spin-off

Because Hazbin Hotel can't flesh out its world itself, it needs to rely on its spin-off, Helluva Boss, to flesh it out instead. This becomes a problem when you look at Hazbin as a stand-alone show separate from Helluva Boss; if you did not watch Helluva Boss, Hazbin's world-building would come across as fairly underdeveloped due to the characters being confined to one ring, so the other rings wouldn't get much fleshing out or development causing Hell as a setting to feel underdeveloped.

Hazbin Hotel is the main series of Hellaverse, it should be able to stand on its own as a stand-alone show and should not need a spin-off to flesh out its world-building. A new viewer should not have to watch a spin-off show to get more out of the main show's world-building, the main show should've fleshed out its world itself rather than rely on a spin-off for it.

This is why confining the characters to just the pride ring is a bad idea, the show can't flesh out its world now and it has to rely on a spin-off series to do that, so in order for a new viewer to experience more of the other rings, they would need to watch a spin-off show which is entirely supplemental material that one normally does not need to watch to understand things about a story.

Without HB, the other rings in Hazbin are very underexplored and underdeveloped, because we never get to see them or flesh them out. It needs to rely on its spin-off to flesh out its world, and that's bad because a spin-off is SUPPLEMENTAL MATERIAL. A viewer should not need to watch supplemental stuff to understand things about the main show, it should not be a required watch to get more of the world-building fleshed out.

Though, if anything, Helluva Boss just creates more world-building problems within the franchise, such as...

3. Hell's Hierarchy

So, in the Hazbin Hotel, there is a hierarchy in Hell. The order from most power to least is...

Lucifer

Charlie and Lilith

The Seven Deadly Sins

Ars Goetias

Overlords

Sinners

Hell Borns

Imps and Hell-Hounds

The problem here is that Hell's hierarchy is constantly ignored or broken by both of the shows. For example, Sinners and Overlords are confined to only the pride ring, meanwhile, Imps and Hell hounds, who are LOWER CLASS than Sinners and Overlords, are allowed to go to any ring that they like.

Then there's Beelzebub, whose mere existence causes issues. Let's get the obvious out of the way; why is a HELLHOUND one of the deadly sins when those are supposed to be just as lower class as imps? This could work if Beelzebub specifically had the least amount of power of the sins, but she doesn't.

FURTHERMORE, once we just ignore the fact that Beelzebub is a sin despite being a hellhound, we then have to open the can of worms that is her having a boyfriend who is also a hellhound, and...nobody cares about this?

I'm sorry, if a sin is perfectly allowed to date a hell hound in public, then why is it such a big deal when Stolas and Ozzie are caught fucking imps? Do the other sins not know about this??? Does Lucifer not know about this??? If so, why not??? Surely one of them being in a relationship with a hellhound would get they're attention...right?

And if they do know about this then again, why is it such a big deal that a Goetia Prince is sleeping with an imp and a sin, who is ABOVE HIM IN TERMS OF POWER, being in a relationship with a hellhound, who are just as if not MORE lower-class than imps, not? It's a confusing inconsistency.

Also, and I JUST REALIZED THIS, but what even happens when a sin or goetia is found out to be fucking an imp or hell hound? Seriously, what consequences does that sin or goetia even face? Stolas has been exposed for fucking Blitz ever since the end of season 1 yet he has received NO consequences at all, and like I said, Beezlebulb is allowed to be in a relationship with someone who is on the SAME LEVEL AS IMPS.

So why would Ozzie even need to hide his relationship with Fizz at all? What are the consequences for being in a relationship with a hellhound or imp? So far, there appears to be absolutely none! So why is it even that big of a deal when Stolas gets found out? Why does Ozzie need to hide his relationship with Fizz if there aren't going to be any consequences for it?

These plot holes hurt my BRAIN to think about. There is no consistency here, Hell's Hierarchy barely fucking matters in either of the shows, and characters higher up in the hierarchy are allowed to do SEVERAL things with lower classes and face no consequences despite the show trying to say they would. Oh, but all of what I just mentioned are just issues with HELL's world-building, now it's time to get into...

4. Heaven

I already talked about the problems with Heaven in the show so I won't dwell on the issues I've already talked about too much, however, Heaven still has many world-building issues like Hell does. For one, as I've already pointed out, we don't even know how Heaven even WORKS.

I already asked these questions before but like. How does one get into Heaven? What are the requirements for what make a good or bad person? We don't actually know and we never will because Heaven for SOME REASON doesn't have it's own criteria for what does or doesn't make a good person...

...WHY??!? Why don't they have this??? So how does one even GET into Heaven at all???? We have no idea of how Heaven works because the show never actually bothers putting in the effort to explain that.

Who even decides whether or not to get into Heaven??? Who is in charge of that??? Answer: We don't fucking know. Sera mentions the "divine judgment", which, after a quick Google search, says "the action of God's retributive justice by which the destiny of rational creatures is decided according to their merits and demerits"

So basically god decides who goes into Heaven or Hell, which would make sense...if it weren't for the fact, from what I've heard from other blogs...Viv said that god doesn't exist in HH or HB...so...

...divine judgment by WHO EXACTLY???? The lack of explanation of what does or doesn't get somebody into Heaven is made worse with Pentious getting into Heaven in the season finale.

I have already complained about this multiple times but like. HOW DID PENTIOUS GET INTO HEAVEN???? WHY DID HE GET INTO HEAVEN???????? He literally got killed by Adam! He should be a bunch of energy right out according to the wiki! Yet he makes it into Heaven anyway???? WHY????? The show never explains this at all! The only thing resembling a logical explanation I could find was on the wiki and even then the article was just speculating because again, the show didn't bother to actually explain this.

Viv. Can you PLEASE for the love of god (no pun intended) actually explain the rules of your world and its world-building? People should not have to create theories to patch up plot holes in your world-building, actually, EXPLAIN this shit for once.

Oh, and I'm still not done, because now there's the fact that the entirety of Heaven and most of Heaven's higher-ups except for Sera never knew of the exterminations, which creates MORE plot holes.

Did none of Heaven's citizens or other higher-ups question why the exorcists had BLOOD on them when they came back from Hell? Wouldn't have any of them put two and two together and think "Hey so they are probably killing people down there". Did none of them even question what was the point of the exorcists at all? How was Sera able to hide this stuff? Once again, the show doesn't answer ANY OF THIS.

Oh, and I'm STILL not done, because now, it's time to open the can of worms that apparently does not exist in this universe.....WHY?!?!? According to Google, the angels were created BY GOD. So, if he doesn't exist, how did the angels exist either? Who created them??? Heck, who even created HEAVEN ITSELF?????? Removing god from this universe creates so many issues and breaks the entire show. sigh, ok, I think that's enough....

5. Conclusion

So, Hellaverse's world-building has MANY issues. There are a lot of plot holes and thoughts about it that don't get answered, as well as hell itself, specifically the pride ring being incredibly boring visually. Not to mention a lot of the world-building is packed into a SPIN-OFF SHOW. So...ya, hope you liked my post, and thank y'all for 100 followers! So...bye.

[noorpersona]

You Can't Be Serious NSFW (Reader x Iwaizumi)

High school is an extremely short era in people's lives. The choices you make don’t really matter, and the friends you made in that time usually wash away in the memories that overtake you in the cruel hours of early morning.

For most people at least.

In life, you’d guess that the world was split in two with these drastically different, but equally true opinions. But for you, it’d definitely be the first one. Had you not randomly joined the Seijoh High School boys' volleyball club on a whim as manager in your first year, you were very sure that your life would be completely different than it is right now.

You wouldn’t have four best friends that you keep in contact and chat with almost every day, and even more so, you wouldn’t being engaged at this very moment.

Yes, you were in fact engaged to your first crush and one of your very best friends. You weren’t high school sweethearts, and it wasn’t love at first sight, but more of a gradual thing that had started by the start of college and grown into something that you wouldn’t trade for the world. The ring adorning your left hand was a weight you’ve gladly grown accustomed to, having the ability to make you smile whenever the glimmer of the diamond caught your eye.

Of course, smiling to yourself in a random café was a little embarrassing, but hell if you couldn’t stop yourself. Instead, your smiling turned from the ring to the man you called out your name. You wouldn’t' be surprised if the people sitting in nearby tables thought that the man coming towards you, seemingly intimidating with the number of piercings and tattoos he had, however canceled out with the lazy grin slapped on his face, was your husband-to-be. But you both knew better.

“Hey there, Iwaizumi-san.” Matsukawa’s voice is light and teasing as he approaches your table, with you standing to greet him properly, head shaking slightly at his antics. You give him a quick hug, smiling up at him.

“You don’t have to call me that Issei. Though I will admit it does have a nice ring to it.” He hums as you both go to sit at the table again. “Also, you’re twenty minutes late. What’d you do, crawl here?”

Matsukawa clicks his tongue.

“I came here as fast as I could. It takes a lot of effort to look this good you know.” His arm raises to gesture at himself, jacket slipping down a little ways down his wrist where you could see the beginning of his most recent tattoo that you were against him getting. (What, 14 aren’t enough for you?) You snort.

“Believe me, I know.” He raises his pierced brow at you.

“Hey, it's just chance Hajime got to you first. I could’ve had you if I wanted you.” Its’ your turn to raise a brow.

“Issei... You’re gay.” His response is immediate.

“And he’s goddamn lucky I am. You would’ve fallen for me in an instant if I turned it on back then.” If this wasn’t considered a nice place, you’re sure he would’ve put his feet up on the table, confidence and pride just oozing off him, in the way you admittedly loved.

“Really now? Well, I’m sure my personal trainer fiancé would love to hear that.” A beat of silence hits the table.

“You play dirty.”

You shrug. “Where’s the fun in playing fair?”

“You gotta point.” You chuckle, finally looking at the menu given to you when you were first seated at the table. Matsukawa had actually invited you to lunch, for what you had assumed would be a mini celebration of yours and Hajime’s engagement, but only problem is...

Hajime wasn’t invited. In fact, you were told not to tell him you were going at all.

And, to your knowledge, he was a supposed to be a pretty important aspect of the celebration. When you had initially asked the reason to this impromptu lunch, and why you were told to keep it a secret from your fiancé, Matsukawa had been danced around the question, saying something along the lines of ‘What, I can’t ask one of my best friends to a random lunch? What is up with this society?’

Needless to say, you were suspicious.

You conspicuously look up from your menu, watching Matsukawa as he read his casually. As though this meeting was truly innocent, like there was nothing up his sleeve.

You’d known this man much too long to think for any second he’d do anything with innocent intent.

A server comes and takes your orders quickly and tells you that your food should arrive shortly. In this time, you figure out a proper strategy to try and find out what the hell this man is planning.

“So...” You start, fingers lightly circling the wooden table separating you two. “Mind telling me why you brought me out here so suddenly and why I was sworn to secrecy?” Matsukawa looks to you with half lidded eyes like he usually does, smile light and playful. Truly, an amazing poker face. Had you known him any less you

would’ve been none the wiser, but thankfully, you knew him all too well.

“I can’t take some time out of my very busy work life to see my favourite person in our ragtag group? Do you trust me that little?” You deadpan.

“Yes, I trust you that little. And what busy work life? Takahiro literally just told me you went out and bought as many RubberDucks with sunglasses you could find two days ago. For fun.” He scoffs.

“Well, excuse you, my work is very tiring. I need to find some ways to relax.” You can’t stop the roll of your eyes.

“You work at a funeral home and part time.”

“One could argue I’m doing the Lord’s work.” You fail to mask your face with the veil of annoyance, letting your smile take away any intensity you might’ve had. Chats with Matsukawa definitely didn’t get old.

“Then being the Lord’s helper, don’t you think you could cut the bullshit and tell me what it is you want from me?” He snickers, then goes silent. His face turns deadly serious in an instant, and his eyes meet yours. His stare was so intense you started to get a bit frightened. Was there actually something going on?

“I’m pregnant.” The tightening you felt in your chest was lifted as your tired sigh filled the air surrounding you. You wonder if this lunch was actually worth your time, in the moments that Matsukawa tries to contain his laughter to small chuckles.

“Issei...” He raises his hands in the air in surrender.

“Fine, fine. I brought you out here because I wanted to give you a little engagement present.” Your mood significantly lightens up at his words, mostly because the tiny anxieties in the back of your head of something bad really happening was finally put at bay. The sound of a ruffled paper bag hits your ears as he pulls your present from under the table and on top. (Really, how did you not notice it earlier?)

But you were still a little confused.

“And Hajime couldn’t know because?” Your question trails on as you grab the bag, peering over the table to a smaller white box in the bag. The box was unmarked, and you wondered what it could be.

“He’d beat the shit outta me.” Matsukawa said matter of factly. “He told us no gifts, remember?” Come to think about it, you do remember that. After he announced that you two were engaged to Matsukawa, Hanamakki, and Oikawa you vividly remember Oikawa over video crying about the things he could send from Barcelona, and Hajime saying that’d he punch him the next time they met if he did.

Hajime didn’t really like gifts all that much and it was understandable. He was the kind of guy who appreciated your company more than materialistic objects, which is something you did find really sweet. And he wasn’t alone in his opinion either, since you didn’t really like gifts either, but your reasoning was much shallower; In all honesty, having to remember who gave what and try to reciprocate the level of quality that person had given you before is a hassle.

You’d rather just be given money and be done with it.

But you would be lying to say that it didn’t feel nice to have someone go through the trouble of doing this.

“Aw, Issei... You didn’t have to...” He smiled again, slightly more genuine than the last. “It’s not a problem.” You thanked him, before enthusiastically looking at the box, attempting to open it.

“Actually, I’d refrain from opening it now.” He stops you dead in your tracks, and you look up confused.

“Huh? Why?”

“Let’s just say it's something you definitely wanna open alone.” Your expression makes him laugh but he doesn’t say anything further. You have half the nerve to throw caution to wind and open it anyways, but something deep inside your conscience tells you to listen to him. You hold your slightly concerned gaze, as you gently place the box back into the bag.

“Alright then...” You say cautiously, putting the bag next to your chair. “Can you at least tell me what it is?” His grin turns Cheshire.

“I’m bound by the law of my own unwillingness, and it has extremely strict regulations. So, unfortunately, I’m unable to tell you at this current moment in time. You’ll just have to see for yourself.” He says causally as he watches you slump back in your seat like a child with a laugh. You give him a side glance.

"So, you really just called me out here to give me this?”

“Yup.”

“With no other allterior motive?”

“Nope.” You sigh again, right as your food is being delivered. You both give a quick thanks.

“And you couldn’t have told me this over the phone?”

“What fun is that?” He says, mouth now full of food. You scoff as you begin to eat

your own, still slightly annoyed for being worried over seemingly nothing. Matsukawa notices.

“Aww, are you mad? What can I do for you to forgive me?” His mock pleading voice makes you smile again despite yourself. You click your tongue.

“You can start by treating me.” And with that you drop it. _________________________

The rest of the meal was quite pleasant, with Matsukawa paying for your meal just like you asked and congratulating you once again. You make plans to have lunch again with him and Hanamakki sometime soon, then finally leave for home.

During the meal, you mostly forgot about the present Matsukawa got for you. Sure, the delivery was weird, but Matsukawa was just weird in nature, so you didn’t really think much of it. You loosely held the bag in your hand as you took the train ride home. Your walk back was calm, and everything was ordinary until you returned to the small one-bedroom apartment that you and Hajime shared.

“I’m home!” You called out, taking off your coat and shoes. You hear no response. You crinkle your nose. Hajime should be home by now. You walk into the living, looking for your fiancé, to find a small note on the little table you have your meals on.

Had to pick up someone's shift at the gym, so I’ll be home late tonight. Don’t worry about food I’ll get some on the way. Love you, Hajime

You feel warmth race through you at the note. You always teased him about stuff like this, saying that he should text you instead, but he still did it anyways.

Not that it matters anyways, he knows you like it.

You let a little exhale as you place the note back down. Looks like you're on your own for the rest of the evening. You decide that today would be the perfect time to do nothing but lazy around, since you haven’t done that in a long time and it’s a Friday night damnit. Living an adult lifestyle can be so tiring sometimes, and you deserve a break.

You nod to yourself and prepare for a day of relaxing, throwing your clothes into your hamper and taking the necessary items for a long hot shower. You take your time, letting the warm water ease your tense muscles, and calm you down entirely.

By the time you finish, the bathroom is full of steam, and you know that you’re going to cringe at your water bill this month, but at the moment you didn’t care. You wrap

yourself with your towel and exit filled with bliss. Mind free of all ailments. At least until your eyes land on that paper bag.

You stare at it, and you swear it stares back at you. Every second that passes, you feel your curiosity peak more and more until you can barely stand it.

“Let’s just say it's something you definitely wanna open alone.”

Matsukawa’s words bounce around in your head, and it is his words that make you grab the bag and move to your bedroom, setting it on the bed before removing the unmarked box from its confinements.

You’re eager yet weirdly cautious as you open the box, seeing nothing but coloured tissue paper on the surface. Removing that you find a smaller package. Picking it up you instantly recognize it as the weight of clothes.

Seems normal enough. Why would I not want to open this in public?

You rip the packaging open, to be met with the reason as to why he didn’t want you opening this in public. Your jaw dropped.

It was the sluttiest lingerie set you’d ever seen, in fact, lingerie would be an overstatement.

Lingerie had more fabric than this monstrosity.

It came with a thick light pink collar, and you wish that the was the worst of it. The top was completely pink mesh, made to show everything except the nipples, which even then didn’t do that job correctly because you knew there was no way that would be covering anything properly with this material. The panties, if you could even call them that, were just three pink strings, not even covering what underwear was supposed to cover.

And of course, there were some thigh highs. Because why not add more to this shitshow.

Your face grows more and more red as you stare at the ‘clothes’ in your hands. You stare and stare, and stare... Until your embarrassment of holding such an item turns to pure rage and bitter resentment towards the person that is Matsukawa Issei.

You dial his number in anger and shame, getting more pissed for every ring you hear. Finally, he answers. You don’t even give him time to say hello.

“You perverted son of a bitch.” There’s a pause.

“Hi, you’ve actually reached the boyfriend of the aforementioned ‘perverted son of a bitch’. Can I be of service to you?” Hanamakki’s tone is mockingly serious, amplified over the crispness of the phone audio, and you’re really not in the mood.

“Where the hell is Issei?”

“I’m afraid he’s occupied with a couple dozen RubberDucks and a bath. Perhaps I can solve your issue?” You scoff.

“My issue is that your boyfriend is a sick fuck.” You practically spit. There's another pause.

“Didn’t we establish this? Like a long time ago?” You let out an exasperated sigh. You don’t know why you’re even bothering at this point, there are two peas of the same pod; they were practically made for each other.

“Takahiro, I’m serious. You won’t believe what that rat bastard gave me as an ‘engagement present’.” You use the term present lightly. Like anyone would ever want this.

“Yeah, I know. Can you believe I owe his dumbass a 1000 yen now?” Your eyes narrow in confusion, letting out another scoff unintentionally.

“You knew?”

“Please, I was the one who picked it out.” You tried multiple times to make sensible sentences, but your frustration was getting the better of you. Hanamakki listens to you stumble over your sentences patiently. You take a couple of deep breaths, not wanting your blood pressure to rise.

“Why?” You stress, after realizing that you wouldn’t be able to form anything coherent.

“I’ve actually prepared a whole presentation on this subject matter. It mostly concentrates on, ‘Why the hell not?’” He snickers.

You could swear you saw read.

“Takahiro.” Your tone is clearly conveying your current emotions because you swore you could hear Hanamakki gulp nervously. “Look, it was only a gag gift. No harm, no foul. If you don’t want to use it-” You cut him off with another of your scoffs.

“I’m sorry, ‘Use it’?! What on earth would I use this abomination for?!” There's a beat of silence between you two.

“...Do we really need to have this conversation?” Your nose unintentionally wrinkles.

“You’re not really saying, that either Hajime or I would enjoy this?” You raise the items in your hand, as though Hanamakki could see.

“You, maybe not. But Hajime, most definitely.” You blink, once, twice, slowly.

It’s you who doesn’t say anything for a while, as you stare at the lingerie in your hand.

Hajime would like this? Really?

You could hear Hanamakki sigh on the other end.

“I can practically hear you contemplating your life choices. I am actually sorry if it made you uncomfortable.” You narrow your eyes.

“Are you really?”

“No, this conversation has been really fun. But,” You roll your eyes. “What I’m telling you is true. That thing is maddening I’ll say that much.”

“Yes, because your advice on me and my fiancés' sex life is much appreciated.” You hear his laugh.

“I’m only saying that if Issei came out in something like that, we wouldn’t be leaving the house for days-”

“Ew, ew, I’m hanging up now.” You abruptly end the phone call upon the images of your best friends doing things in certain outfits infiltrate your mind.

You sigh heavily, all the work you put into relaxing dissipating into nothing after a single phone call. You lay back on your bed, eyes trailing to the fabric still in your hand.

That thing is maddening I’ll say that much.

You wince at the fresh memory bouncing in your head, unable to think about anything else.

You sit up straight, a newfound sense of frustration and throw fashion’s version of the spawn of Satan back in its box.

You had more self-respect than this. You had more pride than this.

You would never, ever, put yourself in a position where someone could ever see you like that. It was gross, weird and something you’d never do.

Never, ever.

_________________________

You can’t believe you’re doing this.

Your head is bowed in shame as you slide the thigh highs on your legs. For as shady as it looked, the material felt surprisingly good.

Whether you liked it or not, Hanamakki knew his shit.

You gave the socks one final tug before standing up and slowly looking at yourself in the mirror, full of fear and distaste that you caved into the words of your idiotic friends.

Your eyes widened at what you saw. You quite literally couldn’t believe it was you.

The bra seemed to fit you perfectly, and you had half a nerve to call up Hanamakki and ask him how he got it so accurately, but a part of you felt it was better to not know the answer. The underwire fit directly into the contours of your breasts, knowing exactly how to push them up and close, creating more cleavage than you’d ever seen on your self. Of course your nipples were showing from the transparency of the fabric, and sheer lack of it showed the bumps of your buds, leaving nothing to the imagination. The underwear hugged tugged your hips downward in the magical ratio of accentuating your waist, really showing off your figure. The string that went directly down your ass also somehow managed to make it look nicer, and you aren’t even sure how.

All in all, you were shocked to say the least. You couldn’t take your eyes off yourself, and you completely understood what Matsukawa and Hanamakki were talking about.

But obviously that didn’t mean showing this to Hajime. You have no idea how he’d react, and honestly, you’re too much of a coward to try and find out.

But apparently, you wouldn’t have much of a choice.

You jump from your trance at the sound of a door opening and closing, your heart jumping up to your throat in pure anxiety.

“I’m home.” You hear Hajime call out from the living, and you immediately start to panic, the sound drying up in your throat. Truth be told you weren’t the best at handling things under pressure, and while there were dozens of possible solutions to your problem, none were coming to mind.

Your name is called in question, your fiancé used to having you welcome him home. You squeak, stumbling to the door.

“I’m in our room, Hajime! I’m just trying something on!” You yell out, all the while

hopping on one foot trying to remove the socks as quickly as possible.

“Oh? You went shopping?” Your heart sinks. On any normal occasion, you’d show him what you’d bought if you did go shopping, so it’d look even more suspicious to hole yourself in your room.

“Oh trust me, this isn’t something I’d ever buy. Ever.” You chuckle nervously.

“What is it?” His voice was clearer now, you could tell he was on the other side of the door. For some reason, you stop undressing.

This thing is maddening I’ll say that much. There’s a pause, but before you know it words are flowing out of your mouth. “Nah, you don’t want to know...” Hajime hears you mumble, embarrassed. He was intrigued.

“Then why would I ask?” A silence follows, consisting of you finding the courage to actually show him this abomination. “You have to promise to not get mad, okay?” Hajime raises a brow.

“...Alright?” You take a minute to get the nerve.

“Issei and Takahiro got us a gift for the engagement-Well, not really it was more of a joke, a gross joke-But I just got curious and-“ You realize that it’d be more embarrassing to explain it rather than show it, so you take a deep breath, hike up your socks and slowly turn the knob. You cautiously open the door to find Hajime standing there, eyes widening the second you came into full view, his breath stuttering. You couldn’t meet his eyes.

“Please don’t laugh.” You sigh out, defeated.

He didn’t say anything, not being able to see his face but peeking high enough to see his Adam’s apple bob.

A couple of seconds felt like hours, and when there was absolutely no response, with your anxiety rising, you quickly tried to diffuse the situation.

“This was clearly a mistake. I’ll just go take it off—“ As you go to turn around, Hajime grips your arm.

Almost desperately. Without a single word spoken. You turn back around, scared and confused.

“Hajime?” You’re barely able to get his name out before he kisses you. Hard enough to make you stumble back into your shared bedroom, almost falling over. He’s quick to catch you though, hands immediately reaching to grab your ass, pressing so firmly

you’re sure it’ll leave marks. His mouth hasn’t left yours, completely dominating you as his tongue licks yours, making your whole body shiver. Your bodies are pressed firmly against each other, with everything happening so fast you don’t realize he had pushed you to the bed.

When his lips finally leave yours, they don’t go very far, travelling down your neck only to lick and bite at it. You could already feel the bruising happening, trying to get a word out before his fingers rubbing over your thinly clothed nipples rendered you unable to talk, only letting out surprised moans and whimpers. He plucks at them until they’re at straining attention, so sensitive you can’t stop the quakes going through your body. You start to feel hot, feeling his warmth come off in sudden waves as you feel the pressure of his chest against your stomach, realizing that he’s travelling downwards.

You aren’t given any warning before the flat of his tongue licks you. You jump up, yelping your fiancé’s name, immediately gripping his hair. This only seems to spur him on, a growl ripping through his throat, vibrating against you as he licks and sucks at your clit with such intensity. You can barely hold yourself together, grip only getting tight and you only getting louder. When he started to point his tongue to make figure eights on your pearl, you swear you began to see stars.

“Hajime—“ You whined, not being coherent enough to say anything else, beginning to feel yourself get closer to climax. With Hajime most likely sensing this, he stops, giving you the first proper look at him.

He looked crazed. More crazed than you’ve ever seen him.

His hair was destroyed (mostly your doing), eyeing you like you were a piece of meat waiting to be devoured, his mouth covered in the essence of you.

“I didn’t say you could cum.” His voice was coarse, his adam’s apple bobbing intensely and you felt yourself shiver.

Something tells you you’re going to be sore in the morning. _________________________ Hours had passed, and the two of you had finally gone to bed. At around 6 in the morning when you both had been fucking since 8 pm.

Needless to say, you were both sleeping rather soundly, in each other’s arms as the afternoon sun shone through your bedroom windows, when Hajime stirred awake from a buzzing,

Groaning, he blinked his tired eyes as he annoyedly searched for the source of the noise, finding your phone on the nightstand, buzzing in a rhythmic tune, and seeing a rubber duck appear on the screen.

Immediately, he knew who it was.

He reached over you, grabbed the phone and answered, only slightly pissed off.

“What do you want?” Issei chuckled. “Man, your morning voice is really rough [Name],” Hajime only grumbled. “You woke me up and almost woke her up. What do you want?” He repeated. Course, Issei only asked the questions that were bound to annoy Hajime. A specialty of his.

“It’s almost 1 pm, what’re you guys doing sleeping in this late?” Hajime went to answer, before going red, looking down next to you sleeping peacefully, covered in hickeys and blemishes. All caused by him.

His silence was all Issei needed.

“Enjoying our gift? Maybe we’ll grab you guys a different pair for your honeymoon?” Hajime turned red, but of course he didn’t want Issei to know that.

“Shut up.” Was all Hajime said before hanging up. Issei chuckled, looking back to Takahiro, also very amused. “I told you they would. You owe me.”

[max1461]

What does this question even fucking mean?

I apologize to this random reddit user, who I'm about to put on blast, but this question is such nonsense and it's nonsense in a way that is extremely common, especially on r/askphilosophy (where this was posted) but also just in general, and I want to talk about it.

First of all, as the top commenter points out, a "philosopher king" is a hypothetical type of ruler discussed by Plato, not a real category of king that actually existed. But I can forgive this user for not knowing this is where the term comes from, because it's just a piece of factual knowledge that they might not have. That's fine. The reason I find this question so dumb is because, like... suppose that "philosopher king" was a real category of ruler that existed in antiquity. What the fuck would it mean? Like, did this asker ever stop to think "what question am I asking? This category that I'm inquiring about, what defines it?"? No, they did not. They just heard a term and started using it without thinking about what it actually refers to. This is the ur-problem of like 80% of all bad thinking: speaking first and figuring out what you mean by it later.

Is a "philosopher king" just a king who happens to also be a philosopher? If so, then surely you can answer your own question about the existence of "philosopher presidents" by just googling around for world leaders who happen to also have philosophy degrees or whatever; I imagine that information is easily available. But if this is what you mean by "philosopher king", then the question doesn't seem very deep or interesting, right? I mean a king is just a guy, and a president is just a guy, so of course it might be the case that sometimes these guys happen to also write philosophy.

I suppose if the question was framed this way—"are there any recent world leaders who are also philosophers?"—I wouldn't find it so silly. But the way it's phrased sort of suggests that the asker believes there's some kind of like, underlying pattern they're noticing, or deeper meaning they can ascribe to this. Like a "philosopher king" is some special ontological category of ruler, beyond just "king who also happens to have written philosophy", and so the existence or not of "philosopher presidents" is like a fascinating and puzzling topic to ponder instead of just an incidental question about whether any world leaders who use the title "president" also happen to do philosophy.

Right? Do you see what I'm saying? It's like this user heard king Solomon or whatever the fuck referred to as a "philosopher king" once, and didn't even bother to try to parse what that means. Just went "I guess there's a special type of king called a philosopher king, I know this piece of information know". It's like an abdication of actually thinking about what anyone is saying to you.

Of course I'm inferring wildly based on a small amount of information here, but this is the general type of error that I see all the time, so I'm not really concerned with being appropriately epistemically cautious about whether this exact thing is what lead this user to ask their dumb question on r/askphilosophy. I'm riffing on this guy's question to articulate a broader point, and pattern matching it to a common thinking error.

I will say, though, r/askphilosophy seems to attract people who say shit that is dumb in exactly this way (as opposed to all the other ways you can be dumb), and so this has served me well as model for what these people are doing wrong.

Anyway, this is actually the root cause, one suspects, of the asker's knowledge gap that I mentioned at the beginning of the post. A "philosopher king" is not in fact some special category of king that really existed, but an idea discussed by Plato in the Republic. It's fine that this person doesn't know this, but if they had tried to figure out what "philosopher king" actually means before saying it, they probably would have learned this fact.

If I could give one piece of advice to everyone on Earth and have them really take it seriously, it would probably be "think about what you mean before your say it".

[steddieas-shegoes]

wrong date

for @corrodedcoffinfest prompt 'wrong date'

rated t | 890 words | cw: mild language | tags: famous corroded coffin, jeff's dad finally accepts he has a rockstar son

🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻

It was supposed to be a special show, not even part of the regular tour. A stop in Indianapolis in a small venue, only 250 tickets sold, a shortened set with a new song list just for this crowd. They'd have merch available specific to this show.

It was a bit of an anniversary show, marking the ten year anniversary of their first time playing in Indy, which is the show that led them to signing their first deal.

It wasn't even a real tour date.

But when their merch arrived for it, they went into panic mode.

"How did they mess up the back?" Jeff was yelling through the phone on the bus, something he never did. "We were clear that this would have the art submitted with the date and location of this one show. It can't have the same back as our tour shirt!"

Frankie and Eddie watched Jeff from the couch as Gareth sat on the counter by the fridge. Normally, Jeff was incredibly calm when faced with a problem, especially one that could definitely be fixed. This could be fixed, though it would be cutting it extremely close to the show date.

"No. Fix it. Get them overnighted. I don't care if it costs you more money. Not having the merch we told fans we would is gonna cost a lot more." Jeff hung up, immediately banging his head against the cabinet in front of him. "It's so simple. They fuck up the simplest thing."

"You good?" Gareth dares to ask while Jeff is having a breakdown.

"How many times do I have to fix shit they fuck up? Why do they even get to be in charge of things if they can't handle it?" Jeff continues, ignoring Gareth's question. "We need a better manager."

"You mean like the last guy we had?" Frankie snorted. "Maybe we could call him in prison and ask him for help while he serves time for tax evasion and embezzlement."

"At least he got us the right fucking shirts!" Jeff argued, but quickly deflated. "I just want this to be perfect."

Gareth made eye contact with Eddie and Frankie before hopping off the counter and standing in front of Jeff. He placed a comforting hand on Jeff's shoulder.

"This wouldn't normally bother you this much. What's goin' on?" He asked.

"My dad's gonna be there."

It all made sense now.

Jeff's relationship with his dad had been...rocky. Not always. In fact, as a child, he was incredibly close to him, and they spend countless hours playing together, taking fishing trips, going to concerts.

But when Jeff started taking music more seriously than school, planning for a future on stage instead of in a college dorm, his dad had a lot of things to say, and none of them were positive. It broke Jeff's heart to lose his support, but it got easier to deal with the more successful they became.

When their recent album debuted at number one, Jeff's dad reached out to let him know he was proud of him. He didn't apologize, or even admit he was wrong, but he was trying a little. It was enough for Jeff from a distance.

But apparently it wouldn't be at a distance anymore.

"He's your VIP ticket?" Eddie asked.

Jeff nodded. "Him and my mom. They heard about it and insisted on coming to see what all the fuss is about."

"Who said there's fuss?" Eddie joked. "No fuss here. Just a lot of people who wanna sleep with us or be us."

"Yeah, I guess they wanted to get the experience without going to a regular show."

"We'll have the best show ever, then. Gotta show them how fuckin' cool you are, right?" Frankie said as he pulled Jeff into a hug.

****

Jeff's parents were the first ones backstage after the show, somehow beating Gareth's parents, Wayne, and Frankie's mom by minutes.

He gave his mom a hug, but hesitated before holding a hand out towards his dad.

Everyone watched as his dad looked down at it, then back up at Jeff.

Jeff dropped his hand, and only his closest friends in the world could see the disappointment on his face.

But his dad's arms wrapped around his shoulders, and the entire room breathed a sigh of relief.

"Proud of you, son. I'm glad you didn't listen to me."

"Really?" Jeff asked against his shoulder, voice wet and rough like he was holding back a sob.

"You're a true rock star. Can't say I ever thought it was possible, but seeing you up there, I know that's where you were meant to be."

When Jeff pulled away, he noticed both of his parents were wearing the shirts that had only arrived at the venue the day before.

Everything was correct this time.

When Jeff's dad turned around to say hi to Frankie's mom, Jeff looked at the date on the back.

"You're fuckin' kidding me," he groaned.

"What?" Eddie asked, watching the door for Wayne.

"They got the date wrong!"

Eddie laughed. "I guess our encore technically played on June 20th, so that's gotta be at least a little right."

"We have to fire our manager," Jeff shook his head. "Today. I'll hire someone off the street. Only qualification is knowing what a calendar looks like."